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somethin g else." She shoved th e box back under th e table and sea rched
aga in . Impati entl y, as I waited , I loo ked here and there. Sl owly it
dawned o n me th at J ea ni e's house was an exac t copy of my fa th er's, th e
same fl oor plan , o nl y in reverse . In my mind I erased th e boxes and th e
furniture, and it all came clear: th at was th e wall my fa th er had hi s sofa
on, over th ere was th e tea k cabin et, in that co rn er sa t the leather swivel
chair ...
" Here." J ea ni e held something out to me in th e palm o f her hand .
As I took it, she looked away.
It was a small ph o tograph framed in a go ld locket. In the dim light
I squinted at th e pi cture, whi ch was in blac k and w hite, sc ratched and
fa ded. It showed a man standin g in fro n t of an o ld- fas hi o ned ca r w ith
streamlin ed fin s. H e was wea rin g a white open collared shirt and a pair
of dark pants. H e was grinnin g like th e ca r was something spec ial, o r
maybe he th o ught
he
was something spec ial. I looked harder. Maybe he
was some body fa mo us, a mov ie sta r , like Paul N ewman o r Steve
McQu een . But it was nobody I recogni zed . It was probabl y somebody
Jeani e didn ' t even know, th e picture that came w ith the locket w he n it
was bought.
" It isn 't anybody," I said to J ea ni e.
"Yes it is." She looked at me, h er eyes narrowed , th eir yell ow-
brown colo r deepenin g to a muddy smea r.
"The n who?" I chall enged .
She h esitated .
"Sec," I sa id triumph ant. " N obody." I turn ed to go.
Th en she blurted , " It's my father. "
That was imposs ibl e. J eani e didn ' t have a fa th er. I was sure o f thi s;
I'd never seen a man enter o r leave her ho use. N ot o nce. N o t one single
male. Besides, even if she had a fa th er, it wouldn ' t be
this
man. I loo ked
at th e locke t aga in . N ot hin g coul d possibl y connec t th e sel f- ass ured ,
handsome man in th e ph otograph w ith thi s mi se rable girl. "You ' re ly–
ing," I sa id .
J eani e's eyes narrowed even furthe r and her mouth opened w ide in
protest, showin g the po inty tip o f h er to ngue and a chipp ed fr o nt
tooth. Th en all at o nce she froze, a look of terro r o n her face. Th ere
were vo ices at th e fro nt doo r. "Just a minute, Mo th er," someone sa id .
J eani e reac hed fo r the loc ket. "Give it bac k ," she moa ned. " N o
one's supposed
to
see it."
"You wa nt it?" I taunted her. "Then come and get it. " I clenc hed
my hand in a fi st and j erked th e locket up hi gh , out of her reach .
" Now," she hi ssed , desperate. H er face was pinched and pale , a pi–
geon's face.
