"Jonah!" she screamed, breaking into a run.
Will leapt after her, almost bumping into her as she reached the workshop door. Looking past her, he saw Jonah trying to push a heavy crate across the floor. He was struggling mightily, oblivious to their sudden appearance.
"What are you doing?" Ronnie cried. "When did you come out here?"
Jonah continued to push at the crate, grunting with the effort.
"Jonah!" Ronnie shouted.
Her cry broke through his tunnel-like focus, and he turned toward Will and his sister, surprised by their presence. "I can't reach it!" he cried, angry and on the verge of tears. "I'm not tall enough!"
"Can't reach what?" she asked before taking a sudden step forward. "You're bleeding!" she said, panic rising in her voice.
Will noticed the torn jeans and blood on Jonah's leg as Ronnie rushed toward him. Driven by his own demons, Jonah pushed frantically at the crate, and the corner of the box smashed into one of the shelves. The half-squirrel/half-fish creature toppled off, landing on Jonah just as Ronnie reached him.
His face was tight and red. "Go away! I can do this by myself! I don't need you!" he screamed.
He tried to move the crate again, but it was pinned by the shelf, locked in place. Ronnie tried to help him, but Jonah shoved her away. By now, Will could see the tears on his cheeks.
"I told you to go away!" he shouted at her. "Dad wants me to finish the window! Me! Not you! That's what we were doing all summer!" His words came out in broken gasps, angry and terrified. "This was what we did! All you ever cared about were the turtles! But I was with him every day!"
As he shouted through his tears, his voice cracked.
"And now I can't reach the middle part of the window! I'm too short! But I have to finish it, because maybe if I finish it, then Dad will get better. He has to get better, so I tried to use the chair to reach the middle of the window, but it broke and I fell into the glass and I got mad and then I wanted to use the crate, but it's too heavy--"
By then, he could barely get the words out, and he suddenly rocked back and collapsed onto the ground. Wrapping his arms around his knees and lowering his head, he began to sob, his shoulders convulsing.
Ronnie took a seat on the floor beside him. She slipped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him toward her as he continued to cry. As Will watched, he could feel a lump in the back of his throat, knowing he didn't belong here.
Still, he stayed while Ronnie held her brother as he cried, not trying to hush him or assure him that everything was going to be okay. She just held him wordlessly until his sobs began to subside. Finally he looked up, his eyes red through his glasses, his face blotchy with tears.
When Ronnie spoke, her voice was gentle--as kind as he had ever heard her.
"Can we go in the house for a few minutes? I just want to check the cut on your leg."
Jonah's voice was still quavering. "What about the window? It has to be finished."
Ronnie met Will's eyes, then returned her gaze to Jonah. "Can we help?"
Jonah shook his head. "You don't know how."
"Show us."
After Ronnie cleaned Jonah's leg and put some Band-Aids on it, Jonah led them back to the workshop.
The window was nearly complete--all of the detailed etchings of the faces were finished, and the reinforcing bars were already in place. The work that remained consisted of adding hundreds of intricate pieces to form the heavenly glow in the sky.
Jonah showed Will how to cut the lead strips and taught Ronnie how to solder; Jonah cut the glass, as he'd been doing most of the summer, and slid them into the lead strips before making room for Ronnie to set the pieces in place.
It was hot and crowded in the workshop, but eventually the three of them fell into a rhythm of sorts. At lunchtime, Will ran out to pick up some burgers and a salad for Ronnie; they took a short break while they ate but were soon back at their task. As the afternoon rolled on, Ronnie called the hospital three times, only to learn that her dad was either in tests or sleeping but doing well. By the time dusk settled in, they'd finished about half the work; Jonah's hands were getting tired, and they took another break to eat before moving some lamps from the living room to add additional light to the workshop.
Darkness fell, and Jonah was yawning steadily by ten; when they went inside to relax for a few minutes, Jonah fell asleep almost immediately. Will carried him to his room and put him in bed. By the time he returned to the living room, Ronnie was already back at the workshop.
Will took over the glass cutting; he'd seen Jonah doing it all day, and though he made some mistakes in the beginning, he quickly got the hang of it.
They worked through the night, and by the time dawn began to break, both of them were dead on their feet. On the table in front of them lay the completed window. Will wasn't sure how Jonah would feel knowing he hadn't had a hand in finishing the final pieces, but he figured Ronnie would know how to handle it.
"You two look like you've been up all night," said a voice behind them. Turning around, Will saw Pastor Harris standing in the doorway.
Pastor Harris was leaning on his cane. He was wearing a suit--probably for his Sunday church service--but Will noticed the horrific scars on the backs of his hands and knew immediately that they extended up his arms. Thinking back to the fire at the church and the secret he'd kept all these months, he found it impossible to meet the pastor's eyes.
"We've been finishing the window," Ronnie said hoarsely.
Pastor Harris motioned toward the window. "May I?"
Ronnie nodded. "Of course."
Pastor Harris stepped into the workshop, moving slowly. His cane tapped against the wooden floor as he approached. At the table, his expression changed from curiosity to wonderment. Leaning on his cane, he ran a knobby, scarred hand over the glass.
"It's incredible," he breathed. "It's more beautiful than I would have imagined possible."
"My dad and Jonah did all the real work," Ronnie said. "We just helped to finish it."
He smiled. "Your father will be so pleased."
"How's the church coming? I know my dad would love to see the window in place."
"From your mouth to God's ears." He shrugged. "The church isn't as popular as it once was, so there aren't as many members. But I have faith that it will work out."
From her anxious expression, Will knew Ronnie was wondering whether or not the window would be installed in time but was afraid to ask.
"Your dad is doing well, by the way," Pastor Harris said. "He should be out of the hospital soon, and you should be able to visit him this morning. You didn't miss much yesterday. I spent most of the day sitting in his room alone while they were running tests."
"Thanks for staying with him."
"No, sweetheart," he said. He glanced at the window again. "Thank you."
It was quiet in the workshop as Pastor Harris made his way out. Will watched him go, unable to shake the image of his scarred hands.
In the silence, he studied the window, struck by the work that had been necessary to make a new one, a window that shouldn't have had to be replaced. He thought of the pastor's words and the possibility that Ronnie's dad might not even live to see the window installed.
Ronnie was lost in her own thoughts as he turned to her.
He felt something collapse inside him, like a house of cards. "There's something I need to tell you."
As they sat on the dune, Will told her everything from the beginning. When he finished, Ronnie seemed confused.
"You're saying that Scott started the fire? And that you've been protecting him?" Her voice rang with disbelief. "You've been lying for him?"
Will shook his head. "It's not like that. I told you it was an accident."
"It doesn't matter." Ronnie's eyes searched his. "Accident or not, he needs to take responsibility for what he did."
"I know. I told him to go to the police."
"But what if he doesn't? Are you going to keep covering f
or him forever? You're going to let Marcus keep controlling your life? It's wrong."
"But he's my friend..."
Ronnie leapt to her feet. "Pastor Harris almost died in that fire! He spent weeks in the hospital. Do you know how painful burns are? Why don't you ask Blaze how it feels? And the church... you know he can't even rebuild it... and now my dad's never going to see the window where it belongs!"
Will shook his head, trying to stay calm. He could see that it was all too much for Ronnie--her dad, his impending departure, her upcoming court date. "I know it was wrong," he said quietly. "And I've felt guilty about it. I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to go to the police."
"So what?" she demanded. "That doesn't mean anything! Didn't you hear me when I told you about admitting in court what I had done? Because I knew what I did was wrong! Truth only means something when it's hard to admit! Don't you get that? That church was Pastor Harris's life! It was my dad's life! And now it's gone and the insurance won't cover the damage and they have to hold services in a warehouse..."
"Scott's my friend," he protested. "I can't just... throw him to the wolves."
She blinked, wondering if he could even hear what he was saying. "How can you be so selfish?"
"I'm not being selfish--"
"That's exactly what you are, and if you can't understand that, then I don't want to talk to you!" she said. She turned and started toward the house. "Just go! Leave!"
"Ronnie!" he called out, getting up to follow her. She sensed his movement and whirled to face him.
"It's over, okay?"
"It's not over. C'mon, be reasonable..."