Setting Free the Bears - Page 44

'Faith,' Gallen said. 'Did he come by the orchard road?' Oh, she wouldn't look at him. 'Then they saw his motorcycle!' she wailed. 'Oh, everyone's been told to look for it!'

'Why does she care?' said Siggy.

'Did you come from St Leonhard, Sig?' I asked him.

'Graff,' he said. 'Look at me and tell me if you see an amateur.'

Faith

WELL, I HEARD the first of the wood-creaks edge down the hallway from the stairs - and the sound of the top step being squeaked, the banister being leaned on.

'Who's that?' Gallen whispered.

'It's not about me,' said Siggy. 'No one's seen me.'

So I peeked out in the hall. It was the old Tratt, sagged on the banister, winded from her climb.

'Herr Graff!' she called. 'Herr Graff?'

I came out in the hall where she could see me.

'It's Keff,' she said. 'It's Keff, come to take you to your job.'

'Job?' Siggy whispered.

'He's much too early,' I told the Tratt. Tell him he's early.'

'He knows he's early,' she said, 'and he's waiting.' And the terrible Tratt and I understood each other for a moment; then she swayed back down the stairs.

But bald Siggy was bent over my Gallen. He had her braid in his fist, and she bit her lip.

'He's got a job?' said Siggy. 'Has he got a job, you damn girl?'

'Siggy,' I said.

'Faith!' he said. 'You never thought I'd be back, did you? Got yourself a job and a frotting girl!'

'They were going to arrest him,' Gallen said over her lip.

'I set it all up,' said Siggy. 'Did you think I'd run out?'

'I knew you were setting it up,' I said. 'But, Siggy, they were figuring me as a vagrant. They were setting things up, too.'

'Keff's waiting,' said Gallen. 'Oh, it's all fixed, Graff! If you don't go down, he'll come up.'

'Sig,' I said, 'where can I meet you after work?'

'Oh, sure!' he said. 'You're telling me you've not frotted this sweet rag of a girl?'

'Siggy, don't,' I said.

'You're telling me!' he shouted. 'Telling me you're coming with me? But after your frotting job! Oh, sure.'

'This Keff,' I said. 'He's looking out for me.' And I heard woody little spasms down the hallway; somebody heavy, mounting two at a time.

'Sig, get out!' I said. 'You're going to get caught. Say a place where we'll meet.'

'Say a place to meet me,' Gallen said to him. 'Graff's got to go.'

Tags: John Irving Fiction
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