The Silent Boy (Emma McPherson Book 1) by A.J. Flynn (people reading books txt) 📕

heard the term, “mad with grief,” but had always classified it along with “death by a broken heart.” Perhaps they were only phrases, but hardly anything that was true to life. However, circumstance proved her wrong.

For nearly four months after Larry’s death she had lived in a kind of limbo. Part of the time she did everything she could to pretend that the accident had never happened and Larry would be coming home soon. The rest of the time she indulged in a hysteria of grief that hardly any of her family or friends could cope with.

Finally, a family minister managed to snap her out of it. He’d laid aside his usual sympathetic understanding and let her know in no uncertain terms that there was a big difference between grief and self-pity.

“I doubt,” he had said said to her coldly, “that Larry would have loved you as much as he did if he had known you were capable of turning away from his son in this time of need. A woman worthy of so much love would focus on helping her child instead of indulging herself in a carousel of selfish emotion.”

She had hated him. He was a cold and unfeeling man, she had said to herself, but finally the truth of what he had told her became evident, and she was forced to resign herself back to reality.

It had been difficult, but she had managed. Her life was built around her son Ben now, but she’d learned that she can’t smother him with her love. By keeping herself busy with various activities, she would be capable of giving him the guidance he needed, without overdoing it.

The school bus had gone past at least fifteen minutes ago and Ben still wasn’t home. She wasn’t too worried, though, as he was more than able to take care of himself, but she wished he would get home soon so she would have somebody to talk to.

Ella stood in her front window and looked out over the familiar street. The sun was already setting, and there were lights flickering on in some of the houses. The daytime traffic had been fairly heavy for a residential street, but none of the cars had stopped. Most of them had seemed only to be curious, driving by to take a look at the house where a murdered boy had lived. It had been somewhat amusing to watch as the cars sped up purposefully when one of the patrol cars passed by. To all appearance the drivers might have just remembered pressing business they had elsewhere, but it was doubtful they were fooling anyone.

She hadn’t seen anyone who lived in the neighborhood all day, besides Marla. There had been their encounter with her earlier that morning, and then again around noon she had scurried into her garage and grabbed two suitcases. Since then, all had been quiet.

Ben was running when she first spotted him. He hurried from behind the Fitts house and came to a quick stop on the front sidewalk. He stood looking back behind him for a while, then turned and started slowly across the street. It was clear to Ella that something was troubling him.

She watched him closely. Even though he was only fifteen, he was the same height his father had been, but today there was an unnatural slouch to his upper body. He shuffled along awkwardly in a way that made him seem childish, in spite of his precocious size.

Ella felt suddenly afraid. What had happened to transform her normally high-spirited son into this slow-moving character creeping up the walk?

She made her way to the door to greet him, masking over her concerns with a smile.

“Hello, dear. You’re late.”

“I know.” The boy’s voice was devoid of expression.

Ella clenched her fists. She didn’t want to treat him like a baby by questioning him too closely.

“Did you mow the Fitts’s lawn?” She knew perfectly well that he hadn’t, but it was a way to break the ice.

“No.”

She waited patiently for him to continue, but he didn’t show any indication of having more to say.

“They’re sure to be disappointed. You know Mr. Fitts likes to keep his lawn nice and trimmed, and he depends on you.”

“Not any more, he doesn’t.” He was nearly shouting, then his voice broke into a squeak that was particular to adolescent boys. “She screamed at me to go away or else she would call the cops, like I was some kind of stranger.”

Ella’s face flushed hot with rage, but her common sense told her she had to remain calm.

“Now, Ben, I’m sure she was just upset about something. You know how I get sometimes.”

“If she didn’t want me to be there, all she had to do was tell me. She didn’t have to threaten to call the cops.”

Ella’s predominant thoughts consisted of doing Marla bodily harm, but she did her best not to betray her feelings to the boy.

“You know, we’ve all been upset since that horrible thing happened to Charlie. I doubt she was thinking straight when she said that.”

“It wasn’t just her.” His hurt, resigned tone twisted her heart.

“What do you mean?”

“I took a shortcut through the Turner’s yard, same as I always do, and Mr. Turner stormed out and yelled at me to get off his property and quit snooping. I wasn’t snooping, I was just cutting through, like always.”

Ella opened the breadbox and reached for the bread with shaking hands. “Pour yourself a glass of milk and I’ll make you a sandwich. I think you’ll feel better once you’ve had something to eat. Just remember, the people around here aren’t being themselves, especially Mr. Turner. They don’t really mean what they say.”

Ben opened the fridge and grabbed the milk. “Yeah, but he still said it,” he muttered.

Yeah, they still said it, Ella thought, and they’ll be answering to me for it soon enough.

Ben took a seat with his sandwich, and despite his hurt feelings ate it with relish. She didn’t interrupt him, as she had plans