too. We’ve been here ten years and they still call us The New Yorkers.”
Joey laughed. “Goddamn New Yorkers!”
“And I’m a special case,” Sarge said. “My father grew up here.”
“I don’t mind being an outsider. You can start calling me The New Yorker, if you want to. Anyway, it would be the same for me in Shelby. My mother and father died years ago. I have no brothers or sisters. And I never got married. I’m an outsider everywhere. So I can put down roots wherever.”
Henry’s eyes narrowed.
“You make up your mind awfully quick.”
Lucas nodded and smiled.
The waitress came out from behind the counter. “You got to be kidding. Jesus Christ. Go someplace where there’s something to do.”
Sarge put a large, gentle hand on her arm. “Lucille, relax. Please.”
She turned away from Lucas. “I’m sorry, Dad.”
“That’s all right.”
Dad. He came here from New York City. Why?
“Money’s not a problem,” Lucas said. “I’ve got a pension. It’s not a fortune, but it’s enough to pay the freight. I might even look for a job here. But first I have to find a place to live.”
“What did you have in mind?” Ernie asked. “You want to buy a house?”
Sarge aimed a warning finger at Ernie.
“You’d better be careful. Ernie’s double poison: he’s not only a lawyer, he’s a real estate agent.”
Everyone laughed, even Henry.
“I don’t think I can afford a house. Anyway, it’s more than I need. I’m just looking to rent. Is there a boarding house in town?”
Ernie shook his head. “No. No apartments. No condos. Except . . .”
He looked at Joey and asked, “What do you think, Joey?”
“It’s fine with me. But Fay’s the one you have to talk to.”
“It sounds like you’ve got a room available.”
“Maybe. My sister Fay and I have a house with a separate apartment, a small one my mother lived in for a while, after she got sick. She died a couple of years ago. The place is furnished, has a stove and a refrigerator. A separate bathroom. It’s not bad.”
“Sounds promising. I’d like to take a look at it.” He slowed the pace of the conversation by sipping his coffee for a moment. “Of course, I don’t expect you to trust me, just like that. I’ll give you the name of the company that handles my pension. They can tell you I’m on the level. You can get their number from the phone company, so you’re sure it’s not a set-up. I’ll call them first and tell them to give you whatever information you need.”
“I’ll take care of that, Joey.”
“Okay, Ernie. But first, we’ve got to talk to Fay.”
“Why don’t you take . . . What’s your name, Mister?”
“Lucas Murdoch.”
“Why don’t you take Mr. Murdoch over to see Fay?” Ernie suggested. “While you’re doing that, I’ll check him out.”
“Okay,” Joey replied.
Henry commented to no one in particular, “He’s been here for half an hour and he’s ready to settle down. He’s got all the answers. ‘Here’s the name of my banker. Give him a call. Rent me a room. And I’ll unpack my bags.’ He’s a salesman, all right.”
“I’m not rushing things,” Lucas said. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time—a couple of years. I guess I’ve been looking for Pennington, and I didn’t know it. I found it today, and I want to stay.”
“Henry gave me a hard time, too,” Sarge said. “He gives everyone a hard time.”
“Is there a phone I can use?” Lucas asked.
Sarge pointed to a door at the far end of the counter. “Yeah. There’s an extension in the office in back of the kitchen. It’s private. Go ahead. Dial nine to get an outside line, and one for long distance.”
“What’s your last name, Ernie? So I can tell them who’s going to call.”
“Hynes.”
“Thanks.”
The office was small, windowless. Several photographs hung on the wall opposite the cluttered desk. One showed Sarge in a policeman’s uniform, posing with another policeman in front of a patrol car on a New York City street. There were family shots of him, his wife (the cashier in the diner) and his daughter, Lucille, all looking much younger. On the desk was a more recent photo of Lucille and a five- or six-year-old boy.
Lucas called his financial advisor, gave him detailed instructions, and returned to the dining room.
Henry stopped speaking in mid-sentence.
Joey seemed uncomfortable, but he said, “Let’s go see Fay.”
“Ernie, you’ll want to get in touch with Archer and Fitzgerald in Manhattan,” Lucas said. “They’re on East Fifty-Eighth Street. Tell them you want to speak to my financial advisor.”
“I’ll do that right now.”
Joey walked toward the door and waved his hand. “Come on, Mr. Murdoch. We’re going to the library.”
In the parking lot, Joey said, “We’ll take my car,” and pointed to a shiny, spotless, new station wagon with simulated wood panels and a Dealer’s license plate.
“If you’re in the market for a car, let me know. I work for the Ford dealer in Fulton—that’s a few miles east of here. I’ll make it worth your while.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Joey handed Lucas a business card:
Fulton Ford
For the Deal of A Lifetime!
Joey Geneen, Sales Manager
As they drove east on Route Forty-Six, Lucas was organizing what he had seen and heard. The hard work would begin later. The patterns were still only dimly outlined, but he was already energized, enjoying every new moment, every new fragment of information.
“Your sister, Fay. She owns the house?”
Joey nodded.
“Yeah. I left town when I was eighteen. Joined the navy. I was in Nam for a while. On a carrier. I was a mechanic. It was toward the end of the war, and I didn’t really see much action.
