CHAPTER 40
NEWLY MOTIVATED, GUS MADE FAST WORK OF THE PARALLEL BARS over the past week.
The ten steps required to conquer them from end to end were now accomplished with almost no pauses.
His grunting and swearing came from choice rather than reaction.
The walker was like a strange friend he came to rely on, even if he still detested it.
He was able to shuffle down the hallways, and although he couldn’t make the full loop around the floor—which required four turns and nearly two hundred steps—Gus made it his goal to complete the trek by the end of the week.
If someone had told him a year before that sitting on a toilet and walking without assistance would be considered gifts from God, he’d have thought they were certifiable.
He sat in his bedside chair with the breakfast cart pulled in front of him and a steaming cup of coffee resting next to badly poached eggs and burnt toast. He ignored the food and indulged in the aroma of hazelnut.
Drinking coffee and reading the paper had been one of the joys of life, and for the first time in many weeks, he was beginning to notice such subtle benefits of being alive.
He scanned the front-page stories and then lifted the paper to see the stories below the fold.
He stopped when his gaze fell to the headline:
WOMAN CONVICTED OF MURDER EXONERATED
Grace Sebold freed after ten years in a Caribbean jail
He quickly unfolded the paper and read the article. Grace Sebold, made famous once more by the current documentary The Girl of Sugar Beach, was exonerated after new evidence surfaced that put into question the forensics used to convict her.
Jason strolled into his room as Gus finished the article.
“Hello, there. Ready for therapy?”
“No,” Gus said. “I need a favor.”
“What’s up?”
He scribbled onto a yellow notepad and ripped off the page, handing it to Jason. “I need you to make a run for me. Pick something up.”
Jason held the sticky note in his hand.
“What is it?”
“An address. I was hoping to get there myself, but I can’t walk out of here yet, and I’m short on time.”
“Where is this? Your house?”
“Not my house. Listen, kid, I haven’t asked for much while I’ve been in this place.
I’ve pretty much followed the rules. Your rules, anyway.
The goddam nurses are another story. I’ve got no one else to turn to for this, and, frankly, I wouldn’t trust anyone but you.
It’s important—otherwise I wouldn’t put you out. Will you help me?”
Jason looked down at the newspaper and saw the headline about Grace Sebold’s exoneration. He held up the sticky note and slowly nodded.
“Tell me what you need.”