Chapter 18 #2
I snap my mouth shut.
“That's what I thought. We need to get you to a point of stability. Be patient with yourself.”
He leaves me sitting on my bed agonizing over how patient I'm not.
Mrs. Richards comes in a little while after the doctor leaves. I really like her, even though she's mean about lying in bed too much.
“Alright, Mr. Williams,” she says firmly, hands on hips. “I'm going to the market, and I need a strong escort who doesn't mind carrying the basket. Put your shoes on and grab a sweater and meet me by the door in five minutes.”
This is part of my recovery regimen. I don't think anyone asked her to take me for walks every day, and I know for a fact it isn't Brooks's idea for her to drag me out to the shops, but none of us have the nerve to disobey her.
I get my shoes and the sweater that I won't need and meet her at the door.
She's already there with her handbasket and bright yellow jacket. “We'll walk through the park today. The weather's too nice to find fault with.”
I gave up trying to reason with her. She's led me through parks, playgrounds, fountain paths, and open-air markets. I just go where she takes me. Sometimes she talks about the places we meander through, and I try to pay attention, but what happens more often than not is I get lost in my own head.
She drives us into the residential area of the city and parks the car in front of a meter. After she pays the fee, she shoves the basket onto one of my arms and loops her hand through the other one. “Off we go.”
And off we do go. She sets quite a quick pace this afternoon, and by the time we're walking through a nice cheerful park, I've worked up a sweat. Maybe the doctor was right to keep me benched if a short walk is going to be this strenuous.
“Let's go sit on that bench over there by the swings,” Mrs. Richards says brightly.
I follow her and drop down on the navy blue bench beside her. We watch the kids playing for a while before she pats my hand and gestures at the entire park.
“How long do you think it took to build this park? Not the playground, just the general structure.”
I look at all of it. Plants and flowers. Well-planned trees. Benches. A level, paved path. Nice rock structures. Picnic tables scattered strategically. Even a water fountain. “Probably a long time. It depends on what was here before.”
“What do you think was here before?”
I shrug. “I'm not from this area. I don't know. Maybe an abandoned store or a broken down house or two?”
She shakes her head. “It was nothing. There were scrub trees and bushes and trash. Piles of it. A billboard over there,” she waves in the direction of the far corner, “advertising an escort service. It was nothing.”
I nod. “The city wanted to clean it up?”
She laughs. “The city doesn't give a shit about the people who live here.
The council and mayor only care about whoever lines their pockets.
Kids and parents don't do that. Look over there,” she points to the primary school on the hill a couple of blocks away.
“See that school? Do you think the city put a playground and a school in the same neighborhood?”
I shrug, shaking my head. I don't know what a city might do. “Isn't it the city's job to build schools?”
“The city doesn't do more than it has to.
Four brick walls and minimal plumbing and electric—that's all. The only difference between a school and a titty bar when it comes to the city council is a titty bar gets more funding. That school was funded privately by the same private investor that had the park built.”
“That was nice of them.”
She turns to me and squeezes my hand. “It was nice of him. He didn't have to do that. He doesn't have a family, and he never intended to, but he took it upon himself to take care of the people who need taken care of.”
I look back out at the park, the school, the kids, and try to imagine the messy heap that was here before and how much just this park improved the lives of the people in this neighborhood.
I didn't have access to a park when I was a kid.
I didn't live near a school. I had to walk past the wharf and down a few alleys to get to school.
It was dangerous for any kid, but especially a smaller one.
A safe path to a decent school could have set me up for a whole different life.
“Do you know who paid for it?”
“Paid for and planned it,” she corrects. “Mr. Lockwood made it happen. These are just two of his projects.”
Brooks. Brooks built this. Brooks, who I have watched end lives so nonchalantly, so callously. Brooks, who once peeled the skin from... Brooks built a playground and a school for kids who don't belong to him.
“Why does he do it?”
She smiles and pats my hand again. “He'd tell you it's atonement, but I'll tell you the truth. He does it for you. Or because of you. Either way, you're the catalyst.”
My breath catches in my suddenly thick throat. “I don't understand.”
“He couldn't fix you, so he fixes everything else. And now, you're fixing yourself. I'm glad you're here, Mr. Williams. He needs someone to make happy. He needs someone to see his effort. He needs someone to love him the way he deserves.”