A Century of Progress Read Free Page B

to a neighborhood where you wouldn’t have to look very hard to find someone who needs help. Some alcoholic passed out in a gutter or a doorway. A life that might very well be saved with some effort on your part, if you were to see that such a man got food and a decent place to sleep and some routine medical care. But you’re not going over there to find that man, are you?”
    “I’m talking about my own—”
    “Yes. Exactly. You concentrate on fighting for your own causes. You can’t do everything, save everyone in the world. Besides, maybe that particular man will make it anyway. Well, maybe Sandy will make it anyway, now that she’s had some real help for a few days. I wish her well, I really do, and maybe now the hospital’s chemotherapy will work.” Ginny Butler paused. “If she were my kid, I wouldn’t want to bet on it.”
    Norlund stood there, staring at the young woman in front of him. The two of them were just about of a height. He could imagine himself clubbing her to the ground, or reaching out to choke her. He could imagine himself forcing a laugh, and turning and walking away. No, he couldn’t really. Not with Sandy . . .
    The young woman, as if perceiving that he had passed some interior turning point, softened her voice. “Now, what do you want to do? You could make a fuss, perhaps try to report me to the police. But I haven’t asked you for any money; I repeat that I wouldn’t take it if you offered it. I have nothing to fear from your going to the police. But it would end our relationship.”
    Ginny Butler paused at that point, as if to give Norlund time to consider the implications. Then she went on, in a more optimistic tone: “Or are you ready to do me the favor I requested, and grant me a couple of days of your time? I promise that if you do, Sandy will recover.”
    Norlund only stood looking at her.
    She put a hand on his arm, tentatively, almost timidly, and said: “I swear it solemnly. We want to help her. I want to. If you help us, she will not die of this bone cancer. No tricks, no catches. She’ll go home in a short time, happy and healthy.”
    Norlund heard himself asking: “She won’t die?”
    “Not in the immediate future. No one can promise immortality.”
    “She’ll be healthy?”
    “Just like them.” Ginny gave a confident nod toward the noisy skaters, who were now off on a far loop of the walk.
    Norlund had the sensation that he and Ginny Butler were utterly alone, the rest of the surrounding city far away. “Something legal, you say? Driving a truck?”
    “As I told you, there’s a little more to it than just driving a truck. But it’s better than just legal, Alan. In fact it’s for a very good cause.”
    “Ah. I’m not so sure that’s a good selling point with me. You ought to use that ‘good cause’ bit only on your younger clients.”
    “I didn’t want to emphasize it with you. But it is the truth.” Ginny Butler had a very winning smile when she turned it on.
    “You sure you got the right man, lady? I mean, I’m just an ordinary guy. Getting up in years. There’s nothing in my background . . .”
    “I know all about your background.” Her smile had turned impish. “More than you can imagine.” And Norlund could suddenly imagine the possibility of trusting her.
    “And when,” he asked, “do you want me to start on this job?”
    “I want you to come with me right now. The sooner you start, the sooner you’ll be finished. If you like we can stop at a phone somewhere, and you can call your daughter and tell her that you’re off on a short business trip. Which will be the truth. Marge won’t be particularly surprised. You still do go off on business trips once in a while.”
    Someone had certainly gone to a lot of trouble to set this up. What did he have that could be worth it? “And what about Sandy?”
    “You can call the hospital tomorrow morning, and find out how she’s doing. Tell you what, Alan. If she’s not doing well tomorrow