The Final Rule Read Free Page B

them a permanent part of who he was.
    Was. Because he was gone and he would not come back.
    The bleeding grief consuming Ellis had stopped, but the unhealed wound remained. It would always be there, unable to scar, forever open and aching.
    Ellis picked up the cards, turning one handful after the other right side up, and put them back in the boxes where they belonged. Within minutes, his world shrank down to the simple act of sorting cards.
    He took extra care with the ones crinkled from being stuffed in a pocket. To keep them protected, Ellis placed those cards between the ones that were still rigid.
    The floor creaked.
    Jon appeared in the doorway, scrubbing one eye. Creases left behind from the sheets, ran from his temple to the thin beard he’d started wearing.
    Ellis liked the beard. It made Jon look more menacing. The good kind of menacing, found in hardened detectives, or crime fighters who didn’t follow the rules.
    That was him. A hero in boxers with bed-head.
    “What are you doing up? It’s like four in the morning.” Jon yawned.
    Ellis put the last plastic box back on the dresser. “I couldn’t sleep.” He gestured to the empty book bag. “So I unpacked Rudy’s baseball cards.”
    Jon squinted at the rows of plastic containers. “That’s a lot of cards. How long have you been up?”
    Ellis shrugged. “A while, I guess.”
    “Okay, let me rephrase that. Did you ever go to sleep?”
    “No.”
    “Christ, Ellis.” Jon walked over and wrapped his arms around him. “If you don’t start sleeping, I think we should get a doctor to prescribe you something.” He leaned into Jon, soaking up the warmth of his body.
    “I’m fine.”
    “You’re not fine. You need to sleep.”
    “I know.”
    Jon propped his chin on Ellis’s head. The steady rhythm of Jon’s heartbeat soothed the lingering turmoil inside Ellis.
    “I miss him.” Somehow Ellis managed not to cry.
    “I know. So do I.” Jon stared at Rudy’s drawings hanging on the wall. His somber expression hardened into confusion. Jon stood.
    “What is it?”
    He stopped in front of Rudy’s drafting table.
    “Jon?”
    He tapped a finger against one of the drawings. “This one.” He pinched the tack holding it up. “Do you mind?”
    “Go ahead.”
    Jon pulled out the tack, releasing several more pictures. They fluttered to the ground. His eyes widened. “Has Rudy ever been to the Grove?”
    “What?”
    “The Grove.”
    “That’s where Lenny…” Almost killed him.
    “Has Rudy ever been there?”
    “No, of course not.”
    Jon held out the drawing. Green scribbles edged the bottom half of the paper, and branching lines reached for the sky. The arrangement of the six trees was unmistakable. Ellis picked up another one. More grass, more trees all placed in the same pattern.
    “I dreamt about this place.”
    “When?”
    “Yesterday. Before you woke me up. Probably from walking past it a hundred times a week, picking up his laundry.” Ellis gave a sad laugh. “I wish I’d never complained about that.” Ellis looked up and Jon’s gaze hit hard. “What’s wrong?”
    “Do you think George knows anything about this place?”
    “What do you mean ‘this place’?”
    Jon snapped the piece of paper. “This is the Grove.”
    “That’s impossible, it’s just some trees—”
    “No. This is the place Lenny took me. The trees are lined up just like this. They’re pecan trees. Huge. I’ve never seen pecan trees that large.”
    So big not even three men could get their arms around the trunk. The limbs would be gnarled, and black. “He saw a picture somewhere.” Ellis sucked in a choppy breath. “Right? A picture?”
    “No. I don’t think he got this from a picture.”
    Just like he didn’t get the other drawings from pictures.
    Rudy’s belongings: toys, early reader books, drawings, crayons, baseball cards, colorful pictures on the wall. The bedclothes and curtains were the only things that looked like they belonged to a man, but