Trickster's Point Read Free Page B

finished with you,” Bigby said.
    The stranger opened his arms as if in welcome. “Anytime,” he said.
    “Let’s go.” Bigby turned and walked away, trying to square his shoulders in a last-ditch effort at some dignity.
    Cork finally noticed Winona, who stood with her arm around Willie, and who was not watching Bigby and his cohorts at all. Her eyes were on the stranger, and what was in them was something Cork would have sold his soul for.
    “You okay?” the big kid said to Winona and Willie.
    Willie nodded, and Winona said, “Yes, thanks.”
    The kid looked at Cork. “You’re going to have yourself a shiner.”
    Cork felt his left eye and winced at the tenderness there. “What’s your name?” he asked.
    “Little,” the huge kid said.
    Cork laughed. “You’re kidding me.”
    “Jubal Little.”
    “I’m Cork. This is Winona and Willie.”
    Jubal nodded at them but seemed to take no significant notice.
    “You’re new,” Cork said.
    “Just moved here,” Jubal replied.
    “What grade are you in?” Winona asked.
    “Seventh.”
    Cork was astonished because the kid was like no other seventh grader he’d ever seen. “How old are you?”
    “Thirteen.”
    “Is that like in elephant years or something?” Cork asked.
    Jubal shrugged easily. “I’ve always been big for my age.” He looked where Bigby and the others were exiting the park. “You have any more trouble with those guys, let me know.”
    “We’re heading to Sam’s Place for something to eat,” Winona said. “You want to come?”
    Jubal shook his head. “No, thanks. Got things to do.” He turned to leave.
    “See you,” Cork said.
    “Yeah,” Jubal replied, without any particular enthusiasm. He didn’t even look back, just lifted his hand in a brief farewell.
    As Jubal Little walked away, Cork had a realization. This new kid had just stepped in to save his ass and Winona’s and Willie’s, and yet it wasn’t especially significant to Jubal Little in any way. It was as if such an action was perfectly ordinary for him.
    They didn’t talk much after that. There was a darkness in Willie’s face, and Cork figured he was fuming at the things Bigby had said. Winona stared into the distance, preoccupied, Cork was pretty sure, with thoughts of Jubal Little. In his own thinking, Cork was divided. On the one hand, because he’d been totally useless at handling Bigby, he was glad Jubal Little had intervened. On the other, his pride had taken a hard beating, and Jubal Little was a part of that.
    After she saw his face, his mother gave him an ice pack but didn’t press him for answers. When his father came home that night, he asked, “What’s up with the eye?”
    “Accident,” Cork told him.
    His father said, “The kind where your face falls into somebody else’s fist?”
    “I can take care of it.”
    His father considered, then nodded. “Something like this can get taken care of in a lot of ways. You won’t let it get out of hand?”
    “No, sir.”
    “All right.” He’d removed his leather jacket with the Tamarack County Sheriff’s emblem on the right shoulder and hung it in the closet. “I was thinking maybe we could toss the old pigskin before dinner. What do you say?”
    Through his open window that night as he lay in bed, Cork heard his parents talking as they rocked in the porch swing. Although he couldn’t hear most of the words, he could tell from the tone of her voice that his mother was concerned. His father said something about Cork’s “raccoon eye” and sounded reassuring. Cork didn’t want them worrying about him. And thetruth was that he believed there was nothing for them to be concerned about. Jubal Little had made certain of that. The problem was Cork couldn’t decide exactly how he felt about it, particularly when he recalled the look in Winona Crane’s eyes as she stared at her rescuer. He went to sleep that night hurting in a lot of ways that had nothing to do with his shiner.

C HAPTER 3

    A lthough