Dirty Faces - Book 2

Chapter 29: Something

Chapter 29: Something

Tommy plopped down on the big bed he and Danny shared, the one that used to be Rowdy's, and opened up the comic book he'd bought the day before. He leafed through several pages then turned his attention to Rowdy. He lay on his small bed with a thick book open, brows knit together in deep concentration. "Since when do you read anything other than comic books?" Tommy inquired.

Rowdy sighed and closed the book, more annoyed that he had not found what he was looking for than with Tommy's interruption. "I dunno," he answered with a shrug. It was a lie and a weak one at that, but it still sounded less foolish than the truth. At the very least it had satisfied Tommy. He returned to his comic book, disinterested in Rowdy and the reference book he'd been studying.

Rowdy got up from his bed and walked out of the bedroom, taking the book with him. He was disappointed to have found nothing in this one, but perhaps the next could at least point him in the right direction. He hoped it would be the case but he didn't really believe it. It was laughable to think that he, a kid without even a single hair on his chest, could discover a cure for what ailed Ginny's mother. He'd been spending all his free time poring over Uncle Frank's medical volumes in hopes of finding something Uncle Frank had missed or maybe even forgotten. He was really old after all.

He didn't understand most of what was in the books, but once in a while he would stumble across pictures, diagrams, or some terms he recognized. Regrettably, he was beginning to realize that if he were to come across what he was looking for, he'd probably never know it.

Turning the corner into the parlor, Rowdy was startled to find Uncle Frank there, his reading glasses on, an open Bible in his lap. He hadn't expected him to be home this early. Treading lightly across the room to the bookshelves, careful to not disturb his uncle during his study, Rowdy hoped he'd abandon said studies and tell him the latest.

Lately, Uncle Frank had been going to Ginny's house most evenings to tend to her mother. Rowdy was forbidden to assist him, though, because he said it was "too close" for him. Ginny didn't come to town anymore, which in itself told Rowdy more than enough. Uncle Frank had, however, broken his rule of not discussing patients with which Rowdy did not assist him. He said he bent this rule because he could see the benefit of teaching Rowdy to manage the care of such a case. Rowdy knew, though, it was really just a courtesy to him, that Uncle Frank knew his concern and couldn't allow himself to keep him in the dark.

Rowdy slipped the book back onto the shelf somewhere near where he'd found it and selected another he hadn't yet looked through. When he turned around, he found Uncle Frank had been watching him. His reading glasses had come off and he looked curious. "I can't help but notice your sudden interest in my medical literature, Joseph," he observed.

"Yes, sir. I hope you don't mind me using your books."

"Not at all. Is there anything in particular you're looking for? Perhaps I could guide you to the appropriate volume."

"No, sir. Nothing in particular."

Uncle Frank, still wearing that curious face, studied him a moment before putting his reading glasses back on. "Very well."

Rowdy walked across the parlor with the new book but stopped at the doorway and turned back around. "Uncle Frank?"

His uncle looked up from his Bible and once again removed his glasses. "She is as well as can be expected."

Rowdy wondered what other of his thoughts Uncle Frank could read. He wasn't sure, though, if he was referring to Ginny or her mother, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to. "I just wish there was something I could do," he said, more to himself than Uncle Frank.