The Bureau of Dreams to be Continued by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview

The Bureau of Dreams to be Continued

Page 87

defy the law and rescue him. Instead, in her absence, the bells of hell split the dismal morning and he saw all of the kids forming lines. “The tigers don’t even have to bother running and pouncing,” he thought; “The sheep are trained to make it easy for them.” He gripped the chain link fence tighter, maybe trying to rip open an escape route and riveted his eyes on the apartment door, hoping for some last second miracle. Sensing the end, his crying became as violent and wet as the time some kid told him that there was no Santa Claus. He felt a hand rest gently on his right shoulder. He turned around, trying unsuccessfully to hide his tears and saw the lady who he would soon find out was called Old Miss Gracing.

She said; “Come on, now. You don’t want to be late, do you?

“I’m trying my best.”

She reached for his hand, which he pulled away and she said; “Trust me. No one wants to hurt you.”

Though the “trust me” reminded him of some used car ads he had seen on television, her kind, smiling face compelled him to take her hand. At least this one didn’t look like an Indian after his scalp. He said; “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

She said; “You can’t think like that;” a phrase that would come to mean more to him with each passing year, but right now his