He didn’t go to school the next day. Instead he slunk into town as soon as the sun rose, slipping from street to street and trying to avoid meeting anyone’s eyes. It wasn’t that hard; everyone was avoiding his eyes as well. They’d gone back home and had had a chance to start to feel bad about last night, and now they just wanted to forget about it. Lucky for them, they had that option.

Joe paused in front of Ellie Goodwin’s house. His stomach felt like there was a snake coiled inside it, and his throat went dry. He hated this. He tried to raise his hand to knock, but he couldn’t move. He shouldn’t have to do this. But he couldn’t leave either. So he stood, frozen on the doorstep until the front door opened.

Ellie hesitated before speaking, taking him in with one look. Tired eyes peered wearily out of his small face, and his arms had cuts on them. She had heard about last night, and she’d been expecting him, but she didn’t want him to know that. This was already hard enough for him as it was.

“Come on in, lad.” She said. “Do you want tea?”

Her words made him remember that he hadn’t had any breakfast, but the snake inside him twisted, and he shook his head. Even if there had been food in the house to eat, he wouldn’t have been able to.

“No school today?” Ellie asked as she started making tea. He would want some once he had things cleared up, she knew.

“No. I mean yes.” Well at least his mouth was still working. He’d been starting to doubt. Quickly, before it stopped again, Joe blurted out, “I was wondering if you needed more work done around here.” He knew the answer already, knew that the house didn’t require enough work to justify paying off a window, but he hadn’t had anywhere else to go.

Ellie thoughtfully poured tea into a cup and put some biscuits on a plate. “I suppose you’d be needing money to pay for that window.” She said.

He nodded, his eyes fastened on the floor.

She pursed her lips. He wouldn’t want to take the money for free; he still had some pride that hadn’t been beaten out of him. And she wasn’t about to help society do the beating.

“Come springtime I’m planning on widening my flower garden.” She said. “Can I count on you to work?”

“Yes.” He lifted his head slightly.

“Well then I suppose I can pay you in advance.”

“But spring is…”

“Let me get your money.” She stood, ending the conversation. As she left the room, Joe reached forward for his tea cup and blew on it softly. He still felt slightly sick inside, but it was a different kind of sick. He took a sip of tea. Maybe it would help.

~*~

“So where were you yesterday, Greyer? Hiding?” Jack asked the next day.

Joe didn’t look up from the book Miss West had loaned him. She hadn’t said much, just slipped it onto his desk, and told him he might enjoy it. Joe had studied the cover while she talked about history and he had read the title over and over. Gulliver’s Travels. At lunch he’d settled himself against a tree and had opened it. For a while he’d been able to lose himself in the words, but Jack’s hiss in his ear made him come back.

“Why do you care?” he asked.

“You hit my Pa that night in the saloon.”

Joe inwardly cringed. That had been unfortunate. He’d thought the man was one he knew, but he hadn’t stopped. He’d just pushed. That would teach him. He looked up at Jack.

“So what?” he demanded.

“You don’t go around hitting people, that’s what.”

“Like you?” Joe regretted the words instantly as Jack’s fists clenched. He sighed and stood, Gulliver’s Travels forgotten. “You want to take a swing? Fine.” He didn’t care anymore. Let them hit him. It didn’t change anything, and if it would make Jack leave him alone then it was worth it. But Jack didn’t move.

“You need more than hitting, Greyer. You need to be taught a lesson. My Pa said you attacked him out of nowhere. So that’s what I’m going to do to you.”

“So you’re warning me that you’re going to attack me without warning?” Joe wondered what had gotten into him today. Normally he wouldn’t let his tongue wag like this, but the thought of not talking didn’t even occur to him right now. He sat back down. “Looking forward to it.

“You won’t be so cocky after I’m through with you.” Jack stalked off, and Joe retrieved his book, but after reading a few lines, he tossed it to the side. Why bother reading about other places? The only place that mattered was here, and there was no escaping it.

~*~

The sound of coughing woke him. He had been hearing it in the back of his mind all night, not quite loud enough to wake him from a restless sleep, but still able to echo in his dreams. Then as the sun was just starting to peer over the horizon, the sound leaked into his consciousness, and he opened his eyes.

Elena didn’t even turn when he put his hand on her cheek. It was like touching a flame. He got her some water and helped her sit up to drink it. By her side, Cal snored on, lost in slumber. Joe wondered briefly what he dreamed about, if anything. Probably drinking.

As the water touched her lips, Elena tried to rise and then sank back against the mattress.

“You should rest.” Joe said.

“The hotel…” she moaned and let her head fall sideways. Joe knew what she meant. Daniel Thomas, the hotel’s owner, wasn’t a man given to generosity.

“I’ll take care of it.” Joe stood. It was later than his ma would have usually left, and he ran all the way to town.

Mr. Thomas looked up when Joe pushed through the hotel’s doors, breathing loudly and holding his cramped side.

“Where’s your mother, boy? There’s plenty of work today.”

“So tell me what to do.” Joe said.

Mr. Thomas eyed him for a minute. He’d heard rumors about the Greyer boy. Sullen, angry, prone to fighting. But he also needed his hotel cleaned.

“You can start in the kitchen.” He said.

~*~

Elena’s fever lasted two weeks, and even after it broke it left her too weak to do much, so Joe kept working in the hotel. Ellie Goodwin had let her disapproval of his missing school be known, but Joe had simply shrugged. Truth be told, he wasn’t all that upset about the arrangement. There was no one at the hotel to shove or trip him, and as long as he did his work, Mr. Thomas left him alone. His world had dwindled down to a mop and bucket, and he wasn’t all that upset about it. At least with the dirt he was fighting a battle he could win.

He was on his hands and knees scrubbing the floor when Miss West came in. His back was to the door, and he didn’t look up when he heard it open. Hotel guests ignored, and he enjoyed the blissful invisibility. But a pair of ladies’, button-up boots stopped in front of him, and his eyes journeyed up along a dark red skirt to the face of his school teacher. Joe sat back on his heels, unsure if he should get up.

She saved him the trouble and sat on a chair in the corner. “Keeping busy?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am.” What else was there to say? He knew why she was here, but it wouldn’t make any difference. Even if he had wanted to go back to school he couldn’t. Money didn’t grow on trees. Besides, what was the point? It wasn’t like he was ever going to use the stuff he learned.

“So this is what you do now, Joseph? Instead of learning?” There was no harshness in her words, no judgment. It was as if they were discussing the weather over tea. But Joe still bristled.

“My name is Joe.” He snapped. “And I’m learning enough.”

“How to scrub a floor?” Her eyes swept over the small foyer. It was small, and though it was tidy, there was no disguising the fact that it was a small time hotel in a small time town. A stable business, but only because it was the only one in town. Joe frowned and let his rag fall back into the bucket with a wet slap.

“Well it’s more useful knowledge than anything I learned at school.” He said in a challenging tone. But she only let her thoughtful glance flicker around the room once more before landing on him.

“Why do you say that?” she asked.

Her conversational tone put him off guard. He was used to being hollered at, not being asked to explain himself. Why did she care so much? Even Mr. Herron had been happy when he wasn’t in school; it meant less trouble. He fumbled mentally for the words that would make her understand, but he couldn’t get past the image of her, with her shiny boots and neatly styled hair under a hat that matched her form fitting dress. She was sitting primly on the edge of shambles asking why, and Joe didn’t have an answer except that it was the way things were. He felt a surge of anger.

“What do you mean why?” he spat. “If anyone should be asking why, it’s me. Why should I learn math or reading or writing? It’s not like I’ll ever need to write a letter to anyone or read a contract. It’s not like I’ll ever have cows or sheep or even chickens to count. So why should I sit in class and learn how much I don’t need to know while other kids shoot spit balls at me? Why should I have to take that?” he stopped himself; he’d said too much. That last question was a little too close to what he’d been feeling, and he looked down at his bucket of dirty water. It was enough, he decided, to be able to scrub a floor. Maybe for most people it was less important than learning how to do long division, but it was something he could do without being frowned upon. It was his place.

Miss West didn’t answer for a long time, and Joe remained staring at his dark reflection, wishing that the emotions swirling behind his eyes would just vanish. Then she finally broke the silence.

“Did you finish the book I lent you?”

“No.” She knew he hadn’t.

“Finish it, Joe. Please.” She stood. “And if you have the time when you’re done with it, write down some of your thoughts about it. I’d like to read them.”

Why? He wanted to ask again, but he didn’t. He remained silent as the door shut behind her.

~*~

November had settled in with a vengeance, and Joe found himself finding more and more excuses to hover around Miss Ellie’s warm stove in the following days after Miss West’s visit to the hotel. Occasionally the thought of bringing the book there to read tickled the back of his mind, but he never did. What was the point?

“So how’s your ma?” Ellie asked him one afternoon. Joe had been tracing the design of the tablecloth, his mind several hundred miles away. He looked up with a start.

“Alright. She should be able to go back to work soon.” He knew she wouldn’t stay at home long now that she was able to walk without swaying dizzily. It wasn’t just the money; she couldn’t stand to be home all day under her husband’s thumb. Joe didn’t blame her.

“And then you’ll go back to school?”

Joe sighed. She asked the question lightly, but it was an old argument that he didn’t want to open up again.

“I suppose.” He mumbled.

“When you get to be my age, Joe, you realize when people are lying to you.” She opened the stove to check on the cookies inside. The smell wafted through the kitchen and made Joe’s stomach stir restlessly, but she didn’t take them out yet. Joe dropped his head onto his hand, resigned to the fact that he would be here for a while longer.

“I might as well do something worthwhile like getting a job.” He said. Not many people would hire him; Cal Greyer had burned all those bridges long ago, but maybe he could stay on at the hotel. Or work in the stables. He’d rather spend the day surrounded by horses than people.

“Oh, I see. Get a job and work your life away in this town. Stay here until you die.” She nodded.

Is there any other choice? Joe wanted to ask. More than anything he wanted to leave this town, but where could he go? It was impossible, and so there was no point in trying. At the very least he could make life here more bearable.

Ellie seemed to sense that she’d gone too far. She reached forward and covered his clenched fist with her hand. For a moment Joe stared at it, noticing as if for the first time how frail and paper like it seemed. Miss Ellie had always been a pillar of strength to him, but looking at her careworn face lined with wrinkles, he realized how old she was.

“In life it’s better to regret the things you have done than the things you haven’t.” she said gently. “And it’s often better to try and fail than not to try at all.”

Joe looked back down. It was easy for her to say, he decided. She was at the end of her life looking back, but he was still at the beginning, looking down a long, dark tunnel with no end in sight and no twisting back toward the surface. As much as he wanted to accept her words, he couldn’t. He couldn’t believe that it was possible to change things for the better.