The Lost Saint
Page 33

“Of course.” I fastened my seat belt as we pulled from the parking lot onto the street. “Um … you’re not following me around, right?”
“Self-absorbed much?” Talbot chuckled.
The sound of his laugh again triggered those warm waves through my body. It made me shiver.
“I’m the one who should be asking you that, don’t you think?” Talbot asked. “You going to show up at my dorm room next?”
I blushed. “No, um, it’s just weird to see you again.”
Talbot stopped at a red light. “Weird creepy, or weird pleasant?”
He smiled at me again, making his dimples super-pronounced. Why did he make me feel like I was curled up in a warm blanket on a cold winter afternoon? And how could the feeling be comforting, yet disturbing at the same time? I looked away so he wouldn’t notice the flush of heat in my face.
“Weird pleasant, I guess.”
Talbot flipped the blinker on and pulled the van onto the highway. We headed in the direction of the city. I felt a little thrill of anticipation that I might get another chance to look for Jude.
“You saved me some trouble anyway,” Talbot said.
“How’s that?”
“Now I don’t have to try to track down your number. Although I doubt there are many Divines out there.”
Crap, I blushed even more now. What was wrong with me? “You were going to look up my number?”
“Your friend dropped her bracelet at the club. I figured she’d want it back, but she didn’t tell me her last name. But yours was hard to forget. I’ve got the bracelet in my bag in the back. Remind me to give it to you before you leave.”
“Oh, okay.” A little rush of relief calmed the burning in my cheeks. Of course he hadn’t wanted to call me just for the sake of calling me. “So where are we headed anyway?”
“I’ve got about twenty boxes of donated books in the back of the van. We’re taking them to the library on Tidwell Street. Most of their books started falling apart about a decade ago.”
“That’s it?”
“What, not exciting enough for you?”
“I don’t know, I guess I expected something a little more hands-on. I don’t really get the point of me being here just to help deliver some books.”
“You’re here because I’m supposed to teach you the finer points of helping your fellow man. Charity work isn’t always glamorous. Yeah, some weeks we get assigned to feed the needy or help build a house in a weekend, but half of what I do is just deliveries.” He adjusted his hat. “But don’t worry, we’ll get pretty hands-on eventually.”
I shot a surprised look at him even though my face blazed more than before.
“What?” He smirked. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid to get your hands dirty? Because if you’re one of those kids who gets freaked out by homeless people or is too worried about breaking a nail to swing a hammer, I should just turn this van around right now and ask for a new partner.…”
“What? No. First of all, I’m not a kid. I’ll be eighteen in three months. And I am most definitely not afraid to get my hands dirty.” I didn’t know why, but I felt the urge to justify myself to Talbot—prove myself or something. Maybe it was because Gabriel had made so many assumptions about me after our first meeting, and I didn’t want Talbot to do the same. “Charity work isn’t exactly new to me. My dad’s a pastor. We used to do stuff like this all the time. You know how many hours I used to spend helping out with food drives and volunteering at the shelter?”
“Used to? Why do you say used to?”
I stared out the window, watching the pedestrians on the street. We were in the city now, so I wanted to keep my eye out for anyone who might look like Jude. “Things have been complicated lately. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to make a difference to anybody.”
“Well, now’s your chance.” Talbot pulled into a deliveries-only parking place outside the library. We each got out, and I met him at the back of the van.
Tidwell Library sat only a few blocks from Markham Street and The Depot. I checked out the faces of every person on the street. I knew Jude could be somewhere nearby, but if this place was anything like Markham, the neighborhood would be deserted by the time the sun went down.
Talbot opened the van’s back doors. “Come on, let’s get started.”
I pulled out a box and almost fell over because of the weight of the thing. I finally steadied myself and looked over at Talbot. He had three boxes of the same size stacked in his arms.
“You can do better than that, kid,” he said, with a little goading jab in his voice on that last word.
“Yeah, right.”
I thought it would take a million years to unload all those boxes into the library, but Talbot carried in six boxes for every one that I managed to haul in. I hated looking weak in front of him, and I finally got annoyed enough with myself that I managed to muster up a burst of strength that helped me carry in two boxes on my last trip. Considering how much easier it was, I wished I had been able to do that in the first place. But I guess I didn’t really want Talbot to notice my disproportionate girl-to-upper-body-strength ratio.
“That’s more like it,” Talbot said as he held the door open for me on his way out. I carried the last two boxes to the information desk and left them with the librarian.
“So where to now?” I asked when I got back to the van, feeling like I’d gotten a second wind. “Can we go paint over some graffiti or something?”
“Not sure what we have time for, kid.” Talbot pulled off his hat. His wavy brown hair all squashed against his head made him look like the kid. He reached up to sweep his hand through his hair. But then he dropped his hat and whirled around. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
I concentrated hard, holding my breath until I felt that stinging irritation in my ears. Then I heard it, too: a woman’s scream. It sounded so close in my ears that I thought she must be only a few yards away, but the street was dusky and deserted except for Talbot and me. It could have come from a couple blocks away for all I knew.
“Come on!” Talbot said. “We’ve got to help.”
“What? No. We should call the police!” I reached for my phone in my pocket.