While Emmett was explaining this, Billy didn’t shake his head in disagreement or argue that Emmett was making a mistake. He seemed to understand that what Emmett was doing was the right thing to do. But if Emmett was going to plead guilty without a hearing, then Billy wanted him to promise one thing.
—What’s that, Billy?
—Promise me that whenever you feel like hitting someone in anger, first you’ll count to ten.
And not only had Emmett promised to do so, they had shaken on it.
Nonetheless, Emmett suspected that if Duchess were there right now, ten might not be a high-enough number to do the trick.
* * *
By the time Emmett entered the dining hall, it was filled with the clamor of sixty boys talking all at once. Any dining hall crowded with boys was likely to be loud, but Emmett guessed this one was louder than usual as they relived the events of the morning: the sudden appearance of a mysterious confederate who delivered jars of jam after locking the sisters in their rooms. From his time in Salina, Emmett knew that the boys weren’t simply reliving the events in service of their excitement. They were reliving the events in order to establish them in lore—to settle upon all the key particulars of this story that was sure to be told in the halls of the orphanage for decades to come.
Emmett found Billy and Sister Agnes sitting beside each other in the middle of one of the long monastic tables. A half-eaten plate of French toast had been pushed aside to make room for Billy’s big red book.
—I should have thought, Sister Agnes was saying as she laid a finger on a page, that your Professor Abernathe would have included Jesus in place of Jason. For surely He was one of the most intrepid travelers of all. Don’t you agree, William? Ah! Here is your brother!
Emmett took the chair opposite Sister Agnes since the chair opposite Billy was occupied by his backpack.
—Can we offer you some French toast, Emmett? Or perhaps some coffee and eggs?
—No, thank you, sister. I’m fine.
She gestured to the backpack.
—I don’t think you’ve had the opportunity to tell me where you two were headed when you chanced into our company.
Chanced into our company, thought Emmett with a frown.
—We were just taking Duchess—or Daniel—and another friend to the bus station in Omaha.
—Ah, yes, said Sister Agnes. I think you did mention that.
—But the trip to the station was just a detour, said Billy. We are actually on our way to California.
—California! exclaimed Sister Agnes, looking at Billy. How exciting. And why are you headed to California?
So Billy explained to Sister Agnes about their mother leaving home when they were young, and their father dying of cancer, and the postcards in the box in the bureau—the ones their mother had mailed from nine different stops along the Lincoln Highway on her way to San Francisco.
—And that’s where we’re going to find her, concluded Billy.
—Well, said Sister Agnes with a smile, that does sound like an adventure.
—I don’t know about an adventure, said Emmett. The reality is that the bank foreclosed on the farm. We needed to make a fresh start and it seemed sensible to do so in a place where I can find work.
—Yes, of course, said Sister Agnes in a more measured manner.
She studied Emmett for a moment, then looked at Billy.
—Are you finished with your breakfast, Billy? Why don’t you clear your things. The kitchen is right over there.
Sister Agnes and Emmett watched as Billy placed his silverware and glass on his plate and carried them carefully away. Then she turned her attention back to Emmett.
—Is something wrong?
Emmett was a little surprised by the question.
—What do you mean?
—A moment ago, you seemed a little put out when I echoed your brother’s enthusiasm over your journey west.
—I suppose I’d rather you hadn’t encouraged him.
—And why is that?
—We haven’t heard from our mother in eight years and have no idea where she is. As you’ve probably sensed, my brother has a strong imagination. So when possible, I try to help him steer clear of disappointments—rather than heap on cause for more.
As Sister Agnes studied Emmett, he could feel himself shifting in his chair.
Emmett had never liked ministry. Half the time it seemed like a preacher was trying to sell you something you didn’t need; and the other half he was selling you something you already had. But when it came to people of the cloth, Sister Agnes unnerved him more than most.
—Did you happen to notice the window behind me? she asked finally.