rattle.”
He took her hand in his. “I’m sorry, okay? I wouldn’t have hired the guy if I knew you would react so strongly.” He said this clearly, no qualifications. It was easy to apologize for something he didn’t have any intention of changing. “I thought I was doing good here, giving a second chance to a person who’s paid his debt to society.”
She started to say something, then thought for a moment. “You know that half my practice is women who have been abused in some way. I hear their stories every day. Their abusers get out of jail after a few years and move on—and those are the ones who even get convicted. The women never escape, especially from rape.”
“So David Rigero should be locked up forever, throw away the key? Or let him out with no job and no future?”
“I didn’t say that. But you didn’t have to hire him.”
“Right, I should have just let him pick from all the other job offers he had.”
They rode on in silence. Amy rarely let arguments die out like this, with his getting the last word. He wished it would happen more often. In a few minutes he turned onto Fox Run and into their driveway. He switched off the engine and opened his door. She stayed in her seat, holding the Burger World bag. He never realized how idiotic the grinning cow looked.
“Coming?” he said.
She looked over at him. “I never want to meet this man, Simon.”
He nodded. But Red Paint was a small town. It was impossible to say that any two people might not meet some day.
By tradition the editor of the Register sat at the original oak desk facing the arching window that overlooked Mechanic Street and the tree-lined Common. When he bought the paper ten years ago Simon Greenleaf Howe did as his predecessors for the last century, letting anyone who wanted see into the offices, day or night.
He sat alone now in the editorial room late Tuesday, production day. The overhead fluorescent lights swayed in the stiff currents of air coming from two floor-size fans in opposite corners. There was the faint hum of the large air conditioning units from the municipal offices next door. Otherwise not a sound. He felt groggy, as if overwhelmed by some sleep-inducing aerosol injected into the office. He rubbed his eyes, trying to bring focus to the page-one proof on his desk and the last-minute story that needed his attention.
Mother and Child Saved
from Fiery Crash
by Ellen Collins
Randall Caine admits he’s an impulsive man. Fortunately for one little girl, the auto mechanic didn’t think twice when he saw the Chevy Malibu in front of him skid off Dakin Road and burst into flames Monday evening. The 27-year-old Caine literally jumped into the fire to rescue a battered and bruised Viola Lang, age 5.
The driver, Jennifer Lang, 29, was able to crawl from the burning wreck on her own. Mother and child are recuperating at Bayview Hospital in stable condition. The car and its contents were destroyed, except for a pair of lucky dice hanging from the rearview mirror, which were thrown clear during the spinout.
Firemen from the Northside Firehouse were practicing ladder techniques in Portland that day and arrived at the scene only in time to douse the smoldering car. For his bravery, Caine is being hailed as “the hero of Dakin Road” by Mayor Joseph Samuels, who later this week …
Simon pictured the scene—Randy Caine in his blood red RAISIN’ CAINE AUTO PARTS T-shirt plunging into the fire to save a little girl. Randy wasn’t a guy to hesitate while considering consequences. There probably weren’t any consequences worth considering in his world. There was just plunging into the fire or not. This time he plunged. Simon circled the headline with his black marker and wrote, “Inc to 36 pt.” In the body of the story he crossed out literally. How else could a person jump? He drew a line through the whole Northside Firehouse sentence. There was no need to portray the local firemen as practicing at their job while a car burned. It would gall them enough that a Caine, not exactly the first family of Red Paint, was being lauded for courage. The town rowdy had become a hero, and what was Mayor Samuels to do, give Randy a Get Out of Jail Free card? No doubt he would need it soon enough. Simon drew a star in the margin at the dice being thrown clear during