The Devil's Wire Read Online Free Page B

game.
    "Her father gave her that cap," says Jennifer. "We've never even been to Cleveland."
    "She's very pretty."
    "What about you? Do you have kids?"
    "A son. He lives in Texas."
    Mrs. Mendoza offers Jennifer a mint.
    "I'm good," says Jennifer.
    Jennifer closes her folder and pauses. This was the part she hated. This was why she would not choose the human eye if she could begin again.
    "Have you heard of macular degeneration, Mrs. Mendoza?"
    "Dios Mio! You're telling me I'm going blind?"
    Jennifer looks at her pretty olive skin and nicely fixed curly black hair and beach shell eyes that will soon close off the world around her.
    "Vision impaired."
    "Blind."
    "Legally blind. There's a difference. You'll still have some sight."
    "I don't believe it." Mrs. Mendoza looks at her hands. "Are you sure? How can you know for certain?"
    Jennifer says nothing, gives it a few seconds to sink in.
    "You must have had trouble with your sight for some time. If you'd come sooner, we could have done more – medication, surgery. We still can try some of those things but I want to be frank, your condition is highly advanced. Significant nerve damage has already occurred and there's cell loss."
    "English please."
    "It's bad."
    "How long?
    "It's difficult to say."
    "Try."
    "It varies. I know that's not helpful but I really can't be any more specific than that."
    "You know I'm just going to Google it."
    "Five years, maybe, before it gets really poor."
    Mrs. Mendoza stares numbly at some midpoint in the distance. Outside a truck passes and rattles the windows.
    "I was going to travel."
    Jennifer reaches for Mrs. Mendoza's hand, still balled in a fist, mints at its center.
    "There's time."
    Mrs. Mendoza lifts her head and looks past Jennifer, out the small picture window.
    "Sometimes I think the morning light could be butter."
    "There are courses you can take to prepare," says Jennifer. "Arrange for a helper dog."
    "I hate dogs."
    Jennifer pauses.
    "Is there someone I can call? Your son?"
    "I'll be alright."
    Jennifer gives her a tissue and Mrs. Mendoza wipes roughly at each eye. Jennifer wonders about the last thing they will ever see.
    "Mrs. M?"
    "Yes."
    "Can I give you a hug?"
    *
    After Mrs. M there were two cases of eye ulcers, a new pair of reading glasses, subcapsular cataracts and a thirteen-year-old girl called Georgia whose special effect contact lenses had fused to her sclera, but no police. The neighbor, Lenise, hadn't said anything after all. Jennifer glances at the phone, thinks about calling the vet and her stomach contracts in a spasm. What if the dog hadn't made it? But death wasn't inevitable, was it? After all, it may have only been a badly fractured leg and dogs weren't like horses that had to be put down because of broken limbs. Even a three-legged dog wasn't an impossibility these days.
    She picks up her car and on her way home calls into Treasure Trove and buys the most expensive gift box she can find. It is more hamper than box, filled with luxury food items like handmade Swiss chocolates, sugared almonds, preserved Turkish lemons and goose liver pate, all done up in cellophane and an enormous golden bow. Then she walks the block to Pet Smart and purchases a rubber chicken chew toy, a bag of beef bones and a brand new leather collar.
    It's a little after six when she pulls into her driveway and there's no movement at Lenise's house but a beat-up station wagon is parked haphazardly outside. Jennifer takes two belly-deep breaths and gets out of the car, hugging the gift boxes, one under each arm, and crosses the road.
    She faces the hardwood door and the large brass pigeon knocker and puts down the box of dog treats to extend a trembling hand and raps the beak against its round, medal-sized counterpart.
    A man of about twenty answers. Like Lenise, there's a mop of dark ginger hair. The family resemblance is striking.
    "I'm Jen from across the road."
    He glances at the packages. "I know who you are."
    "Is Lenise here?"
    He looks