The Train of Small Mercies by David Rowell

toward the young reporter.
    â€œLet’s have you and Jamie move into the backyard for a while,” she said. “Miriam has the radio on so loud, it might be a distraction. I know it’s already so hot out, but we have plenty of shade out back.” She took him gently by the arm, as he watched Jamie let himself out a side door.
    â€œThat sounds just fine,” Roy said. “Whatever is convenient for everyone.”
    From the kitchen window Roy watched him now as he settled into a lawn chair under a large oak tree whose trunk bore the faint traces of an old rope swing. Jamie put his crutches on the ground next to him and pushed himself out of the chair once to better adjust himself. He was still looking away. There were two other chairs next to him, and at the end of the spacious lawn Roy saw two big archery targets pocked with holes.
    Mrs. West led Roy out. “Here we are then, Roy,” she said, and turned one of the chairs to face Jamie. “Well, how about this as a little Burton reunion? You two don’t even need any introduction. Jamie, did you know that Roy was working at the paper? Roy says he hasn’t seen you since graduation. Isn’t that what you said, Roy?”
    She had confused what Roy had said about Claire, but there was no need to correct her.
    â€œYes, ma’am,” he said. “Hey there, Jamie. It’s good to see you.” Roy jutted his hand out again, as if sprung from a coil. Jamie studied Roy’s small, delicate hand for a moment before shaking it, and when he stuck his hand out in return, he let a sly smile spread across his face. It looked out of place on him, Ellie thought, and in that moment she barely recognized him.
    â€œMurphy,” Jamie said.
    Roy had consciously not glanced at the missing leg since Jamie had stepped out into the hallway, and he was careful not to now, though it was much harder standing over him like this.
    â€œDo sit down here,” Ellie said to him, and when he did, she couldn’t yet bring herself to step back into the house.
    â€œHow about this,” she said again. Her eyes eventually drifted past them, and when they went to the railroad tracks she said to Roy, “Oh, did you know that the funeral train is going to pass right by?” She pointed out past the edge of their yard, where there were a few more weathered lawn chairs, to the gravel-lined tracks. Beyond the tracks was an expanse of woods, spindly pine trees mostly, half of which were bare.
    â€œThere are a lot of people who’d loved to have a view like that today,” Roy offered. He looked over to the neighbor’s yard for comparison. A good part of it was taken up with liriope, and there were clothes drying on the line, rippling in the breeze like ghosts.
    â€œIt’s all so terrible,” Ellie said. Roy thought that if he didn’t reply, she might have no choice but to leave them alone. He nodded once quickly, then glanced back over to the tracks.
    â€œWell, I’ll let you talk, then,” she said, and she squeezed Jamie’s shoulder before excusing herself.
    Roy opened a page of his notebook and took in Jamie’s face for the first time. There was a watery sharpness to the lines of his jaw now, and he was broader through the shoulders. His hair was growing out from his military cut. Even Jamie’s hands looked bigger, meatier.
    â€œSo, thanks for agreeing to talk to me,” Roy said.
    Jamie’s sly grin had faded, and for the first time he appeared to Roy the way he had back in high school. Handsome, confident, unimpressed by everything around him.
    â€œSo how’s Claire?” Jamie said, in a voice meant to convey his indifference.
    â€œOh, you know, I really wouldn’t know,” Roy said, and tried to make a laughing sound. “I haven’t talked to her in over two years, probably. Yeah. After high school, we just kind of fell out of touch, really. You get into different colleges,