Toby's eyes lit up, then shifted toward Sarah. She thought for a moment, remembering the long nights when she worried the boy would grow up without a trustworthy adult who could take him beyond the walls of the sickroom. "Lunch is all right," she said. "For two hours, and I'll know where you are."
The next Tuesday, Silas took Toby to a small sandwich shop near the old railway tracks. He wore a plain shirt again, and the owner greeted him by his first name rather than his club nickname. They ate roast beef sandwiches, talked about baseball and the weather, and spent twenty minutes discussing the pocket watch's broken mechanism. Silas did not ask the child to keep secrets from his mother, and Toby noticed that more than any advice the man offered.
"Can it be fixed?" Toby asked, holding the watch between his palms. Silas turned it toward the window and examined the hinge without opening the delicate case. "Maybe," he said. "Some things need a part, and some need someone patient enough to learn what isn't working. I'd like to take you to an old clock repairer I know, if Sarah agrees."
Toby grinned for the first time that day. The expression made Silas's chest tighten with recognition, because Elias had smiled exactly that way when an engine that should have stayed dead sputtered back to life. Silas nearly said so, then decided not to burden the child with another comparison. Toby deserved to be himself, even if his face carried the memory of someone else.
At the Rusty Anchor, news of the boy's existence spread more quickly than Silas had hoped. Sal heard it from Nicky, Nicky heard additional details from Mickey, and by the end of the week men who had never met Elias were repeating versions of the story as if they had been present in 1973. Some talked about honor and blood, while others wondered whether Richard Harris had been a man who abandoned his brothers. The arguments grew loud enough one evening that Silas shut down a game of pool and asked everyone to sit.
"You can miss a man and be angry at him," he said. "You can be angry and still admit he had reasons you didn't understand. But his son is ten, and that boy doesn't owe this room an explanation for a single choice his father made." He looked slowly around the tables. "If any of you use his name to settle an old score, you won't be doing it for Elias. You'll be doing it because you miss having an excuse."
Dutch Mercer was the first to speak. He was older than most of the others and had known Elias since before the charter had a sign on its door. "You don't know why he vanished," Dutch said. "Neither do we. Maybe he found peace, and maybe he left us to take the trouble. But the chapter can't become a charity because you feel guilty."
Silas met his gaze. "The chapter won't," he answered. "Sarah hasn't asked for a dollar of club money, and I haven't taken one. This isn't a demand on anybody else. It's a chance for me to do something better than I did fifteen years ago."