The Compass by Deborah Radwan Read Free Book Online

looked at him and then at each other.
    “Yes, it’s a very sad tale. But you must remember, Rudy, it’s not just a made-up story. This is Frederick’s and his father’s story that we are talking about and must be treated with great respect and honor. You must not disgrace the memory by telling your friends casually as you would discuss a football game,” said Yoshito. He continued. “If you share the story, it must be done with great reverence, and with Frederick’s permission.”
    “I haven’t told anyone. I just got really mad when he told me what happened. Frederick seems so nice, so calm. He must have a lot of anger deep inside just bubbling to get out. I know I would.”
    This was the most Jacob had heard Rudy talk and was relieved in an odd way.
    “Anger gets you nowhere, Rudy. Frederick, Jacob, and I all have reasons to be angry, to want to get even. Sometime this summer, we may all share our stories with you.” Jacob glared at Yoshito even as he said this. Surely Yoshito knew he may not want to talk about his past, how hard it was for him.
    Yoshito continued. “You may even have a reason to be angry. Anger is like a boomerang. Even though you aim it at someone else, it always comes back to you. It eats you up instead. The greatest peace you can find is to release the anger, and to do so usually requires great courage and forgiveness. Mahatma Gandhi said that, ‘The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is an attribute of the strong.’ Sometimes it takes years to get to that place, sometimes decades. One must come to a great understanding and attain great compassion to forgive others.” Yoshito had begun speaking to Rudy but finished by aiming his words at Jacob.
    Frederick, who had been standing nearby, sat down and joined the conversation. “You want to know how I got past the anger and the fear, Rudy? It took me decades. I started out the other day asking you if you ever heard of the civil rights movement. That was a big part of my healing, and so was meeting my wife, Estelle, who helped me out of the darkness. In the years following my father’s murder, I became quiet, introverted, kind of a loner, and was angry inside, but I didn’t want any trouble, didn’t want to draw any kind of attention to myself. I also made myself a promise that I was going to get my momma and me out of that godforsaken place if it was the last thing I did. I directed my energies on school and became an honor student, and I worked however many jobs it would take to get me through college. I was a teacher—I’ll bet you didn’t know that about me, did you, Rudy? Taught high school English and literature for thirty five years.”
    “You were a teacher?” Rudy asked incredulously. Frederick, a teacher and married? There were a lot of surprises about Frederick. Rudy thought he had him sized up as just an old man with a garden; now it felt a bit funny to him that he would be sitting having lunch with a teacher.
    “Yes, sir, and I loved every day of it. Each day, I had a chance to mold the thinking of young people like you; try to get them to understand that we are all equal, that anyone can be a doctor or a lawyer or a teacher if they want it badly enough, that no one is better or worse than the next guy. I had the chance to show them different perspectives, experiences and different points of view. Reading and literature can do that: open doors, make you see things differently, allow you to get into another person’s head, see what makes them tick.”
    Frederick continued. “Have you ever read To Kill a Mockingbird ? You’re old enough. You tell your momma to get you that book. It will open your eyes; not only validate the story I told you but also show you that there are people like Atticus Finch in the world. I always thought if I had had a son, I would name him Atticus.”
    Rudy still didn’t understand how any of this had kept Frederick sane, from going out and seeking revenge. Why he hadn’t exploded with