Just Joshua by Jan Michael Read Free Book Online Page B

Joshua’s father didn’t seem to notice that he was there.
    Robert touched his shoulder and repeated the question , more loudly this time, ‘What are you making?’
    The knife stopped moving and Joshua’s father looked up.
    ‘Making?’ he asked.
    It was as if he was waking up, Joshua thought, watching. He never interrupted his father when he was carving. He had always felt that he shouldn’t. And by now he had become accustomed to his silence in the evenings.
    ‘I’m practising,’ Joshua’s father answered at last.
    ‘What for?’ Robert was polite but persistent.
    This time he got no answer. The butcher’s head was bent over the wood. Backwards and forwards went the knife, quietly whittling.
    Robert beckoned Joshua out of the light and around the corner. ‘Why won’t he tell me what he’s making?’ heasked, sounding a little annoyed. ‘He must be making something .’
    ‘Why must he? He just carves.’
    ‘But he carves every night, doesn’t he?’
    Joshua nodded, bored. ‘Most nights.’
    Robert looked thoughtful. ‘Perhaps he carves because he hasn’t got any friends,’ he said.
    ‘Yes, he has,’ Joshua retorted.
    ‘Who, then?’
    ‘Well, Leon, and … Oliver.’ He thought for a moment. ‘And … er … Samuel.’
    ‘They’re just people he has to know for his business. They’re not real friends,’ Robert said, a bit scornfully. ‘I mean, you don’t see him playing cards and dominoes with them in the evening –’
    ‘He doesn’t like games!’
    ‘– or drinking with them,’ Robert carried on, ignoring Joshua’s interruption. ‘And they don’t come to see him, do they?’
    ‘When the shop opened, everyone came,’ Joshua pointed out, hurt.
    ‘Of course they did. Nobody wants to miss a party, even at the meatseller’s.’
    Joshua stiffened.
    Robert’s hand flew to his mouth. ‘Oh Joshua, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean … I just meant … well, he does sell meat, after all.’
    Joshua turned on his heel.
    ‘Hey, Josh, where are you going? Aren’t you coming to watch the tourists?’
    Joshua shook his head and walked away from his friend.

CHAPTER NINE
    Under the low circular roof of the millhouse a grey donkey trudged round and round. It was blinkered and harnessed to a long shaft that was connected to the big, flat millstone. On and on it walked, even though there was no one there to make it, not pausing, not slowing down. As the donkey continued in its circle, the mill turned and ground maize into flour.
    Joshua kept pace alongside the donkey. He hadn’t gone to see Robert at all yesterday, nor had Robert called round to see him. He didn’t care! How dare Robert call his father names!
    He jumped up to sit astride the shaft close to the animal’s neck. Round and round he went too.
    The millhouse was where Joshua liked to come to think. No one would bother him here and the farmer wouldn’t be back to unhitch his donkey before lunchtime.
    Sandwiched between the low roof and the shaft, Joshua could just see a segment of his surroundings as he was carried round in an unceasing circle: here the trunks of coconut tree, there a clump of low-growingbushes. At the opposite curve there was a slice of blue – the sea. Green, blue, bush, sea, round and round they went, calming him and making him drowsy.
    A pair of legs appeared in his line of vision. The knees were familiar. And the skirt – Millie. ‘Hey.’ He was awake at once.
    Millie ran over and jumped on the shaft beside him. ‘I thought you’d be here. We’re going over to Cascas Bay with Dad. You can come if you like.’
    ‘Now?’
    ‘Now.’ Millie jumped down and Joshua followed her. He loved going anywhere by boat, especially as his father didn’t have one. The world spun. He stopped and waited for his head to clear, then ran after Millie to the jetty.
    ‘Hurry up if you’re coming,’ her father called to them from the boat. Tom was already there. They ran down the steps and Tom cast off almost as soon as they