Phantom by Thomas Tessier Read Free Book Online Page A

really think all we have to do is what we
have been doing: watch out for anything that might go wrong or harm
our son, but otherwise leave him room enough to grow his own
way."
    "You're telling me I worry too much."
    "We already know that, honey."
    Michael picked up the remote control for the
television. Like a fisherman casting onto a lake, he raised his arm
above his head and then swung it down, pointing the device at the
set and at the same time thumbing a button to turn it on. He
repeated the movements half a dozen times, patrolling the channels
until he found one that was acceptable.
    Poor Lin. She did get in these moods from
time to time. There wasn't much he could do about it either, except
to be as calm and reasonable as possible. He knew there was really
no way to talk her out of it; you just had to try to help her work
her own way back. It was understandable. First, there was the move
to Lynnhaven, coming after years of living in a city. That would
take her a while to adjust to, but he was confident she would with
no real trouble. The move itself wasn't wrong, it was in fact the
very thing they had worked for for so long. Second, of course, was
her health—not always a conscious fear, perhaps, but a very real
one all the same. She must wonder every day if she might be about
to suffer another devastating attack like the one five years ago.
The doctors had no explanation for it either. Linda had been
asthmatic from childhood, she had bouts of wheezing and troubled
breathing now and then. The inhalers kept it under control very
nicely. But that attack, the overwhelming severity of it ... It had
happened only that one time in her life so far, but the threat of a
rerun was a terrible thing to live with. Well, he had made their
house as safe as he could. They had enough air conditioners,
purifiers, dust removers, humidifiers and ionizers to open a small
appliance store. Third, Ned was their only child. If they'd had
others, even only one more, maybe the focus of her anxieties would
not be so circumscribed and intense. But the doctors had advised
against another child. Not the happiest of situations, but it was
obviously more sensible to make the most of it and enjoy the one
child they were fortunate enough to have than to ache for the ones
that would never be.
    Michael was sure that everything would sort
itself out in time. Lynnhaven was a nice town and they had a lovely
house. He could be happy here for the rest of his life. The house
had character. A large and roomy saltbox with two fireplaces, it
was situated on a good four acres of land. A sensational
investment, too. Sooner or later, sadly but inevitably, more people
would rediscover Lynnhaven, and when they did property values would
soar. Not that Michael could ever imagine selling the place, but it
was nonetheless comforting to know that his home was destined to
appreciate significantly—dramatically, even—in the years to come.
All in all, they had done well and were in a good position.
    But try to tell that to Lin.
     
     
    * * *
     
     
    4. A Very Special
Room
     
    It was the best room in the house. It was
outer space and inner earth, the triumph of a young boy's mind.
    It was: stamps and coins and a handed-down
set of old Hardy Boys mysteries and crab shells with bits of gooey
stuff still sticking to them in places and strangely colored rocks
and dried out worms and acorns and horse chestnuts and a microscope
and a telescope and a salamander in a bowl of mud and comics and
all kinds of cards and a cherry bomb hidden for an occasion that
would be known only when it came and carved sticks and a jack knife
and waterproof matches and a canteen and a pocket magnifying glass
for frying Japanese beetles and a rabbit's foot and a shell plugged
up with a dead snail and ...
    It was the best room in any house. It was a
boy's room. Here and only here could magic forces be found. The
Invisible Weights, which on certain mornings anchored your arms and
legs so that you