Precipice by J. Robert Kinney Read Free Book Online Page A

reddish-brown, which aged his appearance.
    Adair’s eyes then drifted over the rest of the body. The torn clothing revealed dozens of fresh cuts and bruises that needed treatment, especially one large gash near his knee.
    Will’s fidgeting was constant. He exhibited classic symptoms of stress and anxiety. Though many symptoms are chronic, this particular fidgeting indicated a more pronounced stress of a current or recent trouble. Other symptoms were also evident, as he exhibited a periodic massaging of his neck and upper back, indicating pain. This was indicative of long term stress, undoubtedly caused by the sudden loss of his wife, as well as struggles at work, and other stressors that extended far into his youth.
    Will reached a pause in his long rambling story and the doctor sat for several seconds without saying a word, watching his visitor. Then, he struggled to his feet with the use of his favorite snakehead cane, and turned around, heading for the kitchen. “Would you like more coffee?” Artie asked, despite recognizing the mug had yet to be touched.
    “—what?” The question jolted Will out of his story. He reached for the mug on the table and finally took his first sip. “No—no thank you,” he stuttered. “Were you listening? Maybe I shouldn’t have come here. My being here is putting us both in danger. I should go.” He stood and hurried toward the front door.
    “Now hold on a second, son.”
    Will paused. Arthur poured himself another cup and returned to the living room. “I think I can help you, if only with a little understanding. But first, let me get you cleaned up. Those cuts will get infected if they aren’t washed properly. Follow me.” The doctor ambled past Will and down the hallway, waving for him to follow.
    Will hesitated, unsure how much trust and confidence to place in his old friend. After all, their last conversation took place many years ago, at the wedding. A lot had happened since then. Those were happier times.
    “Hurry up! It’s not like you have much time.” Artie’s voice boomed down the hallway and Will startled at the sudden volume.
    It was surely a sad realization, but Arthur knew Will had no one else to whom he could turn. Sighing, the young man limped after the old family friend deeper into the house.
     
    ***
    “I just don’t understand it. My father, the one I knew, would never be involved in something like that.”
    Artie washed, disinfected, and bandaged Will’s injuries as best he could.
    “You must understand, dear boy, it didn’t start out that way.” Artie had known Will’s parents for years and remained one of their closest friends until the day William Sr. died. “William and I didn’t see eye to eye on much, from politics to religion, but he was a good man. Not blameless—none of us are—but decent and honorable. Both of your parents were. You mother was a wonderful and kind woman who took great care of you…I was sad to see her pass.”
    He paused, choosing his words carefully. “William was a true idealist. He may have been misguided, but he saw this as a means to a better end and believed their work was justified. But eventually reality caught up to his idyllic vision and he recognized it for what it truly was.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “I’ll make it quick, but I must start from the beginning,” he sighed. Artie stood, ambled into the kitchen, and poured himself a glass of water. “Many years ago, a man by the name of Samuel Lee arrived at the office. As you know, your father was quite well-off, one of the wealthiest in the country, certainly in the area. This man, Lee, brought a proposal to him, in the hope William would choose to donate to his organization. They claimed to be a consortium fighting for and promoting peace. They dispatched representatives around the globe to speak to various governments about disarming. Their lobbyists in Washington battled congressmen to stop the sale of guns. They were a tad extreme, but