The Good Thief by Hannah Tinti Read Free Book Online

the fireplace in a nightshirt, the shotgun steady in his hand.
     
    When the farmer recognized the boy a look came over him, almost as if he was ashamed, and he lowered the shotgun, peering for a moment down the front of his nightshirt. When he raised his face again he said, “Seems you found someone to take you after all.”
     
    Ren didn’t know what to say. Then he remembered that he wasn’t supposed to say anything, and felt relieved.
     
    “William’s asleep,” said the farmer. “But I’m sure he’ll be pleased to see you in the morning.” He turned to Benjamin and extended his hand. “We’ve also got a boy from Saint Anthony’s.”
     
    “Ah,” Benjamin replied, as if he didn’t quite understand. Then he said it again—“Ah!”—and began to pump the farmer’s hand enthusiastically.
     
    They took their seats around the table and the farmer’s wife quickly got the fire going, made some coffee, and served out the remains of a cold meat pie. Ren shoveled the food in his mouth. It was just as he’d imagined. The beef was soft and flavorful, the vegetables slippery with gravy, the crust crimped in a perfect pattern that left the taste of fresh butter on his lips. The men watched Ren eat and discussed the best roads to Wenham. When they had cleaned their plates, the farmer offered Benjamin some tobacco and the men pulled their chairs to the hearth.
     
    The farmer’s wife took down a jar from a high shelf and opened it. She removed something twisted and black. She handed it to Ren and the boy stared at it, unsure of what to do.
     
    “It’s licorice,” she said. And when he continued to stare she said, “You eat it.”
     
    Ren held the piece of candy to his nose. The scent was strange but not entirely unappealing. The farmer’s wife stood by, her face amused. The boy carefully put the licorice inside his mouth. The consistency was soft, the flavor more of a scent than a taste. There was something in it that turned his stomach. He looked up at the woman and tried to smile.
     
    “We’re going to my uncle’s farm,” said Benjamin. “I haven’t been there in years.”
     
    “You’ve been traveling,” said the farmer.
     
    Benjamin nodded. “I served as a cook on a merchant ship. We put into Boston three weeks ago.”
     
    Ren stopped chewing his licorice.
     
    The farmer lowered his pipe. “And what countries have you seen?”
     
    “I’ve been to China. And to India, once.”
     
    “What’s it like?”
     
    “Hot.” Benjamin pulled on his pipe, released a stream of smoke, and leaned forward. “Like summer all year round. The food is too spicy to eat, and the jungles are full of giant snakes that can swallow men whole.”
     
    “It sounds frightening,” said the farmer’s wife.
     
    “It made me appreciate New England,” said Benjamin. “I longed for snow.”
     
    “See if you can find some extra blankets, Mary,” said the farmer.
     
    The woman drew away from the table. She climbed a ladder that leaned against the chimney and disappeared into a crawl space over their heads. The men continued smoking and watching the fire.
     
    “You have a wife?”
     
    Benjamin hesitated for only a moment. “Not yet.”
     
    “So the boy goes to your relatives?”
     
    “To my aunt and uncle. They’ve no children of their own.”
     
    The farmer glanced at Ren, then turned back to the fire and lowered his voice. “Did you not notice?”
     
    “What do you mean?”
     
    “He’s damaged.”
     
    “That’s why I chose him.”
     
    “But you said that they were farmers. He’ll be no use to them.”
     
    “They wanted a companion, not a laborer,” said Benjamin, “and the boy has other qualities.”
     
    The farmer and Benjamin Nab turned in their seats together and looked at Ren, who was in the process of spitting what was left of the licorice into his hand.
     
    “Tell the man what you can do,” Benjamin said.
     
    They all waited, the fire popping.
     
    “I can whistle,”