The Keeper of Dawn by J.B. Hickman Read Free Book Online Page B

he said, jabbing a finger in my direction.
    “It’s your … your circle there.”
    “My circle ?”
    “The circle you walk around. The worn carpeting there in the
floor.”
    “Circle?” He looked about the floor. “I don’t see a circle.”
    “You don’t see that circle?” I stood up and pointed
out what was obviously right in front of him.
    “No, as a matter of fact I do not. Can’t see much without my
specs these days.” He went to the recliner, put on his glasses, and reexamined
the floor. “All I see is the carpeting.”
    “You don’t see the circle? That pattern there in the
carpeting?”
    “Absolutely not. If you must know, the human mind thinks
best when a person walks.” Grandfather pointed to his temple for emphasis. “Modest
exercise gets the blood flowing to stimulate the brain. Some of the world’s
most brilliant ideas have been conceived while walking, or when performing some
trivial task. I think best when I’m up and about. Besides, it’s good exercise.”
    He resumed his slow pace around the circle, though his
stride was a bit defensive, and he kept glancing at me to make sure I was
paying attention.
    “I’ve done a good deal of walking and thinking in
this room, so naturally it’s taken a toll on the carpeting. Now, where were
we?”
    “You were saying you stick your nose in everyone’s
business.”
    He looked at me crossly. “I see you were listening. I
admit I tend to meddle. It’s my nature, and like I said, it’s carried down to
your father. It’s a cumbersome trait that comes with the Hawthorne name.”
    “So what kind of things did you and David talk about?”
    “Maybe you’ll just have to drop by some time and find
out.”
    “Monday afternoon.”
    “What?”
    “Mother has City Council meetings Monday evenings, so she
won’t notice if I get home late. Every other month she has it at our house, so
I’d have to skip that week.”
    “I see you’ve got this all thought out. Okay, so if you were
to visit Monday afternoons, it must be completely on your own accord. You
understand your parents would not very much approve?”
    “I understand.”
    “Very well then,” he concluded, smiling down on me as I
imagined grandfathers often do upon their grandchildren.
    We spent the rest of the time discussing more lighthearted
topics, which apparently didn’t require as much thought, for Grandfather
retired from his walking circle to his recliner. As the weeks went by, I would
learn that he told jokes and stories of days gone by from the recliner, leaving
his walking circle that he refused to acknowledge for more thought-provoking
discussions.
    “And one more thing, young man,” he said as I was leaving. “I
do very much like to fish!”

CHAPTER 4: RHODE ISLAND FOLKLORE
     
     
     
    “Why, yaw from all over, aren’t ya, three-seventy-five?”
Chet said, examining my mother’s letter from New Hampshire. “So where do ya
hang yaw hat?” When I told him I was from New York, he just nodded like he had
suspected it all along. “How could I fawget? Musty, from Brooklyn. Ya just got
yawself girls stashed all over, don’t ya? They don’t perfume their letters, but
ya don’t fool me, three-seventy-five. Ya don’t fool me one bit.”
    It hadn’t taken long to learn Chet had a nose like a
bloodhound. The fact that he smelled every letter before giving it to
its rightful owner became an ongoing joke.
    “Nothing quite like the smell of greenbacks,” he would say,
which was music to our ears, as it always foretold of money from home.
    I crossed the cafeteria and joined Benjamin at our table by
the window. Immersed in a comic book, he hardly glanced up. Outside, students
trekked through the drizzle that had been nonstop all morning. The lighthouse
and clock tower were obscured in fog.
    I hesitated before opening Mother’s letter. Despite being the
wife of a judge and daughter of a former New York State Senator, Diane
Hawthorne hadn’t taken to law or politics. Though she