Thoreau in Love by John Schuyler Bishop Read Free Book Online Page B

it slowly in dismay. “Ellen stopped laughing and burst into tears. Wailing tears. And ran from the room. Her mother and her aunts went after her. Reverend Sewell is sitting there, glowering at me. He pushes out his chair, says, ‘Come Edmund, time for bed.’ Edmund looked at me with the saddest eyes. And then he was gone. As he closed the door, Reverend Sewell said, ‘Seems we’ll need to find a new school.’ And there we are, the Thoreau boys, alone in disgrace. And John begins to comfort me. . . . Can you believe it? Me, who stole Ellen’s heart. . . . We left the next morning, before anyone else was awake, our tails between our legs like two curs.”
    “What a horrible story.”
    “And the worst of it is, I didn’t really care about John or Ellen. What upset me most was that I’d never see Edmund again.”
    “Are you all right?”
    “I’m glad I’m with you.”
    “Me, too,” said Ben, nudging closer to Henry.
    “It is cold out here,” said Henry, nestling up to Ben..
    “Let me put you under my arm. Skipper says I’m like a furnace.”
    Ben unbuttoned his jacket and awkwardly tried to cover Henry with it.
    “Aren’t you cold?” asked Henry.
    “I’m used to it,” said Ben. “I’ve been cold since I was five years old.”
    “But you sure feel warm.”
    “I grew up in a house like your friend Edmund. On a hill overlooking the ocean, Block Island Sound, the harbor. I loved that house. Lead-white clapboard, green shutters. We had three people working for us.”
    “Nice way to grow up.”
    “But in winter the wind never stops. My father loves Block Island. That’s why they settled there. But it’s too confining for me.”
    “I’d guess everyplace is too confining for you.”
    “You might be right. But, can I ask you something?”
    “Of course.”
    “I’m getting kind of cold. And, well, I was just wondering, I mean I guess you offered me the other bunk, but, you think we could go down to your cabin?”
    Terrified but excited, Henry was mute. Thoughts of Stearns flashed through his mind, Stearns, who was always trying to get Henry to be in touch with his heart, which of course meant become more like the flamboyant Stearns, who was always being taunted for being a pansy.
    “If you don’t want to—”
    “No, no, I’d like that.”
    “You would? But you can’t tell anyone. Specially not the skipper.”
    The moment they stood, Henry realized what he’d agreed to and became even more terrified. What have I done? What am I doing? “You can’t tell either.”
    “Don’t worry. I’m the one who’ll get in trouble.” Comically tiptoeing in an exaggerated fashion, Ben led Henry across the deck. He quietly opened the hatch to the cabins, shushed Henry and tiptoed down the steps. He took the lighted lamp off the bulkhead and hung it from the hook in the cabin. Henry shut and bolted the door—and panicked.
    He and Ben were alone. Now what? Scrunching his shoulders, every muscle in his body tense, Henry cowered in the corner, against the hinges of the closed door. Ben removed his jacket and tossed it on the top bunk. Then he turned and, making a rubbery, comically quizzical Ben face, asked quietly, “What are you doing over there?”
    Henry looked around, shrugged his shoulders.
    “Are you okay?” asked Ben. Again Henry shrugged, then nodded yes. Ben shivered, said, “You know, it is kind of chilly in here. I think I’m going to sleep in my clothes.” He grabbed his jacket and put it back on, then climbed to the top bunk, flipped onto his side, facing Henry, and said, “I usually sleep down there, but do you mind if I take the top bunk?”
    Henry nodded, relaxed, whispered, “Top bunk’s great.” He stepped out of the corner and into the middle of the open space. “It is cold in here, isn’t it?” said Henry. He got into the lower bunk, relieved and thrilled to be in Ben’s bunk, with Ben right above him.
    Ben looked over the side and smiled. “Maybe we can be friends, the