Water's Edge by Robert Whitlow Read Free Book Online Page B

an eye on him while you’re in town.”
    “If you can stand the drool, he won’t give you any problems.”
    Elias left, and Tom turned his attention to the thick slice of coconut pie. He thrust his fork into the meringue and through the creamy filling. The pie was delicious. If eating pie was God’s will, Tom was all for it. He swallowed a bite and pointed his fork at Rover.
    “You’ve made a good first impression. Don’t ruin it.”
    ______
    Later that evening Tom read for a while in the front room with Rover at his feet. In the city the sound of honking horns and the wail of distant sirens were constant. Urban noise numbs the senses and blurs the mind’s ability to think. In the silence of the isolated house, Tom found his senses alert, his mind active. He laid the book on a side table and glanced across at Elias’s study. The door was closed. Tom couldn’t remember exactly what the room looked like. He peered down the hall toward his uncle’s bedroom. If Elias awoke before the sun rose, he probably went to sleep shortly after it set. Tom gingerly walked across the floor. The house was only quiet when he was still. Any movement brought forth creaks and pops that seemed to echo off the walls. Tom approached the closed door and reached out with his right hand to grasp the doorknob. At that moment, Rover let out a loud groan. Tom jumped. The dog, his black tongue hanging out the side of his mouth, rolled over. Tom chuckled and withdrew his hand from the door.
    In the middle of the night, Tom had a nightmare that woke him up. He went downstairs to the kitchen to get a drink of water. At the bottom of the stairs he saw a streak of light beneath the study door. After getting a drink, he returned to the front room. There was noise coming from the study. Tom stopped to listen but couldn’t make out the sounds. Slipping along the wall, he edged toward the door. It sounded like Elias was wrestling with an intruder. Tom put his ear to the door. The mixture of groans and unintelligible words strung together made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Elias had to be praying, but the noise bore as much resemblance to the blessing spoken over supper as a summer breeze bore to an autumn hurricane. Two loud thuds against the floor were followed by a sharp cry. Before Tom could jerk the door open, the cry was followed by the sound of singing.
    Elias had an excellent baritone voice; however, age had made the old man’s vocal cords brittle. Remembering how melodious his uncle sounded in his prime, Tom was saddened by the slightly tremulous voice that came from the study. He recognized the song. It was an old hymn about the blood of Jesus. The message of the song was primitive and barbaric, but Elias seemed to caress the words. The old man sang several verses, stopped for a moment, then started another song Tom didn’t recognize. This one focused on the beauty of a God who can’t be seen but reveals himself in nature. Tom loved the outdoors. Separation from meadows and mountains was one of the chief drawbacks of living in the city. Then Elias stopped singing and started talking. Tom couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like verses from the Bible. Tom suddenly felt like a trespasser. He backed away from the door and returned to bed. He slept soundly through the rest of the night.
    ______
    Early in the morning Tom took Rover downstairs and let him outside. It was a cool fall morning with a thin layer of mist above the dewy ground. Tom stood on the front porch, the wooden planks cold against his bare feet. The morning was quiet except for the distant crowing of a rooster.
    The water from the well made good coffee, and in a few minutes Tom sat at the kitchen table enjoying the first few sips. His father had liked coffee too. It was one trait they had in common.
    Tom stretched out his legs under the table. There weren’t any deadlines to meet, so he didn’t have to gulp the coffee and rush off to the office. He rubbed his hand