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Farewell Summer ~ Ray Bradbury - Marimarister

Farewell Summer ~ Ray Bradbury - Marimarister

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CHAPTER NINETEEN<br />

Grandpa‘s library was a fine dark place bricked with books, so anything could happen<br />

there and always did. All you had to do was pull a book from the shelf and open it and suddenly<br />

the darkness was not so dark anymore.<br />

Here it was that Grandpa sat in place with now this book and now that in his lap and his<br />

gold specs on his nose, welcoming visitors who came to stay for a moment and lingered for an<br />

hour.<br />

Even Grandmother paused here, after some burdensome time, as an aging animal seeks<br />

the watering place to be refreshed. And Grandfather was always here to offer cups of good clear<br />

Walden Pond, or shout down the deep well of Shakespeare and listen, with satisfaction, for<br />

echoes.<br />

Here the lion and the hartebeest lay together, here the jackass became unicorn, here on<br />

Saturday noon an elderly man could be found underneath a not too imaginary bough, eating<br />

bread in the guise of sandwiches and pulling briefly at a jug of cellar wine.<br />

Douglas stood on the edge of it all, waiting.<br />

―Step forward, Douglas,‖ said Grandfather.<br />

Douglas stepped forward, holding the gunnysack in one hand behind his back.<br />

―Got anything to say, Douglas?‖<br />

―No, sir.‖<br />

―Nothing at all about anything?‖<br />

―No, sir.‖<br />

―What you been up to today, son?‖<br />

―Nothing.‖<br />

―A busy nothing or a nothing nothing?‖<br />

―A nothing nothing, I guess.‖<br />

―Douglas.‖ Grandpa paused to polish his gold-rimmed specs. ―They say that confession is<br />

good for the soul.‖

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