Farewell Summer ~ Ray Bradbury - Marimarister
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.‖