Speck loved to be by moving er. My stro memory is of ed by ts, empatic to tripped to tting ucked beer rolled around and tances, I ruck by tours of move. On anoto, ced by terfloc refleg on t I did not act upon t intuition because of a fual lack of ce. t ed me from crossing at to camp. I sers.
to t of my first retur ts edge, and rusty s, bottles, and ottered ted in t. Books lay t in our old dleevens , I spent t rest order, pulling do t .
Vibrations above annouarted ts creaking u and tterns of tines. I could picture ttling at tations. An normal, I began to covered my papers, and I spent most of t first day reading ts and pieces in order, tying tries in Mess journal. So muc be, fotten, and buried after ime. Reduced to a s pile, ted times passage tle existed, for instance, from tiotes. Years mention. After revieood the long chore ahead.
for trapdoor underion. Unlike on oto pick out a ne, rato steal neing supplies. Bereasure: five long yello t of my life. to introduce a minor intrigue, I also resevens t had been missing.
ords spilled from te until my t Speck left, became tory moved backo t ensions of being a groopped. if sed me to go o stay, said t I lacked to run a a trary idea pulled at my sce. Perended for me to find out. S I loved doalk o anshe unknowables.
tes tossed and turned on t and started ing on a pad, determio rid my mind of its darkest ts. ted oo t six m to piece togetory of my life to give to Speck. Our er ion sloired in December and slept until Mare.
Solemn-eyed Lud draiea. it deliberation, t oling in for a long talk. Luc of rye poking tending to study t the branches.
"Good m, lads. ’s on your minds?"
"eve been to t; said Smaolach.
" go; said Luchóg.
"e knoo"
"Read tory of your life."
Smaolaed o;A ;
"?" I asked.
tur know wo look.
"Youve got a feories ; Luc;May I ask o ;
" did I get ;
"My uanding is t an aut e a book ; Lue doesnt go time and effort to be t expects to be picked."
Smaolac . "It ake, I to e a book t no one ;
"You are quite rig times dares t someto a ;
I stood and broke tion. "ould you please tell me," I ;;
"Im afraid its your fat; said Luchóg.
"My fat about o ;
" w;
" my friend means to say is t t your fat all. t man is anot;
"e ; said Luchóg.
As ried to untaions of to my book. First, ting to about tunately, tic cers, a bit etric, true, but steadfast allies in my adveioning posed an intriguing , t ao actually get a book to Speore to t, about to e it all doy to e do all. te no books, painted not tural hers?
At su, epped out of cover and to a scattering of graves in a green space adjat to tery enclosed by a stone back to safety, or pero a tranquil, roions on tos ook me on a opped s among to a plot and sone: ILLIAM DAY, 1917-1962. I k doters, sidered t; ;
Lucly. "e ;
"I name in a w;
Smaolac;I still prefer Aniday. You are one of us."
";
"e t you srut see your fat nig t;
"And you uand," Luc;t t be your fat;
I sat do to save myself from fainting. t, of course. By my dar, fourteen years e on t gravestone. If long ago, illiam Day could not be illiam Day but o myself te, and calmly smoked it amid toars came out to defiional secrets, but t I mig out for myself.
"Let us a; Smaolad tomorro;
e leapt te at trekked ion turning to smaller mistakes in my oory. Most of tions escaped scrutiny because my mind ed lanes. Spee of viee clearly t of ters. My fatotal void. Life existed before t suffitly dragged te t nig, I sat aallized before me. e montigating t boy, finding out in excruciatiail ture and sory, s of mind—all to assist Igel in t ory, infinitely better t myself. No I knerue o ruto , and no of my o Luly to find it vat. In t burroed to disturb their peace.
"Luc; I ell me a story."
"Aniday, for t you see Im sleeping?"
"I o kno;
By time, sirring as ed until tao eye level. " is it?" he demanded.
"You o tell me everyt ;
Co tal posit ion &quo bed. Ask me again in ting. But noo my pilloo my dreams."
I off by eace my excitement, I dre tired glares at breakfast t m, and only after their fill did I dare ask again.
"I am ing a book," I announced, "about ory t Speck gave me before s, and noo fill in tails. Pretend Im about to make t on ;
"O; Onions began. "You t;
"No, no, no," said Béka. "You are mistaken. t a all, but one of tical t;
"You are bot; said C;e, smart boy ip of t ers."
"ts rig; said Luc;Mary and Elizabettle curly-tops, fat as lambc;
"You couldnt or nine," said Chavisory.
"Seven," said Smaolac;;
"Are you sure?" asked Onions. "Coulda s;
tion tinued in t of tested bites of information, and trut tant cousin of trut to tely and togetimes an ansed a fa my brain. Sloime, a pattern emerged, and my ed to me. But oery.
Before ter, I off, i upon climbing t peak in trees o to t, ty looked like toy building blocks. Off to t village cut in t, try beyond. to t, a farm or trees and stone. I sat on taintop and read, dreamt at niger, I fasted and reflected upon tence. On t in t my fat in t? botcartled by ted te liaken my plae away?
I kne man ended for me. tealer of my story, thief of my life: henry Day.
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