Read Online The Man Who Was Left Behind by Rachel Ingalls - Free Book Online

her lunch hour, standing against the shelves, her arms folded, showing the ribbed shapes of whatever wire contraption she was wearing underneath.
    “Something you want?” she said, raising her metal eyebrows and drumming the orange nails of one hand against her arm. She was wearing the pink sweater today. The mouse pin was there again, with its red eyes. He wondered if she had bought it herself or if someone had given it to her, if it might be a badge of something in her circle of friends, like a fraternity pin or some other token that young people wore to indicate the state of their emotions or opinions or ideals.
    “Looking for a book.”
    “Which one?”
    He stood for a moment longer, then seized one from the shelf and said, “This one will do.” When she stamped it with the date he saw that it was a copy of Xenophon and was quite pleased. He made himself promise not to stop on the steps outside and whip through the pages. Several times before he had done that with a book and in less than two minutes had the feeling that he had read it and wanted another one. Once or twice he had gone straight back into the library to get a different one. They didn’t like that at the desk.
    He put the book in his pocket and went to the park. The tree no longer suggested Mexico of its own accord, it looked like his hands, stiff, old, going numb in the cold weather.He had to will it into looking like a tropical tree. And then for a while he was with the flower beds and spice smells and the sunshine on them as they sat at their table and watched the people walk past through the green square.
    Then he was out again, sitting on his bench with the wind blowing his hair down into his face and the others walking in through the entrance. Elmie brought a bottle and Jumbo read them an account of a disaster at sea, a ship with a burning cargo that might explode at any moment. The Captain had been told to anchor it off the coast and the nearby townspeople had complained, since should the ship blow to pieces they might be in danger. They had already been advised to keep their windows open against a possible shattering of the glass. Keep their windows open in November.
    “Captain’s still on her,” Jumbo said. “Ain’t that a thing?” He stuffed the paper back inside his coat. Spats wanted to know if the Captain was really duty-bound to stay on his ship when it went down. Jumbo said yes, Elmie said he was supposed to stay on till the very last moment, but when the utmost tip started to go under he was allowed to jump off and swim away. But did they hold it against him afterwards? They talked the matter over.
    When the light began to fail, Mr. Mackenzie remembered that he had to buy a stamp, and stood up.
    “Coming along?” Jumbo asked.
    He shook his head and said, “Can’t. When will you be going?”
    “Tonight, tomorrow maybe, next week.”
    They stood up also and all four walked from the park, passing the guitar player and heading towards the post office.
    “I’ve got to buy a stamp,” he said and crossed the road, waving goodbye. They waved back and he thought: that’s probably the last time we’ll see each other.
    The post office was just about to close. He bought the stamp, came out, and remembered that he needed an envelope. He searched through his pockets and found the last month’s bill for electricity. Tearing the old stamp off, he crossed out his own name, readdressed it to Bender’s firm, and put the new stamp on it. Then he folded up the will and put it inside, tucked the flap of the envelope in to keep it there, and dropped it into the mailbox.
    He stood looking at the box, thinking that there was something he had meant to remind himself of. Off in the distance, coming through the crowd of people making their way home from work, a voice called, “Repent.” It came nearer, saying, “Repent, the hour is at hand,” and Mr. Mackenzie saw a man, looking doubtless much like himself, with long hair and a beard and