Read Online Book of Days: A Novel by James L. Rubart - Free Book Online
Authors: James L. Rubart
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meaning?"
"No." Cameron held his breath and looked away, as if turning could deflect the question. How could he tell her he had to find the book because he was scared he was losing his mind and he was hoping his dad was right and the book would cure him?
How could he describe losing his memories of Jessie and tell how he would try anything to get them back? How he was terrified of ending up like his dad, talking about nothing and everything mixed up into a mess the best linguists in the world couldn't decipher? How he'd promised his father he'd search for a book that probably only existed in his dad's mind and Jessie's imagination?
Susan looked at him with compassion. "I had a son about your age. Are you thirty-four? Thirty-five?"
"Thirty-three." Cameron shifted in his seat. "Had?"
Susan nodded as she brushed back her hair. "I'd like to offer you a stone."
Interesting. Susan understood loss but didn't want to talk about it. Part of him didn't want to talk about Dad and Jessie, but she had a choice. He didn't. "Offer a what?"
She reached over and opened an old dark mahogany cabinet sitting next to the front door and brought out a bowl made of stained glass. It was full of rocks, all polished to a brilliant shine.
"This one is pretty." Susan picked a piece of jade. "I found it myself. I let it scuttle around in the polisher with all that fine sand working on it, rubbing off the rough spots, for three straight weeks." She handed him the bowl and he set it on his knees.
"You know more about the book, don't you? Will you tell me what it is?"
"Pick a stone, Cameron. To keep." Susan grabbed the edge of the dish and rattled the stones inside it.
He settled on a flat stone the color of crème brûlée streaked with black lines. Peppered along the lines were tiny red specks, connecting them, making it look like constellations of another world.
It made him think of Jessie's stone. His hand pressed against his chest and felt it under his shirt. For a moment he thought about telling Susan about the stone. Not yet. It wasn't time.
"That stone is a good choice." A pleased, almost joyful look passed over Susan's face. "A very, very good choice. Do you know where I found it?" She spoke as if talking directly to the stone. "Right here. In Three Peaks. I've never seen another like it."
She nodded twice and stood. Cameron took his cue and walked toward her porch steps. "So will you tell more about the book?"
Susan smiled and patted his arm. "You're a good man, Cameron. Keep hope, always hold on to hope."
Cameron jammed his notepad into his back pocket, clomped down Susan's stairs and toward his car. He did have hope mixed in with a full helping of discouragement. Cryptic answers was all he was getting. He didn't have time for Three Peaks' version of Where's Waldo. He needed answers before his mind went on permanent hiatus.
Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention.
A man clipped along the sidewalk directly across from Susan's house.
Who? . . . Gillum, it was Kirk Gillum.
"Hey, Kirk." Cameron gave a quick flick of his hand in greeting. "As you've probably guessed, I just met with Susan. Thanks again for the introduction."
Gillum nodded in return and kept walking.
A little more of that mayoral warmth to brighten Cameron's day.
It didn't matter. Tomorrow he'd employ an old-fashioned method of discovering what he needed to know. And he would find answers.
CHAPTER 8
On Wednesday morning Cameron headed for the Three Peaks Public Library determined to find answers. Looking in books and old newspaper articles might tell him something the Internet and the people of Three Peaks hadn't relinquished.
Five and a half hours later, after pouring over every history book housed on the sagging shelves and every article available, all he'd achieved was exhaustion. And a neck that felt like guitar strings tuned three octaves too high.
Cameron slammed a book on the history of early Oregon shut and squeezed his temples. Why
"No." Cameron held his breath and looked away, as if turning could deflect the question. How could he tell her he had to find the book because he was scared he was losing his mind and he was hoping his dad was right and the book would cure him?
How could he describe losing his memories of Jessie and tell how he would try anything to get them back? How he was terrified of ending up like his dad, talking about nothing and everything mixed up into a mess the best linguists in the world couldn't decipher? How he'd promised his father he'd search for a book that probably only existed in his dad's mind and Jessie's imagination?
Susan looked at him with compassion. "I had a son about your age. Are you thirty-four? Thirty-five?"
"Thirty-three." Cameron shifted in his seat. "Had?"
Susan nodded as she brushed back her hair. "I'd like to offer you a stone."
Interesting. Susan understood loss but didn't want to talk about it. Part of him didn't want to talk about Dad and Jessie, but she had a choice. He didn't. "Offer a what?"
She reached over and opened an old dark mahogany cabinet sitting next to the front door and brought out a bowl made of stained glass. It was full of rocks, all polished to a brilliant shine.
"This one is pretty." Susan picked a piece of jade. "I found it myself. I let it scuttle around in the polisher with all that fine sand working on it, rubbing off the rough spots, for three straight weeks." She handed him the bowl and he set it on his knees.
"You know more about the book, don't you? Will you tell me what it is?"
"Pick a stone, Cameron. To keep." Susan grabbed the edge of the dish and rattled the stones inside it.
He settled on a flat stone the color of crème brûlée streaked with black lines. Peppered along the lines were tiny red specks, connecting them, making it look like constellations of another world.
It made him think of Jessie's stone. His hand pressed against his chest and felt it under his shirt. For a moment he thought about telling Susan about the stone. Not yet. It wasn't time.
"That stone is a good choice." A pleased, almost joyful look passed over Susan's face. "A very, very good choice. Do you know where I found it?" She spoke as if talking directly to the stone. "Right here. In Three Peaks. I've never seen another like it."
She nodded twice and stood. Cameron took his cue and walked toward her porch steps. "So will you tell more about the book?"
Susan smiled and patted his arm. "You're a good man, Cameron. Keep hope, always hold on to hope."
Cameron jammed his notepad into his back pocket, clomped down Susan's stairs and toward his car. He did have hope mixed in with a full helping of discouragement. Cryptic answers was all he was getting. He didn't have time for Three Peaks' version of Where's Waldo. He needed answers before his mind went on permanent hiatus.
Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention.
A man clipped along the sidewalk directly across from Susan's house.
Who? . . . Gillum, it was Kirk Gillum.
"Hey, Kirk." Cameron gave a quick flick of his hand in greeting. "As you've probably guessed, I just met with Susan. Thanks again for the introduction."
Gillum nodded in return and kept walking.
A little more of that mayoral warmth to brighten Cameron's day.
It didn't matter. Tomorrow he'd employ an old-fashioned method of discovering what he needed to know. And he would find answers.
CHAPTER 8
On Wednesday morning Cameron headed for the Three Peaks Public Library determined to find answers. Looking in books and old newspaper articles might tell him something the Internet and the people of Three Peaks hadn't relinquished.
Five and a half hours later, after pouring over every history book housed on the sagging shelves and every article available, all he'd achieved was exhaustion. And a neck that felt like guitar strings tuned three octaves too high.
Cameron slammed a book on the history of early Oregon shut and squeezed his temples. Why
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