Read Online Noah's Compass by Anne Tyler - Free Book Online Page B

Louise stepped smartly inside, one arm around Jonah’s shoulders. She told the operator, “No way am I going to apologize for my beliefs.”
    The operator blinked. The other two passengers—an older couple—looked equally surprised.
    “Let your light so shine before men,” Louise said, “that they may see your good works and glorify your Father which is in heaven.”
    “Amen,” the operator said.
    “Matthew five, sixteen.”
    Liam faced front and stared fixedly at the brass dial above the door as they rode down.
    As soon as they were out of the elevator, Louise said, “I don’t expect much of you, Dad.
    I’ve learned not to. But I do request that you refrain from denigrating my religion.”
    “I’m not denigrating your—”
    “You’re dismissive and sarcastic and contemptuous,” Louise said. (Anger seemed to broaden her vocabulary—a trait that Liam had noticed in her mother as well.) “You seize every opportunity to point out how wrongheaded true Christians are. When I am trying to raise a child, here! How can I expect him to lead any kind of moral life with you as an example?”
    “Oh, for God’s sake; I mean, for heaven’s sake,” Liam said, trotting after her through the revolving door. Out on the sidewalk, the sudden sunlight jarred his head. “I lead a perfectly moral life!”
    Louise sniffed and drew Jonah closer, as if she felt he needed protecting.
    She didn’t speak again until they reached the car. Even then, she was all motherly fuss and bustle. “Climb into your seat, Jonah; don’t dawdle. Here, let me straighten that strap.”
    Liam settled himself in front with a sigh. He was forcing himself to say no more, although it always annoyed him when people implied you had to have a religion in order to hold to any standards of behavior.
    And then out of nowhere, as Louise was flinging herself into her seat with an indignant little bounce, it came to him who that old man in the waiting room was. Why, of course: Mr.
    Cope. Ishmael Cope, of Cope Development—the billionaire whose office buildings and luxury condominiums and oversized shopping malls despoiled the entire area. His picture popped up in the paper almost weekly, his heron-like figure bending forward to shake hands with some accomplice over his latest environmentally ruinous project.
    Billionaires could buy anything, evidently, including better memories. Liam saw Mr. Cope’s assistant once again in his mind—her owlish glasses and earnest, slightly sweaty face. What a notion: paying someone else to experience your life for you! Because that was what she’d been hired for, really.
    A new ache shot through his left temple as Louise gunned the engine, and he closed his eyes and rested his head against the side window.
    Noah’s Compass: A Novel

4
    Over the next few days, Liam often found his thoughts returning to the hired rememberer. It wasn’t that he wanted to hire her for himself, exactly. What good would that have done? He had already lived through the one event he needed reminding of. No, it was just the concept that intrigued him. He wondered how it worked. He wondered if it worked.
    On Wednesday evening he asked Kitty if he could use her computer. She was using it herself at the time, sitting on the edge of his bed with the computer resting on her knees, and she shielded the screen in a paranoid way when he walked into the room. “I’m not looking!”
    he told her. “I just wanted to know if I might do a little research once you’re finished.”
    “Research … on my computer?”
    “Right.”
    “Well, sure, I guess so,” she said. But she looked dubious. His aversion to computers was common knowledge. There’d been numerous complaints from St. Dyfrig parents when they couldn’t reach him by e-mail.
    He retreated to the kitchen, where he was warming a pizza for his supper. (Kitty would be going out with Damian, she’d said.) A few minutes later, he heard her call, “It’s all yours.”
    When he walked into the