Read Online Northern Borders by Howard Frank Mosher - Free Book Online Page B

father don’t see eye to eye has nothing at all to do with the fact that your father is a schoolteacher. It’s that secretly, way down deep, he and your grandfather are too much alike.”
    â€œIn other words, proud,” Freddi said.
    â€œYes,” Klee agreed. “They are both very, very proud.”
    â€œAnd very, very stubborn,” Klee said.
    â€œOh, yes,” Freddi said happily. “Which accounts for the feud.”
    â€œYou see,” Klee said, “your father is fifteen years older than I am, and I’m the next oldest. So for years and years he had to bear the brunt of your grandparents’ quarreling all by himself.”
    â€œThat’s why he can’t stand an argument of any kind to this day,” Freddi said. “He heard so much arguing growing up.”
    â€œHe tended to side with Gram,” Klee said. “Not that we blame him. Your grandfather can be a regular Tartar when he wants to be.”
    â€œGrief, Klee, not a Tartar. The old boy isn’t that bad. Don’t make him out to be Attila the Hun. Imagine what it must be like to be lawfully married to a woman with an official paper forbidding you to touch her.”
    â€œThere wasn’t any such paper until years later, Fred. Not until after Uncle Rob nearly killed Mom being born.”
    â€œAt any rate, Austen, your father never said much to your grandfather, but when it came time for him to go to the university—” Here Freddi’s voice began to quaver.
    â€œDo you want to have a good long cry, Fred?” Klee said savagely. “Go ahead. I’ll wait while you have your bawl.”
    â€œI’m not going to cry, Klee. It’s just all so sad. You know it is. What happened, Old Mole, is that—”
    â€œâ€”off he went and didn’t come back for four years!” Klee ended triumphantly.
    â€œKittredge pride,” Freddi said.
    â€œAnd Kittredge stubbornness,” Klee said in a fatalistic, delighted voice.
    â€œHey, you up there, Buddy?” It was Uncle Rob, calling from the foot of the attic stairs. “You’re wanted down here, kid. Your dad’s getting ready to go back down the line.”
    â€œAh,” Klee said. “The moment of truth has arrived. Flee while you can, Old Toad. Flee before you become consumed by Kittredge pride and stubbornness, like the rest of us.”
    â€œThat’s silly, Klee. How can you tell him such drivel? He’s just a boy visiting his grandparents.”
    â€œFly away, fly away!” Klee cried melodramatically, though I had the distinct impression that she did not want me to leave the Farm, any more than I wanted to.
    Just how I would tell this to my father, however, was more than I knew. I wasn’t at all sure I could tell him, and I dreaded the awful moment when I would have to announce my decision more than I had ever dreaded anything in my life.
    Â 
    They were waiting for me in the kitchen. Dad, Rob, and my grandmother. “Well, Bud,” Dad said, “what do you say? How do you like it here?”
    â€œI love it,” I said, “but I miss you.”
    He grinned. “That’s natural. I miss you, too.”
    Everyone was looking at me: my father, Rob, my little aunts, who’d followed me down from the cupola to be on hand for my big decision. Most of all, though, I was aware of my grandmother’s presence. She was standing at the table putting the best silver back in its chest, and she was watching me intently with those sharp, dark, kind, and eternally expectant eyes. Yet if it was my grandmother I was most aware of, it was my father who best understood my predicament and how to make this momentous decision easy for me.
    â€œAusten, would you like to stay on with your grandparents for a while longer this summer?”
    You bet I would! Staying on for
a while.
That was the operative phrase. Now when my grandfather returned from Labrador he would find me