By the Creek Read Online Free PDF Page B

it. “I have something to eat if you’re hungry,” David offered and opened the cooler. Benjamin hesitated, but David handed him a granola bar and a can of soda. He’d been hoping to see him, so he’d packed extra. “I don’t have more, but I hope this is okay,” David added and then watched Benjamin stare at the granola bar. “It’s good and really crunchy—try it.”
    Benjamin opened the package, took a bite of the apple-cinnamon granola bar, and smiled before taking a second bite. He seemed to like it even if he couldn’t figure out quite what it was. Then he opened the can of Coke and took a sip, smiling brightly at David. “When we went into town I saw this in the store but didn’t dare ask Papa if I could have one. I knew he’d never let me try it.” Benjamin took another drink and then burped loudly. He looked scandalized until David laughed.
    “It always makes you burp,” David said, and he proceeded to take a huge gulp and then demonstrated his best burping skills. The sound echoed off the water, and Benjamin looked shocked for a second before he began laughing hard. He tried to emulate the sound, but failed. David laughed anyway, and soon they were drinking soda and trying to out-burp one another.
    After a while, the temperature, even in the shade, climbed higher and higher. They swam again for a while before climbing out and lying on David’s blanket to dry off. “What’s it like to live without a phone or electricity?” David asked, rolling onto his side to face Benjamin. “At night I see flickering lights coming from where you live.”
    Benjamin nodded. “We heat and cook with woodstoves and use oil lamps for light after dark.”
    “Do you miss things like phones and cars?” David asked.
    Benjamin shook his head. “It probably sounds funny to you, but I don’t know what it’s like to live with telephones and a motorcar. I’ve never had one, so I guess I don’t miss what I’ve never had. That’s part of what the minister talked about at church a few weeks ago. We lead our lives free from modern contrivances and closer to God. Without them, we’re free to grow closer to him.”
    David didn’t know quite what to say. “You sound like a preacher,” he said. “What do you think?”
    “You always ask that,” Benjamin said without answering the question, looking confused. “It doesn’t matter what I think,” he added looking away.
    “It does to me. You’re allowed to think and have your own opinion. I won’t repeat it to anyone or tell on you. We’re here alone, and I’ll let you in on a secret—I’ve wondered what it would be like to live the way you do.” David sat up. “When I look at where you live, I wonder if you’re all happy.”
    Benjamin looked at David very strangely, like he’d asked the weirdest question ever. “I don’t know.” Benjamin remained quiet, just looking at David. “Are you happy?”
    David shrugged. He wished he knew his own answer. After all, he’d asked the question first, feeling cocky, like the way he lived and what he knew was right. And yet he didn’t have an answer for Benjamin either. “Me either. I mean, my mom is good and I know she cares for me. But I had a lot of friends at my old school and now we’ve moved here and I don’t know anyone, except you. You’re my only friend here. So I guess I am happy part of the time and not some of the time.”
    “I know everyone in the community and I have lots of friends,” Benjamin said before looking away again. “They’re people I’ve known since I was born. I played with them growing up and we did chores together. I attended lessons with those who were in the same level as me, and next year Papa says I’ll be apprenticed to learn a trade. But sometimes….” Benjamin looked out over the now calm pool of water, the dirt and silt they’d kicked up having settled, making the water clear again. “Sometimes I wonder if any of them really know me, know what’s in my heart.