Eden's Jester Read Online Free PDF Page B

And through humans I came to understand the world. Their short lifespan creates an intensity of insight that glows brightly, illuminating the darkest corners of the earth. And their lack of a celestial context makes them natural skeptics. Having a human as a partner has proven invaluable over the years. You just had to find the right one.
    The nursing home was plush. I had seen to that. At night, the lights of the Windsor casinos turned the Detroit River into a rippling rainbow. My friend liked to sit on the front lawn of the home and look out across the river toward Canada. That side of the river was green and spacious. This side was grey and hard. I had offered to set him up over there, but he would have none of it. He always said he’d get there, sooner or later--whatever that meant.
    I found him on the lawn, watching the freighters creep by. His ancient frame, late in its nineties, was still sturdy and straight despite the heavy duty he had put it through. His hands were strong, his head silver, and steel was still in his gaze.  
    I had been there when he was born—his father and grandfather had been my partners before him—and I had a deal with Death that I’d be there when he died. I had seen many come and go. This one I’d miss.  
    As I approached his chair from behind, he reached for a pack of unfiltered cigarettes and lit one up.  
    “Hello, Elson,” he said without turning his head.
    “Still on your toes, I see. Why don’t you relax. Those days are over—for you,” I said.
    “I can feel you. Always could. Don’t need to be on any toes.” He turned and smiled. “Sit down. You look like my dead dog.”
    “Look who’s talking. And you never owned a dog.” I said.  
    He blew smoke into my face and grinned a content, peaceful smile. I sat down and looked up and down the river. There was a new boardwalk in front of the Renaissance Center. People sat eating their lunch, dangling their feet over the side of the riverbank.  
    “When did they put that in?” I asked.
    “About three years ago.”
    “Has it been that long?”
    “More like five.”
    “I’m sorry. Time flies for me,” I said.
    He turned to face the river. The water was silent as it passed.
    After a while he said, “I read the papers and wonder what part you’ve been playing. It’s not hard to spot your work. Though I have to say things have been quiet lately. Sort of like the calm before the storm.”
    “Do you miss the good old days?” I asked.
    “Are you kidding? These are the good old days, my friend. No responsibility and no one is shooting at me or twisting my thumbs.”
    “You don’t miss the action?”
    He put down his cigarette and took a drink of something that I suspected was a powerful disinfectant.  
    “I think about the future more than the past. Always have.” He finished his drink, then called for another. The place was more like a resort than a nursing home. “Did you find an answer to my question?”
    We had worked together for decades. In all that time, he had asked very little of me. He understood what I was trying to do, what I was fighting. At the end, he only had one question. For some reason he thought I could find his answer.
    “No,” I said. One thing I wasn’t short of was unanswered questions.
    He watched the ringlets of smoke spiral up from the arm of the lawn chair where his hand rested easily. Time was never in short supply for me. His was running out. I’d get his answer. Maybe Death had the answer. If he didn’t, who would? My friend sniffed and dismissed whatever thoughts had intruded on his peaceful afternoon.
    “So, what brings you by? Just visiting?” he asked.
    “Someone I met reminded me of you. I wanted to come by.”
    “And something’s bothering you,” he said.
    “Yeah.” He could always tell what I was thinking. I often wondered if he had some Engineering skills.  
    “Aeson is up to something. This time in your neck of the woods. The little voice inside my head is