Quarantine: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

Square
    and up along Inn Street, Leander had less than a half dreener full, enough to bring home, and his grandfather’s baskets hung empty
    from his rake handle. They stopped at Yardley’s Tavern on Pleasant Street, where Coverly bought himself a mug of flip and a glass of cider for Leander.
    When they stepped out into the street again, Leander said,
    “Mother wants you to come for supper tonight.”
    “Maybe.” He never said no outright. After his wife died last
    winter, Papi ate frequently with his daughter’s family, but now he seemed not to want to come by in the evening, except on Sundays, when they usually killed and roasted a chicken. “If not, I’ll see you at low tide tomorrow.”
    Papi strolled back down Inn Street, empty dreeners swinging
    in from his shouldered rake. Leander went along Pleasant Street to the corner of State Street, where he stopped short: Enoch Sumner’s coach came rattling up the hill from Market Square. It was drawn by four horses, which were trotting at a swift pace, encouraged
    by the driver’s whip. Two footmen stood on the back of the car-
    riage, dressed in fine livery, blue silk jackets and plumed tricorn hats. The shades in the carriage were drawn and the wheels threw mud, causing people to step back.
    After the coach passed, there was a moment of hesitation—no
    one moved, nor did they look at each other. Leander had seen
    this before in Newburyporters: they were being polite, but also
    tolerant. High Street sea captains and shipbuilders, in their fine new mansions, their coaches and four, were a separate breed—and
    they’d be the first to tell you so. But here, at the corner of Pleasant 31
    j o h n s m o l e n s
    and State, people had business to attend to and they stepped out into the street again, careful of fresh road apples.
    Leander walked into the South End, thoughts of Enoch Sum-
    ner’s grand coach giving away to a more immediate concern:
    digging clams always worked up an appetite, and he wondered
    what he might find to fill his belly when he got home.
    R
    Fields, the butler, was showing Giles to the front door when Enoch’s carriage pulled up in front of the house. The footmen climbed
    down; one opened the carriage door, while the other pushed back
    the gate at the end of the brick walk. Enoch stepped down from
    the carriage, wearing a purple frock coat, a gold satin vest, and his enormous cockaded hat with a gold tassel dangling from each end.
    He was not a tall man, really quite paunchy now that he was nearing fifty, but this hat afforded him a stature that was as impressive as it was ridiculous. He was accompanied by his small, panting dog, Bowsprit, and followed by Jonathan Bream, the man who acted as
    his personal bard and sycophant. As always, Enoch walked with a
    cane, which gave his unsteady gait a threatening cadence. He came up to the front door and paused to run the soles of his boots across the iron boot-scrape that jutted out from the granite step.
    “Excellent, Doctor,” he bellowed, as he entered the front hall.
    “Come to see after the health of the beloved mother? I would
    have summoned you anyway. Please, tarry a moment before you
    venture forth to conquer disease and pestilence.” He moved down
    the hall, handing his enormous hat to Fields.
    “Doctor,” Jonathan Bream whispered, as he followed Giles.
    “Your brother’s in a vile mood today. One shan’t plan very long
    to stay.”
    Fields opened the door on the right side of the hall, and they
    entered a fine library with Oriental carpets. Enoch went to the tall window and poured himself a brandy from a cut-glass decanter.
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    q u a r a n t i n e
    He glanced at Giles, who hesitated but said, “It’s a bit early,
    but a small one, yes.”
    The dog ran around the room, barking incessantly while
    Enoch poured their drinks. He appeared to be oblivious to the
    noise as he sat on the window seat and for a moment drew
    back the green velvet curtains, allowing sunlight to illuminate
    the