The Awakening Read Online Free PDF

slightly
red. “I’m sorry. Boy, I must have been talking your ear off.”
    “No, I enjoy listening to you. It’s just that it’s
been a long time since…” Derek shook his head, smiling.
    “Since?”
    “Nothing. As I said this morning, I’m one pretty
boring fellow. And you’re too nice to bore. How long have you lived in Cider
Springs?”
    “You’re a subject changer, you know that?” Ann waited
a moment, but Derek wasn’t going to bite. “Oh, well. I tell you now, I don’t
give up easily. I’ll get it out of you sooner or later. But to answer your
question, I’ve lived in this place all of my life. That makes me the expert on
boring. I hate it here.”
    “Why do you stay if you hate it so much? It’s a big
world with a lot of room.”
    “I know, and I think that’s what keeps me here. It’s
too big and lonely out there.”
    And I’m too scared of staying in one place. Derek watched the trees moving past. The road they were on formed a loop from
the base of the mountains and back, and they were almost back where they had
started. He felt vaguely sad, as if they were near the end of something other
than a simple drive.
     
    *          *          *
     
    Parker was standing in the door of his store when Ann
dropped Derek off. The old man was busily staining an old T-shirt with beer; he
waved at Derek and some of it slopped onto the wooden porch. The dry wood
soaked it up greedily.
    “Hi, son.” Parker stretched and set on the steps,
scratching one hairy forearm. “Go grab a beer and join me.” Derek did as he was
told, then went back out to sit with Parker on the steps. The beer was icy cold
and good. “Looks like you’re gonna be around for a while,” Parker said. “I was
talking to Ernie a bit ago. Car’s busted up pretty bad, huh?”
    “Not too bad, but Ernie has to order parts.”
    “Shit. Time was when a man could fix his own
automobile with some spit and bailing wire. They’ve got everything so
specialized now that a man has to have a degree or something to put air in his
tires. Know why?”
    “Why?”
    “It’s the communists. They’ve bought out all the big corporations so
they can complicate everything. Pretty soon us Americans won’t be able to do
anything for ourselves and then they’ll just walk in and take over.”
    Derek grinned. “You might be right at that.”
    “Damn right I’m right. It’s a communist plot.” Parker
nodded sagely. “Still feel like fishing, don’t you?”
    “You just try and stop me.”
    It took only a few minutes to load the equipment.
Derek smiled as he watched an almost childlike enthusiasm grow in the old man.
It was contagious; the prospect of a little fishing sounded better the more he
thought about it. By the time they were on their way, he was beginning to feel
more relaxed and easy than he had in months.
    Parker drove his old tan station wagon through the
middle of the town, an undertaking of three minutes if the vehicle was kept to
an even crawl. Once out of town, the road angled slightly, heading directly
north. Parker followed it for a half mile before turning off onto a narrow dirt
road. The road wound westwardly to the base of the mountains.
    “If you follow the main road back there for another
mile, you get to the bridge,” Parker said. “A lot of folks do their fishing
there, but it ain’t much good. Water’s too fast. Now, the place I’m taking you
is the best around. It’s God’s gift to fish and fishermen both.”
    “Sounds good.”
    The station wagon lurched over the rough road for
another half a mile until they reached the river and Parker parked in a small
natural clearing at the water’s edge.
    Derek didn’t know about the fishing, but the spot was
beautiful enough to make the trip worthwhile. Mountains crowded the banks of
the river not far above them, and the trees and grass gave the area an
unspoiled natural elegance, proving the superiority of nature’s ability to
landscape. In the river,