The Everlasting Read Online Free PDF Page B

forest seems to know it as well. Birds have gone quiet, and even the secretive rustle of wood ants has ceased.
    â€œPapa?” Scott asks expectantly.
    â€œScott,” the old man says. “We found something. Lewis and I, we found something out there in the desert. A munitions dump went up, and a day later we were sent to make sure nothing was left lying around. There were craters. . . .” He drifts off again, looking between the trees.
    â€œPapa? What did you find there?”
    â€œI can’t say,” he says. “It’s not possible, and I can’t say. One day, perhaps. If you see me dead, maybe then I’ll tell you.”
    â€œI don’t understand. You’re scaring me.”
    â€œThere’s more,” Papa says. His voice has dropped and taken total control of the scene. Everything is listening to him; even the trees seem to lean in to hearbetter. For the first time ever Papa is frightening Scott, unnerving him with the look of mad passion in his eyes and the stern set of his face.
    â€œMore what?”
    â€œMore than what we see, more than what we know. More than life. All around us all the time, Scotty, there’s so much more. I can see.” He closes his eyes, takes in a deep breath, and opens them again. He looks around; then his eyes fix on something behind Scott. “I can see,” he carries on, voice lower and heavier than ever. “It’s easy after the first time. Close your eyes, think of the song from the Chord of Souls, open them again, and you see everything else. The dead, where they gather. The storms of time eddying around our heads, so close and yet never known.” His eyes have not moved, and Scott turns around to see what his grandfather is watching.
    â€œWhat is it?” he says. For him there are only trees, shrubs, leaves, and shadows.
    â€œThe spell, Scott.” And he mumbles a brief series of words, guttural sounds that do not sound right coming from a human mouth. There’s a strange musical quality to them, but it’s distasteful and eerie.
    â€œBut
what
do you see?”
    â€œA young girl who died in these woods a long time ago,” Papa says.
    Scott’s blood runs cold, and the hairs on his back rise. “What?”
    Papa nods. “Between the trees. There. I see her, because there’s so much more, Scotty.”
    Scott stands and backs away from where the oldman is looking. “Papa,” he says, and it must be the sound of desperation in his voice that brings Papa around.
    The old man stands, shakes his head, and closes his eyes briefly once more. Then he walks toward Scott.
    Scott backs away.
    Papa pauses, frowns, then reaches out for his grandson. “I would never, ever hurt you,” he says, and he hugs the boy close.
    â€œYou scared me.”
    â€œIt’s right to be scared.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œThe world is a scary place.”
    Scott sobs, only once, but enough to elicit a tighter hug from his grandfather.
    â€œYou need to know,” the old man says. “I won’t be here forever, and you really need to know.”
    â€œWhat if I don’t
want
to know?”
    Papa laughs briefly, then says no more. Scott cannot see the old man’s face. For once he is glad.
    Scott started awake, and he thought the sound he heard was his own startled shout. He sat up on the settee and rubbed his eyes. On the TV screen someone was screaming, and at the window the rosebush still caressed the glass.
    What was he going to tell me?
he thought. He could not remember. The fresh memory of the forest and what his grandfather had said was strong, but there was nothing beyond that hug.
Maybe we just went home. Maybe he didn’t tell me anything at all
.
    He stood and went upstairs to the toilet, looking through the open window as he urinated. The slice of garden he saw seemed quiet and peaceful, but he wondered whether the rest of the garden was quite so innocent. Perhaps it