The Firebug of Balrog County Read Online Free PDF

structure than that. Especially with your mother gone.”
    â€œI don’t know,” I said, stretching my arms. “I think I’ve got a good thing going around here.”
    â€œYou’re eighteen now, Mack. You should be working your ass off and saving for college.”
    I swung a leg over the picnic table’s bench. “You never even went to college and you’ve done all right for yourself, Mr. Mayor. Mr. Backyard Grotto.”
    Grandpa Hedley leaned closer to his bonsai. “I didn’t go to college because I was getting my ass strafed in the Me k ong Delta. You don’t want that kind of education, kid. Trust me.”

    Now a full-time man with two part-time jobs, I plunged into the depths of the Grotto and found Grandma Hedley rocking gently in the Grotto hammock. She was wearing her straw garden hat and olive green overalls and drinking iced tea. As foretold, she was reading a thick, greasy romance novel with raised gold lettering on the cover.
    â€œHello, sweetie.”
    â€œHi, Grandma.”
    I leaned over and hugged her small body with one arm, careful to not squeeze too hard. Grandma Hedley smiled. Her eyes were milky blue, like stonewashed denim, and magnified crazy huge behind her trifocals. She had short cropped hair she dyed crimson and a ready smile for anybody. She looked like a kindly lady gnome.
    â€œDid you have a good birthd ay? We have a card for you.”
    â€œIt was pretty good, I guess.”
    â€œHow’s your story - writing going?”
    â€œAll right. I started a new one yesterday.”
    â€œThat’s lovely. I can’t wait to read it. Did George tell you about the new job?”
    â€œYes, ma’am.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œI start at the Legion next Friday.”
    Grandma Hedley lowered the romance novel to her chest and gave a speedy, hummingbird-like clap. “Oh good. I think it’ll be very enjoyable for you, Mack. You’ll get to hear all those stories they have. It could even help you with your writing. Maybe you’ll write the next Johnny Tremain .”
    â€œAh—”
    â€œHere, help me up.”
    My grandmother held out her hand like she was getting out of a cab. I grinned and took it, extracting her from the fibrous web.
    â€œYou missed lunch, but I can make you a sandwich. We’ve got some rhubarb pie left over.”
    We went inside the house. Grandpa Hedley was on the phone in the kitchen. He was listening to the receiver with his good ear, his face darkening to a deep, plum-like purple. Grandma and I waited, watching him. Finally Grandpa muttered something and hung up the phone, his eyes slowly focusing as he noticed us standing there.
    â€œWhat is it, George?”
    â€œSome hoodlums burned down Teddy Giles’ boathouse.”
    Grandma Hedley crossed her arms and frowned. “Oh dear. ”

The Mayor’s Corner
    Dear Residents of Hickson,
    As you have probably heard already, the boathouse of Theodore “Teddy” Giles has been destroyed in what police believe to be an act of criminal arson.
    This, of course, is a tremendous black eye for our sleepy community. Those of you who know Teddy (and who doesn’t?) know about his exemplary life of service to both Hickson and the United States of America. An all-state quarterback for Hickson High back in the late eighties, Teddy led our beloved Wildcats to not one, not two, but three consecutive state championships.
    Then, despite being offered several college football scholarships, Teddy joined the Marines and fought in the Gulf War, where he distinguished himself by taking shrapnel in his leg and still completing his mission, which was to relay a visual ground confirmation on an Iraqi troop unit in Kuwait, allowing it to be blown to smithereens by an American bomber.
    His leg badly mangled, Teddy returned to our area with a Purple Heart, unable to play football or walk without a limp but still a shining example of everything