Falling for June: A Novel by Ryan Winfield

Author:Ryan Winfield [Winfield, Ryan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atria Books
Published: 2015-06-30T05:00:00+00:00

20

HE STOPPED THE story there and reached for his cane. Then he rose from the chair and walked to the window and looked out. When he spoke again, it was almost as if he had forgotten that I was there and was talking instead to himself.

“The sun was setting when we launched the glider, but it wasn’t that cool yet. It was still July for God’s sake. Yet she was shaking like a leaf in my arms when we landed.” He shook his head. “And all I cared about was me, me, me, and how good I felt at the time. I didn’t think anything of it. I didn’t even offer her my jacket, not that it would have helped. I had no way of knowing, did I? It never occurred to me before, but she must have known already. She must have known.”

“Known what?” I asked. “What was wrong?”

At the sound of my voice he seemed to come to with a jolt, turning from the window. He looked momentarily confused, glancing around the room, and then to me, as if he had to think about where he was.

“I was hoping to finish the story before we lost our daylight,” he finally said, “but it appears my timing was a little off. I think it’s time we take a walk, if you’re up for it.”

“But it’s still raining,” I said.

“You don’t look like you’ll melt, young man. I’m pretty sure I’ve got some galoshes that will fit your feet, and we can bring along the bumbershoot.”

“Bumbershoot?”

“Umbrella,” he said. “I’ve got a big one.”

It turned out he was wrong about the galoshes. They wouldn’t stretch over my shoes. Instead he found me an old pair of rubber muck boots, far from a perfect fit but large enough to do the trick. But while he had been wrong about the galoshes, calling the umbrella big was absolutely accurate. I wasn’t sure whether it was a golf umbrella or some kind of gag gift, but it looked like it was meant to be stuck in a picnic table and was large enough and sturdy enough to protect a small family from a hurricane. The damn thing was heavy too.

“Do you usually carry this umbrella yourself?” I asked as we left the porch and walked around behind the house.

“Lord no,” he said. “This is actually the first time I’ve used it. I won it from the golf store in a radio raffle. You should have seen the box they sent it in.”

“Well, now I see why you call it a bumbershoot; I’ll bet you could use it for a parachute in a pinch.”

He led me across the creek, over the old footbridge, and up the path into the wood. The rain thundered loudly on the big umbrella and our boots plashed in puddles on the path. As we walked deeper into the forest, the trees blocked the worst of the rain and the pounding on the umbrella quieted to a patter, allowing us to talk.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.