So, Sandy and I have different goals now, just as we did when she was alive.

If you decide to take a shot with me, I will try hard to make this part of your life enriching. Can't say we won't argue or that I won't be wrong, but I can promise I'll try to always be honest with you.

Chooch, it's a much shorter journey we're on than it appears to be at its beginning. You can accept this ride or flag down another. It's all choices. It always will be.

Love, Your father,

Shane

He heard the door open behind him and sat quietly on the metal chair. After a moment he heard footsteps coming across the grass. Then Chooch sat in the metal chair beside him. He was holding the letter and looking out at the still water. The three-quarter moon was coming off the horizon, hiding behind a drifting cloud, lighting its lacy edges. They sat in silence and watched it float slowly by.

Shane was almost afraid to speak; his heart was beating fast in his chest. 'So, whatta you think?' he said softly.

Chooch sat looking at the still canal, his face strangely set, breathing deeply. Then he dropped the letter on the grass, reached out and took hold of Shane's shoulder, and squeezed it.

'I want to stay here,' he finally said. 'This is where I belong.'

Вы читаете The Tin Collector
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