Early Autumn

Early Autumn by Robert B. Parker Page A

Book: Early Autumn by Robert B. Parker Read Free Book Online
Authors: Robert B. Parker
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“One, you need some structure in your life, some scheduling, to give you a sense of order. Two, I was going to have to do it sometime. I figured I might as well get it over with.”
    “You wouldn’t have to do it if you let me sleep.”
    “It would’ve been something. You’d push me until you found out how far I’d go. You have to test me, so you can trust me.”
    “What are you, a child psychologist?”
    “No. Susan told me that.”
    “Well, she’s crazy.”
    “I know you don’t know any better, but that’s against the rules.”
    “What?”
    “Speaking badly of another person’s beloved, you know? I don’t want you to speak ill of her.” We were in Fryeburg Center.
    “Sorry.”
    “Okay.”
    We were quiet as we drove through the small open town with its pleasant buildings. It was maybe fifteen minutes to North Conway. We bought Paul a pair of Nike LDVs just like mine except size 7, and a pair of sweat pants.
    “You got a jock?” I said.
    Paul looked embarrassed. He shook his head. We bought one of them and two pairs of white sweat socks. I paid and we drove back to Fryeburg. It was ten when we got to the cabin. I handed him his bag of stuff.
    “Go put this stuff on and we’ll have a run,” I said.
    “A run?”
    “Yeah.”
    “I can’t run,” he said.
    “You can learn,” I said.
    “I don’t want to.”
    “I know, but we’ll take it easy. We won’t go far. We’ll run a little, walk a little. Do a little more each day. You’ll feel good.”
    “You going to make me?” Paul said.
    “Yes.”
    He went very slowly into the cabin. I went in with him. He went into his room. I went into mine. In about twenty minutes he came out with the new jogging shoes looking ridiculously yellow and the new sweat pants slightly too big for his thin legs, and his scrawny upper body pale and shivery-looking in the spring sun. I was dressed the same, but my stuff wasn’t new.
    “We’ll stretch,” I said. “Bend your knees until you can touch the ground with both hands easily. Like this. Good. Now without taking your hands from the ground, try to straighten your knees. Don’t strain, just steady pressure. We’ll hold it thirty seconds.”
    “What’s that for?” he said.
    “Loosen up the lower back and the hamstring muscles in the back of your thighs. Now squat, like this, let your butt hang down toward the ground and hold that for thirty seconds. It does somewhat the same thing.”
    I showed him how to stretch the calf muscles and loosen up the quadriceps. He did everything very awkwardly and tentatively as if he wanted to prove he couldn’t. I didn’t comment on that. I was figuring out how to run with a gun. I normally didn’t. But I wasn’t normally looking after anyone but me when I ran.
    “Okay,” I said. “We’re ready for a short slow run. Wait till I get something in the house.” I went in and got my gun. It was a short Smith & Wesson .38. I took it from its holster, checked the load, and went out carrying it in my hand.
    “You going to run with that?” Paul said.
    “Best I could think of,” I said. “I’ll just carry it in my hand.” I held it by the cylinder and trigger guard, not by the handle. It was not conspicuous.
    “You afraid they’ll find us?”
    “No, but no harm to be safe. When you can, it’s better to deal with possibilities than likelihoods.”
    “Huh?”
    “Come on, we’ll jog. I’ll explain while we run.”
    We started at a slow pace. Paul looked as if he might never have run before. His movements seemed unsynchronized, and he took each step as if he had to think about it first.
    “Say when you need to walk,” I said. “There’s no hurry.”
    He nodded.
    I said, “When you’re thinking about something important,like if your father might try to kidnap you again, it’s better to think of what the best thing would be to do if he tried, rather than trying to decide how likely he was to try. You can’t decide if he’ll try, that’s up to him. You

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