Read Resonance for Free Online Page B

understood it?’
    Joe came to an abrupt halt, causing Harry to bump into him. ‘Did you understand it?’ he asked coldly.
    â€˜Say, I didn’t mean any insult. It’s just … you know… all those terms: hyperbolas, parabolas, ellipses. Did you understand them?’
    Joe had to smile at that. ‘No,’ he admitted. ‘I hadn’t a clue.’
    Harry laughed, a relieved sound in the echoing dark, and Joe began descending the steps again. ‘I marked the pages, though,’ he said. ‘I’ll ask Saul in the morning, and he’ll explain.’
    â€˜If Saul doesn’t know,’ said Harry, clattering along behind him, ‘I’ll write and ask my pa. He knows a lot . Then, even if I’m far away, I’ll send you the letters so you’ll know the answers, too.’
    Joe almost stopped again at that – at the unexpected pleasure of it. ‘I’d like that,’ he said.
    They let themselves out into the street, and the cold clamped itself around them like a fist. Joe shrugged deeper into his jacket as they trotted down the steps.
    â€˜Honestly though, Joe,’ said Harry, ‘you’re like a different person when you read. You did a terrific job of the accents.’
    â€˜I was copying you with the accents. So that’s what America is like, huh? Everyone shooting off guns and waving their wooden legs about?’
    â€˜More or less – though I’ve never met anyone with a silver nose, more’s the pity.’
    It was Joe’s turn to chuckle. He was astonished to realise that he was enjoying himself – that he’d been enjoying himself all evening. He had never before had such a discussion with a man his own age: a discussion free of slyness and barbs. It was a good feeling.
    â€˜It’s darned cold,’ complained Harry. ‘Tina should have given you that muffler she’s knitting.’
    Joe touched his throat where Tina had wrapped the red wool muffler around his neck to measure its length. That had been another nice surprise, to find she was doing that for him. ‘Ah sure, it’s not quite ready,’ he murmured. ‘I can wait.’
    A familiar noise made them both look back down the foggy street. It was the coalman, Daniel Barrett, leading his drayhorse home. Joe took Harry’s arm, bringing him to a stop.
    â€˜Watch,’ he whispered.
    As usual, Daniel Barrett clucked his horse to a halt in the middle of the road. Then, casually, as if he’d given it no thought at all, the big man fished in the pocket of his coal-stained jacket and produced his tobacco tin. As Daniel bent his head to fill and light his pipe, Joe nudged Harry and jerked his chin to indicate a slash of light high in Tina’s tenement. A curtain had been pulled partially aside, and a slim figure could be seen peering out.
    â€˜Fran,’ whispered Joe.
    Daniel Barrett leaned back against his horse and gazed up at the window where Fran the Apples stood. The horse, well used to this routine, sighed and shook her heavy head. Daniel exhaled a thin stream of blue smoke, his eyes never leaving the unresponsive sliver of light high in the darkness above him.
    Joe felt the old familiar sadness rise up in him. ‘Come on,’ he said, tugging Harry’s arm. ‘Leave him to his dreams.’
    They strolled on. After a while, Joe surprised himself by saying, ‘He’s a good man, you know, Mr Barrett. Works hard. Owns his own dray. Lives clean. A real good fella.’
    Harry glanced sideways at him. ‘There’s nothing can be done if the feelings aren’t there, Joe.’
    Joe shook his head. Fran the Apples loved Daniel Barrett, Joe was certain of it. He’d seen the look on her face when the big, quiet man came smiling to her stall for a chat and to buy an apple. When Daniel Barrett was around, Fran theApples looked like the young woman she really was. But Fran would never leave the