"Jay Lake - The Angle of My Dreams" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lake Jay)

Sometimes he'd set his hands on mine, and that was almost like being touched by Momma or Daddy
again. Granddaddy had never touched me before except to whip me or to drag me along somewhere.

Working on that model together was almost as good as flying. We even laughed a few times. One night
he walked into my room and took the nails out of my window. "I'm trusting you, Ronnie," was all he
said.

* * *

When we were almost done, it was time to place the decals on the model.

"No," I said. "Not Challenger."

Granddaddy raised his eyebrows. "One of the others?"

"McAuliffe. After the teacher."

"I know who she was." He looked at the decal sheet. "They didn't include that one."
"I want it." I felt stubborn suddenly, like fighting.

"All right," he said.

I didn't expect that, no hard words for my backtalk or nothing. Instead Granddaddy got a 00 brush out
and the gloss black paint. He just barely tipped the brush into the paint, sighed, and stared at the model.
After a few moments, Granddaddy reached over and painted a perfect "M" in four quick strokes.

"Wow," I said.

He smiled at me, the first time I'd seen that since before Momma died. "I studied to be an architect.
First thing they teach you is lettering."

I thought about that. "But you're a surveyor."

His smile died. "First there was the war, then your grandmother, then your Momma. I never got to finish
college."

I hugged him, hugged him so tight I thought his ribs might crack. Then he finished painting the letters.

* * *

Real early the next morning I slipped on my Keds and stuck the glued-together protractor in my pocket.
Then I went and knocked on Granddaddy's door. I needed to show him the most important thing I
knew.

"Sir," I whispered real loud. "Wake up, sir."

"What is it, Ronnie?" Through the door, his voice sounded like he'd never been asleep.

"Get dressed and come outside. I want to show you something. It's important, sir."