by Bob Shaw
“I’m positive, thanks.” Theo spoke with the voice of an adult. “I can wait a couple of years.”
“If I thought you needed…”
“It’s the least I can do.” Theo smiled and stood up, releasing Hasson from self-imposed obligations. “I’m going away myself, you know. I talked it over with Mum last night and she says she has plenty of room for me in Vancouver.” “That’s great,” Hasson said awkwardly. “Listen, Theo. I’ll go out there some time and see you. Okay?”
“It’s fine with me.” The boy smiled again, too polite to show his disbelief, shook hands with Hasson and left the room.
Hasson watched him depart, then returned to the task of loading his panniers with the essentials for a protracted solo flight. He had no fixed destination in mind — only an instinctive need to travel south and west, to begin his new life by pitting himself against the ancient curving vastness of the Pacific Ocean, to atone for the years he had wasted in parochialism and conformity by losing himself in domains where time and history had established no beachheads. A few minutes later — all preparations completed, all regrets put aside — he took off into the still blue air above Tripletree, and went for a long walk in the sky.
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Document ID: fbd-e17a44-615d-4d40-199d-e6ce-ed8a-5d519b
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 21.03.2010
Created using: Fiction Book Designer, FB Editor v2.0 software
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