A Minute to Smile Read Free Page A

students are in the class?”
    “Only eleven—most of them very intense, I should warn you. The sort of students who live and breathe for history. All of them are very bright, eloquent, and—” he gave her a rueful smile “—absurdly certain that the world we left was a far better one than the one in which we live.”
    “You sound as if you know them very well.”
    “Oh, I do. I proposed the class with all of them in mind. Obsession can be dangerous.” He shook his head. “You’ll see what I mean soon enough, I’m afraid.”
    “Believe me,” Esther said with asperity, “I’m familiar with the syndrome.” She laughed. “I’ve probably even been one of those students.”
    “As have I, I’m afraid.”
    A group of little boys rushed up to the door. “Mrs. Lucas, can Jeremy play?” one called through the screen.
    “He’s around back, guys.”
    Alexander watched the gaggle of them run toward a parked group of trikes and tiny two-wheelers.
    “Do you have children?” Esther asked.
    “No,” he said.
    “Somehow I didn’t think so.”
    “Oh, really? Why is that?” His question was more curious than anything.
    “You strike me as someone with an orderly life—and don’t ask me why, because I don’t know.”
    For a moment, he was surprised, then he laughed at how accurately she had pegged him. “As a matter of fact, I do have an orderly life.” He inclined his head, realizing with a small part of his mind that it had been literally years since he’d laughed out loud so spontaneously. “But would I still live amidst disorder if my children were grown and gone?”
    “Not a chance, Professor. That silver might fool some people, but you aren’t old enough to have children already sprung from the nest.”
    “Right again,” he said. He stood up. “I’ve got a feeling I’m going to like working with you, Ms. Lucas.”
    She inclined her head, as if taking his measure, a measure that somehow puzzled her. “The feeling is mutual.”
    “I’ll send you a syllabus for the class and you’ll have a clear idea of what I’ll need from you on that.” He stood up and extended a hand. “I’m listed in the university directory if you should have any questions—and I don’t live very far from here, either.”
    “All right. It was nice to meet you, Alexander Stone.”
    “Goodbye,” he said formally, and firmly placed his hat on his head. Outside, the day seemed bursting with life and energy. He decided suddenly to forego the work he’d had planned for this afternoon in favor of working out at the dojo.
    As he walked home to get his things, he found himself whistling.

Chapter Two
    T he dojo was nearly empty on this warm afternoon, which suited Alexander as well as if it had been filled with people. He didn’t come here for social reasons.
    The room was still, with reflected light falling in soft white arcs to the mats from windows high in the walls. It smelled faintly of hardworking bodies and the polish on the floors, with a hint of the incense Ryohe Kobayashi burned in his private room. As Alexander headed barefooted toward the unoccupied end of the room, he nodded at a young muscular man working with a heavy bag suspended from the ceiling.
    Shutting external signals out, Alexander moved into the tai chi chuan exercise that had led him into the practice of martial arts as a boy. A series of 128 slow-motion movements, it served to loosen his body and shut down his brain. After so many years, he was able to block his rational processes, but another portion of his mind never entirely quieted. A purely sensual vision of Esther flashed against the darkened screen of memory, a vision of yellow light shimmering in her pale copper hair, of her sloe-eyed smile and throaty voice.
    No thoughts. He pushed them away, slowly easing away even the vision of Esther as he sought the quiet of mind that marked true discipline.
    Some days, when he worked hard and long, he found himself suspended in the flow and