Between Two Ends Read Free Page B

for him to light it, but Mr. Sutcliff merely sucked the end comfortably. “‘Now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.’” He returned to his window. “I believe in that. I really do.”
    Yeats gritted his teeth. Gran wanted the tea delivered and Yeats was determined to see it through. “Would you like your tea, sir?”
    The old man motioned with his pipe. Yeats took a few hesitant steps, then hastily set down the tray. He returned to the door. He needed to get downstairs and make sure his parents weren’t fighting.
    â€œWilliam
… is a man
,” Mr. Sutcliff murmured. He shook his head. After an uncomfortable silence he added, “Will he see me?”
    â€œI don’t know, sir,” Yeats answered. “I imagine he would.”
    â€œImagine?” The old man spun quickly.
    Yeats readied himself against the door frame.Mr. Sutcliff brushed long strands of hair from his eyes. “Yes,
imagine
. That’s the key. Has he the courage, I wonder?” He tapped the pipe against his lips. “I don’t even know if it’s possible. We don’t know enough, do we? Perhaps … perhaps with enough
sincerity
it might … I don’t know.” He was silent for so long, Yeats thought Mr. Sutcliff had forgotten him. Then the old man tapped his temple with an idea and spryly spun around. “Can
you?
Can you, Yeats? Dare you, I wonder? Would
you
have enough courage?”
    â€œI’ve got to go now,” Yeats stammered.
    Mr. Sutcliff pointed his pipe. “Remember the words, my boy? Do you remember?” The old man closed his eyes:
    â€œâ€˜Come away, O human child!
    To the waters and the wild
    With a faery, hand in hand,
    For the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand.’
    â€œThat was William Butler Yeats—your namesake. But I’m sure you knew that.”
    Yeats fled, landing on the stairs two at a timeand making such a commotion he expected them to break at any moment. He slowed near the kitchen only to find Odysseus trotting alongside him. The cat glared disapprovingly.
    Yeats gasped. “Don’t look at me like that!” When he realized his hands were shaking he turned them into fists. He glanced back at the stairs, then stepped into the adult conversation.
    His parents were sipping tea. He was comforted to see them sitting next to each other and his father’s glasses back on his nose. Odysseus demanded to be picked up.
    â€œHow did that go?” Gran asked.
    Yeats couldn’t tell if she was speaking to him or to the cat.
    â€œI gave him his tea,” he said.
    â€œGood lad.” Gran put the cat down. “You must be more careful on those stairs, dear. They aren’t used to such youthful energy. My goodness, you sounded like an Oliphant in distress.”
    Still panting, Yeats stammered, “He thought I was someone else. He thought I knew his granddaughter. Shaharazad or something?”
    His father’s cup rattled violently, followed swiftly by a curse as the tea shot over his knees. His mother’s teeth were clenched and the blood drained from her face. His father looked as if he was going to faint.

ran rested her hands on Yeats’s shoulders. Her words, however, were directed at his parents. “You are being silly—both of you. He is her grandfather, after all. And it is high time we all heard that name again.” She stopped Faith’s protest. “I know what you are thinking. I understand your fear.”
    William rose slowly. “Mum, I came here to fix
me
. This has nothing to do with Yeats.”
    â€œHow do you know that?”
    â€œBecause he wasn’t there!”
    Yeats appealed to Gran. “I wasn’t
where?
”
    She squeezed his shoulders. “Patience.” Shelooked at William. “He needs to know. Look at him! If anyone can help, it is this boy.”
    â€œMum … ,”