The Darkening Dream Read Free Page B

interrupted by a little gate. Sam crept to this opening, peered in, and called out.
    “Hello there, sorry to—” Another shot rang out. “Disturb you. Didn’t mean to mess up your shot, sir.”
    Anne grabbed the reins of Sam’s horse as she passed.
    Sarah saw through the gate into a large space overgrown with grasses. Striding toward them was a young man, compact and wiry, with fair skin, dark curly hair, and just the hint of a goatee. He was dressed in peculiar baggy black trousers tucked into knee-high boots, and a loose white linen blouse with an old-fashioned embroidered vest. Slung over his shoulder was a long rifle on a thick leather strap. He looked vaguely familiar.
    “I apologize if my gunfire disturbed you.” His voice was slightly accented. “I only just arrived in America this summer, and in my homeland a little target practice is almost a national pastime.”
    Sam examined the gun on the young man’s shoulder. “I haven’t seen a bolt action like this before.”
    The young man swung the weapon off his back. “It’s a Mannlicher-Schönauer, Austrian-made for the Greek army.” He fussed with the mechanism. “There’s an interesting rotating bolt action—”
    Anne directed her horse’s nose onto Sam’s shoulder and her attention to the newcomer.
    “Aren’t you in my Natural Science class?”
    He studied their faces. “Indeed, and we’ve forgotten our manners! My name’s Alexandros Basileus Palaogos.” He performed a funny little bow, leaning on the rifle for support. “But please, call me Alex.”
    Sarah tried to visualize each of her own classes. No wonder he looked familiar. She found him sitting in the back right corner of first period Senior English. Her own desk was in the front left, near the teacher.
    Sam smiled. He shared that science class with his sister. “I’m Sam Williams, the corrector of our manners is my twin sister Anne, and this young lady is Miss Sarah Engelmann.”
    Alex — who she’d never really paid attention to in school — shifted his attention to her now, and Sarah felt more heat on her skin than the morning temperature warranted.
    “Have you been to the Acropolis?” Of course she was showing off her conversational Greek. “Or to the Oracle’s cave at Delphi?” She’d never traveled beyond Boston, but she desperately wanted to visit Europe.
    “Yes, on all accounts, although your grammar is more suited to Sophocles than the streets of Athens.” His Greek was perfect — and why shouldn’t it be? “But your charms bring to mind golden Aphrodite.”
    At once prickled and flattered, Sarah wasn’t about to let the newcomer get the upper hand. Using a proper if awkward dactylic hexameter, she said, “Good thing I’m laughter-loving Aphrodite as well, if you’re going to throw epithets from Homer around.”
    Alex laughed. “I’m being rude yet again,” he said in English and glanced at the twins.
    Anne moved her horse closer to Sarah’s. “We’ve come out of town for a ride and a picnic,” she said. “If you’ve had enough of killing innocent cans, you’re welcome to join us.”
    Sarah felt a little stab of jealousy. Ridiculous. Realistically, she was going to have to start considering Papa’s yeshiva bucher selections soon enough.
    “Bring the gun,” Sam said. “I’ve a pistol. After we eat we can shoot targets for pennies.”
    The newcomer had better have money. Sam had taken the state fair marksmanship prize three years running.
    “Let me fetch Bucephalus,” Alex called back over his shoulder as he turned toward his barn.
    Now that took the cake. The young man had named his horse after Alexander the Great’s stallion.

Four:
    Picnic
    Near Salem, Massachusetts, Sunday, October 19, 1913
    A LEX JOGGED TO THE BARN and started the process of wrestling Bucephalus into his tackle and harness. He wanted to rush back as fast as he could. His life right now was boring, and he knew it.
    The move to America had been exciting: the train ride