The Kaleidoscope Read Online Free Page A

sky blue from the cloud-filled heavens. To thank Father for the years of allowing him free passage into his church and computer files, Walter had made an identical kaleidoscope to present to the man who had rescued him from the street, a bedraggled, anonymous face in the soup line years ago. The bits of stained glass tumbled in the chamber, arranging into patterns of exquisite beauty, each tiny piece hand chosen for its color, shape, and clarity, polished and smoothed for hours.
    He absently sucked at the knuckle of his right thumb where a tiny sliver of cobalt blue still lodged, testimony of his devotion to the work of art that would carry his legacy into the next age. The twin ’scopes lay side by side. One he would leave behind, and one would go into the world. The world would never be the same.
    The Kaleidoscope would usher in a new age.
    A savory scent of stewed tomatoes and garlic lured him upstairs, and Walter stood in line with the other street folk for his bowl of chicken soup, garlic toast, and mac and cheese.
    “You still here?” A guy calling himself Luke had been a frequent visitor. Walter often shared a bench with him in the relief center over hot meals. “Thought you were headed out of town.”
    “Soon.”
    “Where you going next?”
    Walter shrugged. “I guess I’ll figure out something. Get your tooth fixed?”
    Spoon clattering into his bowl, Luke pulled back his lip, exposing an inflamed gap in the gums. Walter held his breath against the foul odor. “Doc wants me to take antibiotics.”
    Walter nodded.
    “Say, I got an idea. Last few months, before I could get south, I was staying in a house. Not much to speak about, but it’s got a roof and water well. No ’lectric, but you can burn wood in the stove.”
    Speaking just loud enough for Luke to hear him over the kitchen clatter, but not so the others nearby could overhear, Walter asked, “Where ’bouts?”
    Luke described several turns off a major road in the mountains near Yosemite. “Pretty sure it used to be a logger’s shack. Some of the hikers stop there when the storms catch ’em. Some drugs mebbe, used to be some parties.”
    Walter replied noncommittally. Could be a trap. “You not goin’ back?”
    “Naw.” Luke lifted a forkful of macaroni. “Been trying to get this far south for years.” He pointed to his cheek. “Been in pain all winter. It’s nice to be where it’s warm and I can get medical.”
    “Any land around this cabin? For a garden?”
    “Oh, yeah. Acres and acres.” He wiped a sleeve, smearing goo across his chin stubble. “You willing to work it, you might grow something soon as the ground thaws.”
    “It safe?”
    Luke’s eyes flicked left and right. “I left a shotgun under the floorboards in the bedroom. Jams once in a while, but you take some shells up there and don’t mind a gamble, you can use it to run off the troublemakers.”

Chapter Three
    Harold’s alarm went off, and he sensed this Monday was not going to offer the same comforting routine around which he’d shaped his life. At any moment he could receive notice the interview committee was ready for him, and he would need to be prepared. While having his every-other-Saturday haircut, he had come up with an idea to meet Clyde’s challenge. An idea that made his stomach tumble topsy-turvy when he thought of actually going through with it.
    Weekends with Georgia had been stressful, but he put up with her notions to keep the peace. He most resented their lack of routine; the pressure to find “wacky, exotic activities” to keep her happy was exhausting. Having his control back was the one good thing about her absence.
    Now that she’d left, he was free to follow a weekend schedule that almost rivaled his weekdays. He wrote all chores, categorized either “weekly,” or “monthly,” on a white board on his fridge, then referred to the day’s list before heading out. Following a route he’d mapped out to most efficiently cover the