The Legend of the Firewalker Read Online Free Page A

before noon.
    Nathan showered, put on a pair of shorts, and wore his favorite IUCF T-shirt. He bought it when he first arrived on campus the previous fall, and it was his favorite because it had no sleeves. He hated wearing anything that was too constricting, especially on his arms. 
    He stared in the mirror at the now over-washed T-shirt and thought it was interesting that before, he had never d esired to wear an IUCF one, even though campus was a short commute away. Nathan felt that he ended up at IUCF by default and had never really put thought into attending anywhere else. Lafonda, on the other hand, had been set on going there since high school. He thought this was mainly because her father, Avery, and her grandmother LaDonda were both alums of the school.
    Nathan’s stomach grumbled as he entered the hallway. As he got closer to the kitchen, he heard his grandfather mumbling something in Russian over the sound of rattling pots and pans. “What the heck is he looking for?” Nathan muttered. “We never use the kitchen.”
    Apart from drinks and snacks, they normally cooked or ate at the main house. This was mainly because neither of them could cook very well and both loathed washing dishes. Nathan was convinced that if it weren’t for Lafonda’s grandmother, everyone would starve. Lafonda wasn’t a wiz in the kitchen either, and after her dad accepted a position in England, her parents were hardly ever home.
    Nathan entered the kitchen to find his grandfather on his knees with his head buried in one of the bottom kitchen ca binets.
    “So, what’s for breakfast, Grandpa?” he asked teasingly and with a half grin.
    “I’ll grandpa you!” Rodion answered from inside the cabinet.
    “I don’t smell anything burning, so you’re obviously not cooking,” laughed Nathan.
    The rattling and clinking sounds of metal abruptly came to a stop. Nathan’s grandfather stood up, revealing a slender man with an olive skin tone. His hair was white but full, and his face was sprinkled with signs of age. Although Nathan’s skin was pecan in color, his grandfather in his youth probably looked much like Nathan.
    “Well,” Rodion said, after taking a deep breath. “Look who decided to join the living and actually start their day before everyone else goes to sleep.”
    Nathan smiled and casually leaned against the small wooden island in the middle of the kitchen. “It’s summer, Grandpa,” he whined. “Plus, I had all morning classes last semester, and based on that alone, I think I am in need of some much deserved shut-eye.”
    “Oh, I’m sure you were stuck with all morning classes through no fault of your own,” Rodion chuckled. “And I’m sure it has nothing to do with procrastinating, or playing vi deo games, or perhaps registering late, or all of the above.”
    Nathan sighed heavily. “Can’t I do anything without Lafonda keeping tabs on me?” he groaned. “What else did your annoying little spy report?”
    Rodion frowned. “First, as if I need to have a spy to know what my only grandson does; and second, I thought we had agreed that I was too young looking and too handsome to be called grandpa.” he retorted. “You know that I’d rather you call me Roy.”
    Rodion had taken to the nickname Roy after Lafonda had started calling him that several years before.
    “Grandpa!” Nathan whined, through glaring eyes. “Did she happen to mention that I almost made the Dean’s List last semester? If it weren’t for my Spanish class, I would have gotten all As.”
    “No, she didn’t,” grinned Roy, returning back to his search. “But I do recall her mentioning something about her making the Dean’s List and earning all As both semesters.”
    “Ugh!” groaned Nathan. “Whatever.” His stomach co ntinued to growl as he perused the refrigerator. “Is there anything to eat?”
    “I don’t know. You will have to look for yourself,” said Roy, shuffling through the pots and pans. “And how do you expect