Summer on Kendall Farm by Shirley Hailstock Page A

father and the generations of Kendalls that had come before him.
    He would not go back.
    In his bungalow, Sheldon set a small pot in which he’d dumped a can of soup on the burner and waited for it to heat. Even though the temperature outside was nearing the century mark, he lunched on soup and bread, saving his dinner for the larger meal of the day. Tonight he was having canned chili with rice.
    Sheldon ate leisurely and alone. When he finished, he cleaned his dishes, set them in the drainer for use later and took a quick shower. He changed clothes and headed back to the cabin cruiser he was working on.
    “Whatcha doing?” Christian Mitchell, Audrey’s grandson asked.
    Sheldon looked down to find the nine-year-old standing next to him. He wore gray shorts and a white shirt with an anchor on the breast pocket. His feet were in deck shoes and no socks. Sheldon had met the boy several times and he always came to talk to him. While Sheldon wasn’t used to small children, he thought Christian missed male company.
    “Cleaning the bottom of the boat,” Sheldon told him.
    “How’d it get dirty?” he asked.
    “These things are in the water and they see the boat and they want to make it their home.”
    “So?”
    “They slow the boat down when it’s sailing and you know how much we all like speed.”
    Christian smiled. He’d seen Christian on his bicycle and knew if his grandmother found him riding in places this far from their home, she’d ban any use of the two-wheeler.
    “If we don’t get the barnacles off, they’ll eat right through and then the boat will leak. We can’t have that happening.”
    Christian was shaking his head slowly from left to right. “Then the boat would sink. And it they couldn’t swim, they could drown,” the child said.
    “That’s right.”
    “Can you sail?” Christian asked.
    “No,” Sheldon told him. As far as his work was concerned, he hoisted the boat out of the water and worked on it while it was either in dry dock or he’d swing it over the wharf and work on it there. He was doing that today.
    “How come you work on boats then?” Christian asked.
    “A man’s gotta eat,” he said.
    “You eat these?” The child’s face squinched up as he peered at the barnacles on the tarp and his expression was that of horror.
    “No, I don’t eat these,” Sheldon mimicked with a laugh.
    The child looked relieved. “They’re ugly,” he said.
    “That they are,” he agreed. He glanced farther down the marina and then by the row of houses leading away from the area. He didn’t see Audrey. “Does your grandmother know you’re here?”
    Christian stared at the ground, but didn’t say anything at first. “I told her I was going to play video games.”
    “Here, by the water?”
    He nodded, but Sheldon could see there was little belief in the gesture.
    “And what did she say?”
    “She told me to be home in time to eat.”
    “And that’s all she said?”
    He nodded.
    Sheldon stopped working and stooped down to Christian’s level. “I know you like the boats, Christian,” he said. “I know you like coming here, but your grandmother could be very worried if she can’t find you where you’re supposed to be. Do you understand?”
    He nodded again, but still refused to make eye contact with Sheldon.
    “Tell you what.”
    The boy looked up as if he was about to get a reprieve.
    “Why don’t you go tell her where you are. And if she says it’s all right, you can come back.”
    Christian smiled. He ran off, calling his grandmother.
    Sheldon watched him go. He smiled after the boy, his gangly legs trying to keep up with his growing body. At least there was one person who liked Sheldon for who he was. Christian didn’t mind being around him. He didn’t look at Sheldon’s clothes, his beard or where he lived and judge him as someone unworthy of his attention.
    Suddenly Sheldon remembered Jason. He was about Christian’s age when he came to live with them. Had Jason been as