Page:Jay Little - Maybe—Tomorrow.pdf/314

 maybe just because they belonged to Rogers, maybe because he had never had on a pair before … "I hate to wear your good boots, Glenn. I might get them scratched."

"So what? I can shine them again," said Rogers. "Better take some shoes too. In case your feet get tired."

Shortly thereafter, Gaylord, equipped with cowboy boots, and accompanied by Rogers, departed for his home. Rogers was already in a gay mood over the anticipated outing. His mood increased still further when he learned that Gaylord was anxious to see his old haunts; and it made him feel good that his friend wore his boots. His joy was so obvious and overflowing, it seemed to rub off to Gaylord, for he too looked happy.

Blake was forgotten. For the first time he was wearing cowboy boots and going fishing. Maybe this was the turning point of his life. He was doing what other boys did. He had never been privileged to enjoy such a friendship before, and he found it fun to be going fishing. His father had tried to arouse his interest in sports and hunting, but somehow this was different. His mother had always discouraged such things with the pretext that it was, "unsafe, and dangerous," for Gaylord to "shoot" or "cast" … "Why he might get shot, or have an eye put out."

Though Carol Le Claire had been sincere in deploring these, she had unknowingly blundered. She never once realized how unhappy her son actually was.

But this morning he was a real boy and there was no question of unsuitability, of getting shot or blinded. He had thrown the powder puff away and now wore a good shiny skin. And he was actually going fishing.

"Do you have a reel for me, Glenn … I don't have any."

"No, but I've got some poles … you can't use a rod and reel where we're going."

"That's fine."

"Don't you worry about any of that stuff. Just leave it all to me."

"Okay …"

It seemed the night had descended again on entering the Le 304