Breakthrough (12)
Sanborne paused for a moment and
furrowed his brow. “If you didn't invent it, why are you the one coming
to me with it?”
“Well, my grandson couldn't very well have done this himself. Would you have listened to a nine-year-old boy?”
Sanborne made no attempt to argue.
“His parents wouldn't listen to him, either.”
Sanborne leaned back in his chair, looked at the ceiling tiles, then examined his hands. “Why did you believe him?” he finally asked.
“There wasn't all that much to believe. He didn't even claim to have invented anything.” McGinty crossed his legs, leaned back, and sat less stiffly. “I just woke up from my nap, and heard the most peculiar calm, polite talk coming from all the kids. Got any idea how unusual that is in a group of kids?”
The other man smiled. “I have a couple of my own.”
“Well, my grandson couldn't very well have done this himself. Would you have listened to a nine-year-old boy?”
Sanborne made no attempt to argue.
“His parents wouldn't listen to him, either.”
Sanborne leaned back in his chair, looked at the ceiling tiles, then examined his hands. “Why did you believe him?” he finally asked.
“There wasn't all that much to believe. He didn't even claim to have invented anything.” McGinty crossed his legs, leaned back, and sat less stiffly. “I just woke up from my nap, and heard the most peculiar calm, polite talk coming from all the kids. Got any idea how unusual that is in a group of kids?”
The other man smiled. “I have a couple of my own.”
(c) COPYRIGHT 2010 ROBERT
WINTER. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.