The following is a sample chapter from Ron Phillips book "Gem of the first Water". This chapter is protected by copyright laws. You may not copy, distribute, print, or use in any manner this chapter without the express written permission of TSI.

Chapter 1 – Radino's

Bored, bored, bored, thought the Boy. What a rotten day. He was on his way to the arcade.

He charged a beer can sitting on the curb in front of him and, with a swift kick, sent it flying into the city traffic. He picked up a rock and threw it at a bird flying past. Every three or four steps, he uttered guiltily, "To heck with her. Man, she can just...."

The Boy's day had started off typically. He and his over-committed mother had had their usual morning battle.

"Honey, it's time to wake up," his mother had said.

"Aw ……"

"Honey, get your room clean before breakfast."

Under his breath, the Boy muttered, "I'm not gonna clean my room. I'm tired of this. They get me up and then zoom off to work. Their work's more important than me. Then on Saturday it's golf and antique shopping.'

"Honey, get up."

"I don't want to and I'm not going to!" The Boy counted to twenty, the door flew open, and his Dad stormed to the bed, jerked the covers off and shouted his usual, "You will get up, now!" And of course, Dad's power had gotten the Boy going.

The Boy walked out to the breakfast table, mumbling to himself. Both parents were reading the morning paper, just like every other morning. Smiling and pulling faces at their raised newspaper, the Boy was just three bites into his cereal when his father lowered the paper, glared and told him to be home on time tonight. At his father's first word the Boy lowered his eyes to the cereal. An attitude, which naturally wound his father up, spread across his face. His father went on about mowing the backyard and the Boy's room being a pig-sty, but the Boy smirked, chuckled to himself and never raised his eyes from the cereal bowl. In exasperation his father stormed away from the table.

The same script took place with his mother. When she finished she said, "Hon, the back lawn's the size of a postage stamp. You'll get done in no time and the other stuff is simple. And if you get it done, we'll do something special tonight, ok?" With no response from the Boy, she bent over to kiss him goodbye. However, as she leaned towards him, he leaned away and she missed him by six inches.

Now as the Boy headed to the mall, he decided to hassle the neighbors' gardeners by walking through the yards. Three of the gardeners shouted at him to walk on the sidewalk, but he paid no attention to them. He was angry. The course he took to the mall led through the richest residential area in the city. There were custom-built estates, each reflecting the owner's pride. The Boy's anger and boredom grew.

Strangely, he saw none of his friends at the regular places: no one at the park. Jay was not at home, the skateboard corner empty. The same was true at the mall. The video arcade was only filled with younger or older nerds. The Boy classified everyone younger or older as nerds. He waited and waited, with money in his pocket, tired of cokes, and still he waited. But no one showed up. He headed back to the park — only nerds. Everywhere the Boy thought his friends would be — no one.

"What's the story? A summer day, no parents to hassle me and nowhere to go. Well, one thing is for sure, I'm not cleaning my room and I'm not going home on time."

Sitting on a curb next to the park. he decided to go hassle Radino. "Ah, yes, Radino, that old Italian fool, the Boy thought. At least it's a place to hang out."

Radino was a neighbor, an old Italian gentleman. His home was ancient, not at all like the imposing houses that surrounded it. A two-story board house, Radino's was small by neighborhood standards. Every late spring, he painted the outside the same white enamel with green trim. Actually, with the manicured lawn, well-painted house, and the abundance of trees and bushes, Radino's place was eye-catching, but totally different than the surrounding well-heeled neighborhood.

Radino had lived right there for many, many years. The Boy's parents knew Radino's children. All of his kids had gone off to college and moved to other cities. Radino's wife had passed away ten years ago. Radino in many ways was all alone, yet he occupied his time with gardening, whittling, visiting, and listening to classical music. Radino was happy and the Boy knew it.

Their conversation always seemed to take on the same script. Of course Radino would want to know how his parents were, his brothers, his grandparents. And of course he'd question him about school. He asked about school even in the summer. The Boy was doing poorly academically and even worse behaviorally yet he always told Radino that it was OK.

There he was, rocking in his chair, whittling those weird creatures and smiling.

"Hey, kid, how are you doing?"

And the kid responded under his breath, "You stupid..."

The Boy loved Radino, although you would never know it because of the rough way he talked to the old man. Radino always had time. Radino listened. Radino agreed. Radino disagreed. Radino said strangely important things. Radino was his friend.

"Come on up!" invited Radino. "Sit down and talk to me awhile."

As the Boy approached Radino, he gave him his usual greeting. "Hey, old man, got any big buck offers on your dump? Radino, why do you live this way'? You're like a caveman. Get with the times. You are so out of touch." Radino smiled and continued to whittle. That smile always activated the Boy to continue his smart remarks. "Radino, you've got nothing. No TV, no VCR, no CD player. Just that silly stereo you play that Mozart junk on. You got nothin'!"

Finally Radino stood up, walked over to the porch rail, and said, "Hey, I got everything. I'm old, happy, and can tell you I've lived my life with integrity. By the way, you're kind of a punk. What do you think you have?"

The kid laughed, "Man, why don't you get with the times? You could sell this place and move up to old people's world."

Radino, still smiling amid obviously enjoying his young friend, returned to his rocker, picked up his whittling, and said, "Kid, it's not going to do one bit of good to tell you, but it will feel good to me, so I'm going to tell you.

"Kid, happiness in life is too simple. People can't find it, yet they spend fortunes trying. Your parents are well off. You have everything you need, plus lots of stuff you don't need and don't have time for. Am I right?" And the Boy, knowing that Radino was right, let his mind wander to his parents' sailboat, which hadn't been used all year.

Radino stopped his whittling to look directly at the Boy. "Are your parents satisfied? What do they always want? They always want more, am I right, kid'?" The Boy's eyes were looking straight down at the wooden porch. His mind was confirming Radio's comments.

"Kid, what do you want most of your parents, huh? People strive to be a success in life. Happiness to me, little old Radino, is simple. I strive to make my life successful."

The kid started to get anxious, not wanting to show Radino how true his words were. Standing up, he said. "Hey old man, let's go down to the shop."

Radino shook his head. "Naw, it's too pretty here."

"Radino, why don't you get with it?"

"I am with it!" said Radino. "I enjoy sitting here. I've been up since five this morning. Do you have any idea how beautiful mornings are? The world is beautiful waking up. By the way, kid, what time did you get up?"

"I didn't get up till late."

"How did you spend your morning?"

The words angry, mean, ugly, and selfish crept into the Boy's mind. he knew that he had wasted his morning in conflict. Now, though, he'd had enough of Radino's preaching. "Man, I've heard enough of this. This is the same old garbage you always come up with," he said as he got up to leave.

"Just a second," Radino responded. "Let's enjoy our conversation just a little more."

The Boy thought to himself, Enjoy our conversation? In part, the Boy thought how little he enjoyed the conversation, while at the same time he told himself, This guy's special. He really cares for me.

"Radino, let's go down to the shop," the Boy requested again.

"I don't want to go down to the shop right now, but why don't you come on in and I'll make you an Irish soda. I'm gonna make you an Irish soda. I'm Italian, full Italian, but I'm gonna make you an Irish soda." Radino chuckled as he got up from his rocker. The Boy followed him into the house. "You sit here." The living room was neat and orderly, but there was no radio, no TV, or any of the things you would expect to find.

Radino went into the kitchen. "Hey, kid," he called, "I hate to say it, but I'm missing one of the ingredients for the sodas."

The Boy yelled back from the living room, "Aw, I don't want one anyway. Forget it."

"Well, I want one!" Radino yelled back. "Didn't I say I'd make you an Irish soda? I'm gonna make you an Irish soda!"

"Well, you can't 'cuz you don't have what it takes," yelled the Boy.

"I'll get the stuff, kid," Radino said as he re-entered the living room. "We shall sip Irish sodas and very soon. I'm off to the store. Make yourself at home. I won't be but a minute."

The front door slammed, and, for the very first time, the Boy was all alone in Radino's house. Make myself at home, thought the Boy. OK, I will. Since he had never been upstairs, that's where his exploration started. Going up the beautiful wooden staircase, each step created a sense of excitement, intrigue, and a twinge of guilt. He explained away the last silly feeling by telling himself he was "making himself at home." At the top of the landing was a coat rack. Rugs lined the hardwood floor. The landing had a high ceiling that held a large chandelier. There were five tall, narrow doors — three on the Boy's right and two on his left. All the doors were closed. The dim lighting at the top of the stairs created a mysterious atmosphere. The thought that this was trespassing shot through the Boy's mind, but he easily dismissed the notion that his actions were wrong. He had become accustomed to lying and being devious.

The first door on the left was the bathroom it had a very high ceiling. Even with the light turned on it was dimly lit. The toilet, sink, and bathtub were old and odd enough to interest the Boy. The toilet's water chamber was set up on the wall with a flush chain attached. The sink had beautiful enamel flowers and bird claw feet, each holding a giant white marble. The tub was large and deep, and it too had claw feet. The Boy thought, Wow I really like this bathroom. Well, what else does old Radino have up here? This place is a trip.

The Boy returned to the landing amid crossed to the first door on the right. It was a storage room filled from top to bottom. The Boy entered, looking at the first layer of Radino's family's lifetime collections. A large shoebox caught his attention. He opened the box to discover baseball cards grouped with rubber bands. Wow Babe Ruth! These are super valuable, thought the Boy, slipping the group of cards into his back pocket. The room was so precariously jammed with memorabilia that the Boy's fear of knocking something over outweighed his minimal interest in the "old junk."

The next room contained only a single bed, nightstand with a Bible, a dresser, and an easy chair that sat inside the alcove of windows. The Boy walked over and looked out the window. Boring—just the backyard.

The third room was completely empty — clean, yet not a single item in it. With its polished floor and neatly papered walls, the room looked like it was waiting for someone to move in.

He paused at the last door. The Boy's pulse started to quicken. He heard gurgling coming from inside the room. He slowly opened the narrow door. Immediately he was overtaken by a pungent odour. He was overwhelmed. Never had he imagined Radino, or anyone for that matter, having a room like this. He tried to identify the odour. The only word that came into his mind was "knowledge." The noises he had heard on the landing were the bubbling of brightly columned liquids held in glass vials. Everywhere the Boy's eyes fell he experienced amazement. The room was cluttered yet clean; too many items and not enough room. There were statues of unearthly creatures, vials of bubbling liquids, books, photos, woven rugs, and a clothes rack with strange robes on it. Everywhere he looked he was filled with awe. Suspended from the ceiling were mobiles of solar systems unknown to the Boy. Carvings of strange creatures caught his attention. One particular carving reminded him of a raging bull and King Kong combined. Wow'! Too much! he thought. The rugs were works of art — tight picture weavings of unfamiliar places. On a desk made of bright yellow wood there was a large photo album, some model spaceships, and a digital machine receiving information in a foreign language. From the machine a continuous stream of messages unraveled on to the floor.

The Boy was breathless, his eyes were bugging out, and he just kept thinking, Radino's soooo... weird. Radino's too much!

There was so much to look at. Shelves of books with strange lettering, pictures of unknown lands, seas, and worlds. Photos of Radino dressed in a black, sequined cape with people and creatures that made the Boy think that surely it must have been a costume party. He found himself rubbing his eyes and pinching himself.

"This is too much! I can't wait to show all my friends," said the Boy. "They wont believe it." The Boy spun around to view the room from this side: the smells, the strange colours, the bizarre statues, the photos, the books, the display of medals. Radino, what kind of man is he? thought the Boy, gazing around the room. Even the floor was different. It wasn't the linear hardwood like the rest of the house; this room's floor was cut rocks polished smooth.

Suddenly he realized that one entire wall was covered from floor to ceiling by a maroon velvet curtain. It attracted him. He inspected the curtain and found it to be very thick. The cord was made of a strange, coarse material. With his hand on the draw cord, he turned to face the curtain and slowly pulled it open. The Boy was amazed. Before him was a sophisticated wall computer with lights, digital readouts, sections that had squiggly line readouts similar to those of brain-wave machines, and a command chair set into the wall. He could hardly breathe. At home he had video equipment, a personal computer, and the most up-to-date stereo units, but here before him was equipment out of the future. And to top it off, there was a built-in transmission chamber that resembled a shower, only it had ray-type lighting at the bottom and top.

"Wow!" exclaimed the Boy. As he backed away from the wall to better appreciate all there was to see, movement within the large picture album on the yellow desk caught his attention. He went over to the desk, stepped on to a small footstool, and peered at this incredible photograph. The scenery was beautiful; it looked as if a gentle breeze was blowing across a mountain meadow. "Wow, it's like a movie!" the Boy said with excitement.

As he continued to watch, he couldn't believe what he saw. It was a Boy — not just any Boy, but himself. He moved his face closer to the picture. Yes, he thought excitedly, it must be me! Then he heard the front door open and close. Radino!

Startled, the Boy turned from the photo album and knocked over one of the vials. The liquid spilled onto his arms and the album. Suddenly the room started to roll rhythmically, like a ship at sea. Then, slowly, the room began to spin. The Boy clutched the desk. With each revolution, the room spun faster and began to shrink. The Boy thought for sure he was going to he consumed by this room. Suddenly there was pressure mixed with movement and he felt like a piece of lint being sucked up by a vacuum cleaner.

In a flash, whether by magic or dream, he found himself standing in that same meadow with grass up to his knees. As he looked above the trees lining the meadow, the hole through which he had evidently entered this unknown land snapped shut, leaving only blue sky and fluffy white clouds.