it was early october 1946, and noah calhoun watched the fading sun sink lower from the around porch of his plantation-style home. he liked to sit here in the evenings, especially after w hard all day, a his thoughts wander without scious dire. it was how he relaxed, a routine hed learned from his father.
he especially liked to look at the trees and their refles in the river. north carolina trees are beautiful in deep autumn: greens, yellows, reds, es, every shade iween. their dazzling clow with the sun, and for the huh time, noah calhoun wondered if the inal owners of the house had spent their evenings thinking the same things.
the house was built in 1772, making it one of the oldest, as well as largest, homes in new bern. inally it was the main house on a w plantation, and he had bought it right after the war ended and had spent the last eleven months and a small fortune repairing it. the reporter from the raleigh paper had done an article on it a few weeks ago and said it was one of the fi restorations hed ever seen. at least the house was. the remaining property was aory, and that was where hed spent most of the day.
the home sat on twelve acres adjat to brices creek, and hed worked on the wooden fehat lihe other three sides of the property, cheg for dry rot or termites, replag posts when he had to. he still had more work to do on it, especially on the west side, and as hed put the tools away earlier hed made a mental o call and have some more lumber delivered. hed goo the house, drunk a glass of sweet tea, then showered. he always showered at the end of the day, the water washing away both dirt and fatigue.
afterward hed bed his hair back, put on some faded jeans and a long-sleeved blue shirt, poured himself anlass of sweet tea, and goo the porch, where he now sat, where he sat every day at this time.
he stretched his arms above his head, then out to the sides, rolling his shoulders as he pleted the routine. he felt good and now, fresh. his muscles were tired and he knew hed be a little sore tomorrow, but he leased that he had aplished most of what he had wao do.
noah reached for his guitar, remembering his father as he did so, thinking how much he missed him. he strummed once, adjusted the tension on tws, then strummed again. this time it sounded abht, and he began to play. soft music, quiet music. he hummed for a little while at first, then began to sing as night came down around him. he played and sang until
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