This time, Sylvan Cheney walked him all the way to the kindergarten entrance, even got out of the car, and watched him enter the kindergarten.
Chale Cheney thought it was because of the scary incident that happened yesterday that Elder Cheney took such good care of him.
But he really liked the feeling of Elder Cheney dropping him off at school.
At the entrance of the kindergarten, Sylvan Cheney leaned against the door of the Rolls-Royce.
In the early morning breeze, he lit a cigarette, the smoke wafting, the cigarette glowing intermittently.
It had rained heavily all night, and the rain had stopped just an hour ago.
The ground was full of puddles, rough and irregular, shimmering under the sunlight.
The leaves, washed by the torrential rain, glowed with a dark green light, while yellow tender buds sprouted on the willow branches.
It was still ice-cold at the end of winter.
Chale Cheney walked, looking back every three steps.
He waved at Sylvan Cheney.
