Chapter FiveThe room came back into focus as Henry realized Uncle Ben's voice no longer told his story.
It was the present and they both sat, lost in their thoughts.
A long, drawn out sigh. Uncle Ben pressed his lips together in a grim attempt at a smile. “I need a little break,” he said and he leaned forward, gathering up the dirty plates and cups. “These things need washing.”
“Does it still exist, that place?” Henry asked as he accompanied his uncle into the kitchen.
Furiously scrubbing the crockery with a faded Brillo pad, Uncle Ben shook his head, drying the plates and setting them carefully on the draining board.
He reached out and ruffled Henry's hair. “No,” Uncle Ben said, stifling a yawn, “it's long gone.” His eyes took on a distant look as he stared back into his lost childho
