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Chapters (53)
  1. Books by Michael Thomas Ford
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Author’s Note
  5. CHAPTER 1
  6. CHAPTER 2
  7. CHAPTER 3
  8. CHAPTER 4
  9. CHAPTER 5
  10. CHAPTER 6
  11. CHAPTER 7
  12. CHAPTER 8
  13. CHAPTER 9
  14. CHAPTER 10
  15. CHAPTER 11
  16. CHAPTER 12
  17. CHAPTER 13
  18. CHAPTER 14
  19. CHAPTER 15
  20. CHAPTER 16
  21. CHAPTER 17
  22. CHAPTER 18
  23. CHAPTER 19
  24. CHAPTER 20
  25. CHAPTER 21
  26. CHAPTER 22
  27. CHAPTER 23
  28. CHAPTER 24
  29. CHAPTER 25
  30. CHAPTER 26
  31. CHAPTER 27
  32. CHAPTER 28
  33. CHAPTER 29
  34. CHAPTER 30
  35. CHAPTER 31
  36. CHAPTER 32
  37. CHAPTER 33
  38. CHAPTER 34
  39. CHAPTER 35
  40. CHAPTER 36
  41. CHAPTER 37
  42. CHAPTER 38
  43. CHAPTER 39
  44. CHAPTER 40
  45. CHAPTER 41
  46. CHAPTER 42
  47. CHAPTER 43
  48. CHAPTER 44
  49. CHAPTER 45
  50. CHAPTER 46
  51. CHAPTER 47
  52. CHAPTER 48
  53. Copyright Page

“I’ve discovered that Steinbeck has a way of bringing people together in curious ways,” Helen announced. “It was part of his magic, I think. I’ve seen a fisherman who barely made it past the sixth grade discuss The Moon Is Down with a college professor, and quite vigorously, I might add. There’s something about the man that seduces you in the best sense of that word.”

A change had come over her voice, a kind of dreamy quality that suggested a longing for far-off places, or the remembrance of a first love. In another setting, Hudson might have mistaken it for the voice of a woman recalling a favorite suitor. But he knew what Helen meant; he’d felt it himself. It was, after all, why he was sitting in a chair in her office.

“Did your husband know about this affair you were having with Mr. Steinbeck?” Hudson asked.

Helen laughed briskly. “I like you, Mr. Jones,” she said. “I liked you well enough from our e-mail conversations, but now I know that I truly like you. And to answer your question, my husband no more understood my affair with John Steinbeck than I understood his love of golf. Some things are simply mysteries to outsiders. Now, are you finally going to tell me what brings you all the way to Salinas from Yale University? Surely you haven’t come just to get a look at me.”

“No,” Hudson answered. “Although that’s an added benefit.” He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. He’d told Helen Guerneyser sort of a half truth about his project. Partly this had been pure professional paranoia, but also he’d wanted to wait until he was at the National Steinbeck Center before he revealed too much. The truth was, he was afraid that if he told anyone the full story, they might prevent him from getting his answer.

“Well, as I said in my e-mails,” he began again, “I’m doing my thesis on Steinbeck’s journals. I’m interested in looking at the materials that haven’t been given widespread study.” He glanced at the archivist’s face, trying to read her reception to his story, but found there only polite attention.

“Everybody has looked at the Grapes of Wrath material,” he continued. “Also the East of Eden notes. Even the Sea of Cortez stuff has been done to death. I’m more interested in the lesser known books—The Moon Is Down, The Wayward Bus—things like that. What I really want to do is compare what Steinbeck was living, what he was feeling, to what ended up in those books.”