How can something so small contain the promise of

something so wonderful?

What Readers Are Saying About

The Ruby Float

“This captivating tale takes the reader on a voyage full of adventure
and critical truths. The Ruby Float is an innovative and refreshing
piece of children’s literature that is written in a spirit unmatched
since the days of C.S. Lewis.”
—Karisa J. Peer, Teacher, Student, Avid Reader

“Awesome book! Always made me come back for more!”

—Sakai DeHerrera, Young Reader, Book Lover

“A refreshing story of adventure and hope that lifts your spirit and
fills your soul.”
—Dave Cuff, Pastor, Calvary Chapel MidValley, Encino, CA

“The Ruby Float is a captivating story about redemption and hope in

which the author brilliantly illustrates God’s grace in redeeming us
from our fallenness.”
—Frederick White, Poet, Novelist, Professor of English

“For those who see good Christian literature as an effective evange-

lism tool, The Ruby Float is a must-read, a must-pass-along!”
—Andrew Cuff, Poet, Literature Buff
Dancing Pen Books

The Ruby Float

Have you ever searched for hope
in a hopeless situation? Where do
you begin looking? How can you
distinguish between what is true
and what is false?

Nate and Samantha suddenly find

themselves in a world without
hope. Someone they dearly love
is gravely ill and another is terribly
depressed. Though they desper-
ately want to help, there seems to
be nothing they can do.

Then, one day, they find a strange object floating in the sea.
It is a small, hollow, glass ball the color of a beautiful red ruby.
So deep is its redness that it appears black, like a highly pol-
ished black stone. But when Nate and Samantha hold it up to
the light, not only does it reveal its breathtakingly beautiful
ruby-red color, but something that will turn their whole world
upside down.

Come along with our two adventurers as they set their sails for
the incredible world of The Ruby Float.
 The Ruby Float: A Tale Of Hope
Copyright © 2011 by Rick Nau
Published by Dancing Pen Books
www.dancingpenbooks.com

Cover by Bettina Meyburg Nau

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,

stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any
means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise,
without the prior permission of the author, except as provided by
USA copyright law.

First Kindle Edition: October 2011

The Ruby Float
A Tale Of Hope

by Rick Nau
Illustrations by Sukwan Myers
 Dedication
For Bettina, The Love Of My Life
 Welcome

“Hello to you, dear reader. My name’s Daph. That’s my brother, Josh,

sitting next to me. Together we make up the welcoming committee
for The Ruby Float. As some of you may already know, The Ruby
Float is a story that our great grandfather first told when all books
were made of paper. Now, as you can see, everything has changed. I’ll
let Josh tell you about that.”
“Hi, I’m Josh. If you’re listening to my voice as you’re reading this,
it is most definitely not me. This will not change the story, however,
which is all about Nate and Samantha and their grandparents, who
are Hank and Harriet. My sister and I like this story very much, so
much so that when our great grandfather first told it, we interrupted
him constantly, so often that the publisher of the paper edition of
the story took out almost everything that we had to say. As the story
wasn’t about us, we didn’t think much about it, but when our great
grandfather saw it, he was quite upset. ‘You must put them back in
right now,’ he said, ‘or that’s it.’ It is a crazy story, as you can see, es-
pecially the explanation for why they did it, which I’ll leave to Daph.”
“Yes, it was a crazy explanation. For one thing, they said that people
would mix us up with Nate and Sam, which is absolutely ridiculous.
Second, they said there would be too many quotation marks. People
would see them and say to themselves, ‘Yuck, way too many quota-
tion marks,’ and not read the story. But or great grandfather stood
firm. ‘You shall not only add back the quotation marks, you shall add
back what is between the quotation marks, which happens to be my
favorite great grandchildren, Daph and Josh.’ And so here we are, not
only between the quotation marks, but in front of the whole book,
welcoming you to one of the most wonderful stories you will every
read. Well, that’s it for me. How about you, Josh?”
“That’s it for me, too, except to say, please accept our most cordial
invitation to the wonderful world of The Ruby Float. All you’ve got
to do to enter is turn the page.”
Thanks so much,

Daph & Josh

 Our Invitation To You

A boy and girl went to the sea

In deep and dark despair,
When something dancing on the waves
Sent sparkles through the air.
They plucked it from the water’s edge,
A sphere of deepest red,
And found within amazing words
That chased away their dread.
So come with them as they do raft
Across the bounding main,
In search of One who promises
To heal them of their pain.
The people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and upon
those who sat in the region and shadow of death light has dawned.
Matthew 4:16
 Chapter One

An Outing On The Lake


Our story begins on a Sunday. It is a gorgeous spring afternoon on a
small, Texas lake with tree-lined shores and dark, glistening waters.
Jesse is at the oars of a bright red rowboat. His two great grandchil-
dren are riding in the stern with their feet dangling in the cool wa-
ters. Fishing poles, tackle boxes, life vests and a large picnic basket
indicate the nature of their expedition, one that takes place every
Sunday afternoon at this time. These seemingly routine outings al-
low the children’s parents to be alone together for a few hours of
dearly needed peace and quiet.
At this moment the boat is but a short distance from Shady Point,
so named by Jesse and his great grandchildren. Here a great willow
tree leans over the lake, casting its shade upon the water and offering
protection from the burning rays of the sun. It is here that Jesse and
his great grandchildren picnic and fish. But most of all, it is here that
Jesse tells them his many tales.
“I am not sure where to start this story,” Jesse said as the boat entered
the shade of the great willow. “I mix things up at times, you know.
Not the facts, mind you, but the order in which the facts occur. Don’t
 The Ruby Float
ask me to tell a tale straight out in the order it happens.”
“Please, oh please, Grandpa,” Daph said. “Do get on with it. You say
this every time about your stories and every time they turn out just
fine.”
Daph is Jesse’s great granddaughter, a spunky young girl with blue
eyes and an ever-present smile that belies her love of pushing an ar-
gument to the limit. Though her reply to Jesse’s disclaimer regarding
his tales is correct, it is true that he worries about such things. He is
getting up there in years, as some say, evidenced by his grey hair, dis-
torted hearing and eyesight so poor that it fills bare trees with leaves
and leaves evergreens with no leaves at all. Nevertheless, his imagi-
nation is young and vibrant. You should be cautioned, however, that
his tales, as does this one, often take place in earlier times, so do not
be surprised if a tall sailing ship or men on horseback suddenly come
into view.
“I will be talking about far-off places and of things uncomfortable to
the comfortable,” he said, bringing the boat to a stop with the oars.
“You always say that,” said Josh.
Josh is the older of the two siblings. He has short brown hair, dark
eyes and is a bit stout for his age. Like his great grandfather, he has
an adventurous spirit. He loves to fish, not for the sake of catching
the mostly tiny bluegills that thrive in this lake, but because he loves
being on boats and dreams of one day sailing across the open sea.
As does his sister, he also likes to argue. He can become belligerent
when he feels offended, a trait of character which Daph’s argumenta-
tive and sometimes self-righteous attitude is capable of bringing to
the fore.
“Don’t interrupt,” instructed Daph. “It’s not polite, as you should
know.”
“Let’s not start that,” said Jesse, wanting to head off the first quarrel of
the day. “I can’t tell a story with you two going at each other. Besides,
you’ll scare off the fish.”
 Rick Nau
Jesse waited as the two children baited their hooks with worms and
dropped their lines over the side of the boat. He had taught them
how to fish in the old-fashioned, sentimental way, with bamboo
poles and brightly colored bobbers that dance up and down in the
water whenever a bluegill is on the line. A good day’s fishing would
bring in twenty or thirty of these tasty little fish, so we shall not inter-
rupt Jesse’s story to provide details on these catches, which Daph and
Josh find to be very exciting.
“I’m ready for the story,” said Daph, now that her line was set.
“Me, too,” said Josh.
Jesse rested his back against the large, wicker picnic basket and
formulated his thoughts. The children quietly waited. Bright green
dragonflies circled the boat and near the shore the water gliders sent
small, dancing ripples through the beautiful waters of the lake.
“There was once a young boy and girl,” he began. “If I remember cor-
rectly, the girl’s name was—”
Jesse pretended to be searching for her name. It was a game especial-
ly concocted for Daph, who never tired of it, though Josh considered
himself too old for such nonsense.
“Could it have been Alice?” asked Daph.
“No. It wasn’t Alice.”
“Chloe,” chimed in Josh. He knew this could not be her name. It did
not sound like a name in one of Jesse’s tales, which is why he had
suggested it.
“No. It wasn’t Chloe.”
“Susan,” said Daph, exhaling the word into Jesse’s face with such
force that it ruffled the gray hair on his head.
This did not faze Jesse in the least. He was quite accustomed to the
constant battering that children give to adults.
“No. It wasn’t Susan,” he answered. “Susan is close, though. It was
 The Ruby Float
Samantha, actually, now that I remember. And the boy’s name was
Nathaniel, though he liked to be called Nate.
“Like you, Nate and Samantha were brother and sister. Nate was Sa-
mantha’s older brother. Or, if you’d prefer to have it the other way
around, Samantha was Nate’s younger sister. Samantha usually went
by Sam, whereas Nathaniel, as I’ve said before, liked to be called Nate.
“These two energetic siblings lived in a beautiful town by the sea that
was like ours in many ways. Its people ate the same kind of food that
we eat, celebrated birthdays and weddings and holidays, just as we
do, and wore the same sort of clothes, though their winter wardrobes
were sparser than ours due to the exceptionally mild climate in that
region of the world. There were no automobiles, however, though
there were plenty of bicycles, which allowed everyone to get around
quite nicely.
“Whenever Nate and Sam biked down the town’s main street they’d
see Crazy Al’s pet store on the left and smell chocolate coming from
Aunt Wanda’s House of Fudge, which was right next to it. Across
the street they’d see the library, which was constructed of beauti-
ful finished pine. Their grandfather built and designed this gorgeous
structure. His name is Hank. We’ll meet him a bit later in our story.
“A little farther down the street they’d pass their school. A white
picket fence was at the front, as well as a flagpole and a small rose
garden. Then came the fire station, the police station, city hall and
a dance hall. Eventually they’d arrive at a small harbor overflowing
with sailing vessels of every size and shape. From there they’d take
a right and head up the last side street that paralleled the coast until
they reached the prettiest home on the block. You wouldn’t need a
degree in architecture to recognize that their grandfather also de-
signed and built this beautiful structure.
“So far, it looks like Nate and Samantha live in an idyllic seaside town
that has everything, save for a lot of cars and modern sailing vessels.
But if we probe a little deeper, beneath the surface of this seemingly
peaceful community, into the hearts and minds of its people, we’ll
find waters that are dark and disturbed. We’ll find something miss-
 Rick Nau
ing, something that no town or person can exist without.”
“What is that?” asked Josh, suddenly becoming much more inter-
ested.
Jesse leaned forward and withdrew the picnic basket that his back
had been propped against.
“How about a bite to eat?” he said with a twinkle in his eye.
“Then you’ll tell us what is missing?” asked Daph.
 Chapter Two

Dreams Of A Raft


Josh and Daph spread a blue picnic blanket across the center plank
of the rowboat and carefully set out a wealth of the most fantas-
tic edibles you will ever see—potato salad with pink potatoes and
sweet pickles, chocolate brownies loaded with black walnuts, freshly
squeezed lemonade brimming with ice, marinated chicken roasted
to golden perfection, oven hot bread, and gigantic, homemade gar-
lic dill pickles. Who had prepared this luscious, mouth-watering
spread? None other than Grace, the beautiful woman to whom Jesse
has now been married for nearly sixty-five years.
“Here’s a big drumstick,” said Josh, handing it to Jesse.
“Not so fast,” said Jesse. “Aren’t we forgetting something?”
Daph was already digging her way through the pink potato salad.
Josh had a large hunk of chicken jammed into his mouth.
Daph immediately put down her food and looked sheepishly at Jesse.
It was too late for Josh, however, who uttered a series of indistinct,
short phrases punctuated by intervals of chewing, which sounded
like “already . . . silently . . . to myself . . . you go ahead.”
 Rick Nau
Daph followed with a prayer containing so many sweet references to
her great grandfather that a red flush came to the skin beneath the
grey stubble covering his cheeks.
“Good,” said Jesse. “I think we’re ready to continue our story.”
“Oh yes,” said Daph. “We want to know what’s missing.”
Jesse turned his gaze toward the opposite shore. Though the bright,
mirrored waters of this small lake reflected a clear blue sky, Jesse’s
failing vision perceived the low, scudding clouds of a quickly ad-
vancing storm.
“Over there,” he said, stretching out his hand toward the west, “far
beyond the other side of the lake, far beyond the westernmost shore
of our land, on the other side of an ocean or two, is the beach where
Nate and Samantha used to have their Sunday picnics. Just as you
do, they spent them with their grandfather, the same Hank who built
their home. They enjoyed delicious food, glorious picnic lunches
prepared with the utmost love and affection by Harriet, Hank’s beau-
tiful wife. Though Harriet and Hank had not yet been blessed with
an event that would allow them to add the word great before grand-
mother or grandfather, in the eyes of Nate and Samantha they were
the greatest grandparents on earth.
“During these seaside picnics Nate and Samantha spent many hours
combing the sand for exotic treasures. They found sharks’ teeth
and cuttlebones and fishermen’s nets and countless pieces of oddly-
shaped driftwood. They found brightly colored cowry shells and sea
urchin skeletons and spiny starfish and the jawbone of a whale.
“Samantha was mainly attracted to seashells, of which she had a
fantastic collection in all shapes and colors and sizes. Nate, on the
other hand, was on the lookout for the beautiful glass spheres that
fishermen in some countries use to keep their nets floating in the
water. These hollow glass orbs of blue and purple and green most
often washed ashore in the stormy months of what they called the
wet season.
“Hank took great delight in watching his grandchildren search for
 The Ruby Float
these treasures, laughing to himself as they’d scamper across the sand
and leap for joy with each new find. For hours he’d bask like a lion in
the warm sun, inhaling the fragrance of the sea as he listened to the
roar of the waves and the sweet sound of his grandchildren’s voices.
“Toward noon, just about the time the sun was reaching its zenith,
Hank would open the big yellow beach umbrella, lay down a blanket
and spread Harriet’s feast upon it. A moment later the two hungry
treasure seekers would arrive, eager for lunch and a story, especially
one of Hank’s stories about the raft.”
“What raft?” asked Josh, growing more excited.
“Let me revise my statement,” said Jesse. “They weren’t exactly sto-
ries, they were musings, like daydreams. Hank often spoke about
building a raft for the three of them and of sailing it across the ocean.
He’d go into considerable detail in describing his plans for the ex-
pedition. They’d build the raft of logs hewn from special trees that
grew in the forest high in the hills above them. They’d lash these logs
together with rope to form a deck and hull and build a cabin atop
it containing all the comforts of home. They’d fully stock the larder
with goodies prepared by Harriet and bring charcoal, too, and catch
delicious fish and shrimp and squid and roast them over an open fire
as the wind whistled past their ears. The raft would have a beauti-
ful sail that Samantha and Nate would decorate with bright colors.
They’d construct a rudder with which to steer the vessel and bring
along a sextant and star charts and maps of the currents of the world.
They’d sail to distant lands and savor exotic foods and learn of new
customs and bask in the warm rays of the sun.
“Although Hank had never built and sailed an oceangoing raft, he
spoke with such conviction and authority on the subject that the
children were firmly convinced such a trip was possible. In fact, they
so trusted their grandfather that they believed there was nothing in
heaven or on earth he couldn’t do. If he’d talked of building a rocket
ship and flying it to the moon, they’d have begged to come along.
“It’s true that Hank believed you could do almost anything if you set
your mind to it. He gave the children no reason to doubt that they
 Rick Nau
could build a raft together that would take them around the world.
What our adventurers did not realize, however, was that he omitted
a few important details whenever he spoke about the raft, such as the
dangers of traveling across the sea on an untested, self-constructed
vessel. He failed to mention these hazards for the sake of those he
loved. He was not the sort of person who delights in filling you with
hopes and dreams only to dash them to pieces once you begin to
believe in them.
“‘When are we going to build the raft?’ Nate would ask repeatedly.
“‘Soon,’ Hank would answer. ‘When you’re both a little older. You’ll
need your parents’ permission, of course.’
“‘How old?’ asked Nate.
“‘I’ll let you know when you’re ready,’ he said. ‘You’ll have to trust
that Grandpa will know when his crew is old enough to set sail.’
“If the children trusted anyone, they trusted Hank, right down to the
twinkle in his eye. He gave them hope and joy and urged them to
seek after wisdom, telling them of the importance of obeying their
parents and of telling the truth and of doing well in school, prerequi-
sites for the crew members of a worthy and noble craft.
“Then, one day, something didn’t happen.”
“Didn’t happen?” asked Josh.
“That’s right,” replied Jesse. “And what didn’t happen led to some-
thing that did.”
“What was that?” asked Daph.
Jesse fell silent. A light breeze had come up, rustling the graceful
leaves of the willow. The fishing lines bowed slightly and the bob-
bers danced up and down as the bluegills below stole their afternoon
lunch from the ends of Josh and Daph’s hooks.
 Chapter Three

Why Hank Didn’t Come To Breakfast


“It didn’t happen on a Sunday morning. Oh, what a glorious Sunday
morning it was. The sun was shining, casting its warm, bright rays
through the bedroom windows of the children. The birds were sing-
ing and a gentle breeze was rustling the curtains of the open win-
dows. Coffee was brewing and eggs were scrambling and bacon was
popping in the frying pan. Freshly squeezed orange juice was filling
glasses and milk was flowing and clocks were chiming, telling Sa-
mantha and Nate that Hank would soon arrive to have an enormous
breakfast with the entire family, after which he would lead them off
to the beach for another expedition.
“The children crawled out of their sleepy beds, pulled on their beach-
combing clothes, scrubbed their faces, washed their hands and hur-
ried into the kitchen. Never had they missed a Sunday with Hank, so
when the food was set upon the table and their parents were seated
they immediately knew that something was terribly wrong.”
“What was that?” asked Daph.
“Hank was not there,” answered Jesse.
 Rick Nau
“Not there?” asked Josh.
“That’s right. Nor was a place set for him at the kitchen table. Fur-
thermore, when Samantha and Nate looked out the kitchen window,
they saw the small path to their house filled with chirping birds and
glorious sunbeams and insects buzzing to and fro, but they found no
sign of Hank. Even more alarming were the strange, fearful expres-
sions they saw written on their parents’ faces.
“They waited in silence for several minutes—though Nate was certain
it was several hours—not touching their food, not even sipping their
milk, for a Sunday morning without Hank was impossible to imag-
ine. Then Nate bolted through the screen door. Samantha followed,
making it through before the spring could slam it shut. You can be
sure that their parents called after them, setting their eardrums into
mighty vibrations, but their minds were so full of worry and confu-
sion that calling after them was like hollering during a thunderclap.
“Samantha and Nate had never run so fast. It was a good country
mile to their grandparents’ home and if you’d timed our speedsters
with your watches, you’d have found that they covered the distance in
under seven minutes, which is incredibly fast, even for long-legged
adults.
“They found Hank sitting alone on a swing on the front porch of the
small white cottage that he and Harriet called home. Morning glo-
ries shaded the old-fashioned porch, which had a wooden deck and
a white railing around it. The swing was big enough for three and
looked out toward the distant sea. Though Hank’s face was hidden
in the shadows, the darkness did not conceal the fact that this most
cheerful and most enthusiastic of all grandfathers looked greatly
troubled.
“As girls are sometimes better than boys at understanding what can-
not be put into words, Samantha was the first to recognize Hank’s
condition.
“‘Grandpa,’ she said, jumping onto the swing beside him. ‘What’s
wrong?’
 The Ruby Float
“‘Nothing’s wrong with him,’ said Nate. ‘He’s just tired of going to the
beach with us. You can see that.’
“‘No, he’s not. Tell him it isn’t true, Grandpa. It isn’t true, is it?’ she
asked in a pleading voice.
“Hank did his best to pull himself together. ‘No,’ he said, embracing
his grandchildren. ‘It isn’t true.’
“‘You still love us, don’t you, Grandpa? We love you,’ declared Sa-
mantha.
“‘Of course,’ said Hank. ‘I’ll always love you.’
“‘Then why didn’t you come this morning?’ asked Nate.
“Hank struggled to find the right words. He did not know how to be
unhappy around children and believed it his duty as a grandfather to
be joyful and exuberant. Children were allowed to be sad, but only
until they could be cheered up, for Hank believed that they should
be spared troubles and grief. He’d had his own share of troubles and
grief as a young boy, the worst of which was having his heart broken,
and he wasn’t going to let the same thing happen to Sam or Nate.”
“Where did he get that idea?” interrupted Josh.
“From his own life,” said Jesse. “As a young boy Hank was always
having his heart broken. He decided he wasn’t going to let the same
thing happen to Samantha and Nate, not if he could help it.”
“What happened to him?” asked Daph.
“Well,” said Jesse, “it seems that when he was growing up no one
showed him any love. Like an orphan, he had to fend for himself.
He never had the things that you or I had as children. There were
no toys, no trips to the beach, no incredible lunches packed by his
grandmother. There was just one thing—work.”
“Work?” asked Josh.
“Work,” said Jesse. “From the time he was a little tyke, Hank had to
work. He worked in the fields, hoeing and weeding row after endless
 Rick Nau
row of crops. He worked in a factory making mile after mile of baling
wire. He worked on a street corner selling newspaper after newspa-
per. He worked hard at every kind of tough job you can imagine,
hoping that if he was a good boy who worked hard to help support
his family, he could earn the love of his mother and father. It didn’t
seem, however, that he could ever do enough.”
“Didn’t they love him?” asked Daph.
“Oh, they loved him. But they thought it wise to keep their love for
Hank hidden away, deep in the recesses of their hearts, for fear of
spoiling him. What was missing for Hank was something sweet to
balance the toils of life. ”
“That’s terrible,” said Daph.
“Not so terrible as you would think,” replied Jesse, “for when that
sweetness finally came into his life, he knew exactly what he had and
resolved never to let it go.”
“What was that?” asked Daph with an especially keen interest.
“Harriet,” answered Jesse.
“But she must be very old,” interjected Josh.
Jesse leaned forward in the boat and looked with his kind eyes into
the faces of his grandchildren. “Yes, she was old,” he said, “as old
as Hank was and as I and your great grandmother once were and
as both of you will one day be, God willing. Nevertheless, she was
very sweet, as sweet as she was on the day Hank first met her. She
was also extremely beautiful in those days, and if the truth be told,
when Hank first saw her in that beautiful, white flowing dress on that
warm summer day which he shall never forget, she took his breath
completely away. She was so beautiful and so wonderful that Hank
could scarcely believe that the world could contain such a woman,
let alone that such a treasure as she could care for him. Yet she did;
and at first sight. After a few short weeks, against the advice of his
parents and her parents and the mayor and the fire chief and the
other grown men and women of the community that two weeks was
 The Ruby Float
far too short a time, they were married.
“Well, Harriet and Hank proved everyone wrong. On the day Hank
did not come to breakfast they had been married for more than fifty-
two years. Not only this, they were so much in love that you could
not find in their town, or in any other town or city of the world, two
people who loved each other more than they.”
“Wow!” said Daph. “That’s a lot.”
“Yes it is,” said Jesse. “So when Hank received the news, he became
so sick at heart that he could not hide it from Samantha and Nate.”
“What news?” asked Josh.
“Don’t be stupid,” said Daph. Can’t you tell that something’s hap-
pened to Harriet? That’s why Hank’s so depressed.”
“You’re the stupid one!” shouted Josh in return. “I know very well
that something’s happened to Harriet. I just wanted to know what,
that’s all.”
Jesse paused a moment, sensing that his justifiably angry grandson
was doing his best to control his temper.
“As you two have correctly concluded,” he continued, “something
had happened to Harriet.”
 Chapter Four

A Time Of Sadness


“The situation was grave. Harriet’s heart was failing. The doctor told
Hank that he didn’t know how much time Harriet had left, only that
it wouldn’t be too long.
“Hank was devastated. He had known that this day would someday
come, but had always driven the thought from his mind. Instead, he
had replaced it with a dream, the dream that his days with Harriet
would be as countless as the stars. Now he could see that his dream
was only an illusion. Harriet would soon be gone. Once again, just as
it had been when he was a young boy, he would be alone.
“No!” said Daph at a loss for words.
“I’m afraid it’s true,” replied Jesse. “It was a terrible blow to Hank
and Harriet. Neither of them could imagine life without the other.
As for Nate and Samantha, their entire world had been turned up-
side down. Never before had they seen their grandmother so deathly
ill or their grandfather in such a confused and depressed state of
mind. Until now, they had not realized that the joy and exuberance
of their grandparents grew out of their tremendous love for each
other. Though they were too young to comprehend this incredible
 The Ruby Float
love, they had no trouble understanding the sadness that was over-
whelming the lives of their two, dear friends.”
“There must be something they can do,” said Josh.
“That was Nate’s first thought,” said Jesse. He simply refused to be-
lieve that the situation was hopeless. Eleven years of regular expo-
sure to his grandfather’s boundless love, exuberance, imagination,
and encouragement had taught him never to give up hope. There
had to be a way to change the terrible situation, some action that
could be taken to restore joy and happiness to their grandparents’
lives.
“Such things are more easily imagined than done, however. Nate had
never tried to make an unhappy person happy and didn’t have the
faintest idea about where to begin. He first attempted a few of the
things which many people try in similar situations. For instance,
he worked at convincing Hank that Harriet would get better. He
thought that by repeatedly insisting that Hank not lose hope in Har-
riet’s recovery, the problem would be solved, as if by sheer force of
the human will a person could be cured.
“For a while the strategy seemed to work. The real truth, however,
was that Hank, not wanting Nate and Samantha to be sad, pretended
to be hopeful. Though this trick may have fooled Nate, it did not fool
Samantha, who insisted that the happier Hank appeared to be, the
sadder he was, and that the worst thing Nate could do was to try to
give Hank hope when there was none.”
“Did Samantha think it was hopeless?” asked Daph.
“She didn’t,” replied Jesse. “She only meant that it was wrong to give
false hope. Either way, it seemed she was suggesting that her brother
was making a mistake, something that usually precipitated a violent
reaction from him. This time, however, he did not grow angry, but
began to dwell on his sister’s words, so much so that he, like Hank,
sank into a deep depression.”
“How so?” asked Josh.
 Rick Nau
“He couldn’t sleep,” said Jesse. “Very late, in the dead of night, he
began to slip out of the house to be alone with his troubled thoughts.
He would walk through the darkness to the beach and sit in the
moonlight under the stars and watch the waves as they crashed end-
lessly onto the shore. He felt terribly lonely, the way that Hank had
felt as a child, and yearned desperately for a love that could take the
loneliness away.”
“Didn’t his parents love him?” asked Josh.
“And Hank, too?” added Daph.
“Oh yes,” said Jesse. “Nate was loved very much, just as you are. Yet
he was longing for a love much greater than this, a love that he could
not express with words, a love that would bring joy and happiness
to his grandparents and to everyone else he loved, a joy and happi-
ness far beyond anything he could ever hope for, one that would last
forever.”
“He felt all that?” exclaimed Daph.
“Of course he did!” Josh said excitedly.
“I didn’t ask you,” Daph said sharply. “I asked Grandpa.”
“Well,” said Jesse, taking his usual long pause after uttering this oft-
repeated introductory word, “it was only later in his life that Nate
was able to translate this longing into the words we have just heard.”
“Like from another language?” suggested Josh.
“Precisely,” said Jesse. “Right now, he could only think in the lan-
guage of his heart, not of his mind, for he was, after all, just a young
boy. He had not had the practice with words that we adults have,
which might have been a good thing, because if Nate had found the
words he might have asked questions of the wrong people and gotten
the wrong answers. Instead, he kept journeying down to that beach
where he looked at the vastness of the dark heavens and stared into
the moonlit surface of the wide sea and yearned for the fulfillment of
the unspoken desires of his heart.”
 The Ruby Float
+
“It was not until Nate had made thirty lonesome, nocturnal trips that
Samantha discovered him slipping out the window. As many sisters
would, she resolved at once to run to her parents and reveal to them
the strange event which she had witnessed. But at the moment her
fingers touched the knob of their bedroom door, curiosity got the
best of her. She turned and slipped out of Nate’s bedroom window
herself.
“As she tiptoed down the dark path she could see Nate in the dis-
tance. He was clearly discernable in the moonlight and easy to follow
since he was walking so slowly. No other soul was about, not even a
prowling cat.
“When she reached the spot where the path wound through a patch
of woods, it became spooky, the darkness so complete that she could
see nothing. Nevertheless, though she was barefoot and cold, though
her mind was filled with visions of hideous monsters leaping out at
her from the inky void, she kept going, for if there was one thing she
had which was more powerful than fear and curiosity combined, it
was courage.”
“Wow!” said Daph. “That’s a lot of courage.”
“Yes it is,” replied Jesse. “And it must be said that if Samantha had
given up at this point, our story would have turned out differently.
But follow him she did. And when she reached the other end of the
woods she was shivering with cold and fear and had stubbed her
right big toe on a fallen log and was wondering through her pain
why her brother was sitting on the beach, staring off into the black-
ness.
“‘Nathaniel!’ she hollered, approaching him from behind. ‘Whatever
are you doing here?’
“Samantha’s voice, coming out of the quiet, scared Nate half to death.
“‘Sam,’ he exclaimed, ‘what are you doing following me?’
“‘To find out where you are going,’ she answered smartly. ‘Why else
 Rick Nau
would I follow you?’
“‘Well, go home,’ he said. ‘I want to be alone.’
“As you would expect, Samantha had no intention of going back,
certainly not alone through the pitch black woods and certainly not
if commanded to do so by a brother. Instead, she dropped down on
the sand beside him.
“‘Nope,’ she said. ‘I’m not going anywhere till you tell.’
“‘I told you I want to be alone,’ he said. He stood up, walked a dozen
paces and plopped back down on the sand; whereupon Samantha
stood up, traced the same dozen paces, stretching out her legs to fit
her feet into her brother’s footprints, and plopped down beside him.
Nate stood up again, trudged another dozen paces, and sat down
again; whereupon Samantha jumped up, followed Nate’s trail in the
sand, and sat down beside him. This cycle was repeated six times,
causing Nate to cry out in exasperation, ‘Don’t make me crazy!’
“Ordinarily, Samantha would have replied to this with a smart re-
mark, but as Nate was now allowing her to sit beside him, she elected
to keep quiet and exult in the triumph of her persistence. As she
did she took note of how beautiful the sea and the sky and the sand
looked at night. Everything was scintillating in the moonlight. The
waves were glistening and the little grains of sand were sparkling and
the stars were twinkling in the heavens.
“‘It’s so glorious,’ she said, more to herself than to Nate. She did not
notice that his cheeks were also glistening, something which cheeks
don’t ordinarily do except when moistened by perspiration or rain-
drops or teardrops. Instead she saw something small and round
dancing on the waves, something which now and then reflected a
flash of moonlight to her curious eyes.
“‘Look there,’ she said. ‘In the water.’
“Nate saw it too, a small, sparkling object that disappeared and re-
appeared each time it was overtaken by a wave. It was not far from
shore, whatever it was.
 The Ruby Float
“When it reached the first line of breakers, it disappeared into a white
cloud of churning foam. Samantha sprang up and ran to the water’s
edge. In a moment she spotted the object again.
“‘It’s a fisherman’s float,’ she hollered back to Nate.
“Nate did not respond. In his dark state of mind, he’d lost his inter-
est in such silly things. In fact, everything seemed meaningless. He’d
once liked school, but now his grades were falling off a cliff. He’d
once liked to read books about great adventures, like the exciting
stories told by his grandfather, but now such things bored him. He’d
once loved to eat mashed potatoes and gravy, but now everything
was bland. He’d once loved to swim in the ocean and to dive deep
beneath the water to see what was hiding under the rocks, but now
he could care less. He’d once dreamed of faroff places and of places in
the past and of places in the future, but now the dreams were gone.
Everything was now and now and now.
“As Samantha walked back from the water’s edge with the small glass
ball clutched in her hands she was not aware of how her brother
had changed. She was only aware that his eyes were sparkling in the
moonlight. It took her a moment to realize the cause of this. He was
crying.
“Samantha had never witnessed such a scene before, her older
brother crying without being punished. The effect upon her was im-
mediate and spectacular. Her heart, which could be steely at times,
melted in the twinkling of an eye. Dropping to her knees, she threw
her arms around Nate. She said nothing, for the sadness she felt was
overwhelming. A month had passed since they had been hit with the
depressing news about their grandmother. Now, at last, they were
comforting each other as they cried over the hopeless plight of the
two friends whom they loved with all their heart and soul.”
+
Jesse made a noise which sounded to Daph and Josh like a sigh. It
also looked to them as though his cheeks were glistening in the bril-
liant light of the afternoon sun.
 Rick Nau
“Are you all right?” asked Josh.
“Fine,” said Jesse. “Though I could use a nice stretch. Perhaps you
wouldn’t mind if we moved our picnic onto the shore for a while.”
 Chapter Five

The Silhouette

Jesse awoke to the impish stares of his grandchildren. He had taken a

short nap under the great willow tree, usual for a Sunday afternoon,
and was feeling wonderfully fresh and alive.
“You told the rest of the story in your sleep,” said Daph.
She and Josh immediately broke into laughter.
“I did?” asked Jesse.
“Yes,” said Daph, trying her best to keep a straight face.
“Good,” said Jesse. “Then I can go back to sleep.”
He lay back down, closed his eyes and pretended to be slumbering
peacefully. Though Daph and Josh had played this game a thousand
times, they never tired of it.
After thirty seconds, a seeming eternity to our two listeners, Daph
poked Jesse in the stomach, which was of a fairly generous size due
to Grace’s good cooking. “What happens next?” she asked.
Jesse sat up and rested his back against the trunk of the willow. “You
 Rick Nau
want me to go on?”
“Of course we do,” said Josh. “You can’t just leave them stranded
there.”
“Who stranded where?” he asked, pretending to have forgotten the
story.
“Nate and Samantha,” said Daph, again poking Jesse in the stomach.
“On the beach. They were hugging each other.”
Jesse rubbed his eyes and scratched his gray head in several different
areas.
“Yes,” he said, “it is coming back to me now. In fact, while we were
resting they left the beach and walked back home together.”
“While you were sleeping?” asked Daph.
“Yes,” he answered. “They certainly did. And if the truth be told, well,
they felt very close to each other that night, closer than they had ever
felt before.”
+
“The following day was a Sunday, much like the Sundays on which
Hank would come to breakfast. The morning sun was shining
through Samantha’s bedroom window, casting its glorious light
upon the small fisherman’s float she had placed in the center of her
dresser. Though she had never had the same interest in these floats
as Nate, she found this one to be especially attractive. It was much
smaller than the floats in Nate’s collection, no larger than a hen’s egg.
It’s color was also unusual. While Nate’s floats were various shades of
purple and green, this one was deep red, the color of a beautiful ruby.
So deep was its redness that it appeared black to Samantha when
she’d plucked it from the sea. Even now, when viewed from the dis-
tance between her bed and dresser, it looked like a highly polished
black stone.”
“Like those in Grandma’s necklace?” asked Daph.
“Why yes,” said Jesse, “It’s the cross decorated with stones called gar-
 The Ruby Float
nets. If the light is low, the garnets will appear black; but if the light
is very bright and strikes the garnets at just the right angle, the jewels
will suddenly change to a beautiful shade of the deepest red.
“Samantha observed this same phenomenon when she took the float
from her dresser and began to play with it. The hollow, glass orb
felt almost weightless in her small hand, not much heavier than the
empty shell of a hen’s egg, the slight increase in weight being due to
the thickness of the glass. To her eye, it was perfectly smooth and
spherical, not bumpy and irregular like Nate’s floats. And when she
held it up to the bright rays of the sun to behold its breathtakingly
beautiful ruby-red color, she got a tremendous shock.
“‘Oh my!’ she said to herself. ‘What is this?’
“Samantha had never been so excited in her entire life. She bolted
straight into Nate’s bedroom, making such a racket that she scared
him half to death.
“‘Nate! Nate!’ she yelled, tugging on his bed cover. ‘Wake up! Wake
up! Something’s in the float.’
“Nate, who had been soundly sleeping, awoke to the sight of the float
hovering over his nose. It looked to him like a smooth, round, black
egg.
“‘Come outside,’ she said, pulling him by the arm. ‘You can’t see any-
thing in here.’
“The garden was extremely bright, especially for Nate, whose sleepy
eyes had not yet adjusted to the sunlight.
“‘I don’t see a thing,’ he complained, staring blankly at the float.
“‘You’ve got to hold it up to the light,’ instructed Samantha.
“Sure enough, when Nate held the orb between his eyes and the sun,
he saw a dark, squarish silhouette inside.
“‘You’re right,’ he said. Cupping the orb in the palm of his hand, he
let the light fall on the float from above. An object came faintly into
view. ‘It looks like a piece of paper.’
 Rick Nau
“‘Let me see,’ demanded Samantha, most proud of herself for having
made such an exciting find.
“‘Wait,’ snapped Nate, still gazing into the float. ‘I see writing.’
“Moving the orb about in the sunlight he tried to discern the words.
“‘I can’t make them out,’ he continued. ‘We’ll have to break the float.’
“Samantha immediately snatched the orb from his hand.
“‘Don’t you dare,’ she warned. ‘It’s too beautiful to break. Besides, it’s
mine.’
“‘But it might be something important,’ said Nate. ‘A message or
something.’
“‘I don’t care,’ said Samantha. ‘I found it and you didn’t want it, so it’s
mine.’
“Under normal circumstances Nate would have launched into a
convincing argument on exactly why it was urgent that the float be
cracked open immediately. He had read many adventure stories in
which important messages were conveyed on notes sealed in glass
bottles. The messages were usually desperate pleas for help and the
bottles the only possible means of communicating with the outside
world. In this case, however, it was the recipient who was in distress
and he was in no mood to engage in arguments. It is not surpris-
ing, therefore, that Nate gave up without a fight, leaving Samantha to
stew in the heat of the garden.
“‘Have it your way,’ he said, turning and departing. ‘I don’t care about
anything.’
“The sun was warm and radiant upon the flowers and all about was
the buzzing of the bees. But Samantha did not hear the buzzing or
even see the flowers. Instead, she was examining her own heart,
which, for a moment, she was likening unto one of Nate’s fishing
floats—big, but empty. It was an image she did not like. Wanting to
change it immediately, she rushed into Nate’s room where she found
him in bed on his back staring vacantly at the ceiling.
 The Ruby Float
“‘Let’s break it open,’ she said, out of breath with excitement.

“Nate did not move a muscle. He was like a dead man.

“‘Nate?’ asked Samantha, speaking in an imploring tone that would
break even the hardest of hearts.
“Though Nate did not answer, it was obvious to Samantha that he
was alive. His eyes moved ever so slightly, as did his chest when he
breathed.
 Rick Nau
“‘Please don’t be angry with me,’ she begged. ‘I’m ever so sorry. It’s
just that the red float is so beautiful and I have never had such a
beautiful thing before. But I do want to break it open to see what’s
inside. I really do.’
“A quiver went through Nate’s lips, so slight that Samantha thought
she was imagining it. She decided that only a drastic action would
convince her immobile brother of the sincerity of her words. Lifting
the float high above her head, she hurled it to the floor to be shat-
tered into a million pieces, whereupon Nate sprang out of bed and
caught the plunging orb in mid-air.
“‘I’ve got an idea,’ he said.
“Now, if there was a gift that Nate possessed to an unusual degree,
it was ingenuity, not born of genius, but of tenacity, for he was not a
boy who gave up easily when confronted with a problem. He was de-
termined to find a way to read the note without destroying the orb.
“‘It’s all right,’ said Samantha. ‘It really is. Someone could be in great
trouble and in need of being saved. We don’t have the time to try
other things.’
“‘Maybe you’re right,’ answered Nate. ‘But I don’t happen to think
this is that kind of message.’
“‘Why?’ asked Samantha.
“‘Because whoever made this float obviously took a lot of time and
care in doing it. They needed a furnace and glass blowing equipment
and pigments and a lot of other tools and materials. If they were in
distress, they’d just stuff a note in a bottle and drop it into the water.’
“‘Then what kind of message could it be?’ asked Samantha.
“‘Something important,’ replied Nate, ever so solemnly. ‘Something
very important.’
“‘Oh!’ exclaimed Samantha, beside herself with excitement. ‘Let’s do
break it open. I can’t wait to find out what it says.’”
Order your copy of The Kindle Edition of The Ruby Float at

To see other great stories, set your sails for

DancingPenBooks.com
Your Friends,

Daph & Josh