Hipp leaned back in his chair and recited: “‘And Cain went out from the presence of the Lord and dwelt in the land of Nod, on the east of Eden.’ Genesis four, verse sixteen.”
“I figured you’d come up with something a little off the wall,” Fritz said.
“Such flattery,” Hipp replied.
“What do you make of it?”
“Read all of chapter four—hell, read all of Genesis. Run Abel against it, run Enoch.”
“Who is Enoch?”
“The son of Cain.”
“I wasn’t raised religious,” Fritz said.
“Then you are at a disadvantage in the world,” Hipp said. “Reading assignment for you: the King James Bible.”
“The whole thing?”
“Be good for you. It’s the basis of so much of the Christian world, and the translation is very beautiful.”
“I know about Cain and Abel,” Fritz said. “I read Steinbeck’s novel East of Eden.”
“Maybe that’s the reference, instead of Genesis. Run names from that, too, Cal’s brother, father, and mother. Cast a wide net.”
“Okay,” Fritz said, rising to go.
“Wait a minute,” Hipp said.
Fritz sat down again.
“Give me a minute,” Hipp said. He stared dreamily out the window, then he began to recite:
“Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night
Sailed off in a wooden shoe—
Sailed on a river of crystal light,
Into a sea of dew.
‘Where are you going, and what do you wish,’
The old moon asked the three.
‘We have come to fish for the herring fish
That live in this beautiful sea;
Nets of silver and gold have we!’
Said Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.”
Hipp raised his eyebrows and looked at Fritz questioningly.