Scattered Leaves (Early Spring 2) - Page 5

I gazed at the limousine. To me it looked like I was about to enter a dark cave, but I walked ahead and never looked back. I crawled in, sliding way over on the right side and pressing myself against the corner as if there had hardly been any room. Felix closed the door. I glanced back at the front of the mansion as he got in. In my imagi

nation Ian was standing there, watching, waiting to wave good-bye, his gaze firm, his eyes betraying no tears.

"Here we go," Felix said, then he started the engine and drove down the long driveway,

The silence that followed made me shiver. Ian was so correct in my imaginary analysis. I would never feel as alone as I did at this moment. I remembered when my mother and I were once in a crowd after a movie and my hand slipped out of hers. Someone behind me moved me ahead and someone else moved me to the right. I was terrified, but my mother was there quickly, seizing my hand again.

She wasn't here now. Would she ever be again' ?

The limousine turned and we headed off, my short life at the grand house trailing behind me in memories made of smoke, disappearing like the car's exhaust, unseen and gone so quickly that it made me wonder if any of it ever had happened.

"It's nice where you're going,' Felix offered. trying. I suspected, to cheer me up. As when he spoke to my grandmother, he didn't look back.

I used to think it looked like he was talking to himself. It had to be hard never to be able to look at the people to whom you spoke. Ian imagined that he had turned his head when he first started as

Grandmother Emma's chauffeur.

"She probably snapped so sharply at him to keep his eyes on the road," he told me. "that he felt the bite on the back of his neck forever.'

"I haven't been out there in some time, but I do remember it being a pretty home," Felix added.

"It's a farm, right?"

"Well, it was a farm." Felix said. "They keep a home garden going, but it's not a commercial farm. They don't raise crops to sell. I remember a large pond on the property. Cows used to drink from it back when they had cows."

"Are there any animals there now?"

"Some chickens, I think. You'll have fresh eggs all the time." he added.

I couldn't really see his face in the rearview mirror well, but I felt he was smiling. It occurred to me that Felix was the only one I knew now who wasn't a total stranger. It didn't do any good to be related to someone if you had never met them. My great-aunt Frances would still be a stranger to me. Despite what my grandmother told me in the hospital when I went to see her for the last time. I was afraid Great-aunt Frances wouldn't like me. Maybe she would be very mean to me. Maybe she hated the idea of having to take a young girl into her home to live with her. After all, as far as I knew, she hadn't asked for me to came live with her, Grandmother Emma had just told her it would be so. She could give everyone in the family orders through Mr. Pond, her attorney, even now, even though she couldn't speak well.

But she did assure me that last day in the hospital that her sister would never hate me. She said something even more mysterious to me as well. She said she needed me. How could a woman as old as Great-aunt Frances need a girl my age, especially one who was like me with all my added problems?

Did she need someone to help on the farm even though they didn't sell crops? Would I gather eggs? Would I plant vegetables? Pick wild berries for jams? I had been imagining all those things as this day had drawn closer and closer.

I wondered if Felix really meant it when he made it sound as if he liked Great-aunt Frances's home so much. Maybe he didn't like living in a city.

"Where did you grow up. Felix?"

"Me? Oh, a little town just outside of Philadelphia."

"On a farm?"

"No. My father had a hardware store."

"Did you go to college?"

"No. I was in the army for a few years and through a friend. I met your grandfather and he hired me to be his driver after only an hour or so. He was like that, you know."

"Like what. Felix?"

"He could look at someone and pretty much decide about him or her quickly, and he was unafraid of acting on his impressions. Very decisive man. You know what that means?"

"No."

"He was very self-assured, very confident of himself, never worried about his decisions, no matter how quickly he made them. Sometimes, your brother reminds me of him. Reminded me, I should say."

"Really?"

Tags: V.C. Andrews Early Spring Horror
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