Saturday, February 18, 2023

Willow House Chapter 18


To begin at chapter one click here

 Scariest. Storm. Ever.



     Once the glass door is closed behind us, I feel immediately better. Looking through the walls to the outside, I can see that the dark clouds mean serious business. It looks like nighttime out there. The wind is whipping the wildflowers all over the place like it has anger issues.

     Theres a light switch right inside the front door. I flip it, and not only the chandelier lights up, but also some old fashioned light posts scattered around that I hadnt paid any attention to before. They give the place a warm, cozy feeling. I take a couple of deep breaths and start to calm down.

     I look up to the chandelier. Its prettier, all lit up, than I even imagined it would be. The black iron leaves that hang down have small crystals that cling to the edges and, with the electric candles shining through, they look like dew drops.

     Tommy reaches for my hand and tugs me around the corner and down to the little bridge that crosses over the stream. Maybe he wants another shot at communicating with the fish. 

     He sits down on a rock at the edge of the water and starts to take off his shoes. Mrs. H. told us to stay away from the water, but Im pretty sure she meant no swimming in the pond. I take off my own shoes and hang my feet down into the stream. The water is freezing! But, the greenhouse, which had been warmed by the sun all morning (until the sun disappeared from the universe) feels pretty toasty. The combination is blissful.

     “Ahhhhhh. Isnt this nice?” I say to Tommy.

     “Nice,” Tommy repeats. 

     I hear a bird chirping. Hubert! I had almost forgotten about Hubert! I want so much to see him before I leave today. His chirping gets a little louder and closer. Hes actually coming to talk to us! Yay!

     “Today!” Tommy says with glee. He stands up on the bank.

     “Yes, Tommy. Today!” I laugh and stand beside him looking through the plant life for a glimpse of the bird.

     I lean down and give Tommy a kiss on top of his sweet, little head and catch a glimpse of movement in the water. Theres something in the stream swimming toward us. Something larger than a goldfish. Something that looks like that girl in the boat. I can’t move. Hubert swoops down on me. I think hes angry. Hes squawking and carrying on, and theres this thing in the water, and Im panicking. 

     Tommy runs after Hubert, back up onto the bridge and away from the stream. I realize that Hubert is trying to help. Hes warning us! Tommy is chasing him back to the entrance so that I dont have to pull or carry my little brother along. Tommy is laughing like its some kind of game. I come to my senses and race after them.

     We reach the entryway and are crossing under the chandelier, when the door swings in with a violent crash. The lights go out. There’s a roll of thunder, and a bolt of lightning. Its just like a corny, horror movie. Only this is real! Im going to faint.

     Mrs. Hallovich stands, silhouetted in the doorway.

     “Come along children!” she shouts over the wind. “Theres a wicked storm brewing. I want you back at the house before the rain comes!”

     She doesnt have to ask me twice.

     She scoops Tommy up and hustles us back through the clearing. I get a spray of water in my face as the wind blows across the fountain. Oh my gosh! The fountain picked a fine time to start working! We make it up the back steps of Willow House, just as the sky lets loose in a downpour. 

     “My mom said it was supposed to be sunny today,” I say. I guess I’m trying to make normal conversation. Im more than a little upset.

     “Were you down by the pond?” Mrs. H. asks. 

     I think this is a strange question in response to my weather comment.

     She has guided us into the warm kitchen, where a hot lunch is laid out on the picnic table. She doesnt seem angry, just concerned.

     “I had to go after Tommy. He chased a butterfly down there.”

     She gets a good look at my face. “Oh my Dear! Whatever happened? You’re bleeding.”

     Oh yeah. I remember the willow whipping me across the face. I’m not sure how much to say. Im afraid to tell her about the girl in the boat for some reason. I think I trust her, but Im so confused about everything right now. I cant think straight. “I ran into a willow branch,” I say. 

     She kneels in front of me, gently cleaning the scratch, as Tommy, in his highchair beside us, digs into his lunch.

     “That’s an odd thing to do.” She’s searching my face, fishing for the truth. Since she can read my mind so well, I don’t say anything more. I just wait for her to absorb the whole story. When she doesn’t say anything else, I start to get uncomfortable. 

     “Those trees sure are big,” I say.

     “Theyve been there a long time,” she says. Did you get in the water?”

     “No!” I practically shout, feeling my eyes bulge. This startles her.

     “I mean . . . no. We didnt get in the water.”

     She relaxes a bit. Good.”

     She plops Tommy up in the highchair and notices hes barefoot. She looks under the table at my feet. Where are your shoes?”

     “I forgot them in the greenhouse. Theyre at the bottom of the bridge by the stream.”

     “So, you were in the water?”

     “We just put our feet in the stream inside the greenhouse.” I dont like feeling like I disobeyed her. We didnt swim,” I continue.

     Mrs. H. makes a good effort at a smile. Its probably best if you two stay out of the water entirely.”

     “Why?” I dont like the way that sounded as soon as its out of my mouth, but Mrs. H. has to agree that it is a simple and understandable question.

     “As I said before, the water in the greenhouse is fed by the stream and the pond. It is very cold. I wouldnt want either of you coming down with something to ruin your summer.”

     Fair enough. It had been very cold, and maybe that was her truthful answer. Maybe.

     I am just glad to be here in the kitchen, with her, as the storm wears itself out. Eventually, the thunder quiets, and the sky begins to brighten. By the time we are finished eating lunch, it’s like the storm never happened at all.

     “Who wants dessert?” Mrs. H. asks.


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