and Damien leaned in closer to Chase as they listened.
“There are others who live there, but they are not ghosts and ghouls.”
“Then who are they?” asked Damien.
Graham nudged Damien with his elbow. “Let him finish.”
“Let me put it this way. There are two types of people in this world. Those who accept who they truly are, and those who choose to remain ignorant by ignoring their gifts. I know that sounds a bit ridiculous right now, but if you choose accept my invitation, then you will find out how true that statement is.”
“What invitation?” Graham asked.
“An invitation to find out who you really are,” said Chase. “Once every two years, we have an invitation for people like you who we see as unique .”
“You mean broken,” said Graham, not sure if he liked the way this conversation was going.
“Define it how you want, Graham, but I mean unique more in terms of being ‘ set apart ,’ than I do ‘ cast aside .’ You are not broken. You just can’t yet explain what is happening inside. Regardless of the definition, it is your choice. I hate to be vague and cryptic, but unfortunately, I must. If you choose to accept, then we will be at Portfield Manor tomorrow night at 3 am.”
Because they were behind the final building of Wellington, Chase could easily point down the road to a clearing in the trees. Chase looked at Damien, then turned to Graham.
“Portfield Manor is a few miles from here. Since you are a pro at navigating the woods between here and Greenwood, I have full faith that you will be able to make it to the Manor on time. You want answers? You will find them there.”
With that said, Chase ran off down the road in a blur, leaving Graham and Damien in a wake of dust.
“Well that was dramatic,” said Damien in a monotone remark. “What do you think? Personally, it sounds a little hoaky to me. And why three in the morning? What the heck?”
“Maybe, but if this is my chance, then I’m taking it. You do what you want,” replied Graham. “That is, if we make it back to Greenwood without being questioned about our afternoon. Ms. Winstone has already told me not to come back here. If she knows I have disobeyed her, I may not live to make it to Portfield Manor.”
Graham and Damien turned around and began to walk back towards Building 14, where they would make their way back through the woods, then to Greenwood. They both breathed a sigh of relief as they saw that most of the kids were still out on the playing fields.
“I think we are good,” said Graham. Just then, the gongs of the grandfather clocks could be heard from inside, instructing the kids to come back for study time, then dinner.
“Wow, we couldn’t have timed that any better,” said Damien.
High up on the 3 rd floor, Ms. Winstone stood at the window with a cup of tea in her hand, bringing it to her lips for a sip as she watched Graham and Damien emerge from the woods, walking over to mingle in with the other children.
C HAPTER S EVEN
The Pathway to Freedom
Disregarding all pleasantries, Ms. Winstone looked sternly into Graham’s eyes. Whatever was on her mind immediately escaped her mouth like a bird from an open cage.
“I thought I told you not to go back into the woods. Now you’ve drug Damien into it.”
Without hesitation, Damien spoke.
“Graham was showing me his favorite places there. I asked him to. He told me about them yesterday, and I practically begged him to let me go see it. Please don’t blame him. It was my idea, Ms. Winstone.”
Taking Damien’s story into consideration, she thought for a moment. The boys caught a quick glance at each other hoping that this would be the end of it. Ms. Winstone studied the two of them for a while longer, trying to decipher truth from fiction. After a moments pause, she decided another question was more important.
“There are others who live there, but they are not ghosts and ghouls.”
“Then who are they?” asked Damien.
Graham nudged Damien with his elbow. “Let him finish.”
“Let me put it this way. There are two types of people in this world. Those who accept who they truly are, and those who choose to remain ignorant by ignoring their gifts. I know that sounds a bit ridiculous right now, but if you choose accept my invitation, then you will find out how true that statement is.”
“What invitation?” Graham asked.
“An invitation to find out who you really are,” said Chase. “Once every two years, we have an invitation for people like you who we see as unique .”
“You mean broken,” said Graham, not sure if he liked the way this conversation was going.
“Define it how you want, Graham, but I mean unique more in terms of being ‘ set apart ,’ than I do ‘ cast aside .’ You are not broken. You just can’t yet explain what is happening inside. Regardless of the definition, it is your choice. I hate to be vague and cryptic, but unfortunately, I must. If you choose to accept, then we will be at Portfield Manor tomorrow night at 3 am.”
Because they were behind the final building of Wellington, Chase could easily point down the road to a clearing in the trees. Chase looked at Damien, then turned to Graham.
“Portfield Manor is a few miles from here. Since you are a pro at navigating the woods between here and Greenwood, I have full faith that you will be able to make it to the Manor on time. You want answers? You will find them there.”
With that said, Chase ran off down the road in a blur, leaving Graham and Damien in a wake of dust.
“Well that was dramatic,” said Damien in a monotone remark. “What do you think? Personally, it sounds a little hoaky to me. And why three in the morning? What the heck?”
“Maybe, but if this is my chance, then I’m taking it. You do what you want,” replied Graham. “That is, if we make it back to Greenwood without being questioned about our afternoon. Ms. Winstone has already told me not to come back here. If she knows I have disobeyed her, I may not live to make it to Portfield Manor.”
Graham and Damien turned around and began to walk back towards Building 14, where they would make their way back through the woods, then to Greenwood. They both breathed a sigh of relief as they saw that most of the kids were still out on the playing fields.
“I think we are good,” said Graham. Just then, the gongs of the grandfather clocks could be heard from inside, instructing the kids to come back for study time, then dinner.
“Wow, we couldn’t have timed that any better,” said Damien.
High up on the 3 rd floor, Ms. Winstone stood at the window with a cup of tea in her hand, bringing it to her lips for a sip as she watched Graham and Damien emerge from the woods, walking over to mingle in with the other children.
C HAPTER S EVEN
The Pathway to Freedom
Disregarding all pleasantries, Ms. Winstone looked sternly into Graham’s eyes. Whatever was on her mind immediately escaped her mouth like a bird from an open cage.
“I thought I told you not to go back into the woods. Now you’ve drug Damien into it.”
Without hesitation, Damien spoke.
“Graham was showing me his favorite places there. I asked him to. He told me about them yesterday, and I practically begged him to let me go see it. Please don’t blame him. It was my idea, Ms. Winstone.”
Taking Damien’s story into consideration, she thought for a moment. The boys caught a quick glance at each other hoping that this would be the end of it. Ms. Winstone studied the two of them for a while longer, trying to decipher truth from fiction. After a moments pause, she decided another question was more important.
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