Receive Me Falling by Erika Robuck Page B

way, than to be thought
wise on the other tack.

 
                Suddenly, a shell fragment flew
through the window, missing Meg’s face by inches.   She ran to the window to locate the
perpetrator, and nearly scared a boy of about twelve to death.
                “Are you a ghost?” he asked.
                “No, are you?”
                The boy laughed.   His white teeth flashed in the sun against
his black skin.     
                “I’m Hamilton”
                “Like Alexander?”
                “Yes.   Who are you?”
                “Meg.”
                “You know that place is haunted.”
                Meg smiled and rolled her eyes.   “I’ve heard.”
                Hamilton ran his toes over the shells.   His feet were bare.   He wore tan shorts and no shirt.   He was slender in frame, but appeared robust,
active, and strong.   His confident
demeanor was one that adults warmed to and children would follow.   He had a kind and familiar way of
speaking—one that instantly made others feel at ease.  
                A distant rumble of thunder caused
Meg to place the music book and pamphlet in her bag and leave the house.   She pulled the door closed behind her and walked
down the stairs to join Hamilton.
                “Do you often come here to vandalize
the house?” teased Meg as they started wondering along the drive.
                “Not usually, but I thought I saw a
ghost in the window.”
                “So you threw a shell at it?”
                “A silly choice of weapon, I
know.   But it was all I could come up
with.”
                They turned off the drive onto an
overgrown path that led around the west side of the house.
                “So where do you live?” asked Meg.
                “Just up the road.   My dad says I shouldn’t play here—it’s
trespassing.   But I like to spend time in
the lagoon.   I don’t think the owners
have ever been here before, anyway.”
                “I’m here now.”
                Hamilton looked worried and stopped walking.
                “Don’t worry, I don’t mind you
playing here—as long as you stay away from the ghosts, that is.”
                Hamilton smiled.
                “Why did you wait so long to come
here?” he asked.
                Meg couldn’t explain why she felt so
comfortable talking to this young stranger, but for some reason it felt
natural.
                “I didn’t even know I owned it until
a few days ago,” she said.   “My parents
recently died, and I was their only child.   I found an old picture of the plantation home in my father’s office,
along with some documents relating to things I’ve inherited.   I guess I’ve come here to decide what to do
with the land, and my life.”
                “I’m sorry about your parents.   I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
                Meg looked at Hamilton.   He seemed so grown up.   In some
ways she felt like she was speaking to another adult, yet his candor and
openness were typical of a child.
                “Me too.”
                The wind which had been building,
called attention to the approaching storm.  
                “I’d better get going,” said Hamilton.   “You should too, if you don’t want to get
caught in the storm.   They are quick and
fierce in the Islands.”
                “Thanks.   It was good to meet you.   Feel free to play in the lagoon anytime.”
                Hamilton smiled and disappeared down the
path.   Meg watched after him, and then
made her way back along the drive.

 

 
    Half-way
to the villa the downpour began.   It came
from out of