keeping me silent.
“Know
what
?” I asked loudly. “What are you two talking about?”
But they both continued to ignore me.
“Do you mind telling me how it happened?” Gran asked, her eyes still locked on Lucas. “And when?”
“This past June,” Lucas answered gravely. “At the hospital.”
“Ahhh,” Gran smiled knowingly. “I
was
worried about that. I should have been more careful—my first lapse in eleven years.”
My head was spinning. June. I had started getting these horrible, sharp stomach pains and Gran had had to rush me to the hospital in the middle of the night to get my appendix taken out. That had been the first time since I got my driver’s license that I’d been in the passenger seat of Gran’s car.
“It wasn’t a total lapse,” Lucas’s voice shook me out of my thoughts. “Only you were seen.”
Gran froze. For a moment, she appeared totally unable to speak. Then she drew a deep breath. “I take it then, since you seem to have found her anyway, that she—”
“Yes,” Lucas said plainly.
Gran lowered her head for a moment. When she raised her chin back up, I could have sworn there were tears in her eyes. “Well then,” she said, and shook her head slightly. “That’s strange, I thought I would be . . . Well, there you go, I suppose.” Her expression tightened, and when she looked at Lucas again, it was with fear. “Do the Others know?”
Something about the way she’d said the name capitalized it inside my head, even back then, when I had no notion of what she was talking about.
“We don’t think so.”
Gran let out a sigh of relief.
“Hello?” I waved my hands in the air. “Did I suddenly disappear or something?”
Gran finally looked over at me. “Something like that, yes. Only not just now. You disappeared eleven years ago, Addy. And I was the one who took you.”
——
Lucas looked suddenly uncomfortable.
“I should. Um . . .”
He made a move to get up, but Gran stopped him with an outstretched hand and got to her feet instead. She walked slowly to the bookcase in the corner of the living room. Shestood before it for some time before reaching out and extracting a thin, leather volume.
When she came back over to us, she took the chair beside mine and opened the book so it was half in my lap, half in hers. She turned to Lucas. “You’re welcome to stay, so long as you do not interrupt. This is my story to tell, Guardian.”
Lucas nodded solemnly, picked up his tea, and settled back comfortably in his chair, across the table from us.
Rather than follow up on the strange name she’d just called Lucas, because that would inevitably cause me to begin pondering just what he was doing sitting at my dining room table, I looked down at the open photo album.
The picture Gran had opened to was familiar to me.
“This is you, with your mother and father,” she told me unnecessarily, as she’d shown me this picture many times over the years. I’d been about six months old when it was taken; I was sitting up, rather unsteadily, in the middle of a yellow checkered-pattern blanket. The first tufts of my strawberry blonde hair stuck out crazily in every direction. My parents posed on either side of me, each holding a supportive hand behind my back.
My mother had been freckled, just like me, but her hair had been a much deeper shade of red. My father had had very light blonde hair and his nose had been slightly too pointy, just like mine.
“And this,” Gran continued, flipping a few pages forward until she came to another picture that I had seen before, “is your grandmother.”
I looked down at the woman in the picture; the photo was old, so the colors were less than vivid, but it was still easy to tell she had flaming red hair, much darker than mine but exactly the same shade as my mother’s. I wondered why the similarity had never occurred to me before. I remember always thinking that the woman in this picture, who Gran had always described
“Know
what
?” I asked loudly. “What are you two talking about?”
But they both continued to ignore me.
“Do you mind telling me how it happened?” Gran asked, her eyes still locked on Lucas. “And when?”
“This past June,” Lucas answered gravely. “At the hospital.”
“Ahhh,” Gran smiled knowingly. “I
was
worried about that. I should have been more careful—my first lapse in eleven years.”
My head was spinning. June. I had started getting these horrible, sharp stomach pains and Gran had had to rush me to the hospital in the middle of the night to get my appendix taken out. That had been the first time since I got my driver’s license that I’d been in the passenger seat of Gran’s car.
“It wasn’t a total lapse,” Lucas’s voice shook me out of my thoughts. “Only you were seen.”
Gran froze. For a moment, she appeared totally unable to speak. Then she drew a deep breath. “I take it then, since you seem to have found her anyway, that she—”
“Yes,” Lucas said plainly.
Gran lowered her head for a moment. When she raised her chin back up, I could have sworn there were tears in her eyes. “Well then,” she said, and shook her head slightly. “That’s strange, I thought I would be . . . Well, there you go, I suppose.” Her expression tightened, and when she looked at Lucas again, it was with fear. “Do the Others know?”
Something about the way she’d said the name capitalized it inside my head, even back then, when I had no notion of what she was talking about.
“We don’t think so.”
Gran let out a sigh of relief.
“Hello?” I waved my hands in the air. “Did I suddenly disappear or something?”
Gran finally looked over at me. “Something like that, yes. Only not just now. You disappeared eleven years ago, Addy. And I was the one who took you.”
——
Lucas looked suddenly uncomfortable.
“I should. Um . . .”
He made a move to get up, but Gran stopped him with an outstretched hand and got to her feet instead. She walked slowly to the bookcase in the corner of the living room. Shestood before it for some time before reaching out and extracting a thin, leather volume.
When she came back over to us, she took the chair beside mine and opened the book so it was half in my lap, half in hers. She turned to Lucas. “You’re welcome to stay, so long as you do not interrupt. This is my story to tell, Guardian.”
Lucas nodded solemnly, picked up his tea, and settled back comfortably in his chair, across the table from us.
Rather than follow up on the strange name she’d just called Lucas, because that would inevitably cause me to begin pondering just what he was doing sitting at my dining room table, I looked down at the open photo album.
The picture Gran had opened to was familiar to me.
“This is you, with your mother and father,” she told me unnecessarily, as she’d shown me this picture many times over the years. I’d been about six months old when it was taken; I was sitting up, rather unsteadily, in the middle of a yellow checkered-pattern blanket. The first tufts of my strawberry blonde hair stuck out crazily in every direction. My parents posed on either side of me, each holding a supportive hand behind my back.
My mother had been freckled, just like me, but her hair had been a much deeper shade of red. My father had had very light blonde hair and his nose had been slightly too pointy, just like mine.
“And this,” Gran continued, flipping a few pages forward until she came to another picture that I had seen before, “is your grandmother.”
I looked down at the woman in the picture; the photo was old, so the colors were less than vivid, but it was still easy to tell she had flaming red hair, much darker than mine but exactly the same shade as my mother’s. I wondered why the similarity had never occurred to me before. I remember always thinking that the woman in this picture, who Gran had always described
Similar Books
