Twisted Roots (DeBeers 3)

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I had never felt as last and alone as I did at that

moment. And disappointed in someone. too! How could Heyden do this? How could he be so angry and selfish?

Chubs stood there staring at me. "What'cha gain' to do, miss?" he asked when I told him what I now believed,

"I don't know," I wailed, sucked back my tears, and looked down the long driveway. A part of me wanted to just run, run until I fell with exhaustion. A part of me wanted to sob and sob and sob. I bounced from fear to self-pity to anger, and then to a terrible sense of defeat that left me feeling weak and helpless. Chubs saw it all in my face. I think. He looked almost as upset as I did.

"Well. I'm almost finished here." he said. "In a little while, you can start out whenever you like."

"Start out?"

How? I thought. Where to? And who would drive this thing. me? Should I depend on Uncle Linden? It'd been years and years since he drove a car, much less something like this. We could get ourselves into even more trouble if we went back on the road,

"Rosemary!" Bess called again and waved harder, beckoning me.

Bring this all to an end, a voice inside was screaming at me. Stop it before it goes another step further,

Uncle Linden paused and turned my way, too. He raised his arms to ask what's going on?

I didn't know what to do. I started toward them, my mind reeling as it would had I just been spun around and around on a Ferris wheel.

"Oh, don't look so sad. Rosemary. We're not going to be sitting here much longer, are we, Linden?"

"Ten, fifteen minutes more is all I need. I have down what I want." he said.

I looked at him. I had to make him stop, make him understand.

"Heyden's gone," I said softly, hoping not only that Bess wouldn't hear, but more important, that she wouldn't hear the panic in my voice, which might set off her own,

"Gone?"

"He's run off, taken his things and run off."

Uncle Linden blinked his eyes rapidly. I could almost see reality seeping in under this wonderful day of illusion. He glanced at Bess and then turned back to me.

"Gone?" he asked, either failing to understand or refusing to understand.

"Yes." I said. "He took his guitar and his things and he left."

"But..." Uncle Linden looked at the motor home, "It's being repaired, isn't it?"

"It's almost done."

"Then... why did he leave?"

"I told him I wanted to return," I said "I told him I thought we should go home."

"Oh."

He looked at Bess. who was sitting back now, bathing her face in the sunlight.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Linden." I said. "We haven't much choice now. We've got to get back."

He nodded, "Let's just finish here," he said and nodded at the rock. "Just a little longer."

Why? I wanted to ask, but seeing how he looked at Bess and how innocent and vulnerable she appeared. I understood, This was something he had to do: this was a gift he had to give.