.

For me that was an understatement. I couldn't

even conceive of how hard it actually would be. It hit me when I went to my room and started to unpack my cartons of dolls and souvenirs. Each one stung me harder than the previous. In the end I decided to leave them all in the cartons and keep them in the closet.

"Why aren't you putting your things out and dressing up your room. honey?" Mommy asked after she came to my doorway to see how I was doing.

"I can't," I told her. "Maybe later." She just nodded and walked away.

We spent the next few days learning about the area. where to shop for this or that. Dallas was a great help, advising about the best stores and setting us up with a doctor and a dentist.

"They all claim they're not taking new patients, so someone they have has to recommend. It's another scam, if you ask me, making you grateful you're giving them your business," Dallas told us.

The more time I spent with her, the more I liked her. Phoebe hadn't called me yet, and she was annoyed about it.

That girl is so absent-minded." she told us. but I suspected it was more than just a matter of

forgetfulness. It was more that she didn't want to be bothered with a younger girl. I did finally_ overhear Dallas tell Mommy that "the girl is just selfish, and Warren puts up with it. He's simply blind when it comes to her and her faults. He carries some unreasonable guilt for Petula's motorcycle death."

Thinking about forgetfulness. I figured that was the reason I still had not heard from Trent. The day after we had moved in I called to let him know where I was and how to reach me. He was already off to his summer baseball

camp. His mother answered the phone, and after I explained who I was and what I wanted, she said she would give him the message. Since I hadn't heard from him and it was nearly a week after I had called. I assumed she had forgotten to tell him. Of course. it also occurred to me that she didn't want to tell him. However. I thought he was sure to ask because I had told him I would call. I waited another day and called again, this time getting an answering machine. I left the same message.

Even with all the time Mommy and I spent together those first few days. I still had time to myself and wandered down to the pond occasionally, curious about whether or not I would meet Augustus Brewster again. Despite his weirdness. I couldn't help but be interested in him. I brought bread crumbs for Quackie and Queenie. but Augustus didn't appear. I began to wonder if he even really lived there.

And then finally one day when I looked out toward the pond. I saw him sitting with his legs crossed, his arms hanging limply at his sides, facing the water. Intrigued. I left the house and approached him. I heard what I thought was him sounding a deep, low note. It sounded like "O000mmmaim." I stepped up beside him and saw he was indeed making that sound. His eyes were open, but he looked as if he couldn't see anything, almost as if he was blind.

"Hi," I said.

He stopped making the sound, but he didn't turn to me for a long moment. Then he tightened his arms and turned slowly toward me. He didn't speak.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I was in meditation, plugging into the great unknown. The ducks tell me you've been feeding them often."

"The ducks speak to you?"

"Of course. Everything speaks to me when I'm plugged into the great unknown. We're all one, all in the same vast spiritual sea!" he declared with such emphasis the veins in his neck strained against his skin.

"Where have you been?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"Here."

"I haven't seen you." I said.

"That's because you're blind. Don't worry. Most people, nearly all people, matter of fact, are blind."

'You're weird." I told him. and turned to walk away.

He jumped up and seized me by the elbow, "Why? Because I talk about things that are strange and new to you? If you're afraid of what you don't know, you'll remain ignorant."

"I'm not afraid of what I don't know. I just know you're very weird."

"Okay," he said, embracing himself. "Define weird.- "You said you talk to the ducks and they talk to you."

"They speak to me in their way. Everything speaks to everything else in its way. You just have to learn how to listen and understand. Don't the trees tell us when the weather will change? Don't birds tell us when it's going to get colder? Doesn't the sea tell us when it's going to be rough? Doesn't a house tell us when it's about to topple or food tell us when it's spoiled? Well?"

"I suppose, if you think of things that way, that's true," I admitted.

Tags: V.C. Andrews De Beers Horror
Source: readsnovelonline.net