The House Named Claurece

Two

              𝕻aul revolved on the spot, taking in the scene around him. It was beautiful, so much different from the world Paul had grown up in. He took in the trees with their brown, hard bark and green, fragile leaves, and the white cotton candy clouds drifting lazily in the sky. He saw birds flying past, cawing loudly to one another. A few feet away there was a patch of small, bright yellow flowers. Paul squatted down to look at them more closely. They looked so fragile and delicate.

            "You're new here."

             Paul jumped.

            "We haven't had visitors in ages,"

             Paul turned to see a little girl with blonde hair and bright green eyes standing behind him.

            "I'm Penelope, I live in the orphanage up the way,"

            The girl – Penelope – pointed north.

            "Please don't run away."

            "Why would I run away?" asked Paul, standing up.

            "Most people run when they find out I'm from the orphanage." Penelope said.

            "Well, like you said, I'm new here," Paul said. "I don't know much about this place."

            "Well, it's good that you didn't run," said Penelope. "I like meeting new people."

            "Me too."

             The girl smiled and Paul smiled back.

             "I've told you my name, now you tell me yours." Penelope said.

             "I'm Paul,"

             "PENELOPE!"

             Penelope jumped, possibly higher than Paul had when she snuck up on him.

             "GET OVER HERE! WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT LEAVING CLAURECE'S GROUNDS!"

             "Bye," said Penelope before she ran off, looking shaken.

              Paul watched her go. She went to Claurece. The orphanage. I wonder if she meet Runcorn. Paul turned around. The wind picked up but it wasn't the cold wind he was used to, it was warm and friendly. Runcorn could have stood here all those months ago. Paul looked down at his hands. The grass underneath them seemed unreal. Everything here seemed unreal.

            𝕻aul looked through the trees at the brick, multistoried building. It was sitting on a cliff, about a half a mile off of what Paul found out to be the coast of Fort Bragg, California. He had slipped through the ivy encrusted front gates and slipped into the little clump of trees near the orphanage. What was he supposed to do now? Wait? That sounds pretty good. Paul thought. I can learn a bit more about Claurece's inhabitants just by watching. And so he waited. And waited.

            After about an hour, the orphanage showed the first sign of movement. Someone exited the  house, followed by a couple children. The adult was a tired looking man with light brown hair and looked like he'd stayed up all night for at least a week. He probably has, thought Paul, with all those kids running around. Paul watched them pass his hiding spot. Partially. They stopped about fifty meters from where Paul stood, holding his breath and watching.

           "Archie," the man said softly. "Can you check the trees for me?"

           As if in response, Paul felt a sharp pain coming from a point in his right ear. Something was pulling him back painfully by his ear. Paul gasped in pain and was shoved forcefully out into the open.

          "Ah," the man said. "An intruder."

          "You!"

          It was Penelope, pointing at him in disbelief.

          "You're the guy looking at the flowers!" she said. "What are you doing in here?"

          The brown haired man stepped forward.

           "You can let go of him Archie."

           The grip on Paul's ear vanished and he looked around. There was a boy with wings that looked like they would break at the slightest breath of wind. Wings.

           "What are you doing here?" the man asked. "Are you here to stop us? Are you here to stop these children?"

             I don't know. Paul opened his mouth then closed it, thinking.

             "Well?"

             "I knew someone," said Paul. "who came here a long time ago. He never came back home."

             "How does that person have anything to do with us?"

             "He came to get you," said Paul. "He came to save my world. But he didn't come home."

             Paul fixed the man with a cold, hard stare.

            "Can you tell me, man, why didn't Runcorn come home?"

            Even the wind seemed to stop. The man, and the children, stood stock still, all watching him.

           "Why didn't he come home?" Paul demanded. "It's been months. They want me to do what he did, but better."

           Tears were coming to his eyes but he blinked them away.

          "Tell me now, stranger. Why didn't Runcorn come home?"