Long Time Gone

Chapter 5

Freezing. That was my state both physically and mentally. My naked hands were cold. My fingertips were numbed to the point that they started turning pale blue. A shudder ran down my spine- not because of the cold, but because of the fearful situation at hand..

Mrs Tucker, agitated as she was all the times, fumbled in her yard before my terror filled eyes. Bob, on my side, was as still as a mannequin, staring into a distance as if plotting out a plan. I looked at him, searching his face for any sign of hope. At last, Bob nodded as if he got it all sorted.

"Okay- here's what we'll do." He said with his southern accent shaky and nervous.

He pointed his index finger at me. "You will go up to Mrs Tucker- wander as if you're searching for something- not cluelessly 'cause y'know she hates dumb idiots. She'll see you and question about your business in such early hours- reply that you're looking for an heirloom that your Auntie Martha dropped when she came about this side of the neighborhood. Make it look convincing! Everybody knows how strict your Aunt is- say that she made you run back to the neighborhood and fetch the missing heirloom regardless of the hour! Just do your part realistically and then beg her to help you. Look for few seconds- I'll slip to the other side of the churchyard in the meantime- then you'll thank her and rush- no! Walk to where I'll be waiting- by the right side of the church gates. They open up to the highway which will lead us to the station. Understood?"

My eyes were wide upon hearing out Bob's plan. The only thing I could mutter was, "Me!? You want me to go up to Mrs Tucker!?"

"Yes! Because if she saw me, she'll surely shriek because everybody knows about me and my history with escape plans!" Bob impatiently said as he gripped my shoulders. "You can do this, Lizzie. Be bold, my baby."

He took my luggage bag from my shoulders and kissed me promisingly on the forehead. "Go!" He hissed, shoving me forward encouragingly.

I trembled- for I was a coward. I wasn't brave like Bob. All I did was cower next to him.

Yet here I was- advancing towards Mrs Tucker's yard with a thick heartbeat and numbed limbs. Suddenly remembering my task, I scanned the ground as if looking for a lost heirloom. I checked the bases of the plants, the fences of the yards and the mounds of snow.

At first, the librarian didn't take any notice of me, but she eventually gasped as I formed silently in front of her yard fence, scanning my eyes hither and thither.

"Oh dear!" Mrs Tucker started, hand on her chest, "You scared me by your silent approach! What're you doing at this hour, young lady?"

"I apologize for giving you a start, Mrs Tucker." I said in my most innocent tone. "I-I was in the neighborhood looking for a lost heirloom. Auntie Martha lost it when she came round visiting Mrs Rosmead.... She's the village gypsy, n-no? Auntie ordered me to fetch her belonging regardless of the hour."

"Auntie Martha- the solemn widow? Mrs Rosmead- yes, that lunatic gypsy. Lost heirloom!?" Mrs Tucker pronounced rather loudly, leaning on her rake and eyeing me up and down. "A likely story, eh?"

"It's the truth." I pressed, my nerves almost breaking down on me but I remained in my confident posture. "It's quite cold- I'm looking for almost an hour. Any chance you've spotted something peculiar in your yard?"

"Not that I recall." Mrs Tucker admitted, now seemingly believing my story. "What was it- a medallion?"

My mind raced. I shook my head slowly, in order appear realistic. "It was simply a brass cup. Passed on to generations in Auntie Martha's family."