In Parched Gardens: Book 2

Chapter 8: A Thousand Times

She opened her locker, put in a mug she'd just washed the last remnants of tea out of, and grabbed her jacket. Slipping it on, she walked through the library, waving goodbye at a librarian and a few patrons as she left. Walking out to the parking lot, she felt a cool rain hanging in the air and zipped her jacket. Getting into her car, she turned it on, let it heat for a moment and put on some music. Then, she drove out of the parking lot and headed southwest.

Driving, Natalie watched the world. The roads were dark and winding, some of them stretching away beyond Allbrook. The sun was low in the sky. Evening was coming much faster now. Night would soon approach. Rolling her window down, just slightly, she smelled the fall air. The leaves dangled perilously on the trees and many littered the ground, diving out of her way as she drove. She could smell the rolling river too, the Moringlass to her left. It carried its earthy waters east, away toward the ocean. She thought about where they'd come from, the rolling waters. Somewhere far to the west, some great rushing river toward the setting sun.

On the south side of Mill Lake now, she passed the record store, movie theater, bookstore, and cafe. Turning sharply right, she looked out across Mill Lake. Just north of her, White Rapid's Mill cast a long shadow on the gray water. She thought about the tour, about all the Isaac had talked about. She thought about the gears of the mill and the boy and his dog. She had mixed feelings about those stories. For one, she loved stories. Stories were one of her favorite things in life. They had power. They were compelling. They conveyed and conjured emotions like almost nothing else. Culture clung to them. Language was made and remade. They could bring things to the light and cast other things to the darkness. Yet those stories... those stories seemed too close to home. Maybe she'd just heard them too many times.

She drove past Franklin's Cookout Stand and turned right onto Hollow Road, heading south toward the city limit. It was mostly pasture, farmland, and forested areas here. Soon, she passed Hollow's Pub and driving only a little bit further she pulled into a driveway.

The old familiar house brought her comfort. She'd been here so many times. A smaller ranch house, it had likely once been a farmer's home. She looked out across the yard. There weren't many decorations, but the ones that were there were bright and obvious. There was a small pumpkin on the front porch and a tiny skeleton propped by the mailbox. But there were also some Christmas lights strung in the branches of two of the trees in the front yard. A red, white, and blue ribbon hung from the doorstop. And a small green flag with a smiling leprechaun was rooted in the dirt of a flower pot along the walkway to the house.

Natalie turned her car off, walked up to the door, and knocked. But she didn't wait for someone to answer. Turning the doorknob, she walked in and set her stuff on a small table near the door. "Grandpa," she called out through the house as she kicked her shoes off and hung up her jacket on a coat rack.

"Grandpa," she called again after taking a few steps into the living room. There was a small fire burning in the fireplace, so she knew he was here somewhere.

"Natalie!" the man said, happily, after opening the backdoor and entering the house with an armful of sticks. "I thought I heard a car pull up. Come on in, take a seat!" he said, motioning to the comfy looking sofa in the living room across from the fireplace.

"How are you, Grandpa?" she asked the man. As he reached the fireplace and placed the sticks into them, she reached out to give him a hug.

"Oh, I've been quite well, actually," he said, hugging her. "Want anything?" he asked her. "Tea, coffee, some carrot cake I made yesterday?"

"What kind of tea do you have?" she asked him. She'd rather get the tea herself, but she knew he'd be upset if he didn't get to get it for her. For his age, he seemed to have boundless energy.