Like A Flower Blooming

Chapter 3

After me and Dudley had a fight about who would see through the keyhole, I listened under the door but was unable to hear anything but mumbled words. When Uncle Vernon stalked towards the door, I ran into my cupboard and closed the door as quickly but quietly as I could. 

I sketched out the outline of the letter and started coloring it in. After I was done, I had a pretty good drawing. Maybe Ashley was right. I should send mine into a art contest. A few more years of practice ( I would have seven, anyway) and I could be really good. 

Later that day, Uncle Vernon came to my cupboard.

“ Where’s my letter?” I asked, fuming.

“ It was misaddressed. I’ve burned it,” he answered.

“ It wasn’t misaddressed. It’s got my cupboard on it!” I said, furious at his lie.

“ Be quiet! About the cupboard, your aunt and I have been thinking that you’ve been getting too old for it and that you should take Dudley’s second bedroom instead,” he said.

“ But...”

“ Move this rubbish upstairs now!” he interrupted me.

Dudley’s second bedroom... or my room was tiny. It was the smallest room in the house and I only needed one trip to take everything upstairs. I left my suitcase in the wardrobe and took out my sketching pad and coloring pencils, putting them on my bedside table. When was I going to get out of here?

The letter was forgotten the next morning, well not by me at least but when Dudley went to get the mail, he found another one. The next few days were full of letters popping up into the weirdest places like our dairy products. Uncle Vernon nailed the mailbox shut and the door so that we couldn’t leave.

“ Dad’s gone mad, hasn’t he, Mum?” I heard Dudley say one day to his mother. He had gone paranoid. But the thing that confirmed it came on Sunday. Uncle Vernon was looking extremely happy when I walked downstairs. 

“ Dudley, what’s so special about Sundays?” Uncle Vernon asked. Dudley shrugged.

“ No mail,” I answered.

“ Right, Ari. No more blasted letters TODAY!” he said, stuffing something in his mouth.

Something whacked him in the back of his head and the thing came right out. It was a biscuit. Something came zooming out of the fireplace. When it landed, I saw a letter: Ms. A. Potter, The Smallest Bedroom...

More came shooting out. Dudley started screaming as he cowered behind his mother. I ran up trying to catch one. I felt a letter come into my hand and I ran for it, trying to make it upstairs where I could lock my bedroom door. 

When I reached the first step, I felt hands wrap around me and lift me up. Letters were everywhere. I felt the letter tear out of my fist and I yelled.

“ Pack your stuff. We’re going somewhere they won’t be able to find us!” Upstairs, I packed my clothes in the suitcase and put my sketching pad into my backpack. I surveyed the room for something I’d forgotten.

Nothing. I walked downstairs. All the letters were gone. Not one in sight. Uncle Vernon was in a bad mood when he pushed my stuff into the back seat and pointed at me to get in. I don’t know where we drove. I just know it was long. 

Sometimes Uncle Vernon would drive one way and drive another, muttering something about “ Shake them off.” What information did “ them” need to give me so bad? Why were they chasing us? How’d they know so much about my life?

While we drove, I considered theories for them, each one more ridiculous than the last one. In the end, I was still clueless and concentrated on where we were heading. Dudley was howling by 7pm. We were in the middle of nowhere, we’d had no food since breakfast and he’d never gone so far without playing a video game. 

Uncle Vernon stopped at a store to get some food and came out with a lean package, some food and some drinks. I bit into an apple as soon as I got tossed something to eat. I was starving! 

Dudley was eating a bag of chips and drinking soda. I grabbed Coca-Cola before Uncle Vernon took the bag away and popped open the can. We made our final stop at 11pm. I was exhausted when we stepped out of the car and was hit by sea air. 

“ Man’s lent us the boat so come on everyone in. I clung to my suitcase and backpack as we crossed the sea. It was extremely stormy today and when we landed on the island, I saw a tiny hut. I walked up into it and saw the tiny two-room hut. 

Uncle Vernon tried to make a fire but failed. He was in a good mood because no one in their right mind was going to come in the middle of a storm to deliver a letter. I also agreed with him but that did not make me happy. 

Dudley got the couch while I stole a few of his blankets to make a mattress and used my backpack as my pillow. Tomorrow I was going to turn eleven! I thought. Birthdays were never fun with the Dursleys but you weren’t eleven everyday. 

I closed my eyes to fall asleep but heard a beeping noise. I opened my eyes and saw Dudley’s digital watch counting down the seconds to midnight. 10-9-8-7-6. Only six seconds to go, Ari. 5-4. I was almost eleven. 3-2-1-0. I was eleven years old. Nothing happened. I closed my eyes, yelling at myself for being so gullible to believe that anything would happen. 

Boom! The door thundered like someone was knocking on it. Boom. It went again. Who in their right mind would be outside on a deserted island in the middle of a storm?