Abigail Jane

Chapter 3

The next day I was tired of trying to figure this all out. I thought I would spend my summer days like I usually do, and go to work. My job was pretty easy if you have a green thumb. I grow large gardens of flowers, most flowers are usually used in banquets, some ornamental and other medicinal. I sold them all kinds of people, people who made bouquets, sold flowers, made natural remedies and people who just like flowers.

My garden was in an empty lot next to my house, tucked right beside the bright green hill. An old cobblestone path lead from my house to the gardens large white fence gate. The gate was metal and had intricate designs of morning glories climbing up the gate and into the top of the gate. On the top of the gate there was what looked two deer surrounding the largest flower bloom at the top.

The gate was a unique piece I had found it in tangled in weeds in the backyard of my house. It was so amazing so intricate and so old looking I had to try to fix it up and restore it to its former glory, but the best I could do was clean it and spray paint it white to match my garden fence.

As I walked up to the fence that morning, my fence looked completely different. The morning glories entangled around it were colored. How were they painted? I did a double take, they were real morning glories. Morning glories were a common weed but how in just the day I left my garden had they taken of the gate.

I peeked inside the gate, it wasn't just the gate that was taken over it was the whole garden. I had worked hard on this garden since I had gotten my house. This was my carrier. I was outraged! How could this have happened!

I looked up everything that I could find about morning glories nothing explained why the flowery vines were acting up in such way. My only resource was the library, It might be old but it has information the internet does not always have.

I walked up the crumbling steps of the library. The library was one of the historic buildings in our town but the owner who once maintained it was now in her 90's and she paid people to take care of it but they didn't and due to her poor vision she thought it was fine.

The building was made mostly of concrete and had an elegant decor and lineing. I walked inside the smell of mildew and ink rushed to my nose. It felt very humid and the only sound you could here was the sound of the old window air conditioner and the clack clack of an ancient keyboard.

I said hi to Lilian the librarian and made my way to the garden section. I looked at a book about weeds, morning glories weren't even mentioned! I sighed.

Something moved, a little girl with red hair that I had not seen previously sat up from the corner of the library, I hadn't seen her before and she looked like no one I new from the town, but she seemed so familiar.

She sat up and looked at me, her eyes were bright blue and they seemed to stare Ice right into me. She sat down a copy of pride and prejudice, quite an advanced book for a girl of her age. Her little mouth opened and her words came out quiet, but loud and direct.

"I believe the information you will be looking for will be over there."

Her voice seemed to echo, it haunted me in its familarness, but I still could not recognize it.

She pointed to a place where copies of original manuscripts from the settlers of the town were kept. They were copied because the real versions were fragile and old. Also the tourists that came to the town for the history used to read them.

I went and picked up the one that sticked out. It was labeled "Single Dad (journal) 1655". I picked It up, what could a dad have to do with plants! Whatever, I would read it. I opened the crinkled pages to the middle, the smell of crisp ink escaped from the pages.

Nov 22,

Today is another day that my sweet Abigail is missing. She has been gone for almost a month now and as the bitter cold winds of winter approach I began to lose hope that she will ever return home or be ok. I can still remember vividly looking to where she had been playing last only to find splatters of scarlet among foot prints of the savage's stallions and a lone arrow.

A terrible indian had taken my child. I worried what if they had scalped her, skinned her. I had her stories from people about how terrible they were. I had not given up maybe just maybe they had keepen my young child alive, maybe these savage people would have mercy on my young child. People around here had not bothered the indians and they had not bothered us for at least 20 years now. They had fought badly in the beginning of the settlement but I had thought there was peace between us now, but there is no peace now as long as they hold my child captive.

Now I sit up every night crying for my last piece of my family is gone. I moved away from parents, brothers, and uncle to live with my wife who died in childbirth. I have no one.

That was the end of entry. I looked back astonished. Again I was somehow lead back to the link of Abigail again, but how would that have to do with morning glories, than I remembered. There were morning glories on her grave.

How could that little girl have known about Abigail, I turned around to where she had sat and she was gone.