him with her
green eyes.
"We are going to
have to see her, you know."
Timothy blinked.
"What? Who?"
Kit pushed away from
the table. "If all you are going to do is mope, it will be today."
She rounded the table and grabbed his arm.
"Go where? Let
go."
"You said you
didn't find anything worthwhile. The books are not going anywhere. It is time
for a break." Kit tugged Timothy and the chair teetered.
He shrugged her off.
"Fine. A short break. Just a minute." He folded the yellowed note and
tucked it into his shirt.
Kit snagged his shirt.
"Don't make me…" She tugged. Timothy flailed, trying to keep the
chair from upending.
"All right. All
right!"
Timothy allowed Kit to
drag him out of the library and the comforting, musty smell of childhood. A few
sisters bobbed their heads and smiled as they passed, many of them probably
remembering Timothy's antics as a child. Sister Grace often took the brunt of
his pranks. She looked more dignified now, age giving her a web of laugh lines.
He once liked to sketch Sister Rae. Her plumpness belied her rail-thin younger
days.
Sister Tera brushed
past Kit and Timothy and spoke to Sister Grace. "We have another guest. Do
we have another men's room ready?"
"Goodness,"
Sister Grace said. "Who would travel in this weather? Show me to him,
Sister Tera."
Kit pulled Timothy
around a corner, cutting off the voices.
"Just what are we
doing?" he asked.
"Visiting your
mother."
Timothy tried to plant
his heels, but Kit barreled him down the hall anyway. "Really, we don't
have to do this now." Timothy had to walk or fall and be dragged. He
walked, Kit's hand clamping his wrist. "Apple bread!" he said.
"Have you tried the apple bread? How about the wine? Sister Rae grows the
grapes herself."
"Today. You will
not keep your mother waiting," Kit said.
"Aunt Mae put you
up to this, didn't she?" Timothy asked. Kit ignored him. "She needs
to rest. Seeing me will be a shock. She…she is delicate. How do you know where
to go? She did put you up to this!"
"I used my fox
powers. What do you think? The abbess and I both know you need to see your mom.
Be grateful that you…"
A single polished door
stood at the end of the hall. Kit stopped and touched the too clean, too
polished wood surface. Timothy yanked his hand away and rubbed his wrist. The
girl was a lot stronger than she looked.
"It is like a
mirror!" Kit said.
Timothy shrugged.
Evelyn was…particular about cleaning. He had a hard time thinking of Evelyn as
his mother. Aunt Mae and the sisters were his real mothers. Evelyn sometimes
sat and played with him, but Timothy could not recall anytime she had left her
room.
Kit knocked. The
mirror-like door opened a crack to reveal a single hazel eye. Kit pushed
Timothy forward. "Someone is here to see you."
Timothy hesitated. Kit
growled, and her foot spiked into his shin.
"Hello…mom."
The eye blinked.
"Be sure to take off your shoes, Timmy." The eye disappeared as fast
as it had materialized.
Kit shoved Timothy
through the door.
The chamber gleamed.
The wan light coming from the rainy sky filtered through the spotless window
and bounced off every surface. Even the whitewashed walls held a polished glow.
A table with three plate sets dominated the room. The table, like everything in
the room, gleamed. The white tableware shamed snow. A blue vase of flowers
perched in the middle, not a single petal marring the table. The crisp bed in
the corner of the room looked like it was never slept in, the floral blankets
without a single crease. A bookcase, its surface gleaming like every other
surface, stood by a hearth that held a few pristine logs arranged just so.
Evelyn sorted the books by size and title. A large rug lay on the floor.
Time did not touch the
room.
Evelyn regarded Timothy
with blurry eyes, a few fine lines webbing the corners of her eyes. Her simple
gray clothes hung from her, the skin on her hands cracked from constant
cleaning.
Kit's breath tickled
Timothy's ear. "She is much
green eyes.
"We are going to
have to see her, you know."
Timothy blinked.
"What? Who?"
Kit pushed away from
the table. "If all you are going to do is mope, it will be today."
She rounded the table and grabbed his arm.
"Go where? Let
go."
"You said you
didn't find anything worthwhile. The books are not going anywhere. It is time
for a break." Kit tugged Timothy and the chair teetered.
He shrugged her off.
"Fine. A short break. Just a minute." He folded the yellowed note and
tucked it into his shirt.
Kit snagged his shirt.
"Don't make me…" She tugged. Timothy flailed, trying to keep the
chair from upending.
"All right. All
right!"
Timothy allowed Kit to
drag him out of the library and the comforting, musty smell of childhood. A few
sisters bobbed their heads and smiled as they passed, many of them probably
remembering Timothy's antics as a child. Sister Grace often took the brunt of
his pranks. She looked more dignified now, age giving her a web of laugh lines.
He once liked to sketch Sister Rae. Her plumpness belied her rail-thin younger
days.
Sister Tera brushed
past Kit and Timothy and spoke to Sister Grace. "We have another guest. Do
we have another men's room ready?"
"Goodness,"
Sister Grace said. "Who would travel in this weather? Show me to him,
Sister Tera."
Kit pulled Timothy
around a corner, cutting off the voices.
"Just what are we
doing?" he asked.
"Visiting your
mother."
Timothy tried to plant
his heels, but Kit barreled him down the hall anyway. "Really, we don't
have to do this now." Timothy had to walk or fall and be dragged. He
walked, Kit's hand clamping his wrist. "Apple bread!" he said.
"Have you tried the apple bread? How about the wine? Sister Rae grows the
grapes herself."
"Today. You will
not keep your mother waiting," Kit said.
"Aunt Mae put you
up to this, didn't she?" Timothy asked. Kit ignored him. "She needs
to rest. Seeing me will be a shock. She…she is delicate. How do you know where
to go? She did put you up to this!"
"I used my fox
powers. What do you think? The abbess and I both know you need to see your mom.
Be grateful that you…"
A single polished door
stood at the end of the hall. Kit stopped and touched the too clean, too
polished wood surface. Timothy yanked his hand away and rubbed his wrist. The
girl was a lot stronger than she looked.
"It is like a
mirror!" Kit said.
Timothy shrugged.
Evelyn was…particular about cleaning. He had a hard time thinking of Evelyn as
his mother. Aunt Mae and the sisters were his real mothers. Evelyn sometimes
sat and played with him, but Timothy could not recall anytime she had left her
room.
Kit knocked. The
mirror-like door opened a crack to reveal a single hazel eye. Kit pushed
Timothy forward. "Someone is here to see you."
Timothy hesitated. Kit
growled, and her foot spiked into his shin.
"Hello…mom."
The eye blinked.
"Be sure to take off your shoes, Timmy." The eye disappeared as fast
as it had materialized.
Kit shoved Timothy
through the door.
The chamber gleamed.
The wan light coming from the rainy sky filtered through the spotless window
and bounced off every surface. Even the whitewashed walls held a polished glow.
A table with three plate sets dominated the room. The table, like everything in
the room, gleamed. The white tableware shamed snow. A blue vase of flowers
perched in the middle, not a single petal marring the table. The crisp bed in
the corner of the room looked like it was never slept in, the floral blankets
without a single crease. A bookcase, its surface gleaming like every other
surface, stood by a hearth that held a few pristine logs arranged just so.
Evelyn sorted the books by size and title. A large rug lay on the floor.
Time did not touch the
room.
Evelyn regarded Timothy
with blurry eyes, a few fine lines webbing the corners of her eyes. Her simple
gray clothes hung from her, the skin on her hands cracked from constant
cleaning.
Kit's breath tickled
Timothy's ear. "She is much
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