"Let's go inside and have a seat, Olivia." The man moved his grip to contain her bicep and guided her through the backdoor of the house. "Watch that ankle," he said as she stumbled on the threshold. In the thin light of the three-quarter moon Olivia saw the silhouette of a gun on the officer's hip.
Good Lord, when would he ever use that in Pawtucket? Olivia knew she hadn't done anything illegal, but her hands went cold.
Her captor turned on a flashlight and pointed it at the antique couch in the middle of the living room. "Sit." Olivia lowered herself onto the old couch, her grandmother’s favorite. The heat of her ankle had faded; replaced by the tight feeling of swollen flesh.
The officer swung the flashlight around the room. “Where’s the light switch?” Olivia heard him mutter, but she didn’t say a word. The living room was in the oldest part of the house and didn’t have an overhead light. She hoped he never found the lamp in the corner. Life was so much easier to take in the dark.
“You in here, boss?” Another man called.
“Yeah, just looking for…. ah, here we are.” The corner lit up; Camille’s Tiffany lamp brought to action.
“What the…” the second officer ducked instinctively as he looked around.
In the muted light from the Tiffany lamp, the wind chimes hanging from the ceiling cast long shadows; spider legs reaching down, grazing their scalps, searching for the warmth beneath.
* * * * *
Olivia remembered the first time she saw the chimes and cringed. She hadn’t meant to tread on her grandmother’s feelings. Especially not on the day she arrived in Pawtucket, suitcase in hand, wearing the plain black dress her father bought for her middle school graduation. She’d worn the dress more recently to his funeral.
Camille answered the door in a plaid cotton house dress. “Oh, it has been far too long, my child,” she’d said, hugging Olivia, then sweeping her into the house that hadn’t seen a visitor in over sixteen years.
Camille’s living room faced east, and that morning the diffused daylight sharpened every color. Olivia dropped her suitcase on the patch of scatter rugs that served as a foyer before she looked around at her new home. “Whoa!” Olivia exclaimed as she processed what she saw. The living room was large, formal, and filled with expensive antique furniture. On the floor was an eighteenth century braided wool rug. On the ceiling was a spectacle so incongruous it forced a smile to Olivia’s lips. She hid it with her hand.
“There are three-hundred and five, dear.” Camille had said looking right into Olivia’s eyes, a soft smile on her face as well. “And each one brings me joy.” Olivia stood on the scatter rugs, next to her suitcase, and watched as grandmother touched each of one those chimes. Olivia thought the music would go on for days...
MORE TO COME! :)
Camille answered the door in a plaid cotton house dress. “Oh, it has been far too long, my child,” she’d said, hugging Olivia, then sweeping her into the house that hadn’t seen a visitor in over sixteen years.
Camille’s living room faced east, and that morning the diffused daylight sharpened every color. Olivia dropped her suitcase on the patch of scatter rugs that served as a foyer before she looked around at her new home. “Whoa!” Olivia exclaimed as she processed what she saw. The living room was large, formal, and filled with expensive antique furniture. On the floor was an eighteenth century braided wool rug. On the ceiling was a spectacle so incongruous it forced a smile to Olivia’s lips. She hid it with her hand.
“There are three-hundred and five, dear.” Camille had said looking right into Olivia’s eyes, a soft smile on her face as well. “And each one brings me joy.” Olivia stood on the scatter rugs, next to her suitcase, and watched as grandmother touched each of one those chimes. Olivia thought the music would go on for days...
MORE TO COME! :)
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More, more, more!
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