Blood Vivicanti (9780989878586) Read Online Free Page B

came home every evening
to a quiet wife and two daughters. Sometimes his eldest daughter
helped him in the bookstore. Sometimes his youngest daughter helped
him haul away garbage. They were a happy family because their
household lacked ambition to change the world, yet they strove to
change themselves for the better, “which is perhaps the least
obvious way to make the world a better place,” Joe used to
say.
    He and his family knew the
world was always changing all by itself. They just weren’t
threatened by it.
    I’d never seen a family so
balanced and happy and fearless.
     
     
     
     
    Their home wasn’t far from
Joe’s bookshop. He liked to walk wherever he went.
    I followed him to his
house. I watched him go to his home. His house was four walls and a
roof. His home was four people and a life.
    It was evening.
    Dinner was
ready.
    Joe’s family held hands
around the dinner table. The meal was small and simple. I watched
them through the window. I could hear them giving thanks to God for
the gift of food.
    The scent of food suffused
the village. Other families were readying supper now.
    I looked around at Joe’s
neighborhood. It wasn’t like the gated community where my mom and
dad lived. Joe’s neighborhood was on a nearly paved road. Each
surrounding house was unique. No two looked alike. It was a place
I’d like to live for the rest of my life, a place of simplicity, a
place of peace.
    But right then, once again,
I saw the Dark Man and the Pale Girl.
    Lowen and Nell.
     
     
     
     
    Lowen was standing in the
woods at the edge of the neighborhood. He still wore the same dark
clothes and dark expression.
    To his left stood Nell, the
girl my age, still seeming so sickly and drowned in
misery.
    To Lowen’s right was an
open doorway. It was made of stone more ancient than
Stonehenge.
    Darkness and fog were
spilling from the doorway, spreading throughout the woods, bleeding
into the neighborhood.
    At the top of the doorway
were letters that I could not read. They were from a dead language
long forgotten by the human mind.
    Lowen reached up and waved
his hand over the letters. They changed. Now I could read them
easily. They spelled two words:
     
    HAPPY NOW
     
     
     
     
    Lowen’s expression
changed.
    He stopped leering at me.
He started to glare at someone over my shoulder.
    I turned around to see what
he saw.
    Ms. Crystobal was standing
at the far end of the road.
    Beside her stood a country
door, wooden, painted red and white. Over the iron knocker was a
sign that read:
     
    KNOCK TO FIND
     
     
     
     
    I could hear everything in
the forest, moles burrowing, owls soaring, wolves hunting, and
more.
    But I could not hear Ms.
Crystobal. Or Lowen or Nell for that matter. It was as if they were
not there.
    Ms. Crystobal stood with
her arms folded, a defiant stance. She wasn’t looking at me, but
over my shoulder, back at Lowen and Nell.
    I turned back around to
Lowen.
    But he was gone. Nell and
the ancient stone doorway had gone with him.
    I whirled to face Ms.
Crystobal.
    But she and her door had
disappeared too.
    The woodlands seemed
unbothered. And right at that moment, I had a small wish to be like
that old forest.
     
     
     
     
    Joe and his family said
together: “Amen!”
    I turned to watch them.
They were sitting down at the table. They were rolling up their
sleeves. They were ready to eat.
    I didn’t know what to think
of the sight of Lowen and Ms. Crystobal. There was no explanation
for it. I didn’t know who Lowen was or what he wanted. I couldn’t
understand why Ms. Crystobal had followed me. Was she protecting
me?
    The sight of their doors
was even more confusing. Could that be what she meant about doors
and choices?
    Theo’s Blood Memories gave
me the confidence to confront Ms. Crystobal about this matter
later, when I returned to the mansion.
    Without his Blood Memories
I would have only imagined confronting other people. I would have
only been a tissue paper girl with a wild