Wild Heart Read Online Free
Author: Patricia Gaffney
couldn't see his mouth; the bristling mustache concealed it. But she remembered his eyes from that day he had watched her with Charles through his window. She'd seen pictures of wolves with eyes like that, intense and unblinking, too light to be quite natural. Blind-looking eyes that still seemed to see everything. She turned back to her father's notes.
26 May 1893
Notes, O.M.
We are reduced to interesting but unimportant observations. West nailed a mirror on the wall in O.M. 's room. From our peephole we watched as he saw himself for the first time. His initial fear wore off in seconds (we deduced he has seen his reflection before now, imperfectly in water, ice, or the like), after which he exhibited dismay, then hilarity, then fascination. He touched and poked at his face, made grotesque expressions, walked to the far wall in order to see as much of his body as possible. After about ten minutes, however, he lost interest and returned to his usual place by the window.
We observe that flowers, regardless of how showy or fragrant or beautiful, do not hold his interest even momentarily. Give him a square of bright red cloth, however, or any shiny metal object, even the lid to an old pot, and he is as absorbed as a child with a toy. Anything that glitters or gleams holds him spellbound. West gave him a new horseshoe, and now he keeps it with his other treasures, his bottlecaps and shells, his colored handkerchiefs.
And, of course, his book. This object seems to serve as a totem for him, providing a zone of safety to which he retreats when upset or fearful.
21 May 1893
Notes, OM.
Introduced him to domestic animals today, with intriguing but ultimately unfortunate results. West pushed Wanda (Winter family cat) through door to O.M. 's room, then immediately retreated to join me at our peephole. No response after initial meeting; some mutual sniffing, then both ignored each other.
Next, cat removed and Hector (family hound) put into room. Immediate fascination on both sides! After two minutes, O.M. and Hector were romping together in the manner of puppies, with much playful growling, wrestling, nipping. O.M. lay on his back and let Hector torment him, jump on his stomach, chew his hair, feet, hands, face.
Observation: O.M. can make sounds (but not words) and can laugh.
Experiment backfired, however. Hector (part bloodhound) accidentally sniffed out our hiding place when their horseplay dislodged the heavy chair that had partly concealed us. O.M. peered into hole and saw me. His face registered amazement, then deep embarrassment; he actually blushed. He paced the room, highly agitated, casting angry glances at the peephole. Then he dragged over the chest of drawers to cover it.
Evidence of problem-solving intelligence was interesting and noteworthy. However, the end of our secret observations is a very disappointing loss.
"Sidney, there you are."
She almost jumped; she'd been so absorbed in his notes, she hadn't heard her father open the door and come into the study. "Papa, I was just—I was about to start transcribing these—I had just . . ." She trailed off, abashed. She wasn't supposed to be poring over her father's old notes, she was supposed to be typing up his new ones, and separating into two casebooks the personal from the more formal observations he would eventually submit to Chairman Slocum. But what did it matter? He hadn't noticed what she was doing anyway, and wouldn't have cared if he had.
"Here," he said briefly, dropping another loose-leaf binder on the desk in front of her.
"You want me to type these?"
"Hm? Mm." He was already at the bookshelf behind her, searching for something.
Sydney stood up, frowning, full of warring emotions. "What happened to Mr. Smith?"
"Smith?"
"Your secretary. The one who typed all your notes while I was in Europe."
"Ah, Smith. Let him go."
"Why?"
"Hm?" He finally focused on her. He spread his arms, and his gentle, charming smile lit
26 May 1893
Notes, O.M.
We are reduced to interesting but unimportant observations. West nailed a mirror on the wall in O.M. 's room. From our peephole we watched as he saw himself for the first time. His initial fear wore off in seconds (we deduced he has seen his reflection before now, imperfectly in water, ice, or the like), after which he exhibited dismay, then hilarity, then fascination. He touched and poked at his face, made grotesque expressions, walked to the far wall in order to see as much of his body as possible. After about ten minutes, however, he lost interest and returned to his usual place by the window.
We observe that flowers, regardless of how showy or fragrant or beautiful, do not hold his interest even momentarily. Give him a square of bright red cloth, however, or any shiny metal object, even the lid to an old pot, and he is as absorbed as a child with a toy. Anything that glitters or gleams holds him spellbound. West gave him a new horseshoe, and now he keeps it with his other treasures, his bottlecaps and shells, his colored handkerchiefs.
And, of course, his book. This object seems to serve as a totem for him, providing a zone of safety to which he retreats when upset or fearful.
21 May 1893
Notes, OM.
Introduced him to domestic animals today, with intriguing but ultimately unfortunate results. West pushed Wanda (Winter family cat) through door to O.M. 's room, then immediately retreated to join me at our peephole. No response after initial meeting; some mutual sniffing, then both ignored each other.
Next, cat removed and Hector (family hound) put into room. Immediate fascination on both sides! After two minutes, O.M. and Hector were romping together in the manner of puppies, with much playful growling, wrestling, nipping. O.M. lay on his back and let Hector torment him, jump on his stomach, chew his hair, feet, hands, face.
Observation: O.M. can make sounds (but not words) and can laugh.
Experiment backfired, however. Hector (part bloodhound) accidentally sniffed out our hiding place when their horseplay dislodged the heavy chair that had partly concealed us. O.M. peered into hole and saw me. His face registered amazement, then deep embarrassment; he actually blushed. He paced the room, highly agitated, casting angry glances at the peephole. Then he dragged over the chest of drawers to cover it.
Evidence of problem-solving intelligence was interesting and noteworthy. However, the end of our secret observations is a very disappointing loss.
"Sidney, there you are."
She almost jumped; she'd been so absorbed in his notes, she hadn't heard her father open the door and come into the study. "Papa, I was just—I was about to start transcribing these—I had just . . ." She trailed off, abashed. She wasn't supposed to be poring over her father's old notes, she was supposed to be typing up his new ones, and separating into two casebooks the personal from the more formal observations he would eventually submit to Chairman Slocum. But what did it matter? He hadn't noticed what she was doing anyway, and wouldn't have cared if he had.
"Here," he said briefly, dropping another loose-leaf binder on the desk in front of her.
"You want me to type these?"
"Hm? Mm." He was already at the bookshelf behind her, searching for something.
Sydney stood up, frowning, full of warring emotions. "What happened to Mr. Smith?"
"Smith?"
"Your secretary. The one who typed all your notes while I was in Europe."
"Ah, Smith. Let him go."
"Why?"
"Hm?" He finally focused on her. He spread his arms, and his gentle, charming smile lit
Readers choose
Russ Watts
Susan Spann
Will Self
C. Alexander London
Alexie Aaron
KRIS NORRIS
Megan McDonald
Ryann Kerekes
Patricia MacLachlan
J. R. Roberts