And as promised, a JONATHANS TALE teaser... I had never felt so bored. I would give Bonnies family one good quality. They truly knew their wine selection. I took another drink, its sweetness lighting my tongue with exquisite pleasure. “All I am saying is that it is not about being inhuman. It is our livelihood. And who would be out in the fields? Surely not us.” I took another drink. We had been around Bonnies large rectangular dinner table for two hours. While I had enjoyed the feast her family had laid out for all of us here, I had not liked Brett getting into an on-again/off-again debate with Percy Orton. Then again, I had never liked Percy Orton. I found him to be too full of himself. Even now, he sat across from Brett, waving his arms about like some drunken layabout in public...something he was known to do. “Why not you?” Percy challenged, tossing his curly blond hair. “It is your land.” “They are treated well,” Brett fired back. “On your land,” Percy corrected. “Can you speak for the rest of the Southern states? I think not.” “Gentlemen!” I looked past Brett. Bonnie had sat at the end of the table, the very picture of hostess in her rippled blouse dress. Now she stood up, her hands holding her up. She looked positively irritated the two of them. “I did not invite you here to get into a long drawn-out debate,” Bonnie declared. “How about we leave that up to our President?” “As if that is a wise thing,” Brett muttered beside me. “Why would it not be?” Percy asked. “How about we talk,” a light-haired brunette who sat across from me interrupted, “about our new arrival?” She gave Bonnie a frown. “Speaking of which...I thought she was going to be in attendance tonight? This is her welcoming dinner.” I looked at Bonnie. “New arrival?” Bonnie glared at the brunette.”She was invited. I had the invitation sent this morning.” She looked at me, smiling. “Yes, new arrival, Jonathan. It is...was...our mystery person in the carriage the other day. My mother found out what the name of the family is. The Ashcourts.” “Is that all she found out?” A long-haired blond woman sitting next to Brett asked. She gave Bonnie a smirk. “She is slipping.” Bonnie shot the woman a look. “For your information, Cicely, the Ashcourts moved into the old Cory estate.” Whispers shot up from the other dinner guests. Everyone in town knew of the old Cory estate. Everyone knew of the series of events that befell that family. Everyone knew of the murders. Suddenly, pain erupted from my forehead. I grabbed it quickly. My eyes squeeze shut, trying to will the stabbing pain away. If I did not will it away soon, I... ThOsE mUrDeRs. Oh, DeAr. WhO iS hE tO... jOnAtHaN aPpEaRs IlL. “Jonathan?” Bonnie uttered. “Jonathan, are you...” “I am well,” I said quickly, standing up. “I just need...air.” I hurried toward the hallway. When Brett and I had first arrived, Bonnie had given us a little tour. That tour had included a view of the balcony that overlooked the long driveway of the front of the estate. I took to it now, my hands gripping the stone railing as if at any moment I would fall into a dark bottomless pit. Curse these headaches. They had been with me as far back as I could remembered. It was like someone was slowly nailing spikes into my head...then slowly pulling them right back out. It was extremely unpleasant. What made it worse was what followed. The voices. They filled my head. They were not my own. They were other peoples voices with their hidden thoughts. The more I attempted to drown them out, the worse the pain became. I had no control over when it occurred. That was a disadvantage I could not afford. “Well...” I spun around. My feet stumbled into each other. My left hand grabbed the railing again just in time. Otherwise, I would have fallen to the concrete floor. For a moment, I saw nothing, but the windowed door I had walked through, the long windows on each side of it, the curtains hanging over it all, and the shadows. Suddenly, the shadows swung to life, revealing a slim figure. As the figure came into the light, I saw it was a woman. It...was her. Her hands were behind her back, her arms gloved. She had on a long black dress that had buttons that lined it from her neck all the way down to the bottom of the dress. Her jet-black hair was straightened, a few strands of it caught in the light breeze blowing. She brought her head up to look at me, her beautiful eyes looking inhuman in this light. “...alone at last,” she said.
Posted on: Mon, 28 Oct 2013 16:36:30 +0000