by G. P. Ching
Chapter 10
A Possible Life Sentence
If there were a contest for the worst possible time to have to urinate, Jacob would’ve won. Once the surge of adrenaline had passed, the awkward bandaging session with Aunt Carolyn had begun. All of the glass was picked out of his arm, which was now covered in ample amounts of gauze. Then he was instructed to sit in the living room because Uncle John wanted to talk to him about his punishment. Jacob wasn’t sure how long he’d waited in the sage green recliner, but it was long enough to make him feel like he needed to pee at the exact moment the man sat down. Based on the frown on Uncle John’s face, he decided not to get up.
“So, here’s how it’s gonna be,” Uncle John began. “I think we can fix three of the dolls by hand. We’ll snap their heads back on and touch them up with some fresh hobby paint. The china dolls are obviously beyond repair. You will help find replacements and earn the money to buy them for Katrina.”
Jacob nodded. Even though he felt Katrina got what she deserved, he knew there would be consequences. It was time to pay the piper. As he saw it, the good news was that the way he earned the money to pay for the dolls could become the way he earned a ticket home. Even working in the shop a few weeks would be worth it, if it got him out of Paris.
“Now there’s the issue of the window. I’ve spoken to Dr. Silva and she thinks insurance will cover it, but you will have to pay her deductible. It’s one thousand dollars.”
“A thousand dollars?” Jacob winced.
“Jacob, that house was built in 1850. That window was leaded glass. I was as surprised as you were that it broke, but it did and it was expensive.”
“What do I have to do?”
“Dr. Silva has a garden out back and a greenhouse. Usually this time of year she hires some help to spread fertilizer, plant seeds—that sort of thing. It’s really more of a hobby but she has a large collection of rare and unusual plants that she’s amassed during her tenure.”
“Her tenure?”
“She’s a professor of Ethnobotany at the University of Illinois.”
“I don’t even know what that is.”
“Ethnobotany is the study of how people around the world use plants as part of their culture. She told me once that she found a root in Tibet that was used there for centuries to cure headaches. She brought a piece of it back to the United States, analyzed it, and a pharmaceutical company thinks they can make a new migraine medicine from it. She’s really, um, fascinating.” John’s eyes twinkled and Jacob wondered if Dr. Silva had the same effect on his uncle as she did on him. What was it about her? Yeah, she was beautiful, but he’d seen plenty of gorgeous women on the beach where he came from. It wasn’t like she was showing skin or in any way acting suggestively. So, why did he feel such an intense physical attraction toward her? It was like … magic.
“She has an extraordinary garden,” John continued. “It’s too much work for one person. So, this year she’ll have you.”
Jacob’s skin went clammy.
“She’s agreed to pay you seven dollars an hour for your labor and will employ you until such time as you pay off your debt or longer if you agree to it. It’s actually a great opportunity. Her work is known throughout the world. You may get to see some of it firsthand.”
Jacob shifted in his seat. He was trying to be mature about this, but the truth was he was terrified of the woman. He was sure she was a witch or something. He wondered if the night he’d seen her out his window was a hallucination at all.
“A professor, huh.” Jacob searched for the words. “She seems really … young.”
“You noticed. They say she’s brilliant. Graduated college top of her class at seventeen. I think she’s around thirty now. She moved here about ten years ago. Mostly keeps to herself.”
“So, what’s with the black cloak? It’s … creepy.”
“Yeah, I guess she’s a little eccentric. I mean, I can see why you might think that with the way she dresses and all. But if she makes you uncomfortable, you should have thought of that before you broke her window.” John’s eyebrows arched and the muscle in his jaw tightened. He pushed his plaid sleeves up to his elbows and threaded his fingers over his stomach. “You know, I knew her grandmother. She lived there before Abigail moved in. She was quite a looker. Even when she got old, really beautiful.” John was staring toward the fireplace, not looking at anything in particular.
Jacob searched his brain for something to say, any excuse to escape having to work for Dr. Silva. But nothing came to him. It was as if his brain were hiding in a corner of his head, inaccessible, a blank slate, and no help at all.
“You start Saturday.” He got up from the chair and turned toward the staircase. “Oh, and Jacob, you and Katrina will apologize to each other. I’m going to talk with her right now. This thing between you two has got to stop. You are part of this family now—that goes for you and that goes for her. You two have got to start treating each other like family or this is going to be hell on Earth for all of us.”
As John jogged up the stairs, Jacob rose from the sage green recliner and headed for the bathroom. On his way, he crossed in front of the large bay window. The world beyond was disguised as an early spring day but he knew it was as turbulent as ever. Why hadn’t John used this as an excuse to force him to work in the Laudners’ flower shop? That Jacob would have expected, but not this. This smacked of disaster.
There was definitely something odd, if not dangerous, about Dr. Abigail Silva. Jacob caught sight of her across the street, lying upside-down on a rocking chair on her front porch. Her bare ankles were crossed where her head should have been and her fingers dangled above the porch floor. At once, he realized she was looking at him, those blue eyes searching his face across the distance. And then, as if she had more muscles and joints than the average human, she planted her hands on the blue wood of the porch and flipped her feet over her head, landing easily on the balls of her feet. Jacob watched as she rose to her full height and leaned over the porch rail. Distance and glass couldn’t mellow her effect and the spice of terror and longing filled him, a confusing concoction that made his whole body clench.
She grinned, like the cat that was about to eat the canary.
