A/N: Okay, the last chapter was a little short, and this one may be as well, but I'm just trying to get past all of the explanation stuff.
Ivy did feel lonely now. Before, she always had Evelyn to attend to when Catherine and Noah were at school. But now, even her little Evelyn had left her. It really was quiet without her youngest daughter talking of every whispered gossip in Covington. She seemed to retain every last bit of information that had ever been spoken. Her gift, Ivy saw it.
So what was she to do now? She could always go and see Mrs. Nicholson. Mrs. Nicholson had gotten to be where she could not leave her house anymore, she was so brittle. Ivy was really the only one who ever visited her.
She felt the warmth of the fire, as she sat in her rocking chair. She was fond of this chair, it was all she had of him. Of her Papa. He had originally given it to Lucius after their wedding in June, but eventually, she used it more for comfort and Lucius understood. So, he fashioned one for himself so they could sit together. She smiled, thinking about him. In his own, quiet ways, he was the most romantic person she knew of.
She gripped her cane to her right, and stood. She really didn't need the cane, for she knew exactly where everything was, but she also couldn't bare to part with it. It was for aesthetic and personal reasons that she used it always, and always she would continue to use it.
She strode to the front door and opened it. "Come inside, Lucius." she said casually. He stood there, in the fog, just before their porch, and sheepishly looked up to her. She knew something was array.
"Did you not hear me? Lucius Hunt, you come inside before you catch the death of cold." She told him firmly and turned. She knew he was coming, she saw his color outside the window. Just as she had fifteen years before.
He took step after step, up the few stairs and across the wooden porch. Closing the door behind him, he walked up to Ivy, who was preparing a bowl of stew that she had prepared for the children when they returned. He put his arms around her, and they stood there silent for a few moments.
"What could be so important that you tear yourself away from your work to tell me?" She asked. She felt his breathing change, and knew something must be wrong. "Nothing, nothing...I finished work early today, and all was as should be..." He told her.
She turned around, and walked to the table, sitting his bowl down. She then slowly walked back into the kitchen, and reached into a wooden bin to retrieve two buiscuts. "So What are you not telling me?" she questioned. He fell silent again, sitting down at the table. She brought him the two pieces of food, and sat the by the wooden bowl.
"It's...Noah..." He began, picking up his spoon. She sat across the table, and listened. Something was bothering him, but she didn't feel that anyone was injured. She had always had a strong bond with the three of them, she could tell what they were feeling, when they were scared, even their greatest fears.
"He is in the Quiet Room." he said. At this, Ivy quickly looked at him. He saw that her sightless eyes were fixed upon his image. He looked down to his bowl. "He hit another boy, but will not say to what his intentions were..." Lucius explained. Ivy simply looked away, thinking about something. What she was thinking, Lucius never knew.
"It was not your fault." She told him. "He needed to be punished for his actions, and it was your responsibility to do so..." She tried to comfort him, she tried. She knew it pained him to punished the children.
She remembered once, Noah had shoved Catherine over childrens' quarrels, and Lucius had grabbed his arm in anger. It made Noah cry, even left bruises. Lucius couldn't look at Noah for almost a week. Not because he was angry at Noah, but she believed that he feared that he would get angry again and hurt someone. He was not the person to be mad...to hate.
"Why is it that I feel nothing for our children as you do?" He asked her. She looked at him, furrowing her brows.
"You do-you love them so. You care for them as any parent should care for their child." she told him. He looked down to the table, his fingers playing with a bread crumb. "I am not the loving parent...I am but a punisher. You are the one they love. They resent me."
Ivy stood up, and stomped her crane on the floor. He jumped in surprise, and saw that she was agrier than he had ever seen her. Her nostrels were flaring, and she seemed to be looking intently at him.
"Lucius Hunt! You will never say such things again in this house, or any where else in Covington, for that matter! You are not a mere punisher, you are their father!" she yelled at him. As the words bit at him, he sat there, lowering his head like a cowering dog. He then felt her hand upon the side of his face, cupping it in her hand. Her palms were warm, the touch gentle.
"You are our cherished one. We could not love as we do without you here as well." she said, now a calm and forgiving tone. He nodded. She walked to the door, and he watched her.
"I will be at my mothers' house for a short while. Please give Evelyn and Catherine their stew when they come home." she smiled at him. Her eyes, they were what he loved the most about her. They could see nothing, completely useless to her. However, they enabled her to see him, not "see" him. She saw Lucius as Lucius. The raw form of him that no one else could possibly ever see.
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Noah rubbed his fingers against the etched words. My be they had been here before, and he hadn't noticed them. Though, it did seemed unreal that he missed them, and it happened to go with his entry, and he happened to halucinate the words being written. But then, unreal would also be the nail scratching them itself.
He picked up the nail and then wrote:
Nice to meet you
At his, he placed the nail just below that, and waited. He stared intently, waiting for the nail to moved. It was absurd. This wasn't happening, and the nail wasn't going to just moved by itself. Now he knew why no one like coming here; it was creepy what your mind could play against yourself.
He stood and sat in the chair. He then heard something. He looked to the source of the sound, the floor. It the middle of the room, the floor boards seemed to be rattling slightly. Then, they abruptly stopped. Now he knew he hadn't imagined that. He got down on the floor, and crawled to the spot.
There seemed to be nothing unusual about the boards themselves. They were nailed down, so he couldn't removed them. He figured that a fox might have crawled underneath from the outside, and must be getting curious. A far fetch, but any explanation was better than none. This room was going to drive him crazy.
Just then, he heard the lock of the door. The door then opened, revealing nothing outside but the fog and grass. The, around the door, came a head. "Hello, Noah."
Heather stood there, smiling at him. She stepped inside, and shut the door behind her. "How did you get in?" he asked her. She laughed. "I picked the lock." she told him.
"How do you know how to pick a lock?" he asked. She smiled. "I sat there and figured it out until it finally popped open." she told him, revealing the large padlock that was on the door. He laughed with her. Besides, it was nice to have some kind of company. They sat on the floor, against the wall.
"Guess what happened to me today. Oliver Crane asked me to the fall dance, and he was terribly fidgetting, but I agreed to go, even though he has not spoken a word to me in his life before then." she rambled. She continued to talk about how he cannot seem to sit still and is always jumping about.
"Do you ever think about the woods?" Noah interrupted her. She looked to his eyes, and saw that he was serious in his question.
"It is forbidden, and it is not gentlemanly to speak of such things in front of a lady." she replied. He smiled.
"You did not answer my question, and it is not lady-like to leave a question un-answered." he coutered. She looked away. "It is when she wishes not to speak of a subject that makes her feel uncomfortable." she said. He laughed.
"And what is so funny, Noah Hunt?" She asked. He looked to her face, and smiled. "I thought you were fearless in conversation. After all, a lady also wouldn't speak of such mannor as to what we discussed this morning."
"That was different. I was comfortable with that." she replied, head held high. "But what about me?" he quipped. "Did you ever think that I might have been uncomfortable with the subject?" he laughed. She admitted, he did have a point. But something about today unnerved her. Enough to make her want to be cautious.
"Well, back to my question then. Do you ever think about the towns?" he asked her. That is not what you asked me." she suddenly told him. "You asked me if I ever thought about the woods, and of course I do. I am afraid that Those We Don't Speak Of may come into our village at any moment. I think about whether or not they are whatching me as I walk about, or even if my family will die while I sleep. Yes, Noah, I do think about those woods."
He looked at her, her eyes staring straight ahead, her face slightly off color. It was unlike her to be frightened of anything. "Sorry." he told her. She looked down. "Don't be. But I feel something will happen today. Something horrible." she said.
He nodded. He had been feeling the same as of late, and something about this room haunted him. Especially the event that happened before she got there.
"I have been having dreams. Of a boy, beaten by other children, and then a girl with long locks of red hair comes to his aide. She is kind, but I cannot see their faces." Heather suddenly spoke.
"On a happier note," she smiled, and perked to her usual self as if nothing had happened. "I wanted to be the first to wish you a happy birthday." she told him. He raised an eyebrow. "'Tisn't for another three days." he said.
"I know that, Noah. After all, I have known you since we were but two. However, I wanted to be the very first person, so I planned ahead." she explained.
"So you will be 15 years of age." she said, trailing off. She then smiled again, she she seemed to do alot, off and on. "That means you are aloud to court the person of your choice, but only if they accept." she happily looked to him, but then frowned. "I apologize, I did not think of what I said." she told him.
"You've done nothing to apologize for." he said.
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"Oh, it is good to have company on such a day as this." Mrs. Walker said, giving Ivy her cup of tea. Ivy took a sip, and smiled. "I forgot how well you grew the leaves." she said. Her mother laughed.
"You know, your father used to sit in that chair on the porch, in fog like this, and he would say that exact thing." she said, sitting across the kitchen table from her daughter. Then she sighed. "I do miss him these days." she then said. Ivy sat, running her fingers around the cup, enjoying the warmth. "I miss Papa too." Ivy said.
She felt her mothers hand reached for hers. Then her mother laughed. "So tell me how is that husband of yours?" she asked her, trying to take the conversation to a light note. Ivy smiled.
"Lucius is fine, but he has been weary as of late. He can't seem to sleep at night, and when he finally does, he gets about an hour or two and then I have to wake him." she told her mother. "And today, he had to put Noah in the Quiet Room."
Mrs. Walker gasped. "Noah? What did he do that was so terrible?" she asked. Ivy paused, and then took a drink of her tea.
"He hit another boy today. Lucius then put him in the Quiet Room, but it was a heavy task on his heart." she explained.
Mrs. Walker sipped at her cup, and then sat the cup down. "But what on earth would drive Noah to do such a thing? He was always such a good boy." she said. "I remember when I hadn't gotten out of bed for a week after your father died-it felt like forever. Anyway, that boy of yours walked right up to me, gave me a bundle of flowers, and do you know what he said? He told me, that 'The winters may steal away into the night, but the spring blesses us with the Ides of March'.
"At first I had no Idea what he was talking about, until I remembered that was what your father had told me when we were young. He must have told the boy that once...And that same summer, you were going to have Evelyn." she said, sitting back in her reminiscance. "He is a special boy. Like you, in some ways..."
Ivy smiled. Noah was just like his fahter, more than her. He never jostled about with the other boys, he was helpful to others, all of the women, and girls as she heard, adored him. He was an easy child. She even remembered that, as a baby, he never cried. In fact, the only time she ever heard Noah cry was when Lucius had grabbed his arm that one time.
"Well, it is almost dark outside, and I'm sure your husband is missing you. After all, he has to look after the children, why wouldn't he miss you." she laughed. Ivy smiled as well, but she suddenly felt a strange sense come over her.
Ivy stood, and smiled to her mother. "Come and visit us sometime. Catherine speaks fondly of you." Ivy said, before she headed for the door. "Ivy wait." her mother called. She ran to a small chest on the mantle piece, above the fire, and retrieved something. Ivy waited, holding out her hand.
Mrs. Walker placed the small item in her hand, and Ivy immediately began to analyze it. "Papa's necklace..." she whispered. Mrs. Walker smiled, closing Ivy fingers around it. "Give it to Noah for me, please." she said, and turned to leave Ivy standing by the door.
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Noah sat in the room, alone, and with almost no light. It was awfully dark outside. Heather had left a while ago, saying she had to be home before anyone worried. Of course, she had to lock the door again to make sure no one knew she was there. He was drifting to sleep, tired and hungry. But every time he fell asleep, his head would nod forward, and he'd snap awake again.
But this time, he laid his head back, and almost instantly, fell to a quiet slumber. He was dreaming of a place, with tall trees that creacked. Almost as if they were alive. And he was looking up, out of a large and wide whole. He could see the roots out of the wall of the hole.
There was red around him, the bad color, and he was cold. He felt very alone at that moment. He wanted someone to help him out of there, but he was trapped. And the a figure appeared above him, staring down at him. They were holding something in their hands, and staring down at him. But their face was hiden from his sight, for they were hooded, and the sky was providing a nice contrast to it all.
But something woke him, and he jerked as he sat up in his chair. A sound had awaken him. Then heard it again. He looked around, and parralell to him, across the room in the other corner, sat someone. a child, maybe 6, or 7.
They had their back to him, and head hanging down. "Hello?" he called to them, standing. He only heard a whimper The, suddenly they stood, and turned to face him, but their face was covered by their semi-long, dark, wet hair. It was raining outside, so he figured that maybe they had come in only moments before, but he had never seen this child before.
Then he noticed that they were holding a long, rusted nail. Gripping it tightly, so their knuckles were white. Then, the floor boards began to tremble slightly once more, and the nails seemed to slowly, yet simultaniously, rise up, twisting as they did. Whe they were completely out, they seemed to stand upright for a few seconds, before falling, rolling around. Then, the boards flew up, in every direction, hitting the walls, splintering into shards.
The child, then slowly let themself fall into it the black, bottomless hole. "No!" Noah shouted, rushing forward to stop them. He grabbed a piece of their shirt, there legs falling limply. He tried to pull the child up, but he was soaking. Then the child grabbed his arm, finger nails digging into his skin, and raised his head slowly. "You're It." they whispered before scratching Noah deep with the rusted nail.
Noah cried out in pain as he let go of the child. He then ran around the gap and to the door. To his luck, it wasn't locked, and he opened it, running out into the rain. And it was at this moment, he had run into someone who happened to be outside.
Both of them fell to the ground, groaning. Noah sat up, his clothes muddy from the rain, and looked to his left to see if the other person was alright. To his surprise, and against his luck, it was his father.
His father suddenly sat up, rubbing his shoulder, and then turned to Noah. He stood up, and grabbed Noah hard by the shoulder, picking him up. "What in heavens sake were you running for? You could have seriously injured someone!" Lucius screamed at him. Noah was stilled by fright, and found himself speechless.
"I-It was...The child in t-there..." he said, stuttering terribly, and looking back into the room.
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Ivy had finished wrapping the gauze around Noah's arm, where he had been scratched and bleeding. It didn't seem to stop either.
"There..." she said. She found his forehead with her soft, kind hands and gave him a kiss.
Lucius was pacing, partly in anger, and partly in worry. "Do you have any idea how mad I am right now? You broke out of the room, and cut yourself!" he screamed. "Lucius, lower your voice." Ivy calmly said.
"It wasn't me who cut my arm!" Noah said. "It was that boy in the corner." he told them. Lucius was in no mood for stroies, and Ivy seemed to want to hear the complete side of their son's stroy before condemning him.
"You even pried up all of the nails, and broke almost all of the floor boards in there!" Lucius yelled once again, and Ivy was about to tell him once more to keep his voice down, but he quickly apologized to her for yelling again. Noah felt unjustified. After all, wasn't the saying 'innocent until proven guilty'? But he figured that his father saw it as 'Guilty until proven Innocent'.
"Go to bed." Lucius firmly told him, and Noah rose slowly and trailed off. "By the way," he turned to face the two. "He said his name was Noah too." he said, before turning for th stairs. "Thank you for wrapping my arm, Ivy." he called back. Lucius sat down at the eating table, and she walked up to him, wrapping her arms around him, and leaning on him.
"You know, maybe he did not actually do those things. He said he fell asleep, didn't he?" she said. Lucius shook his head, and ran his hands through his wet hair in frustration. "But nails don't just come up by themselves, and wood doesn't just fly around snapping itself." he told her.
"You are right about that, but think of this: The door was unlocked already, wasn't it? The lock is on the outside, so he couldn't have possibly unlocked it himself." she said. "It is not wise to judge until you have thought things through." she told him. She did have a point.
Hours later, Noah lied in his bed. He couldn't sleep, he just kept thinking about the boy. Then, he heard someone at his door. He sat up, and saw his mother walk in with a bowl.
"What time is it?" he asked her. She handed him the bowl, which it turned out was full of leftover stew. "Either very late, or very early depending on how you think about it." she replied. He chuckled to himself.
She pulled a chair to the side of his bed. "You know your father worries." she said. He rolled his eyes. Luckily she didn't see it because she was blind, after all.
"We need to talk about something." she told him. "I want you to tell me more about that boy."
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Okay, so there it is. Not too hard to figure out what anything was, but this is just the beginning (assuming that you enjoyed it so far). So R&R, and I'll make sure the next chapter isn't so short.
