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Chapter Three
Uncle Henry
The next day I went to Uncle Henry's house.
He booked me tickets on a big airliner. I wasn't too eager, given what had happened to my parents, but I really had no choice. Uncle Henry lived on Long Island, and little did I know it, but I would spend the rest of my life living there,
The airline people gave me lot's of attention, especially when I told them I had become an orphan the day before.
There was one staff member who I really liked. Her name was Maria. She was around my age now, maybe forty-five or fifty. She had brown hair and green eyes, and crinkles around her head that tell you she smiled a lot. Her voice was soft and gentle, and she made me think of my own mother.
I vowed, on that plane, to become just like her when I grew up.
At the airport, I waited for my Uncle. For the record, I had never met him. He lived all the way out here, and my family was too poor to fly very often.
"Sally?"
I turned to find my Uncle behind me. I recognized him from photos my mother showed me. But I still wasn't prepared.
He seemed cold. And lifeless. His eyes bore into mine, his crew cut hair a dead brown. He was strong and muscular, and wore a black shirt with black pants. What was with all the black stuff?
Oh. Right. My aunt.
I'll never know if he was always like this or if my aunt's death had changed him.
He took my suitcase and took me out to the car. I was allowed to take very little, our house and most of the items in it were going to be sold.
His house was huge. I couldn't understand why he needed to sell our house. Heck, I didn't understand why he hadn't given my family money in the first place. I mean, family is there to help, right?
Anyway, the house was a mansion, with brown paint. It was two stories tall, but it had a tower. The windows were stained glass, and the porch held a swinging chair. It sat on the lake, and it had a beach. There was a tire swing on a big oak tree in the yard. I couldn't wait to sit on it. That is, if my uncle would let me.
The inside of the house was grand, but not the sort of place a kid would like. The air was stuffy, and the furniture was all brown. There were vases everywhere, and flowers from sympathizers.
He showed me my room. Wouldn't you know, it's the tower! Which means I have to climb up 3 flights of stairs each day. Fun!
"Bathroom's over there. Breakfast is at seven, lunch is at twelve, and dinner is at seven. Don't wander around, stay in your room or don't be in the house at all. I don't want you breaking things."
How could a man like this be related to my mother?
I sat down on the bed and cried.