*~*~*~*
Later that night as I sat on my bed, the sound of feet alarmed me again. I never had anyone visit after dark. The door unlatched. I held my breath. Scylla strutted in. I never thought I’d be happy to see her in my room.
Her words were slurred. “You’ve no idea the trouble you’ve caused me.”
I stared at her.
“Your father and I were doing your mother a favor taking you in.”
“It’s not as if she asked me.”
“There’s nothing you can do to pull us apart, try as you might.”
“I haven’t done anything.”
“Why did you say those things about me this afternoon? The world isn’t all about you, Shale Snyder.”
How could one person have so many different moods? She was like a cat with nine lives—nice one minute and spiteful the next, except I had ended up with the jealous cat life.
“Why don’t you answer my question, why did you say what you did about Daniel and me?”
“I assumed because you were spending so much time alone with him.”
“It wasn’t that much,” I muttered.
“You aren’t as smart as you think you are. Even if you were brilliant, you should credit it to your father, which you seem reluctant to do. Your mother is unfit to be your mother.”
I balled my hand under the blanket into a fist. Too bad I couldn’t throw a book at her, but they weren’t yet invented.
“I’ve heard all about her,” Scylla continued. “And you’re just like her.”
“What gall you have to make such accusations.”
“I’ll stand by your father and defend him in every way I can.”
“Fine,” I said. “Kudos to him.”
“Your mother and father have deceived you,” she continued. “Your stepfather, that is. Brutus sent you wonderful gifts. Don’t you know they broke them?”
“That’s not true,” I argued. “I opened all of them. Some of them Remi tried to fix, after they got married.”
“You couldn’t remember that. You were too young.”
“They just got married. I gave him the one from last year.” What was the use? I studied the blanket on my bed. I used all the self-control I could muster to hold back saying something I might regret later.
We existed in different worlds. Who was in the real world, her or me? Did my father even love me? Scylla had no way of knowing about the broken gifts unless he told her. I rubbed the egg in my dress pocket underneath the blanket.
“What are you thinking?” Scylla asked. “Speak to me.”
“Why? You don’t like me, you don’t believe anything I say, and you make up stories about me that aren’t true.” I turned my back to her.
“You’re right,” Scylla said. “And you will pay for it. I control everything having to do with your father. I speak for him and write his letters. He’s very busy.”
She tossed her head defiantly and strutted to the door. “I can even make it so you don’t see him again.” She yanked the door behind her.
Did I want to know the truth? Maybe it was all too painful. What was Scylla’s motive for coming to see me—to hurt me, to make me hate my mother and stepfather? Maybe my father left because of something she said about me. Maybe that’s why he didn’t come back. I didn’t trust her. I reached for my reed-pen and started writing.
“Help me, king of the garden, to know the answers.”
Chapter 31
SOJOURN OF THE AGES