- Softcover
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In den WarenkorbArtikelbeschreibung vom Verkäufer
In English.
Bestandsnummer des Verkäufers ria9781462068975_new
- Titel
- Tecumseh's Artifact
- Autor
- Troughton, M. Ruth
- Verlag
- iUniverse
- Veröffentlichungsjahr
- 2011
- Zustand
- New
- Einband
- Softcover
- Sprache
- Englisch
- ISBN-10
- 1462068979
- ISBN-13
- 9781462068975
- Artikelgewicht
- 312 Gramm
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Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.
TECUMSEH'S ARTIFACT
By M. Ruth TroughtoniUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2011 M. Ruth TroughtonAll right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4620-6897-5
Chapter One
Ronnie's threw himself into the old soft chair sitting beside the small window in this part of the attic. The old B&mdash-- he began to shout, but before the words flew past his lips, he clamped his hand across his mouth and listened hard. Was that a creak from the old bare boards that ran out under the door? Maybe great Gran'dad had sneaked back up the stairs and was listening to find out what he was doing. Great Gran'dad may be over ninety but his ears and eyes are as good as any owls, ran through his mind.He scowled at the door. It looks like something that should be in a cowshed – old up and down boards with crosspieces in a Z shape holding it together. It isn't locked but it might as well be. That old devil is still strong and although he promised my dad that he wouldn't beat me, I'm not too sure he will keep his word. Just about everyone beat children for being bad when Great Gran'dad was young. One of my friends told me that when he heard I was being sent here.
Well anyway, this isn't a good time to test it – not while my shoulders are still stinging from those bony old fingers that practically lifted me up the stairs. I want to be out of here before dark!
His thoughts turned back to earlier in the day. All I did was to ride the neighbour's stupid horse. How was I supposed to know it was a dangerous stallion? It acted real friendly – well it did until it threw me over the fence. Adults are always taking the worst fits over nothing! I've taken riding lessons. When we lived in Austria, Mom and I went riding every week.
After a few minutes he felt his anger drain away and his natural curiosity kick in. Actually, he thought, this is kind of a cool room. He drew himself up in the old chair and began to look around. Through the small window behind him, light crept in, dim when clouds hid the sun. From here, he could see many lifetimes of the Rielly family's stored and forgotten junk, boxes, trunks and pieces of furniture. The stacks filled half of the long attic room and were piled to the hand-axed rafters. A dusty path wound through these small mountains to the other window in the far end.
Wade, his father had told him that at one time he had planned to set up an office at this end. "I had that skylight built into the roof but when I was offered a diplomatic post in Egypt, I never came back and finished it." He told Ronnie this when he had brought him here and they were looking through the old house, the first time Ronnie had seen it.
Good thing, Ronnie thought, without the skylight it would be really dark even in the daytime. The way the sunlight flickers through the leaves above and those shadows dancing on the walls are really spooky. I wonder how long he's going to keep me here –he was pretty mad after he'd told me to stay away from that horse.
Jerking his eyes from the light patterns, his mind circled back to his ragbag of complaints. They slid into his mind and brought back the anger. Why did I say I wanted to come here instead of the boarding school Dad wanted me to go to? Because you know what they're like, the nasty little voice in his head reminded him. Someone there would be watching you every minute – and you thought it would be easier here at a small town school.
During his father's posting in Vienna Ronnie had gone to the International School and heard other kids talking about boarding schools. Just about every child who had parents in the diplomatic corps had to spend time away from their families and they were sent to those places. Since his mother had died (why did it have to be her?) he hadn't seen much of his father anyway. He's too busy, or that's what he always says, Ronnie grumbled. Now he's in some African country for a whole year and I'm stuck here. There are another couple of reasons, eh? That annoying little voice was back again. What about Paris? And that trip to Jerusalem?
Really it was another case of too much fuss over nothing. The Paris thing was all Andre's fault, and Dad's. If he hadn't left me alone so much I wouldn't have climbed down that vine and met Andre. He was the wildest kid, way beyond cool. We were both ten then. I'll never forget the night he dared me to ride on the top of the subway car ...
A smile crept around the corners of Ronnie's mouth as he remembered. He let himself think for one moment of that wild roaring ride clutching the slippery bar on the car roof. I would've done it again, except they caught me as I climbed in through my bedroom window and the next day there were bars on it when I came home from school. What a row. And Jerusalem; I wasn't trying to start a war like they said. Some kids were throwing rocks at the police before I got there. And that crazy psychologist—with his "I'm your buddy act" – trying to find out why I was always in trouble. Sometimes I have to get out and run and trouble always seems to find me.
Ronnie jumped to his feet and walked up and down. Then he tiptoed over to the door and put his ear against a crack in the old rough boards. There was nothing on the other side but silence. He continued to finger over his complaints. As if I could tell the real reason! I bet lots kids have imaginary friends and so what if mine is a bear? I just wish he wasn't getting bigger, and scarier and closer. Ronnie shivered although the attic had felt hot when he had been shoved in there.
Doing dangerous things let him forget his fear for a while. He flung himself back into the chair and forced himself to think of something else. He hoped the old man hadn't forgotten him.
He thought of the two hundred years that had passed and all the members of his family who'd spent their lives in this house. The Riellys settled here when they had come across the Niagara River after the long trek from Boston. The American rebels had driven them away from there because they stood for the British king. That war back in the 1700s sent them looking for a country where the king of England still ruled. The place they'd found was here across the wild Niagara River – a land still British Territory.
Ronnie's mind moved to Uncle Jack who now ran the vineyard with a new house and winery. 'The Loyalist' they called it, built near the road that ran along the Niagara River gorge. He wasn't that fond of Uncle Jack. I have been here two weeks now, he thought, and I have only once been in the big house when Dad took me to see Mom's sister, Aunt Jen. She's sick most of the time. Great Gran'dad likes this old house where he was born and lived in it with Great Gran'mama for sixty-five years. No way would he move into the new house after she died.
When he had first seen Great Gran'dad's house, Ronnie had been surprised. Beside the awesome new house, this one looks like some old forgotten barn back at the end of the driveway with trees and bushes almost hiding the walls—and I'm going to be stuck here for a whole Year! For a second Ronnie felt like saying all that nasty words he knew – and tearing his hair out.
You would never think they had pots of money, Ronnie groused. I know Uncle Jack would give Great Gran'dad a television if he wanted one. He pictured the huge set in Uncle's house but he wouldn't be welcome to use it. Especially, since he'd turned on that tap last week looking for a drink of water. Wine shot out and he was ankle deep before he could get the tap turned off.
Boy, had Uncle Jack been mad! You'd think he didn't have...
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