Читать книгу The Lost Gargoyle Series 3-Book Bundle - Philippa Dowding - Страница 10

Decisions

Morning sun pierced through the bottom of the window blind deep into Katherine’s room.

It was very cold, and she woke with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed. The events of the night before came flooding back to her.

She fell back onto the pillow and groaned. She couldn’t begin to think what her parents were going to say when they noticed her shoes among the ruined flowers.

It was Saturday, so both of them were at home. She listened carefully and could hear them both moving around in the kitchen below her, getting breakfast ready, just like any ordinary Saturday morning.

They were letting her sleep in! She wasn’t in trouble yet, which could mean only one thing: they hadn’t noticed the damage.

She was wondering what she was going to say to them. What could she possibly say? The truth seemed like a big, ridiculous lie. And, in a completely confusing and unfair twist, a lie would sound so much more like the truth.

Katherine ran through a few possibilities:

“Mom, I was really mad that I had to stay after school, so I stomped your flowers.”

No, that was no good.

“Mom, I really hate the dinner you made me last night, so I stomped your flowers.”

No, that wouldn’t work either.

“Mom, the gargoyle did it.”

Hopeless. Utterly hopeless.

She was looking up at the light above her bed when a blood-curdling scream filled the house.

“OH MY GOSH! NOT MY FLOWERS! HANK, THE FLOWERS! LOOK AT THEM! THEY’RE RUINED!”

She heard the back door open, then slam. Then silence.

Without getting up to look out the window, she knew her parents were frantically running across the lawn to look at the damage. She also knew without looking that the gargoyle was sitting scrunched up on his pedestal, statue-like, watching the fun. Grinning, most likely.

Quite unexpectedly, Katherine felt a flash of hot anger flood her body. Why should that stupid gargoyle treat her family so badly? Why should he get away with it and make it look like she had done it?

Why? She suddenly knew what she had to do.

She got out of bed and slowly descended the stairs to the kitchen. She walked to the back door and silently opened it for her parents as they solemnly marched back into the house, too shocked to speak to her or to each other.

Neither of them was looking at her. Instead, they sat at the kitchen table and stared at their hands.

Katherine turned off the forgotten stove, where the pan was beginning to smoke, and turned to them.

“Mom, Dad,” she began boldly, “I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking I stomped all over your flowers in my new shoes.”

She looked at them for encouragement. They were both looking at her now with nearly blank expressions. But at least they were listening. She pressed on.

“It looks bad, I know,” she continued, “but I swear to you I didn’t do it. I’m going to tell you the truth,” she hesitated and bit her lip, “only it’s going to sound kind of crazy.”

At the word “crazy”, her mother’s head shot up and her mouth opened. She was looking hard at Katherine with a funny, dazed expression on her face. She was barely breathing.

“You know, you know...” Katherine trailed off.

What am I afraid of? she asked herself. It’s the truth. I have to tell it, I have to get them to believe me. They’re my parents, after all. They will believe me, won’t they? She took a deep breath and started again.

“Mom, Dad, the gargoyle did it,” she blurted out finally. She breathed out deeply and looked her parents in the eyes. It felt good to tell the truth, no matter how crazy it sounded.

Her parents did two different things at the same time. Her father burst out laughing. Her mother, however, groaned, then dropped her head into her hands and started crying.

Neither Katherine nor her dad was expecting that. They both rushed to her mother’s side.

“What is it, Mom?” Katherine asked.

“What is it, Marie?” asked her dad, looking worried. They pulled up chairs and sat beside her, trying to comfort her.

She was muttering through her hands. “Not that stupid gargoyle! It can’t be! Not again!”

Katherine’s dad was clearly worried about his wife, but Katherine started to wonder what her mother knew. Or thought she knew.

She decided to try a new tack with her mother. She pressed a cup of tea into her mother’s hands and put her hand gently on her shoulder.

“Mom,” she said quietly, “where did you get that gargoyle? I mean, you seem to believe me that it was him, and I’m really glad you do, but you must know that he’s...” she stopped. She couldn’t bring herself to say it.

“Alive?” her mother said suddenly, snapping her head up to look Katherine in the face. “Yes! I know he’s alive, Katherine...”

Katherine and her dad stared at her in silence. The room stayed perfectly quiet for what seemed like an eternity. Katherine could hear the kitchen clock above her mother’s head ticking louder than ever before. The fridge motor buzzed around them like a car alarm.

Then her father finally spoke. “Marie,” her father said gently, clearly making an effort to speak calmly. “Can you start at the beginning? Where did you get the gargoyle?”

Her mother had calmed down a bit in the long silence, having finally admitted to her family that she knew the gargoyle was a living creature. She blew her nose loudly, took a sip of tea, then started with her story.

“Okay, okay. I can’t hide it any longer.” She sighed. “It all started about a month ago, while I was walking to work at the agency office. You know I walk past The Golden Nautilus comic bookstore every day?” She looked at Katherine and her husband for encouragement.

They both nodded at her.

Katherine’s dad said, “Go on, honey.” It occurred to Katherine that this must sound really crazy to her poor dad, so she leaned in to him and let him know she loved him, too. Good old Dad. What must he think of his crazy daughter and wife?

“Well, one day I noticed there was this little gargoyle sitting in the window. I liked the look of him. He was kind of sweet looking. I dunno, just like he was thinking about something or looking off into the distance for someone. Anyway, I started to smile at him every day when I went by. Sounds crazy, I know, but you know I like statues...” Her mother smiled at them weakly, took a steadying sip of her tea and continued. “Some days I would wave at him, some days just smile. Then one day I said “Hi there” to him as I walked past, and he stuck his tongue out at me!” She started to get upset at this point, so Katherine’s dad rubbed her shoulder and told her to go on.

“I know, Mom, he stuck his tongue out at me last night, too. He’s really rude!” said Katherine, helpfully. Again, her mother smiled at them and got a little braver. She went on with her story:

“I told myself that gargoyles DO stick their tongues out to drain water off rooftops. Gargoyles are drainspouts, at least they were ages ago. I thought he might have stuck his tongue out at me because he was really spouting water…”

“Spouting water, Mom? I haven’t seen any water coming out of his mouth,” Katherine said, unconvinced.

“No, I suppose I haven’t either. But it could be a gargoyle reflex or something, sort of like sneezing? I didn’t know what else to think… ” Katherine’s mother sighed. She took another sip of tea, and continued.

“Well, this went on for days. I’d look at the window, and there he’d be. I’d tell myself I was hallucinating, and it was just in my mind, so I’d keep walking. Just when I thought I’d imagined it, and it wasn’t going to happen this time, he’d stick his tongue out at me again. Honestly, I thought I was going crazy! I’m so glad I’m not!” She turned to Katherine with a thankful look.

“Well, why did you buy him?” her father asked, a little bewildered. “I mean, if he was so rude and real and scary, why?” Her dad was floundering, clearly over his head at this point.

“Oh, I didn’t buy him. I stole him.”

Katherine and her dad both gasped.

“Mom! You stole him?” Katherine said, shocked.

“Well, actually, I guess I didn’t really steal him. It’s kind of confusing. It was a nice day a few days ago, you know. And I was walking past the store again, but this time he was sitting outside on the sidewalk. So as I walked by, I tried to ignore him, but sure enough he stuck his tongue out at me again. Well, that was it. I kind of snapped, I guess. I didn’t mean to, but I couldn’t help it. My foot just went out and I gave him a little tap with my toe. I had to see if he was alive, or what he was...”

“You mean you kicked him?” her father asked bluntly.

“Well,” she nodded sheepishly, “yeah. I guess I gave him a little kick. To see if he was real.” The three of them giggled nervously.

Her mother went on quickly after that, wanting to get the story over with.

“And being the creature he is, he couldn’t stand being kicked, so he started to follow me down the street, saying the most terrible things to me in his whispery voice! I tried to ignore him, I really did, but it was so weird having a gargoyle following me down the street talking to me, that suddenly I just reached back and grabbed him and stuffed him under my coat. I mean, I didn’t want anyone to see me being followed by a gargoyle! Then I realized I was stealing him, so I ran as fast as I could all the way home.”

“What did you do when you got home?” her dad asked.

“Well, I dropped him off in the backyard and have tried to ignore him ever since. I kind of hoped he would just go away.

“Well we have to get rid of him somehow, Mom. He’s mean. And tricky. And kind of scary.”

There was a long silence as the three of them thought about their situation. Just how, they were all wondering, do you get rid of a gargoyle?