Cutler 04 - Midnight Whispers

stood there holding hands, watching it disappear down the driveway. Suddenly, I was chilled. Twilight had come like a quickly dropped shade and deepened all the shadows around us.
    "There you are, children," Aunt Bet cried from the front door. "You two just have to come back inside and man your stations," she declared.
    "We're both tired, Aunt Bet," I said, still holding on to Jefferson's hand and walking past her. "We're going upstairs now."
    "Oh—but, dear, what about all the new people who have just arrived?" she cried despondently. She grimaced as though our absence would be the real tragedy of the day.
    "I'm sure they'll understand," I said quietly. "As should you."
    "But . . ."
    We walked, heads down, and made our way quickly up the stairway as if we really didn't belong, orphans in our own home.
    I took Jefferson to my room, knowing he wouldn't want to be alone. The noise and commotion downstairs continued for hours. Not long after we had retired, Bronson Alcott came up to see us. He knocked on the door and poked his head in when I asked who was there. Jefferson had fallen asleep beside me on the bed, but I could only lie there, my eyes open, staring at the ceiling.
    "Oh, I didn't want to wake you," he said, retreating.
    "It's all right, Bronson. Please, come in," I said, sitting up and running my fingers through my hair. He stepped into the room and smiled at Jefferson.
    "Poor little tyke," he said, shaking his head. "It's not easy for anyone, but for him, it's especially hard. I remember how hard it was for me to lose my mother, and I was quite a bit older."
    "How did she die?"
    "She contracted a blood cancer," he said sadly. "And left you to look after your crippled sister?"
    I recalled some of the details Mommy had once told me. He nodded. And now he's looking after poor Grandmother Laura, I thought sadly. "How's Grandmother?" I asked.
    "She's all right. I left her with the nurse," he said, "so I could come up here to see you two."
    "Does she understand what's happened?" He nodded softly.
    "She goes in and out, remembering, then forgetting . . . maybe she's better off. Maybe it's the mind's way of protecting itself against so much sorrow."
    "You have your hands full," I said.
    "That's what your mother used to say," he replied, smiling. "Laura Sue wasn't always like this, you know. She was once a vivacious, energetic, sparkling woman, full of excitement and laughter, tormenting every man in sight."
    "Mommy told me. Bronson," I said after a moment, "you know so much about this family, do you think there's truly a curse on it?" I asked.
    "A curse? Oh no, not a curse, despite all this. Don't think that way. I'm sure you will live up to your parents' expectations and do wonderful things," he said reassuringly. Numbly, I shook my head.
    "I don't want to do wonderful things anymore. Without Mommy . . ."
    "Nonsense now, Christie. You must continue your pursuit of music more than ever," he instructed firmly. "You must do it for her, as much as for yourself."
    "But I can't help feeling I'm destined to fail, that these dark clouds . . ."
    He knitted his eyebrows together.
    "Christie, fate can be cruel sometimes, but it is also fate that has given you your talent. Think of that. Fate sends us down a road, sometimes good, sometimes bad, but if it sends us down a good road and we ignore it or reject it, we are bringing our own curses down on ourselves. Be all that you are capable of being. You have an obligation now to do so," he warned.
    I nodded. He was so firm, so strong. No wonder Mommy loved and admired him, I thought. And then a new and wonderful idea blossomed.
    "I don't want to live with Uncle Philip and Aunt Bet," I said, "and neither does Jefferson."
    "I understand, but they have first claims on being your guardians and with them having to move in here and all, it makes the most sense. It won't be easy, not for a while, maybe not ever, but you're at least with people who care about you and love you. I'm sure Philip will be as much of a father to you and Jefferson as he is to his own children," he said. He saw the disappointment in my face.
    "I wish . . . I wish I could take you two to live with us, but I'm afraid my home is not the best environment for two young people right now. Laura Sue is an invalid most of the time, and although she loves you, whenever she has clear enough thinking to do so, she would be only a burden to you as well."
    "I'd be willing to accept that," I said quickly. He smiled.
    "It's