LeOmi's Solitude (8 page)

It was late; Grand-Mère and Hannah would be
home soon. LeOmi turned off the lamp and stepped out the door and
down the stairs to her little room on the first floor, the books
tucked under her arm.

* * *

Bekka came back to the room at eight o’clock,
just when dinner would begin. Disappointed, she saw that the book
was not there, LeOmi had taken it with her. Bekka pulled out her
note book and made notations and calculations. That shouldn’t be.
This isn’t right. She took the book, not just looked at it to
retrieve information. That isn’t right. What has happened to change
her? Is she now a thief? Is there any hope for her now? Distressed,
Bekka knew that she needed to hear what went on at dinner tonight.
She noted in her notebook: Success isn’t sure, in fact failure
seems likely.* * *
Confront Grand-Mère?
This seemed crazy,
maybe she should ask Hannah first and not Grand-Mère tonight. No it
has to be Grand-Mère, she had already been notified by Hannah from
the first day that whatever Grand-Mère wanted, that was the way it
would be done.

Salmon with butter, lemon, salt and pepper on
a bed of rice. Very simple recipe, yet so wonderful. The usual
routine for dinner, except once again when Grand-Mère’s coffee
came, LeOmi did not ask to be excused. Not yet.

“So, you wish to converse with me.”

“Yes.” LeOmi stared at Grand-Mère for a split
second then at her water glass.

“I know where you were this morning. You
spoke to Sergeant Polaris for a substantial amount of time, feeding
squirrels and what not. Then you returned to this house and set
about looking for answers to questions. Did you find what you were
looking for?”

LeOmi looked at her Grand-Mère with a blank
expression.

“Of course not. Or else you would not remain
in your chair for so long after dinner. I assume you must be
forming your questions, or getting up the nerve to tell me that you
have been in my library and removed some books from there.”

LeOmi found herself unable to speak, and then
she began to get angry. Who was doing the confronting here? Wasn’t
that what she had intended to do. She could hear Henry—Have I got
you riled up yet?
There were two ways to handle this, no
three.

Grand-Mère –waiting for a response simply
pursed her lips and folded her wrists over each other in her lap,
sat back and waited.

First I can just come out and ask her,
second I can wait and let her tell me—that doesn’t seem likely or
third I could get-up and leave.
“Sergeant Polaris had a signet
emblem that he thought you might have some information about. Also
he said there were things in my family’s past that he wouldn’t tell
me—that he thought it was something I should not hear from a
stranger.”

“Ah.” She unfolded her wrists and reached for
the cup of coffee. “And, for this information, what am I to learn
about you?”

“Me?”

“Yes you, my granddaughter, my piece of the
family that wants to take part in this family, but only on the
outside looking in. Will you run away, just like your mother when
you find the truth?”

“Well, I guess that all depends on what the
truth is.”

The lips pursed and she sat back and folded
her wrist across wrist again.

“Yes, the truth. You were in my library today
and removed two books, without permission.”

LeOmi stiffened. “I just borrowed them.”

“You borrowed them without permission. Return
them tomorrow, and then we will see if you are worthy to accept the
history of your family. Good night. I wish to finish my coffee
now.”

LeOmi stood, looking at Grand-Mère. “I will
return them tomorrow morning.” LeOmi turned and left the room.

Hannah had been listening. She shook her head
slowly from side to side. “What is going to happen to this
family?”

* * *

Bekka made notations in her notebook, closed
it and stared into the house, possibly for a longer time than she
should have, contemplating her next move, or if she should make
another move at all. It was time to go in and report what happened
today. She would take the blame for setting up the temptation, but
LeOmi was responsible for her decisions and her actions.

* * *

At first the dream was hazy, and then the
mountain came into view. Then she was at the gnarly tree in the
rocks and the sand. There was anger in the air. The girl with the
long dark pony tail and the tunic of the Magi was not facing
LeOmi.

“I told you that the Council had reservations
about you and then...” That night the dream was different from the
first. It was an unmistakable warning.

“There is no room for thieves at The Seventh
Mountain. There is still time to remedy the situation.”

* * *

The next morning, LeOmi’s routine was all
that kept her sane. When Sergeant Polaris finally pulled up to the
library in his unmarked detective’s car, she could barely contain
the eagerness to talk to him about most of the events of the day
before.

“It seems that you are walking backwards
instead of walking forwards. Listen, I guess we need to go our
different ways.”

“No!” She didn’t expect that. Henry wouldn’t
have abandoned her, would he? “I’m not going to stop. Not until we
know.”

“You know that I won’t stop.” He hesitated,
then looked around and said, “I surely won’t miss these
squirrels.”

She shrugged, touching her shoulder to her
chin, “I have a way with animals. They listen, and they don’t treat
you badly unless you treat them badly. They also tend to be less
demanding than people.”

“Whoa, always the pleasantries.” He turned
and walked back to his car. “You know how to get in touch with
me.”

* * *

Saturdays were a day of reflecting; checking
the past week to see what was missed before the new week began.
Since school had dismissed for the summer, and LeOmi no longer had
her job at the ranch, her work-outs and endurance exercises were
the first things done early each day, then library time. She
reviewed the notes that she had made from her late night study of
the books from Grand-Mère’s library.

The book
A Study in Sumerian Cuneiform
didn’t hold any answers. It was all information that she had
already gathered from her research at the library. There is just so
much to be said about an ancient language.

The book titled
Interactions between
Earth, Wood, Fire, Metal and Water
was more interesting.

This came from Buddhist beliefs, the classic
Chinese and Japanese culture elements from the Edo period. The
study of changing states of being or metamorphoses:

Earth represented things that were solid.

Water represented things that were
liquid.

Fire represented things that destroyed.

Air represented things that moved.

Heaven represented things not of our everyday
life.

But in a great house there are not only
vessels of gold and of silver, but also of wood and of earth; some
to honor and some to dishonor.

Wood parts earth; Wood feeds fire.

Earth absorbs water; Earth bears metal.

Water quenches fire; Water nourishes
wood.

Fire melts metal; Fire creates earth
(ash).

Metal chops wood; Metal collects water.

Rather like Henry’s Wheel of Life, everything
is joined together. Links in a chain, spokes on a wheel, God’s
Great Plan.
But what does this have to do with Sumerian
Cuneiform?

* * *

Bekka was in her usual place, keeping watch.
Dinners were becoming livelier and livelier.

“For two years you have lodged in this house,
my house. There have not been any conversations, no formal hellos
or goodbyes. Bonjour, au revoir! This is understandable. It took
your mother’s death for you to ask…anything.” She actually placed
her hand on her forehead briefly, and paused. “I am old.” Then
looking up at LeOmi, “I have distanced myself from you; we will
remedy that someday, but not today. Your family secrets will remain
family secrets until it is the proper time for them to come to the
light. Now is not the time.”

Disappointment was evident on LeOmi’s face.
She went to speak and Grand-Mère simply raised her hand and looked
away from LeOmi.

Hannah came in and laid the main course
plates. As always, first Grand-Mère then LeOmi. She turned and left
the room.

“Why am I such a disappointment to you? What
have I done, or not done that makes you dislike me so much?”

“I do not dislike you child.”

There it was. She felt the tears stinging the
back of her eyes. For a moment she saw her mother’s face, aged,
bitter and angry, but Grand-Mère was sure of herself, while mother
had desires to run away from her responsibilities, desires that she
gave into.

LeOmi said, “I’m not here for much longer.
When will be the time?”

“Well that depends on you doesn’t it.”

Once again the blame was put upon her. Was it
LeOmi or was it her mother that Grand-Mère was punishing?

“Why did my mother leave?”

“She met your father and he stole her
away.”

Grand-Mère picked up her spoon, “Enough!”

* * *

Bekka wrote “Stalemate” in her notebook and
underlined it. Neither LeOmi nor her Grand-Mère will relinquish
their personal treasures and traps to each other. They are truly
from the same blood, but time will tell, for both of them.

* * *

Over the next few months, life went on as
normal except that LeOmi trained harder. She still had all the
equipment that Henry had given to her and she had made a place in
the old stables among the empty horse stalls and the old carriage.
As long as she didn’t move or take anything she was sure that she
would not be bothered

LeOmi spent most of her other waking time
studying books that she had checked out from the parish library.
Sumerian history was interesting, but there weren’t a whole lot of
documents that were relevant. Most everything was financial
dealings, weddings, births, deaths and inventory of belongings
—from camels to pounds of salt.

The Journal that Yvonne Jones had purchased
was only partially translated but it had been considered just a
family chronicle. It was officially logged as: A Sumerian Cuneiform
Journal uniquely assembled with artistic nuances. It was on leather
and bound with fragile leather bindings. The remarkable thing was
that it had been reproduced during the time of the Spanish
Inquisition and the reproduction was the portion that had been
translated. Both books: the Sumerian Cuneiform Journal and the
translation had been a package deal but the original was still left
in the care of the Calcutta Library in India, until arrangements
could be made for its removal. So whoever she had purchased it for
was still waiting to remove it, probably because the police would
consider that person a suspect in her murder.

The Library of India was happy to continue to
lodge the original at its current location, but the replica was not
in the Calcutta Library. LeOmi’s mother had taken that with her
upon finalizing the bidding and payment. At present its whereabouts
were unknown.

The same questions were compounding with more
and more side questions. Did she steal the money from Compton? Will
he pick it up or will he kill whoever else goes to pick it up? Does
he have the other Journal? If not him, who? But it must be Compton.
He had the money, and after all, wasn’t that why she had gone away
with him? Or was it?

“There must be answers somewhere.”

Dad. Is this what she left for? To steal a
fortune to purchase an old book?

She expected to hear something from either
her sister or her brother, at least after she had been accepted to
The Seventh Mountain. Maybe they were staying away since it was a
conditional acceptance. I wonder how many students there were with
conditional acceptance. There are almost seven billion people in
the world; the ratio is probably not something that she wanted to
think about. She would make that one of her first questions if she
was allowed to ask questions.

* * *

The one week mark, before Orientation was
scheduled to begin, there was a book on her night stand when she
woke-up.
The Seven Pillars of Wisdom
and it looked like it
was well used. There was an olive twig placed on it. The
inscription read, “Proverbs of Wisdom to LeOmi from Bekka.
Congratulations! There was no copyright or date of publication
page. There wasn’t even an author or stamp. It was like it had been
compiled for someone—probably for Bekka or maybe by Bekka. So many
questions.

* * *

There were no lengthy goodbyes from anyone.
The Sergeant didn’t make an appearance. The last night at
Grand-Mère’s table was the same as usual—the cold shoulder
treatment, so LeOmi gave it right back, and Hannah had stopped
talking to her at all, since that night of the borrowing without
permission speech–probably on orders from Grand-Mère. Hannah might
have accidently told me something of the family’s past.

That night at dinner though, after LeOmi had
packed everything and placed her trunk and backpack by the door of
her room Hannah was wearing the broach, the broach she only wore on
special occasions.

* * *

She didn’t really know what to expect. Her
father had made the arrangements. In the early afternoon, just
after lunch there was a car waiting out front for her.

“Hi. I’m Benjamin. Your father and Bekka sent
me.” That was all she needed. He helped her with her trunk and she
got into the back seat of the custom made car. There was no special
markings and no auto manufacturer.

There was no one to see her off but he didn’t
mention that.

After they were in the car and he began to
drive he said, “Welcome, we are going to a secure location—and it
may take a while to get there. Do you know why?”