Received: from nobody by stodi.digitalkingdom.org with local (Exim 4.87) (envelope-from ) id 1cHY6p-0003WA-QV for lojban-newreal@lojban.org; Thu, 15 Dec 2016 07:38:15 -0800 Received: from [170.178.169.211] (port=48283 helo=dealperfection.com) by stodi.digitalkingdom.org with esmtp (Exim 4.87) (envelope-from ) id 1cHY6k-0003Ub-WB for lojban@lojban.org; Thu, 15 Dec 2016 07:38:14 -0800 Date: Thu, 15 Dec 2016 09:01:40 -0700 Content-Type: text/html; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit Subject: Costco-$50Reward survey: Enjoy yours over the Holidays-13768262 To: Mime-Version: 1 Message-ID: From: "Grace Nichols" X-Spam-Score: -0.4 (/) X-Spam_score: -0.4 X-Spam_score_int: -3 X-Spam_bar: / Untitled Document
I took up the rear, trying to figure out what I would say to Miss Peregrine when I met her. I was expecting to be introduced to a proper Welsh lady and sip tea in the parlor and make polite small talk until the time seemed right to break the bad news. Im Abraham Portmans grandson, I would say. Im sorry to be the one to tell you this, but hes been taken from us. Then, once shed finished quietly dabbing away tears, I would ply her with questions. I followed Dylan and Worm along a path that wound through pastures of grazing sheep before a lungbusting ascent up a ridge. At the top hovered an embankment of rolling, snaking fog so dense it was like stepping into another world. It was truly biblical; a fog I could imagine God, in one of his lesser wraths, cursing the Egyptians with. As we descended the other side it only seemed to thicken. The sun faded to a pale white bloom. Moisture clung to everything, beading on my skin and dampening my clothes. The temperature dropped. I lost Worm and Dylan for a moment and then the path flattened and I came upon them just standing, waiting for me.


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We, she had written. Those few who remain. It was a home for refugee I said. During the war A big house Thats good to know, my dad said, eyeing me. Promise me you wont go by yourself. All right, all right. Whats your interest in it, anyhow the man said. Its not exactly on the tourist maps. You must be after the room, said the man behind the bar, coming out to shake our hands. Im Kev and these are the fellas. Say hullo, fellas. Hullo, they muttered, nodding at their drinks. Kev handed my dad the keys to our rooms. Any questions, he said, you know where to find me. I have a question, I said. Whats a pissI mean, a priest hole The men at the bar burst into laughter. Why, its a hole for priests, of course! one said, which made the rest of them laugh even harder. I fished the emergency money Dad had given me from my pocket, figuring that a little extortion was a small price to pay to find the woman Id crossed the Atlantic to meet. I left the shop wearing a pair of rubber boots so large my sneakers fit inside and so heavy it was difficult to keep up with my begrudging guide. So, do you go to school on the island I asked Dylan, scurrying to catch up. I was genuinely curiouswhat was living here like for someone my age He muttered the name of a town on the mainland. What is that, an hour each way by ferry Yup. And that was it. He responded to further attempts at conversation with even fewer syllableswhich is to say, noneso finally I just gave up and followed him. On the way out of town we ran into one of his friends, an older wearing a blinding yellow track suit and fake gold chains. He couldnt have looked more out of place on Cairnholm if hed been dressed like an astronaut. He gave Dylan a fistbump and introduced himself as Worm. Worm Can we go now I said. They grumbled and dawdled a while longer, but pretty soon we were on our way, this time with Worm tagging along. Yank ! Dylan called. This way! I followed obediently. We abandoned the path to plow through a field of marshy grass. Sheep stared at us with big leaky eyes, their wool soggy and tails drooping. A small house appeared out of the mist. It was all boarded up. You sure this is it I said. It looks empty. Empty No way, theres loads of shit in there, Worm replied. Go on, said Dylan. Have a look. I had a feeling it was a trick but stepped up to the door and knocked anyway. It was unlatched and opened a little at my touch. It was too dark to see inside, so I took a step throughand, to my surprise, downinto what looked like a dirt floor but, I quickly realized, was in fact a shindeep ocean of excrement. This tenantless hovel, so innocent looking from the outside, was really a makeshift sheep stable. Quite literally a shithole. Oh my God! I squealed in disgust. Peals of laughter exploded from outside. I stumbled backward through the door before the smell could knock me unconscious and found the s doubled over, holding their stomachs. You guys are assholes, I said, stomping the muck off my boots. Why said Worm. We told you it was full of shit! I got in Dylans face. Are you gonna show me the house or not Hes serious, said Worm, wiping tears from his eyes. Of course Im serious! Dylans smile faded. I thought you were taking a piss, mate. Taking a what Joking, like. Well, I wasnt. The s exchanged an uneasy look. Dylan whispered something to Worm. Worm whispered something back. Finally Dylan turned and pointed up the path. If you really want to see it, he said, keep going past the bog and through the woods. Its a big old place. You cant miss it. What the hell. Youre supposed to go with me! Worm looked away and said, This is as far as we go. Why It just is. And they turned and began to trudge back the way wed come, receding into the fog. I weighed my options. I could tuck tail and follow my tormenters back to town, or I could go ahead alone and lie to Dad about it. After four seconds of intense deliberation, I was on my way.







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