I cannot believe that summer is almost gone. What a time this has been. Well, thank heavens that Brad and Eric are
both gone now. Pathetic. Both of them, shooting up in the common room
and smoking crack on the grounds and generally destroying the place. We’re still cleaning up the carnage. This isn’t much different, in some ways, from
when Madge and I were running that drop-in centre. But I think I’m getting rather old for all
this intensity and drama…
“For the first time
in my life, I haven’t got a home. Except
for this place, and I really don't know how long I can stay here. I am not complaining. The grounds are beautiful, the people are
wonderful, apart from those two young dumb-asses, but now they’re in police
custody. Threatening Chris with a knife
was not a wise career move. It seems
that I came here with the idea of getting better. Of recovering, then, the same day I arrive
here, Brad and Eric are already set to destroy everything. Well, I can hardly blame them for being
angry. Both aren’t even twenty and have
already survived their share of horror.
Like so many. It just seems the
nature of the times we are living in.
And Michael phoned last night, finally.
I could just strangle him right now.
Running away is not in character with him. At least he knows about the house, now.
“That house. They never saw the like, those courageous
firemen, all that remains, is a rectangle of smouldering charcoal. The tree survived. I brought over a bag of apples with me. Everyone thinks they’re just something
wonderful.
“I really would
like to try to live here for a while, if I can. Gladys and I just had a walk
together by the lake. She used to be a concert violinist. She still practices every day. She played for us after dinner Bach’s Air on
a G-String. Sublime. She says I should give it a chance here. That I try to make my home in this place.
Well, I don’t seem to have anywhere else to go.
“I’m a bit better
now. I just had another crying jag. Oh God almighty, that house, that house, that
beautiful, beautiful house. Thank
heavens Madge had some clothes for me.
Everyone has been just wonderful and very helpful and supportive. Poor Michael.
And Suzanne. And Jason. But Michael especially. He was particularly bonded to the house. I was just sitting on the white bench,
starting a new painting of the apple tree.
Then, like a serpent of fire, it came out from the apple tree and soon
the house was engulfed in flames. The
fire came from the tree. They found me
unconscious on the grass. They’re amazed
that the heat left me unharmed. The tree
still stands there, laden with fruit, as if nothing ever happened. I want to take an axe to the damn thing.
Suzanne wants me to
come stay with them. But Rebecca is a
very noisy kid. I love my grandchildren
but I can’t bear the thought of having to live with them. No.
This seems to be where I’m meant to be.
For now, anyway.
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