Chap 8 Sisters at Heart

by Shin

 

 

 

Charles turned the Rolls into the driveway and they glided noiselessly through the grove of Oak trees with their long crooked branches and parasitic plants that hung from its frame. The leaves were bright green in the light of the mid-day.

They arrived at the white stucco cottage at the end.

Rebecca stood at the door, her long red hair now mixed with gray. She wore a white cotton blouse on blue faded jeans.

“ He didn't go for it,” Florence announced as she approached the door.

Rebecca motioned with her fingers turned inwards and asked her to go in.

“ You have a bad habit of talking in front of the help,” she chided her as she poured two tall glasses with fruit juice and guided Florence to the back porch.

The house felt cool under the oak trees.

“ Arthur is a 7. That's the birthday character. He cannot be cultivated but is fair the way he views himself and others. Tell yourself we didn't expect to convince him all at once.”

“Yeah, okay,” said Florence as she settled into the wrought iron chair. “ I wish you would tell me these things before hand,” she appealed.

“ I shouldn't,” said Rebecca,” it engages your mind in the play and it won't work out properly.” Then she added, “ besides I'm working to merge with Calliope, that's an important muse. She's all that took place in time before today. And she's very fussy about procedure and learning. Her knowledge needs to be institutionalized in the world.”

“ Yeah, okay,” replied Florence. “ I'm all flushed.”

Rebecca went back into the cottage and returned with a leaf. She handed it to Florence.

“ Just touch your cheeks with that and hold it there for a while.”

Florence brought it to her face and asked, “ What is it?”

“Bryophyllum,” she replied. “ It's great for the complexion. Perks you up.”

She sat down again and reached for her fruit juice.

“Sara's coming in about an hour,” she announced. “ Maybe with a boyfriend.”

“Tell her to come over here,” Rebecca suggested.

“ She going to visit Mike, then maybe come to the house in the late afternoon.”

“ What's he like?” she asked.

“ Came back from Iraq and is with the Jefferson Police..... speaks well and …. cares about her.”

“ Bi-sexual,” Rebecca announced.

Florence made a face.

“ I dunno,” she said in a whisper.

Rebecca excused herself, picked up the Glock automatic from the table and took a few steps forward into the garden. She aimed at the trees, fired and put down two crows.

“Damm pests!” she said when she returned to the table. “ I'm being hounded by the old fellas who practiced this before. Some of the weirdest tools that they engaged.”

Florence brought the Bryophyllum back to her cheeks.

“I...I....wish you wouldn't do that when I'm around,” she complained. It's wrecking my nervous condition.”

“ Okay, we'll have to plan our next move,” she said. “ Arthur needs to be convinced. It's as simple as that. If he sees the logic in it, even high water will not move him.”

“ I could drive down to Daniel Stove,” Florence offered. “ They have a green house.”

“Daniel Stove is an idiot,” she announced summarily. “ He built a orchid conservatory. It has to be a tropical setting, with plants and flowers. We're here in 80 degree sub-tropical conditions but we don't get enough humidity. A woman needs that. Tropical plants exude a passion that we can draw into our bodies. They are more evolved.”

“ Well, in that case, I could get a humidifier,” Florence remarked.

“What's doc saying?”

“ It's the early stages....takes the carcinogen six months to fully develop.”

“We got time,” Rebecca announced. “ Stay with the diet I gave you. It'll slow it down. Does the lump move?”

Florence reached for her left breast and squeezed.

“ No,” she responded.

 

“Okay,” she replied.

“I've a customer coming in at one. You're welcome to stay.”

“No, I have to get back.”

They finished their juice and walked back to the front door.

“ I'll call you,” Rebecca told her.

“Oh, by the way,” Florence suddenly remembered. “ Arthur wants the embarcadero project. He wants to use the garden to trade with Travis.”

“Well, well, well,” Rebecca responded. “ The good lord provides.”

Florence turned back again.

“Why are we Catholics and everybody else is Protestant?” she asked.

“Because Joe Willard I was Catholic and that is why he stipulated in his will that no female child or descendent will manage his wealth.”

“Why is that?” she asked.

“Because his mother crucified him.”

“Oh...right,” Florence replied and handed back the Bryophyllum leaf.

“Keep it,” her sister commanded, then with a wave of her hand, called Charles over to help Florence. She was weak in the knees. Charles supported her arm all the way to the car. Then they turned and left.

 

 

 

Reviews

[Marie]

You've brought in some new and interesting characters. Good chapter.