Chapter 5

Chapter V

Patrick was running across the moors towards the church, taking in each breath as if he just resurfaced from underwater and letting it out in gasps. The church was at the other side of the village and was blocked by a tangle of houses from every viewpoint, leaving only small unnoticeable gaps to pass to it. It loomed over the adjacent buildings, its crisp, pristine white corners jutting out at right angles, adding a sort of contrasting beauty to the multicolored plants thriving in the vicinity. He could see it was evident that the inhabitants of the city took great pride in it, often holding momentous events in its wake. Still sprinting at full speed, he assessed how he could enter and decided to see if the road led to the back of the church. Each step felt like his feet were replaced with lead rods, but only the thought of Beatrice and Samuel made him go on. The crowd of people on the path was not thick to begin with, but petered out as the paved road became a dirt path then little more than a grass clearing.

Patrick stopped his flight, having noticed that the sounds of the village have faded away to nothing, and the constant ringing of the bell has been replaced by the ringing in his ear. He looked all around him, his breaths still ragged. Everywhere he looked, his eyes laid on acre after acre of farmland dotted with the occasional farmhouse or stable. The road had not come anywhere close to the church; rather it had led directly out of the village and traversed miles of farmland. He walked towards the edge of the road where a plethora of grapes dangling on prickly vines were perched on wooden stakes for support. He causally turned to grab a bundle of grapes for snacking.

“You did a stupid thing.” Patrick swiveled abruptly on his heel as he felt a hand land on his shoulder. He had just surveyed the land seconds ago, and had not seen a person in sight. Suddenly, his eyes groggily opened to a body standing over him, blocking his view of the wooden beams supporting the roof.

For a fraction of a second an image of Beatrice and him in the schoolhouse flashed across his eyes, but the demanding voice of the person jolted him back to reality.

“What?” Patrick groaned as his brain comprehended the reality: he was sleeping and was woken up by a man who he identified to be Mr. Arico, the husband in the couple. He seemed so kind when he first met him; now he seemed like he might be otherwise.

“You heard me. You did an enormously stupid thing by coming here, and you’re not going to do that again. Do you understand?”

Patrick was not one to stay blind in the eye of injustice. “I had to come here. It was the only way Beatrice had a chance of living!” He retorted.

          “The way I see it, it would have been better for the lot of us if she just died.” His face was contorted in anger, and he pronounced every word carefully, placing emphasis on the word died. “And next time,” he prodded Patrick’s chest, “I won’t make the mistake of saving her.” Paolo nearly growled at him, his voice rasping with his Spanish accent accentuating each word.

Patrick was so scared and puzzled at what happened that he barely noticed the violent tremors in Mr. Arico’s hands. ‘He’s frightened by me,’ thought Patrick. ‘Why?’ Getting up from the bed and ignoring the black spots dancing over his peripheral vision, he asked him in as stern a voice as an eleven-year-old can muster,

“But why are you suddenly so mad at us? What have we done to wrong you?”

Paolo nearly chuckled, suppressing the red blossoming in his cheeks. “Why? Why? Don’t act like you don’t know, little boy. Oh yes, I do know about your inheritance. And I promise to God that if I see you or your sister anywhere near this house, I will personally make sure that you are all dead as a stone. Now get out!”

Patrick ran out of the house and past a few blocks, then turned a left and kept on running. It wasn’t too long till he found himself far from the town, far away from the events of the whole day and into the vast expanse of farmland. He surveyed the land around him, still running, and for a second he thought he was dreaming again. Tears silently trickled down his cheek, not knowing and even sure if he wanted to know what was this ‘inheritance’ that compromised the man’s hospitality and ruined their best shot at recuperating and then finding Samuel before this mess got any more complicated. His face contorted as he realized that he was all alone in this game right now.

Just like Beatrice.

Author's Note

Hope you like it! As usual, comments and reviews are much appreciated