Mr. Linden's Library

A short story about unconditional love.

Patti woke up early as usual, to the sound of her baby sister wailing in her crib. She stepped into the bathroom and pulled her thick brown hair into a blue scrunchie.  Another busy day awaited her - she’d better get moving. 

She went downstairs and into the kitchen of her Bucks County home.  Her neighborhood wasn’t much to look at, but her family was fortunate to have the best neighbors in the world.  That’s what her father always said: “Patti-cake, we have the best neighbors in the world!” He said this whenever her brother Jimmy went wandering off, and a kind Fairland Street resident would escort him home. 

  Even though he was 23 years old, Jimmy had never grown up. Mentally, he was five - and would always be. It was Patti’s responsibility to look after him, keeping him safe and entertained after school and on weekends while her parents worked and took care of Savanna. Her classmates thought it was funny that Patti was the one that had to “babysit” - she was 14, nine years younger than her charge. Patti, however, did not see the humor in the situation. 

Today was Friday. Patti inwardly checked her day’s agenda - math class, English, science, then Stations. It was Lent, a time of sacrifice in the Catholic faith. Not much different from any other time, Patti thought ruefully. 

“At least I get to go to the library today,” Patti consoled herself. Every Friday after school, rain or shine,  Patti would walk to the Tender Loving Care Center where Jimmy spent his days learning to sort and count, practicing is ABC's over and over, and painting pictures which Mrs. Lanzo hung on the refrigerator as if Jimmy were a modern-day Picasso. 

The Corbin Street Library was in an old building half a mile from the Lanzo home. It smelled of ancient paper and coffee - there was a Keurig machine set up for patrons to use - and Patti could feel the secrets tucked into each book, waiting to be discovered. 

The head librarian was a man named Charles Linden. He was 71 years old, a retired history teacher. He treated the books in his library as if they were precious gems, each volume the Hope Diamond. He kept the shelves meticulously clean and organized, and handled each book lovingly. 

The children who came into Mr. Linden’s library were welcomed by his friendly smile and shining eyes. He greeted each of the “regulars” like a grandfather welcoming a favored grandchild. Patti looked forward to Friday afternoons as much for the warm camaraderie of Mr. Linden as for the books which would help her escape from her life for a while. 

At 3 o'clock Patti entered the Care Center to sign Jimmy out for the day. Her brother beamed, jumped up and grabbed her in a bone-crushing bear hug. “Patti-cake is here!” he whooped. 

  “Hey, Bud,” Patti said, “let's get your backpack and go see Mr. Linden.” 

  “Yay!” Jimmy loved Mr. Linden. He always had organic lollipops, and set aside picture books for Jimmy to look at while Patti wandered through the stacks.

    As they left the Care Center, a steady rain started to fall. Patti, carrying Jimmy's Ninja Turtles backpack, had to jog to keep up with her brother, who seemed determined to find every puddle between the Center and the library so he could splash in it. He stopped only once to pick a new daffodil from the edge of Mrs. Travino's yard. He held it to his sister. “Here, Patti!” and continued splashing.

    Jimmy was always picking flowers, and sometimes weeds, to give to Patti. She knew he didn't know any better, but it still irritated her. What was she supposed to do with them all?

    By the time they reached the library it was pouring. They went through the glass doors, glad to be leaving the deluge behind them. Mr. Linden was standing by the Keurig brewing himself a cup of Wawa decaf. “Ah, the lovely Lanzos!” Mr. Linden sang out. “I was just thinking about you two. Jimmy, I have a new Ninja Turtles book for you today.”

  Jimmy went with Mr. Linden to the round table in the children's section. Patti was grateful to the librarian for giving her this break every week. He made sure to keep Jimmy busy for at least an hour every Friday. It was bliss for Patti to be unencumbered by any responsibility for those 60 minutes a week.

    Patti made her way into the section of the library where the new arrivals were kept. She pulled one from the shelf, read the description on the back, and reshelved the book. Patti would read anything, and would in all likelihood read this book eventually, but today she had a certain type of novel in mind. Today she wanted to read a fantasy - something that would completely remove her from her life. A story that would captivate her for hours, one in which there was no school, no homework, no burden of a handicapped brother.

    She reached into the shelf again. A thick volume had caught her eye. The binding was black, with red and gold lettering on the cover. Song of the Phoenix. The author’s name, Lars Denlenich, was unfamiliar to her. The photo on the cover showed a thirtysomething, bearded man, his face partly obscured in shadow. The blurb on the back said simply, Song of the Phoenix: a fantasy like no other.

Patti took the book to the nearest overstuffed chair. She didn't even stop to get her usual cup of hot apple cider from the Keurig. She was eager to dive into this book, a story “like no other”. 

    She opened Song of the Phoenix, reveling in the crackle of the new binding. By the end of page one, Patti was hooked. She was transported into the world woven by Lars Denlenich, a beautiful, heavily foliated wood, rife with creatures and fauna never seen in the world Patti inhabited.

    Entranced by Denlenich's tale, Patti didn't realize how late it was getting. After an hour and a half, Mr. Linden found her curled up in the chair, engrossed in the book.

    “Hey Pat, I certainly don't mind you being here, but I know how worried your mother gets when you’re late...” His voice trailed off as he noticed the book in her hands. “Where did you get that?” He asked, eyes narrowing. 

    Patti looked up from the pages. “It was on the new arrivals shelf,” she answered. “Just what I was looking for. I can’t put it down. This Lars Denlenich is a magician with words!”

  At the word “magician”, the old librarian backed away, as if the word had heat in it that would burn his skin if he stood too close. Patti saw his expression, his face pale. “Mr. Linden?”

    “Patti, please stop reading that book,” he pleaded. “Take any other book you want - just, please, leave that one here.”

    “I don't understand,” Patti began. She was interrupted by a loud crash coming from the other side of the room.

    Patti and Mr. Linden looked in the direction of the noise, to the Keurig station, where Mr. Linden kept an eclectic collection of mismatched mugs. Jimmy was standing next to the wall of mugs, grinning sheepishly. Pieces of a blue Life-is-Good mug were scattered on the tile around his sneakers. 

    Mr. Linden called to Jimmy. “I’ll get that, Son - don’t touch the pieces.” As he started towards the closet to get the dustpan, he said to Patti, “Just leave that book on the table. I’ll put it where it belongs.” He moved quickly to the Keurig station, where Jimmy was still standing among the shards of broken coffee mug.

Patti was confused by the brief conversation with the librarian. What reason could he possibly have for not wanting her to read this book? She was intrigued, and, even more compelling, she was already captivated by Song of the Phoenix. 

Boldly, Patti took the heavy book and stuffed it into Jimmy’s backpack. She hurried over to where Jimmy stood, contentedly sucking on a mango lollipop and watching Mr. Linden toss the last of the mug pieces into the trashcan. “C’mon, Jimbo, time to go home. Say thank you to Mr. Linden.” She barely gave him time to sing out “Thank you, Mr. Linden!” as she pulled him out the door and onto Corbin Street. 

The rain had slowed to a drizzle. Patti used the weather as an excuse to hasten from the library. “Let’s go, Jimbo! I’ll race you home!” She was hoping that it would take Mr. Linden at least until they made it home to discover that the book was missing. 

  When they arrived at their front door, they stamped their feet on the mat and stepped into the dry foyer. Mrs. Lanzo was in the kitchen, taking a bubbling lasagna out of the oven. “You’re late. Did you have a good day?  Set the table, will you?” she called to Patti. 

“Hi, Mom. Today was fine...” she began to lay out the plates, napkins and flatware. Her mind was on the book in Jimmy’s backpack. She didn’t know if it was because Mr. Linden didn’t want her to read it, or if it was the fascinating chapters she had already read, but she could not get it out of her mind. 

Patti fidgeted all through dinner.  When she was finally able to get away, she retrieved Song of the Phoenix from her brother’s bag and headed to her room. She had left Jimmy in the family room, sorting stenciled alphabet letters and watching a Spongebob video. Her mother had left for her shift at the hospital, and Mr. Lanzo was grading essays at the kitchen table. He was “in the zone”, scrutinizing the content and grammar of his students’ work, and mumbling under his breath. He would be busy for hours. 

Patti settled onto her bed, propped up with several pillows. She opened Song of the Phoenix and was again transported into Fontelnate, the mystical forest of Denlenich’s masterpiece. 

She was so engrossed that once again, she was not aware of the passage of time. She fell asleep with the novel open on her bed. 

The next day, Patti slept late. It was Saturday - for most teenagers, sleeping until 10 a.m. was normal. For Patti, it was an anomaly. She usually got up by 7 so her mother could get some sleep. She would feed Savanna and read to Jimmy while their father started the laundry and wrote his lesson plans for the following week. 

Today, however, Mrs. Lanzo was already up, flipping pancakes as Patti walked into the kitchen. “I’m sorry, Mom. I had no idea how late it was.” She went to the refrigerator for orange juice and sat down at the table. She had an uneasy feeling that she could not identify. 

“No worries, Sweetie. I got home early - they overscheduled again, so I just finished some paperwork and came home. I figured you needed a break.” 

“Oh. Uh-huh.” Patti nodded absently. She was not really listening to her mother; she was a world away, in Fontelnate. 

“Honey? Are you feeling OK?”

“Huh? Oh, sure Mom. I’ve got a - a school project on my mind.” Patti was not accustomed to lying to her mother, and it did not come easily. She was sure her mother would see through her, but by now, Mrs. Lanzo was preoccupied with a book of wallpaper samples. 

“Well, don’t forget, you promised Jimmy you’d take him to the playground today. It was the first thing he said when he bounced out of bed this morning.” 

A half-hour later, Patti and Jimmy were at the playground, Patti sitting on a bench clutching Song of the Phoenix, Jimmy bolting around the monkey bars, counting. Patti longed to lose herself in Fontelnate, but this was too distracting. “Jimmy! Quiet, will ya?” 

Jimmy stopped running mid-lap, bounded over to the bench, and held his hands up, palms out, for a double high-five. Patti obliged, sighing; she would get no more reading done here. 

By mid-afternoon, they were headed home. “Water ice?” Jimmy asked as they passed the neighborhood Rita’s. He adored the cold, cherry flavored ices they sold, often devouring it until he got a brain-freeze. 

“Maybe later, Jimbo.” Patti did not want to stop, eager to get home for some solitude. 

Lars Denlenich had described Fontelnate in perfect detail, and Patti was just starting to know the creatures that lived there. In the playground, before Jimmy had interrupted, she had read an elaborate depiction of a creature called the Senza Cuore. It was the first thing she encountered in Fontelnate that was not beautiful or noble. The Senza Cuore thrived on hatred; it drew its tremendous strength from the fear and discontent of others. It was unsettling - and yet Patti was anxious to get back to it. 

Jimmy chanted, “Maybe later Jimbo!  Maybe later Jimbo!” as they walked the five blocks from the playground to their house. He paused at a patch of grass near the corner and grabbed a fistful of purple smartweed. He hopped back to his sister and presented the weeds to her like a bouquet. “Thanks, Jim,” she sighed.

As soon as they were inside, Patti headed upstairs. “Gotta work on that project,” she called to her parents, who were looking at paint samples in the dining room. 

    Within minutes, she was back in Fontelnate, reading about the wild vines and poisonous flowers the Senza Cuore used to lure its victims. Transfixed, Patti did not notice the single leaf that sprouted from the center of the book. Her eyelids grew heavy, and a sickly-sweet scent filled the air. One leaf became two, then three...  The vine crept out and spread over the pages.

    Patti tried to move her arms to close the book, but found that she was unable to move her limbs. Panicking, she tried to call out but could make no sound. She was terrified. Patti recalled her cryptic conversation with Mr. Linden. He had warned her about the book; now it was too late. 

    After what seemed an eternity, Patti realized that she was mobile again - but she was no longer lying on her bed. She was in a deep wood, surrounded by all kinds of strange botanical specimens. It was spellbinding, eerie and beautiful at the same time. Suddenly, the silence was broken by a blood-curdling shriek. 

    When she turned toward the scream, she was face to face with the Senza Cuore. Though she had never seen a picture of the beast, there was no doubt in her mind. She felt cold, and was overcome with a feeling of dread. 

    Patti was rooted to the spot where she stood. She knew from reading the book that the monster would not - could not - let its prey go until it was destroyed from the inside out. This was the nature of the Senza Cuore - to take away all joy, all love and security, and leave only an empty shell. 

    Patti was startled by a loud whisper. “I can distract it, but only for a minute. When I do, you have to run toward my voice.” 

    A white dove appeared in the air as if thrown from the direction of the voice. “Now! Run this way!” 

    Patti snapped into action, bolting toward her rescuer as the Senza Cuore turned its attention from her to the dove. In that instant, the creature grabbed the bird from midair, crushing it in its immense, leathery claws.

   Now Patti was running next to the man who had sacrificed the dove. When they reached the outskirts of the forest, they came to a homey-looking cottage. It was a welcome sight, but seemed incongruous in these dark woods that was the home of such evil.

The man led Patti into the cottage, where a fire was burning and a teakettle was on the stove. As the man went to prepare the tea, Patti took in her surroundings. 

    Bookshelves covered every wall. Two reclining chairs sat in front of the fireplace, a rustic wooden table between them. “Sit, please,” the man said. Patti sat down in the chair nearest the door. The man put a cup of herbal tea on the table next to her and took a seat in the other recliner. 

    The man turned to face Patti; she gasped. She was looking at the bearded, bright-eyed face of Lars Denlenich!

“How?” she started.

    “Patti, we need to talk.”

    “How do you know my name?” Patti was stunned. She looked into Denlenich’s shining eyes. There was something familiar about his smile, his voice...

    “Patti, I wish you had listened to me about the book. Now you are in grave danger.”

    “You...warned me about the book? But that was...” Realization dawned as Patti stared at the man. “Mr. Linden! It is you! How is this possible? You look so - young!” She didn’t want to be rude, but she was flabbergasted.

“Yes, Patti, it’s me. I am Lars Denlenich. Charles Linden is an anagram. I promise I’ll tell you everything, but for now, you have to listen to me. The Senza Cuore will not let you be. Once it sets its sights on a victim...”

  “But if you are Lars Denlenich, then you created the Senza Cuore, right? Can’t you stop it?”

“I wish I could, but that story is finished. The creatures are what they are. I cannot un-create what has been completed.” 

“I don’t understand,” Patti began. “How are you able to be safe here?” 

“I am safe, because I wrote it that way. This place is my sanctuary. I come here every night after closing the library. I come here to be young again, and to write my stories in solitude. But - Patti, you cannot stay here. You must go back to your family.”

“How can I get out of here?” The thought that she might not be able to get back to her family had not occurred to Patti. Now, the notion that she was stuck in this place forever consumed her.

“It won’t be easy. It may be impossible.” Mr. Linden looked away. He had to tell Patti the harsh truth. “I made the Senza Cuore to have only one weakness. The only thing that can pause the creature, for enough time to allow a potential victim to escape, is love.”

“Love?  Is that all?” In spite of the gravity of her situation, Patti laughed. “No offense, Mr. Linden, but that sounds pretty lame. If ‘all you need is love,’” she sang, “then shouldn’t stopping the Senza Cuore be easy?”

“I am not talking about the kind of love that most people mean when they toss that word out of their mouths,” Mr. Linden spat out. He was frustrated, trying to make her understand. “People say ‘love’ and have no idea what it means. How can we use the same word to express the way we feel about ice cream, and how we feel about our mother? How can I say ‘I love this song’ and ‘I love my wife’, with no differentiation between the two?”  His voice softened, “The Senza Cuore knows the difference between that hollow emotion, and true affection - unconditional, pure allegiance to another soul. It cannot feel this affection for itself, but if it is in the presence of such loyal adoration, it is stopped in its tracks, at least for a while.”  

Patti thought about this. She still did not fully understand. “But Mr. Linden, I’m sure we can find...”

Mr. Linden cut off her words, “Patti, that pure, unconditional love - it doesn’t exist.  Not in this world - and not in the real one, either.”  Patti had never heard such cynicism in Mr. Linden’s voice. 

Patti stared at Mr. Linden, incredulous. Surely, there had to be someone who possessed the ability to share true affection - full and complete, with no conditions. Silence fell around them, weighing on them like a boulder. 

Suddenly, Patti heard an unintelligible buzzing that seemed to be coming from the woods outside the cottage. After a few minutes, she could distinguish the words floating on the air in a sweet, sing-song voice. “Maybe later Jimbo, maybe later Jimbo!” 

“Jimmy!” Patti and Mr. Linden both heard her brother’s voice, becoming clearer. They jumped up from the chairs and headed for the door. 

Jimmy had gone into Patti’s room to summon her for dinner. He was still hoping for water ice later that evening. Jimmy had a vague sense that he was different from other people, but when he was with his sister, he felt complete, balanced, safe.

  This was the reason he picked flowers for her. Three years ago, Mr. Lanzo had brought home a dozen lilies for his wife.  Jimmy had asked what they were for, and Mr. Lanzo had answered, “Giving someone flowers shows them that you love them, Jimbo.” Jimmy had nodded. Though he did not understand many things, he did comprehend love. From then on, whenever he saw any type of flowering plant, he would pluck some of the blooms to give to Patti. 

Now, Jimmy looked all around Patti’s room, searching for his sister. He thought that she might be playing a hiding game.  He was sure she was in here; her book was lying open on the bed. 

A strange plant seemed to be growing from the center of the book. Jimmy touched one of the leaves. There were no flowers, but it gave off a sweet smell that reminded him of strawberry Pop-tarts and made him feel sleepy. “Patti-cake! C’mon out. Mom made pisghetti...” His eyelids were getting heavier. He climbed into the bed and put his head on Patti’s fluffy blue pillow, the one that reminded him of Cookie Monster’s fur. He touched the vines protruding from the book again. This time, a small thorn stuck his thumb. “Owww!” he cried, as a bubble of blood formed. “Hey! I don’t like that! Patti, come out now!” Even as he was calling for his sister, Jimmy grew drowsier. He closed his eyes. 

Patti and Mr. Linden heard Jimmy’s cry of pain when the thorn stabbed his thumb; they realized what was happening and ran out of the cottage.  They reached the center of the woods and there, in a clearing surrounded by foreign conifers, stood Jimmy. Facing him, only three feet between them, was the Senza Cuore. 

Jimmy stood staring at the creature with an odd expression. He did not seem afraid, but rather curious. When he looked over and saw Patti, his expression was gleeful, thrilled to have his sister there to share this strange experience.  “Lookit, Patti!” he said, pointing to the monster before him. 

Patti stood, paralyzed with fear. She whispered to her brother, “Yes, Jim.  I see it. Can you come here to me?” 

Jimmy took a step toward his sister; then something caught his eye. Right by his feet there was a patch of blossoms unlike any he had ever seen before. He reached down to pick some flowers, tokens of love for his sister. 

The Senza Cuore shrank back. Patti watched as its dark eyes glazed over in confusion. Mr. Linden spoke quietly, “Unconditional love. Genuine, selfless affection. It’s Jimmy...”

Patti felt a sob catch in her throat. How could she have ever thought of her brother as a burden? 

“Pat, you and Jimmy have to go,” There was urgency in Mr. Linden’s voice.  “Do you see the light in the distance, at the edge of the forest? You have to run to that light. Once you go through it, you will be home.”

“What about you? Will you be OK?” Patti was concerned for the old librarian, even in his youthful state. 

“I will be as I have always been. You will see me in the Library - don’t worry.” Mr. Linden smiled. “You’d better get going. I know how your mother worries when you’re late.” 

Patti held her hand out to her brother. “Come on, Bud. It’s time to go home.”

Jimmy took his sister’s hand, completely trusting. As he did this, he placed a single flower into her palm. The Senza Cuore reeled back, as if he had been burned. “Now, Patti!  You have to run - he won’t be disabled for long!” 

Patti pulled Jimmy to her side.  “I’ll race you to that light!”  They ran together for several yards, then Jimmy dashed ahead, overjoyed to be running, to be outside, to be with his beloved sister.

He reached the light and stopped. He turned to wait for Patti, but she was right behind him. “Great job, Jim. You won! Now let’s get home for that spaghetti!”

That evening as the Lanzo family sat around the dining room table, Patti basked in the realization of what she had. She could not believe that she thought her life had been a sacrifice, a burden. She vowed to learn from Jimmy more than he could ever learn from her. 

“So Jim, how about we head over to Rita’s?” She tucked her newest blossom into her hair and reached for her brother’s hand. 

Author's Note

An assignment I recently gave to my students, writing a short short based on one of the "Mysteries of Harris Burdick". The class challenged me to write one, too...

Reviews

[Matthew Ian Herrawood W]

I REALLY like this. Its not often You read a story with someone like jimmy, but It was a bit too never ending story for my taste (Though you could say that about my books and Narnia). I would change one or two things. All we know about how Patti looks is that she has thick Brown hair (and wearing a blue scrunchie at least part of the time) I would like a clearer picture of all Characters but particularly Patti. Also I found the beginning too long. it didn't really give us any Useful or relevant information that we couldn't get later in shorter terms and we got information that was irrelevant too. Personally I would cut out a large chunk (possibly starting at "Today was Friday. Patti inwardly checked her day’s agenda - math class, English, science, then Stations.") unless you were planning to tell us more about Patti. Also I noticed one or two typo's. Despite this as I said I REALLY like this.

[Einstein Noodle]

holy moly! ... what a story .. way to step up to the challenge you laid down ;) have to confess .. i thin k it a terrifying thing to be presented with the "Light" and be reluctant to run to it .. great story! ..and you owe me at least three reads of my poems girl :) ... i have missed you posting .. and am amazed at the number of pages i have not read of you ... Happy New Year ... most esteemed teach!
E.

[Rita L. Sev]

E, thank you for reading this - my first WC post, and the only short story. I'm glad you enjoyed it - I always tell my students that I will never ask them to write anything that I am not willing to write myself. :) I know I am behind on reviews - hoping to get here more now!

[Damien Thibodeaux]

OMG, I am so far behind reading you! This is..is brilliant! I don't read a lot of stories on here, because I'm usually only online for just a few minutes at a time. But I think I've been missing out. I was as captivated in your story as Patti was in hers. In the end it had brought me to tears. I guess I'm sensitive to a life lesson, happy ending. Such an imagination you have (Charles Linden / Lars Denlenich) and such a great storyteller you are! I loved it and can't wait to have more time to catch up with your page. I guess your students won't challenge you again! HA!

[Rita L. Sev]

Wow, Damien - thank you so much for taking the time to read this. This story was my first post here on WC, and my only short story - I am so happy that you enjoyed it, and got its message! Also glad that you appreciated the anagram - took me forever to come up with a plausible name! You would like the Mysteries of Harris Burdick pics - great story/poem seeds!

[Mila]

Very sweet and well done; safe to say that you owned that challenge. Got me thinking of a similar situation in my own life...but not to this degree. I'm glad I took the time to read and this was great! :)

[Rita L. Sev]

Thank you so much for reading this - my only story here. Happy you think I met the challenge well, Mira!

[Travis Gibson (poetic h..]

A challenge you took by the horns and "owned!" Fantastic story, Rita. I worked closely with an autistic male, who I soon found myself connecting with. Someone asked, why I treated him differently than the others we worked with... assuming it was due to his mental condition. I simply replied, "because he's sincere." This brought back wonderful memories for me. Excellent story, Rita I'm glad I chose to read it.

[Rita L. Sev]

Travis, thank you so much for reading this. I am so happy that you were able to connect with this story. You are absolutely right about the young man being more sincere - they call it a "handicap", but sometimes I wonder if they have it right, and we are the ones who need help... My cousin's son (who lives down the block) was my inspiration for Jimmy, and I am always grateful to him for being so genuine, honest, and joyful...

[Travis Gibson (poetic heroics)]

"We" absolutely are the ones who need help. Our judgements and unfair guidelines of normal, keep us at a distance from those who would truly treasure our company and gifts.

[icelandicblue]

I thought this was absolutely enthralling. You included a heartfelt message about unconditional love and the importance of being grateful for those in our lives. I thought the story was beautiful. I was hooked from the start and I commend you for doing the assignment. I always tell my students I will never ask you to do an assignment that I myself would not do. I bet your students will be stupefied by the story. You should do more of these. You have a fabulous imagination and you are able to make your characters appealing and multidimensional. In just a few paragraphs I found myself caring about them and what was happening to them. This was simply magnificent.

[Rita L. Sev]

Thank you so much, Blue! I tell my students the exact same thing (and I am dismayed when they tell me that their other English teachers never share their writing...) I am so glad you enjoyed this.

[therisa]

Normally, I don't read stories, for this, I will make an exception, every time. How I envy Patti, with the love that Jimmy has for her, for my own brother's heart is filled with hate and anger towards me. Reading this, almost caused me, to start crying. Thank you, Rita, for posting this beautiful short story.

[Rita L. Sev]

Thank you, Therisa, for reading this and for your lovely review. It is so sad to know that some people wallow in anger. Fortunately, there are those who look toward light as well... Thanks again.

[therisa]

Your welcome, Rita.

[00000000000000000000000..]

Smiles with delight:) Rita this was awesome:) I was really sucked in the whole story of Patti and Jimmy, They became of the book when she read and wow a brothers love is a brothers love , the picking of the flowers was quite awesome , I loved the end now lets head over to Rita's smiles. You did great . I am not much for reading stories but was just setting here after the end thing if I hadn't read this what a story id really missed:)))))))))))))) For some strange reason I felt like a kid again reading all. Wow I am really blowed away how great this was Rita:))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

[Rita L. Sev]

Thank you so much, Jon, for taking the time to read and review this story. It was in many ways a labor of love as well as a challenge from my students. I'm so glad you enjoyed!

[0000000000000000000000000000]

Your very welcome Rita:))))))))))) I sure did:)

[Marie]

THis is amazing. I had no idea you could write stories. I've always enjoyed your poetry, but this story is like opening a door and finding another world. Like Rayzor, I don't like to read long stories, but I knew how good your poems are, so I had hopes for the story. And I was right.

[Rita L. Sev]

Marie, I am so grateful that you read my story. I don't write long pieces like this often - this really was a challenge from last year's students, and the first piece that I posted here. Knowing your talent with short stories, I am truly humbled by your review.

[Rayzor]

What a great little story!! :D Quickly, I found myself lost in your story, just as Patti was. Everything around me disappeared while I read it.

To be honest, I groaned when I saw the length of the story. Didn't want to read that much. But you hooked me early, and now, I feel your story was too short. :P I really really wanted to read more. More about all of them. Patti, Jimmy and Mr.Linden, and the world you created.

In a way I really connected with Mr.Linden, mainly because I know an old man just like him. He's not into books, like Mr.Linden, but with all sorts of rocks, gems and such. Has his own store here in town where he sells them. He treats his rocks just like Mr. Linden treats his books.

Hmmm maybe I should ask him if he has a special magic rock, just like Mr.Linden's magic book :D

Too conclude, I really liked your story. But I wish that story was only the first chapter of a whole novel. Also, I feel it ended a bit sudden. And I wish it could be a bit more tension when we first encounter the Senza Cuores. Other than that, there isn't much I can point my finger at.

I really loved this sentence: «He treated the books in his library as if they were precious gems, each volume the Hope Diamond.»
PS! Let me know when chapter 2 is ready to be published ;)

[Rita L. Sev]

Rayzor, thank you so much for reading this, and for your generous review! This was the first thing I posted here, and it was on a whim. The story was written as a challenge from my seventh grade students. They had to write a short story based on on of the pictures in "The Mysteries of Harris Burdick". I had written a sample for every other assignment except this one. They called me on it... I enjoyed writing this, since I know each character in some way. Bringing them together as a family was fun... I don' know if I will continue this story, but I may just tackle another one of the pictures this year... Thanks again!