Nancy K. Duplechain - Dark Trilogy 01 - Dark Bayou by Nancy K. Duplechain Read Free Book Online

where she stood.
     
    “That bird. It can’t get in. I made sure of that.”
     
    “You sure it can’t break the window or something?”
     
    She chuckled. “I’m sure it could, but it won’t.” She saw the puzzled look on my face. “Just trust me. Go to bed now. Lyla will be fine. I’m going to bed, too.” She turned and started back down the stairs.
     
    “Thought you said you were going to bed.”
     
    “My room’s downstairs now.”
     
    I was puzzled for a second then saw her walking stiffly. I remembered her weak knees, and thought it probably wore her out checking on Lyla for the last couple of weeks, climbing up and down the stairs.
     
    “Good night, Leigh-Leigh.”
     
    “Night, Maw-maw.”
     
    I opened the door to my grandparents’ master bedroom. There were fresh sheets and blankets on the bed. Too many blankets for this time of year , I thought. I closed the door behind me and settled in for the night.
     
    I slept, dreamless, for nearly thirteen hours.
    ***
     
    When I woke up, it was already lunch time and I was incredibly thirsty. I got dressed and drug myself downstairs, intent on having more sweet tea. When I got to the kitchen, Lyla was sitting at the table, picking at the food in her plate. I was a little hungry when I was upstairs, but now seeing Lyla, I lost my appetite. This was the first time I’d seen her awake since I’d come back to Louisiana. I was nervous, unsure how she would react to me. Should I go up to her and hug her? Should I keep it short and casual? Should I let her be the one to talk first? I didn’t have to wait long for my answer. She looked over toward the stairs.
     
    “Lyla,” I started.
     
    But she got up from her seat and went out the front door without a word. My stomach sank. I figured this would happen, but there was a part of me that hoped she would be excited to see me. With a heavy sigh, I went to the fridge, brought out the pitcher and poured myself a glass of tea. The cold liquid shocked my throat, but it felt good. I chugged the whole glass and noticed that the mint leaves helped to wake me up a little.
     
    I walked into the living room and noticed it hadn’t changed since I’d been gone. Above the sofa, a large painting of a silver fleur de lis against a navy blue background was the focal point. The polished mahogany floor peeked out from under a large area rug. A scent of lemon Pledge hung in the air, and I saw that the little wooden coffee table had been cleaned recently. Sitting in the center of the table was Clothilde’s antique candy dish that belonged to her grandmother. It was a tear-drop shaped Waterford Crystal bowl, and Clothilde swore that if David or I ever moved it from the center of the table, our hides would be red for a month. I didn’t have to lift the lid of the dish to know what kind of candy was in it. Since I was a baby, a constant supply of Tootsie Rolls occupied the hollow of the crystal.
     
    I went out the front door. The heat and humidity were stifling, but it was beautiful out there, even with the overgrown weeds and the general unkempt appearance of the front yard. There was a large pond a couple of yards in front of the house. The shadows of the ancient oak trees cast themselves upon the water’s surface. My gaze ventured out toward the center of the pond and I suddenly remembered my dream about Lyla being out there, telling me to hurry up and join her because we would be safe there. But in the dream, the Dark Man chased us into the water. As I thought of that creepy, skeletal hand reaching around the corner of the door frame where I now stood, I shivered despite the heat.
     
    I walked down the porch and around to the back yard. On my way to the back, I strolled down a dirt path that was covered with a latticed archway engulfed in honeysuckle. A Banana Spider sat lazily in her web, seemingly uninterested in the few bees that buzzed around the sweet buds. It reminded me of all the childhood summers David and I