The Cats of Tanglewood Forest by Charles De Lint Read Free Book Online

Gingham like Aunt’s dress.

    She took a step closer, then she was running for where Aunt was lying in the dirt in between the rows of green corn.
    “Aunt, Aunt!” she called out.
    She wanted to pretend that Aunt was only lying down, having a rest, but she knew something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. Stalks of corn were bent from where she’d fallen. Some were broken. Aunt lay with her face pressed into the ground, dirt smudged on her face.
    Lillian dropped to her knees beside Aunt and gave her shoulder a little push.
    “Get up, get up!” she cried. “Oh, please, get up.”
    But Aunt didn’t move. And then Lillian noticed the two little marks on her ankle, surrounded by a red inflammation.
    Snakebite.
    No, no,
no
!
    Surely Aunt had only fainted. In a moment her eyelids would flutter open and she would smile weakly at Lillian.
    But no, this… this was different, and Lillian knew it. She was no stranger to death. She’d come across the remains of animals in the woods. She’d seen the cats kill mice and voles, spitting up a few tiny organs when they were done eating. She’d helped Aunt when one of the chickens was going to be dinner.
    Lillian’s chest felt like it might burst. This couldn’t be true. Yet here was Aunt, lying gray-skinned on the ground.
    She stroked Aunt’s cooling brow and realized that her dream hadn’t been some silly little thing she’d imagined. It had been a premonition. A warning. But it had come too late.
    She lowered her head, pressing her face into Aunt’s shoulder.
    “Please wake up,” she whispered. “Please, Aunt. I don’t know what to do….”
    But she knew Aunt was gone. She cried for a long, long time.

    Dusk was coming on when Lillian finally sat up. She sniffled and wiped her nose on the shoulder of her dress. Aunt was stiff now, her skin cold to the touch. Lillian was slow getting to her feet. She seemed to have no strength. All she had was what felt like a huge, gaping hole in the middle of her chest.
    Oh, Aunt…
    She was twice orphaned now.
    Aunt had become her entire family—mother and father and every other relative you could have, all rolled up into one. Lillian didn’t really remember her mother or father. Influenza had taken them when she was only a year old. The sickness had raged through the hills, and there was no rhyme nor reason why so many died, while others, such as Lillian and Aunt, were spared.
    But now Aunt was gone, too.
    Turning away, she shuffled through the rows of corn. When she got to the barn, she pulled an old blanket down from its peg and put it in the wheelbarrow. The wooden wheel rattled in its brackets as she left the barn and returned to the corn patch. But once she got the wheelbarrow in between the rows and into position, she couldn’t lift Aunt onto the wooden slats of its bed. She wasn’t nearly strong enough.
    What was she supposed to do now? She couldn’t just leave Aunt lying in the corn patch. What was going to happen? Why did she have to be so small and useless? Poor Aunt.
    Kneeling in the dirt beside the wheelbarrow, her arms and shoulders aching from the effort, she started to cry again, but then quickly choked back her tears. If she let herself weep, she didn’t think she’d ever be able to stop. There was still too much to do. She owed it to Aunt.
    She sat up and gently laid the blanket over Aunt, then pushed herself to her feet. Her footsteps were heavy as she left the corn patch for a second time.The hole in her chest felt even bigger—like nothing would ever fill it again.
    It was almost full night now. She got Annabelle and brought her into the barn. Then she went to the house and got the lantern down from its shelf. Lighting the wick, she went outside. The lantern chased shadows away from her as she took the long path that led down to the Welches’ farm.

CHAPTER SEVEN
Aunt’s Gone
    B irdsong woke Lillian the next morning. She lifted her head in confusion, trying to figure out where she was, but then it