The Seven Turns of the Snail's Shell: A Novel by Mj Roë Read Free Book Online Page A

you?”
    “No.” His voice faded to a whisper. “I heard from another of the old Résistance leaders that he had moved to the south of France. I had no more news after that.”
    “What was Diamanté’s last name?”
    He thought for a moment, holding her hand tightly. “It’s funny, Anna. I always just called him Diamanté, but I recall that his last name was Wolf or Tiger, or something like that, in French. The maquis …that was the name they all called themselves… I think that the word had something to do with Corsica… They all called him “the wolf “for short. He had such eyes, like those of a wolf.” He patted her hand. “His son was very handsome. I see his features in you. It gives you a very European beauty.”
    Anna sobbed. She was angry with the old man for not telling her all these years, for being in a car accident now, for giving her so much love over the years that it hurt to bear the thought of losing him now. She laid her head on his heaving chest and stayed with him, holding his hand. She told him how much she loved him, that he was safe, that the doctors would take care of him—everything she could think of to comfort him. Sometime during the night, he slipped into a coma, and two days later he quietly passed away.

CHAPTER 10
     
    A nna and Monique strolled through Laguna Beach’s Heisler park overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Anna’s thoughts went back to her childhood and the good times she had spent in her grandparents’ care.
    “Tell us a story, Anna.” She was eight years old. Her grandfather was smiling at her. He and her grandmother were sitting next to each other in their seaside chairs under a big, purple and orange umbrella. It was August. As a child, she had first exhibited the gift of storytelling when she was in preschool. She would make up stories about her stuffed animals. Grandfather never tired of hearing her stories.
    “You have such a gift, Anna. No one else in the family has this gift, sweetie. You will use this to your great advantage someday.”
    Of course she had, and he had always been so proud of her successes as a novelist. Her story at eight was about how a blue and beige horse named Handee became a sculpture in the park near her grandparents’ home.
    “Okay, Grandpa.” She had hesitated a minute to think up her story. Then the little girl had begun her fable in earnest.
    “This is the story of Handee. Handee was a blue horse with tan spots on his back. He also had a tan spot over one eye, which made him look like he had a patch on it. He had big, really big feet, so his horseshoes were huge. He had white patches on his legs all around his knees, which made him look like he had white socks on. Handee enjoyed singing tunes every day as he trotted along the beach. He was a singing horse! He sang horse songs! One day, as he was trotting happily along singing a favorite horse song, he saw a perfectly circular hula hoop standing up between two trees in the park on the hill right in front of him. That hula hoop is bigger than I am , he thought, as he cocked his head this way and that to get a better view of it. Just then, he decided to have some fun. He pawed the sand with his big, horseshoed feet and began galloping upward toward the hoop. As he picked up speed, he made a huge leap with his back feet in the air, and he jumped right through that hoop. The weather was so beautiful, like today, and he had such perfect form that he turned around and jumped through the hoop again and again. It was like he was dancing. He was having such a good time that he didn’t see a fairy appear. It was a park fairy. The fairy watched him jumping and singing for a while, and she was so delighted at what she saw that she decided that she should cast a magic charm on him. Right then and there, just as he was midway through the big hoop, his hind feet in the air, his tail pointed skyward, his eyes closed in perfect happiness, and his mouth open in song, she froze him for all to enjoy