How I Spent my Summer Holiday

The next morning the diary was lying beside my plate at breakfast. Outside, the rain continued to fall. Grandpa was already out in the barn with the police. I wondered how wet they were getting, considering all the holes in the roof. Hopefully, Grandpa could find a corner to stay dry in, since he was only there to watch.

I thumbed through the diary as I ate my cereal and drank my orange juice. It didn’t look very interesting. Just pages and pages outlining what this man had done, one day after another. If this is what our school assignment is supposed to look like, I’m disappointed. I would much rather write like Robert Louis Stevenson. I think that is what I am going to try to do.

I tucked the diary under my arm and returned to the library, The fire was almost down to the coals, so I threw a couple of small logs on it before I picked up the book and curled up in the chair again. It didn’t take but a few minutes to be sailing away on the Hispaniola.

Thus it was how I spent the next few days. Eating meals with Isabelle and my grandparents and then heading off to the library to read. Finally, the book came to an end. A shiver ran down my back as I read the last sentence; “and the worst dreams that ever I have are when I hear the surf booming about its coasts, or start upright in bed, with the sharp voice of Captain Flint still ringing in my ears: ‘Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight!’

I slowly closed the book and laid it carefully on the table beside me. The spell of the island hung over me like a cloak and I didn’t want to let it go. I wrapped my arms around my knees as I stared into the fire. Gradually the feeling of being lost in the past dissipated and I returned to 2021. I looked around the room, wondering what to do next. There were so many other books to read, but I wasn’t ready for them yet.

It was then that I remembered the brown paper parcel that I had shoved under the chair when I went for supper so many days before. I reached under the chair to retrieve it. Yes, there it was. I pulled it out and studied it carefully again, wondering why it would be hidden behind books in the library rather than opened. Perhaps I would know if I saw what was inside. But should I open it?

I looked around the room. I was all alone, but everyone knew I was in here, reading. It would be better to go somewhere, where I wouldn’t be disturbed. I tucked the parcel under my arm and hurried to the library door. I peered down the hall. There was no one in sight. I took a deep breath and sprinted to the staircase, up the stairs and into my bedroom. Thankfully, the carpets masked the sounds of my footsteps,

I don’t know why I was so nervous. Perhaps it had to do with fighting pirates for the last few days. But I don’t think so. I couldn’t help hearing the tone of Grandmas voice when she said ‘what did you do now’ to Grandpa and feel his anger that followed. Perhaps this parcel had something to do with that.

I sat on the bed and carefully peeled the tape of each end of the parcel. It was dry and discolored and I realized I would not be able to use it again to re-wrap the parcel. There was no way I was going to be able to cover up the fact I had opened it. The paper came off easily to reveal a box. I pulled off another piece of tape and opened the flaps. Inside there was a piece of tissue paper. Underneath there was a circlet of flowers, the kind that women wear on their heads sometimes. The flowers were marigolds. I knew this because we had planted them in a pot at school for Mothers Day a few years ago. She had kept the pot in the kitchen window. They bloomed all summer.

These marigolds were very dry and brittle. I picked them up very carefully out of the box and laid them on the night table. I took out another piece of tissue which covered a number of photos of a woman and a little boy. I looked at each of them very carefully to see if I could recognize her. I was pretty sure I had never seen her before. The boy was pictured at different ages, as a baby, a toddler and finally heading off on his first day of school. That was written on the back of that photo: ‘First day of school, 1976.’

I put the photos aside to see what was left in the box. There was a sealed envelope with Virgil written on the front in bold letters. I held it in my hand for a long time, wondering if I should open it. It didn’t feel right to do so. I would give it to Grandpa when I had a chance to be alone with him.

I heard Grandma calling me. Isabelle was running up the stairs. I hastily pushed everything back in the box and left it on the desk by the window. I ran to the door and was out and had it closed before she got to me.

To be continued….