Morning all and welcome to April We are actually in the 40s this morning so it has warmed up quite a bit. I am hoping that we are beginning the slow and steady climb into spring. I am still expecting this weekend to be chilly. It is after all Easter. And you can’t have an Easter with out little girls freezing in their summer weight Easter dresses. I think it is a rule somewhere. But it is time to kick off April with the first prompt of the month. Are you ready? Good, then let’s get going.
Oh there is so much to play with here. Casey is planning to leave, clearly but held there by Walter. Why? Does Walter need assistance beyond the norm? And what is so disapproving about what his is doing? All things to think about.
Monday, April 3rd: I didn’t want to disturb you.
“I didn’t want to disturb you.” The words were said with stiff lipped condemnation. Casey tried not to sigh, tried not to let his irritation show. A part of him wanted to say that she should have inturupted him for something like this but he knew his step-mother too well. If he gave her permission now, she would take it as her right to interrupt him whenever she pleased.
“I see,” he said instead. “How long ago did he leave?”
“About an hour,” she said. She somehow managed to radiate disappointment without actually changing her expression.
“Fine,” Casey moved to the door, grabbing his coat from the hook with one hand as his other reached for the knob. “I’ll be back.”
He didn’t look back, he merely stepped out of the house and started walking to where he knew his uncle would be. The Summer House was on the back of the property and stood atop a small hill. Even though they called it the Summer House Casey was pretty sure it started off life as some sort of Hot House. It was built like a greenhouse but there were heating pipes running through the floors and walls. He remembered being fascinated by the giant Victorian era boiler in the small shed behind it, half hidden by concealing bushes.
His Uncle Walter converted it into a lounging space that was used primarily in the Summer time. By the time Casey was born it was simply called the Summer House and he remembered spending summer nights “camped” out there when he was younger. Casey didn’t find it surprising that Walter preferred the Summer House. It had a warmth and life to it that the main house often lacked. Casey never remembered the house having any sort of warmth to it. Even when the heaters were going something about the house made it feel chilly.
He once asked Walter about it and he told him that even when his grandparents were alive the place felt frozen. All those with warmth ended up leaving or had it sucked out of them. He knew then it was a warning. It was one he was doing his best to heed, hence his step mother’s current disapproval.
‘If she didn’t approve of this she’d find something else,’ Casey reminded himself.
Casey shook his head and hurried his steps. The wind was picking up now. He would need to hurry if he was going to get Walter back to the main house before the storm broke. He began to walk faster, even as he was still struggling into his coat, the wind trying to whip it from him.
The Summer House seemed an oasis of light in the gathering dark. It glowed warm and golden at the top of the hill. Casey made it up to the hill and opened the door, stepping insdie the warmth. After the ice tinged wind, he wanted to bask, but he knew there was no time.
“Walter,” He called.
“Over here, my boy, over here,” Walter looked up from his book. He had been staring at it but not really reading. It was becoming a habit. Walter had been reading this book for several months now and the page never changed. It was his excuse to sit in the sun.
“We have to head back to the house now,” Casey said. “Storm’s coming and it isn’t safe here. Remember, last storm knocked out three windows.” Casey himself had replaced them when the others were content to let the Summer House fall into disrepair. He knew Walter needed it.
Ten til Midnight 