Spindle Wood (COMPLETED)

Chapter 64

Pat was trying to write another letter. It probably wasn't the smartest plan but it was the only one he had.

Pat played the events of the afternoon over in his head. He and Logan had been walking when they'd seen Logan's brother. Logan had dropped his hand and his stance had changed. Not straightened out or anything - he always walked with such a straight back Pat sometimes wondered if he was going to snap in two - but changed. Like he was more nervous.

Logan's brother had called him over and Pat guessed he'd better leave. He slipped in between the trees and disappeared. But he didn't get far enough away before the shouting started.

"You are such an idiot, Logan! A common peasant?! Are you out of your mind?!"

"It's my choice-"

"You don't get a damn choice and you know it! I've got to tell father."

"Don't you dare-"

Pat had left at that point. He didn't need to hear any more of that.

Pat blinked and pushed his glasses up his nose. He stared down at the letter he was trying to write and sighed. He'd had to settle for pencil this time and it just didn't look right.

Dear Logan,

Your brother seems awful. Sorry, that's a bad thing to say... But he doesn't seem nice, at the very least.

I'm writing this to you in case we can't see each other again for a while. I'm sorry. I can't help but feel like us meeting your brother is my fault. If I'd walked us in a different direction... Anyway, I found this kingdom! On the other side of the forest. It's beautiful and just sounds happy. It's great to watch the sun rise over it. Maybe one day, if we can ever, we could watch the sun rise there. I'm sure it's-

His candle snuffed out with a whoosh. Pat jumped and glanced up. He couldn't see a thing.

As his eyes grew accustomed to the weak, grey light of the moon, he saw his candle had burned away to nothing. How long had he been trying to write?

Pat sighed. However long it had been, he guessed that was enough for now. He placed his pencil carefully over his letter and stuck it under the bed. Then, jumping down in bed, he turned away from the window. A few snatched hours of sleep was better than nothing at all.

"Pat. Pat."

Pat groaned and shut his eyes against the bright light. He turned his face into his pillow. Someone prodded his shoulder.

"Kid. Pat."

"No." Pat mumbled. He tugged the cover over his head. He smiled, safe in his fabric fort, and snuggled down to go back to sleep.

Uncle Remus sighed. A couple seconds later, Pat felt someone start to tickle the soles of his feet. He yelped and shot up in bed. Pulling the cover down over his feet, he glared at a laughing Uncle Remus.

"Get your glasses on and your pjs off." Uncle Remus said. He patted Pat on the shoulder. "It's time to go do things."

Pat groaned and slumped back down in bed. "Five more minutes, please." He mumbled.

"Pat, it's gone 9." Uncle Remus grabbed his glasses and dropped them on his chest. "Time to start the day."

"No." Pat decided.

"Uh, yes." Uncle Remus scoffed. "You're not the man of the house, your Papa is. And he says time to get up. You've got school work to do and flowers to pick and stuff to clean and berries to find and-"

"Alright, alright, alright." Pat sighed like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He jammed his glasses on his face and threw his cover back dramatically. He planted his feet on the ground and stood up. The legs of his pyjama bottoms had ridden up around his knees.

Yawning, he glared at Uncle Remus. Well, tried to. He hadn't inherited his Papa's glare. "Happy?"

"Perfectly." Uncle Remus opened the door to leave. "Don't forget to make your bed."

Pat groaned again.

I LIVE, BITCHES!
Bye,
Blaize