Little Night by Luanne Rice

Author:Luanne Rice
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2012-05-17T04:00:00+00:00

* * *

Clare and Grit left the Met, bundled up against the stiff November wind. The rain had stopped, so they headed west across Central Park. As they walked past Cleopatra’s Needle, Clare reached for Grit’s hand.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yes,” Grit said.

“I know you can’t be,” Clare said.

“I’m glad I told you,” Grit said. “It was strange being with you, knowing you had no idea about Gillis.”

“Was it hard to tell me?”

Grit nodded.

They headed through the park, hearing wind in the trees above. Clare held Grit’s hand tighter. When they reached the cedar trees, she directed Grit’s gaze into the thick branches. It took a moment, but Grit spotted the sleeping owls. Clare felt her niece’s arm tense as she focused her attention into the heart of the tree.

“They’re long-eared owls,” Clare said. “I like to think they’re descendants of the ones your mother and I used to see.”

Cold light trickled through the branches and fine green needles, and the longer they stared, the more obvious the owl shapes became.

“Do you think it’s possible?” Grit asked. “That he’s still alive?”

“Gilly?” Clare asked, surprised.

“Why couldn’t he be?” Grit asked. “What if he walked in and just kept going? He might have climbed out the other side.”

“I don’t know,” Clare said gently.

“It’s an adventure day, that’s what you said,” Grit said. “I want the adventure to take me back in time, to make Gillis be alive. If my mother hadn’t grabbed me, she could have gone after him. Saved him.”

“Oh, Grit—”

“The police looked for Gilly and didn’t find him. My father let them stop searching. I never would have; they’d still be looking if it were up to me.”

“And your mother?”

“She went along with whatever he said.”

“Oh God, Anne,” Clare said, filled with sorrow and frustration for her sister.

They continued their walk. Heading past the Boathouse Café and around the lake, they entered the dark and mysterious Ramble. Navigating twisting paths, they walked in silence except for a downy woodpecker working the bark of a maple tree near Azalea Pond.

Birders walked the paths, nodding to Clare. After a while she and Grit were alone on the trail, lost in the sound of bare branches clicking and brushing overhead. A white-crowned sparrow flew ahead of them, leading them into adventure. It felt like a fairy-tale forest, and Clare could easily imagine an almost-extinct owl seeking refuge here.

“Tell me about Gilly,” Clare said.

“He would love this walk.”

“Did you and he walk together?”

“Yes. On the beach a lot. We’d look for shells and fossils. And in the fields. We hung out with each other’s friends, never at our house, though. Our father hated everyone we liked.”

“I think your father hates everyone.”

Grit glanced up, looking relieved to hear Clare finally speaking about Frederik.

They crossed the Lake’s upper lobe and emerged on Central Park West. The sun looked white through thin clouds and cast pale shadows on the sidewalks. “When you mentioned an adventure day,” Grit said, “I’m sure you didn’t know I was going to lay something so heavy on you.

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