Marigolds for Mourning by Audrey Stallsmith

Marigolds for Mourning by Audrey Stallsmith

Author:Audrey Stallsmith [Stallsmith, Audrey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-78358-5
Publisher: The Crown Publishing Group
Published: 2011-05-25T00:00:00+00:00


When Gabe approached the Clearview Library at about four-thirty that afternoon, he discovered Lucerne Abiel lying on one of the stone lions that flanked the steps. She was on her stomach, facing the library, with her legs twined casually around the lion’s mane and a magazine resting open on its rump. She was making marks in the magazine with a pencil. “If you’re looking for books and articles about comas,” she said, “I have them all in my book bag here.” She pointed with her pencil toward the other lion. “Have a seat.”

“You get down from there,” Gabe said, perching on the steps. “You aren’t supposed to sit on those. What did the articles say?”

“They were universally depressing. A coma isn’t like sleep, from which you can pop bright-eyed. Most people are confused when they come to, and many of them are so brain-damaged they have to learn everything over again. Of course, some of them never do. Emerge, that is. And some, only partially.”

It was about what Gabe had expected, but it didn’t improve his mood any. “I hope,” he said, “that isn’t one of the library’s magazines you’re writing in.”

She raised her head then to look at him. “You are so stodgy, Gabe, it’s a wonder Matt Olin ever had any trouble with you. Do you see any sign that says, ‘Thou shalt not sit on the lions’? No, you don’t, because there isn’t one.”

“That’s because everybody else knows better.”

“It’s because everybody else has no imagination. Present company included. And this is my own personal issue of Cryptic Crossword. What’s an answer for ‘talk right, but wear your flowers backward?’ Gabriel! Get it? Gab for ‘talk.’ R for ‘right’ and lei for ‘backward.’ ”

“I get it,” Gabe said. “But it doesn’t make any sense.”

“Cryptic clues aren’t supposed to make sense.”

“Yes, but the best ones sound like they do.”

Lucerne gave a windy sigh. “You just absolutely have to spoil my fun every time, don’t you?”

The library faced west and was spotlighted in the lurid yellow haze that preceded sunset. Raven Scion swaggered out of that haze like a rock star out of a dry-ice fog and looked up at them.

His sunglasses cast their own vivid reflections back in their faces. “Evenin’, kids.”

“Hello,” Lucerne said coldly. “Move your legs, Gabe, so the man can get through. I, you will notice, am not in the way. That guy,” she added after Scion had pushed through the doors into the library, the blackbird on his back glaring down at them, “gives me the creeps. I always thought his name sounded like a cryptic clue, actually.” She stretched and wiggled into a sitting position against the lion’s high-flung neck. “I’ll see if I can make something of it.”

“It’s going to be dark in a few minutes,” Gabe said. “I hope you didn’t ride your bike clear over here.”

“Of course I did. And, yes, I was going to ride it back in the dark until you graciously offered to take me. The bike does have a headlight, you know, and I always carry a cell phone for emergencies.



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