The Invention of Everything Else by Samantha Hunt

Author:Samantha Hunt [Samantha Hunt]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 054708577X
Google: SMn-r_6MBloC
Amazon: B002ECETQI
Publisher: Mariner Books
Published: 2007-01-01T13:00:00+00:00

The house they'd rented sight unseen reflected Katharine and Robert's finances—a former grandness in steady decay. The house had been named Goldenfield, and indeed this held true as a modifier. On the approach, one is greeted by opposing fields of overgrown ragweed and straw, dotted with an occasional heliotrope or coreopsis. Inside the house, the molding is a touch battered. The paint has bubbled in places, flaking off the walls. Water has breached the slate tiles of the roof, leaving brown bursts on the ancient wallpaper, stalled stains on the ceilings. The kitchen is large enough to house thirty-five cooks if necessary. And out back a cement swimming pool that might once have beckoned is now drained. There is even a minor ballroom in the house, though we have not dared to use it: overhead, an enormous crystal chandelier dangles, barely hanging on to the old ceiling. The decay is captivating, at least to Katharine and Robert. My enthusiasm for the house is a bit more tempered, though from my bedroom window, indeed from every window of the house, I can hear the unstoppable sea.

I hadn't planned a long visit. I brought three suitcases, but they contain only one change of clothes tucked in among a number of electrical devices, tools, and gizmos in the making. I intend to get some work done during my abduction, as we three have taken to calling my vacation. So work I do, leaving my room for meals only and an occasional late-night constitutional by the shore.

Just before dusk on our third day, Katharine stages an interruption of tea while Robert is out walking—her second in a series of teas delivered surreptitiously to my room. She knocks very quietly. I can hear the silver items on her tray tremble while she waits for the door to open.

"Some nourishment, dear," she says, sweeping past me into the room. I watch her notice the tea tray she brought the previous day, its snacks and sandwiches still untouched.

"Please come right in," I say, though it's too late for that. She is nearly halfway across the room, clearing a spot for the new tray. Out the window we can both see Robert making his way through the yellow field, returning from his walk.

She turns and masters a face that registers only peace. "How is your work going?" she asks. We face each other eye to eye and for a moment there is silence. I am aware that my heart is pounding out a very loud message. "Please," it says, though I can't be certain which please it means. Please leave me alone, or just Please. Please.

"I've been running a number of tests and exams on myself to measure the health benefits of magnetic electricity on human biology, something I often consider," I tell her, turning away. "I can report that I am feeling magnificent. Would you care to try?"

"Donate my body to science?" she asks while raising her hand to her neck. She fingers the sinews there, the lower stem of her ear and her collarbone.

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