A MYSTERIOUS GARDEN
I came to visit my Uncle Nave at his brilliant residence, Hobart Manor. When I arrived, the four story mansion was empty. No Servants, no uncle Nave.
I wandered through the place finding doors open and attics locked. The furniture had all been stacked upon each other as if they towers or ladders. Windows in the house were open and would not let me close them.
uncle Nave 's study was bare, contrast to last visited. None of the paintings he'd been working on were there except the one of the garden.
But there hadn't been a garden at this house for years. Since Aunt Lana died. The garden had been her obsession. She had built the garden with her designer from Argentina. Soon after the garden was built, the designer disappeared. Aunt Lana struggled with the upkeep. Son the sickness came. Everything died in the garden. Soon Aunt Lana passed. the Servants spoke of the garden as if it had been alive. Said it drained Lana of her life.
I didn't believe any of it. until this morning.
I touched the painting Uncle Nave had done of the garden. I heard my name being whispered. The watercolors were warm, breathing. My eyes were failing me, but when they came back from the blur, I was inside the garden that Uncle Nave had cut down years ago.
I walked for miles, seeing the same apple trees, dogwood and hedges nicely clipped. At ever hedge I turned a corner. A new beginning. I could hear voices calling to each other, crying out for help. I recognized a few as Servants belonging to Uncle Nave. I heard Aunt Lana 's voice as well. She told us we would never be apart again. Just as I had entered the garden at first, I thought I saw Uncle Nave walking ahead of me, leading me to every new hedge.
When I turn to find the footsteps behind me, I would catch a glimpse of a man watching, following. Then he would disappear.
I continue my journey to find the end of the garden.
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