One girl. Two cats. A world full of adventure.
Abbernathy Tells is a twelve year old girl who prefers the companionship of her two cats and a dying tree over others her age. When a horrible tragedy strikes on her thirteenth birthday, robbing h...
A bowl sat next to Crum, melting ice cubes giving off that eerie shade of blue, a strong chemical smell wafting from the liquid.
Soothing draft, Abby thought as her eyes went to the damp rag nestled between Crum's thighs. To help his area. A triumphant smile slithered across Abby's face.
"So, how's your crotch?" she asked, full of glee. "That was your fourth- no fifth- time meeting my shoes right? Why you and they must be good friends by now."
Crum rolled his eyes at her again, the faintest blush creeping onto his cheeks. He ran an unsure hand through his glorious puff of black ringlets, pushing back the few that fell in front of his ears.
He would do this often when they rode into town, seducing girls without doing much of anything. It disgusted Abby how easy the boy had it. It also entranced her-- not Crum, but his hair-- and the way it always looked so springy.
"Hey! What're you doing?" Crum asked, sinking further into the chair.
Abby hadn't noticed but she'd grown dangerously close to the boy, his hair calling out for her touch. Her eyes were inches from his and in shock, she shot up, jumped back and hit the edge of her father's desk, toppling over a few piles of papers. She quickly needed to change the subject.
"So I'm supposed to apologize to you," she said, watching Lucy weave in between her legs; he swatted his tail at her calves as if to keep her on task. He wore today's ribbon proudly and the girl reached down to give him a quick rub. Crum snorted in disgust.
Lucy simply smiled a cat's smile-- which is always housed in their eyes-- which read:
"Now I know you're just jealous. You wish Abby would be as kind to you as she is to me. But you haven't a speck of fur or an ounce of fashion sense, and bows would look horrid around such a thin neck. Sorry."
"So apologize, Abbernathy," the terrible boy spat, her name slowly spilling from his lips like tar, each syllable drawn out for her displeasure.
Another smack of Lucy's tail kept her from throwing her father's leather bound ledgers at his face. With a steeled nerve, balled up hands, and through very clenched teeth, Abby spoke the words she least liked to say.
"I'm s-o-r-r-y."
As she apologized, a strange smiled parted her lips, pulling them too taut across her face, splitting her head almost in half and distorting her rounded features. She was showing teeth, too many and too much of them.
Lucy watched as her face contorted in a most unpleasant manner, transforming his beloved master into a monster best suited for Mingare Plains. Lucy nipped at the white stocking around her ankle.
Your face, love. Your face. It's just dreadful. Do right it, so as not to frighten the villagers.
"What's wrong with you?" Crum asked as he got out of the chair, elegantly striding over to Abby, far too close for the girl to be comfortable. He shuffled the pens on her dad's desk before touching the large Jacquer fish mounted behind her father's leather chair.
"Why must you touch everything?" she chided, swatting away his hand with a rolled up bank statement.
"Why must you make the stupidest faces?"
Abby's face fell into a grimace. "I don't do well apologizing to crumbs."
"To my knowledge, you don't do anything well," the boy remarked.
Abby eyed the books behind her father's desk. She didn't have her shoes but a book hurled at Crum's crotch would do just as well to coax that beloved 'drowning worm' look onto his face.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Crum spoke up, moving away from the girl. She had another smile on her face, a very satisfied, very mischievous smile.
Through the windows in the hallway, Abby saw the sun setting behind the hill. Evening was upon them, dinner, brown bark tea and butter biscuits, sitting on the veranda, relishing in the salted breeze the rolled in off the Port. Now would be the perfect time to visit Simon. Deciding to do so, the girl moved past Crum and towards the door.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"You're boring," she called back before grabbing one of Mimi's shawls off the hanger and slamming the door behind her.
Crum was left awestruck; Abbernathy Tells had been the rudest and most difficult girl he'd ever encountered. But his gaze kept swinging back to the door as though drawn by some invisible magnet.
Before he could think much on his reasoning, his mind had been made. He got up and, breaking away from his usual slow, elegant stride, rushed out the door.
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