So, as I return to my Katherine story, I also return to a regular blog of my short story, serial format. If you’re a fan of the serials tune in here each Saturday. If you need to catch up on any of the other serials, just use the category pull down menu on the side bar. Without further ado, here is part five of Katherine Suzanne, Walter’s sorrow
Walter was not sleeping. He was sitting at the table in the kitchen, nursing a glass of whiskey. He was not by nature, much of a drinker, but this night had been very confusing to him on so many levels. The whiskey burned in his throat and Walter made a small choking noise somewhere between a whimper and growl.
Landry’s letter…what was Jonathan thinking? Such a macabre story, such a sad fate, digging into it could only portend trouble for them. And on this of all nights…
“Figuring it out, then are you Walter? I knew the puzzle would get you going.”
It was Jonathan, apparently also not sleeping, come to see who was in the kitchen. Walter looked gloomily at him.
“Aw, come on. It’s not that bad. It was a 100 years ago.”
“Really, one doesn’t get over such a thing so quickly you know. I’m surprised at even your callous flippancy.”
Jonathan looked surprised, “Well I didn’t expect you to take it so personally.”
Walter looked hard at Jonathan and then his face softened, realization dawning, “You really don’t know. You’ve forgotten.”
“Tonight. This is the night that Janie…” Walter choked again and shook his head, taking another a long pull on the whiskey. It burned less aggressively this time and the knot in his stomach did begin to loosen just a bit.
Jonathan, for once speechless, sat down heavily across the table from Walter.
Walter sympathetically broke the silence, “You really didn’t remember, did you.”
Jonathan just shook his head.
Walter changed the subject, “So that girl, Kati. She really is something, isn’t she?”
Jonathan smiled weakly, “Did you think so?”
“Well, yes, I did.” Walter had rarely seen his friend so crestfallen and being genuinely touched by his own distress being the occasion for it, he found himself in the odd position of now wanting to cheer up Jonathan. “Really, actually I see that she’s very bright, isn’t she? and full of energy.”
Jonathan’s smile broadened, “Oh yes, she never lacks for energy. I knew if you gave her a chance you’d like her. You did like her didn’t you.”
Walter paused. Maybe it was the whiskey; maybe it was his desire to please his friend, but to his surprise he found he truly meant it when he said, “Actually, yes, I like her a great deal. I’m glad you brought her.”
Jonathan smiled and stood, “I knew. I just knew it.” Jonathan turned to go and then turned back suddenly serious again, “Look, Walter, if I had remembered I never would have brought up that stupid story; I mean I would have waited. Gosh, has it really been ten years since she died?”
Walter nodded, “Yes it has. Ten years since she died, and my sister a year later, as you recall. And not one good day since then. Not one.”
Jonathan shook his head, “You’ll see Walter. Tomorrow. Tomorrow will be a good day. You, me and Kati, we’re going to find that mine and it will be a good day. Well, sleep the sleep of the angels, my friend.”
Walter looked up suddenly, eyes glowing. He laughed, which was a sound so foreign coming from his mouth that Jonathan thought for a moment he was truly breaking down. “That’s right! That’s absolutely right. Jonathan, I know where the mine is.”