Free Broken by David H. Burton Page A

wanted to get to my
aunt’s house.
    I don’t know why it seemed so urgent now. It was like I
was racing to find safety there. I didn’t know I would be any
safer at Aunt Marigold’s than anywhere else. Her roof could
cave in, or a jet engine could drop out of the sky the moment I
turned twenty-four.
    I sat quietly, looking out into the dawn as we drove.
     
    By the time we reached Aunt Marigold’s house, the sun had
just finished cresting the horizon. It was one of those old
thatched roof homes nestled in the trees. It was set amongst the
typical English cottage garden filled with delphiniums and
hollyhocks. There was a faint hint of mint to the air.
    We approached the iron gates. Chris lingered behind.
    “You sure this is the place?” he asked, looking
around.
    I nodded. I remembered it well. It was like nothing had changed
in the last seven years.
    I pushed open the gates. They creaked, but not horribly.
    There was a slight breeze that made the wind chimes ring close
to the house. The flowers here were beautiful and I stopped to
watch as a couple of finches swept down from one of the cherry
trees. This place was simply right. It held the magic that my heart
remembered well. I closed my eyes and inhaled it. I almost felt
like I was sixteen once more.
    I ambled through the garden, following a path that wound around
the house. It was still fairly early, and I didn’t want to
wake my aunt. It wasn’t like she was expecting me.
    A few statues of faery-like creatures were scattered about and
there was a small pond off to one end. The garden was still
well-tended.
    As I wrapped back towards the front of the house, the door
opened. The woman that stepped out was exactly as I remembered her
— curly hair that was white as cotton. Her face still looked
youthful and a few smile lines wrinkled the corners of her eyes as
she saw me. She raised her jewel-bedecked hands towards me.
    “Oh, you made it, luv! You made it!” Her voice still
had that musical ring to it.
    Her words made me think that perhaps she’d been expecting
me. Regardless, I smiled. It was nice to be welcomed somewhere.
    “Hello, Aunt Marigold,” I said and hugged her. She
was hardly a frail woman, and her embrace was like that of a bear.
She smelled of lilac.
    “Oh, child, I’m so glad you came. Just in time,
I’d say.”
    This was the point where I knew I needed to ask.
    “You were expecting me?”
    “Oh, yes. I’ve been sending Brokk to you for years,
but it’s gotten more urgent lately.”
    “Brokk?” I asked.
    “Well, yes,” she said. “You remember Brokk,
don’t you?” With her crooked index finger she pointed
towards a statue in the garden. Next to it stood the little green
man.
    I wasn’t sure what to do with that. My Aunt had been
sending little mysterious creatures to get my attention?
Couldn’t she have phoned? Maybe sent a letter? But then, she
had
been sending them. And I had ignored them.
    “
You
sent him?” I asked.
    I heard Chris approach from behind and I realized I hadn’t
introduced him.
    “I’m sorry, Aunt Marigold, this is—”
    “Chris. Yes, I know, dear. I sent him as well.”
    My eyes popped out of my head.
    What?

Chapter 12

     
    At this point, my mind almost started to spin. I reached out to
grab the house to stop myself from falling.
    Aunt Marigold had sent Chris? What the hell was going on?
    “I think I need to sit down,” I said. I stooped to
sit on the ground, but my aunt’s firm hand grabbed me and
gently escorted me into the house.
    I wasn’t paying attention to what had changed here. I just
needed to sit.
    She sat me down in a wooden chair at the old kitchen table. I
put my head in my hands.
    What I needed right now was a good strong dose of Dr.
White’s Crazy Pills and a big long sleep. Maybe I’d
wake up and find this was all a dream. I thought about clicking my
heels together because this sure as hell wasn’t Kansas
anymore.
    I looked at Chris. His eyes refused to meet mine.
    “Chris,