Free LeOmi's Solitude by Gene Curtis Page A

spoon, “Enough!”
    * * *
    Bekka wrote “Stalemate” in her notebook and
underlined it. Neither LeOmi nor her Grand-Mère will relinquish
their personal treasures and traps to each other. They are truly
from the same blood, but time will tell, for both of them.
    * * *
    Over the next few months, life went on as
normal except that LeOmi trained harder. She still had all the
equipment that Henry had given to her and she had made a place in
the old stables among the empty horse stalls and the old carriage.
As long as she didn’t move or take anything she was sure that she
would not be bothered
    LeOmi spent most of her other waking time
studying books that she had checked out from the parish library.
Sumerian history was interesting, but there weren’t a whole lot of
documents that were relevant. Most everything was financial
dealings, weddings, births, deaths and inventory of belongings
—from camels to pounds of salt.
    The Journal that Yvonne Jones had purchased
was only partially translated but it had been considered just a
family chronicle. It was officially logged as: A Sumerian Cuneiform
Journal uniquely assembled with artistic nuances. It was on leather
and bound with fragile leather bindings. The remarkable thing was
that it had been reproduced during the time of the Spanish
Inquisition and the reproduction was the portion that had been
translated. Both books: the Sumerian Cuneiform Journal and the
translation had been a package deal but the original was still left
in the care of the Calcutta Library in India, until arrangements
could be made for its removal. So whoever she had purchased it for
was still waiting to remove it, probably because the police would
consider that person a suspect in her murder.
    The Library of India was happy to continue to
lodge the original at its current location, but the replica was not
in the Calcutta Library. LeOmi’s mother had taken that with her
upon finalizing the bidding and payment. At present its whereabouts
were unknown.
    The same questions were compounding with more
and more side questions. Did she steal the money from Compton? Will
he pick it up or will he kill whoever else goes to pick it up? Does
he have the other Journal? If not him, who? But it must be Compton.
He had the money, and after all, wasn’t that why she had gone away
with him? Or was it?
    “There must be answers somewhere.”
    Dad. Is this what she left for? To steal a
fortune to purchase an old book?
    She expected to hear something from either
her sister or her brother, at least after she had been accepted to
The Seventh Mountain. Maybe they were staying away since it was a
conditional acceptance. I wonder how many students there were with
conditional acceptance. There are almost seven billion people in
the world; the ratio is probably not something that she wanted to
think about. She would make that one of her first questions if she
was allowed to ask questions.
    * * *
    The one week mark, before Orientation was
scheduled to begin, there was a book on her night stand when she
woke-up. The Seven Pillars of Wisdom and it looked like it
was well used. There was an olive twig placed on it. The
inscription read, “Proverbs of Wisdom to LeOmi from Bekka.
Congratulations! There was no copyright or date of publication
page. There wasn’t even an author or stamp. It was like it had been
compiled for someone—probably for Bekka or maybe by Bekka. So many
questions.
    * * *
    There were no lengthy goodbyes from anyone.
The Sergeant didn’t make an appearance. The last night at
Grand-Mère’s table was the same as usual—the cold shoulder
treatment, so LeOmi gave it right back, and Hannah had stopped
talking to her at all, since that night of the borrowing without
permission speech–probably on orders from Grand-Mère. Hannah might
have accidently told me something of the family’s past.
    That night at dinner though, after LeOmi had
packed everything and placed her trunk and backpack by the door of
her room