Among the Fallen - Episode Seven
In Episode Seven of Among the Fallen, Wendl VonTrier explores Ellajane Trammell's herb garden and Ellajane takes the path less traveled by.
Watch for Wendl in my upcoming novel, The Winged Child.
In Episode 7 von Unter den Gefallenen erkundet Wendl VonTrier den Kräutergarten von Ellajane Trammell und Ellajane nimmt den weniger befahrenen Weg.
Achten Sie in meinem kommenden Roman The Winged Child auf Wendl.
INTO THE WOODS
Ellajane glanced out her kitchen window. Where did the afternoon go? The narrow band of trees between her yard and Bernice Adams on the next street already cast a shadow across her herb garden. A figure bent over one of the beds, inspecting her artemisia. A second look verified it was her enigmatic renter, Wendl VonTrier. Although it violated her self-imposed house rule, she thought she might invite him in to share her supper. She was eager to discuss Millicent McTeer’s marvelous book he had loaned her, and which still filled her head with mysteries and miracles.
She found it hard to fathom that the world Millicent described in The Forest Soul, so deep and complex and miraculous, was the very same world Ellajane had lived in all her life, although that world, too, contained charms and beauty enough to elicit gladness and love. She was grateful for her garden and her life, and for the most part, content with it as it was, but if Millicent’s book was something more than a fairytale, there was a lot that Ellajane Trammell had overlooked on her journey to the present.
She set two plates on the table, looked out her window again. The renter was nowhere in sight. She added water to the kettle so she could make more tea. A meatloaf was already in the oven. She wondered if it were enough for the two of them. She had observed that the spindly Wendl could disappear a prodigious amount of groceries. Ellajane had lettuce. She would make a big salad. Wendl always ate his green stuff first.
When her timer chirped and she pulled the meatloaf out of the oven, she still had not heard Wendl come in. She stepped out her back door and called as loud as she dared, “Wendl…Mister VonTrier?” Ellajane hoped Bernice hadn’t heard. Her gossip-hungry neighbor kept her keen eyes and ears ever tuned in the direction of Hemlock Cottage.
Only frogs and crickets answered her call, so Ellajane stepped down into her dusky herbarium among the rosemary and marjoram, chives and chamomile and a few dozen other species and varieties flavorful or medicinal. She looked back toward the house. The window in her gable, the rental room window, was dark. Her paying guest must still be out here someplace.
She peered into the deep shadows among the trees, saw a flicker of light through the branches, perhaps from Bernice’s house, then noticed a little path she had never seen before, winding from her garden’s edge up through the trees. It must be new, Ellajane thought. Had Bernice Adams been poaching her herbs. “You only need ask,” she said to the trees.
On impulse, Ellajane plunged ahead along the path, as if she might catch her neighbor slinking down to her garden, shears and basket in hand. She expected every step, to see the light again from Bernice’s window and step out into the neighbor’s yard, but when she stopped and looked back toward her own property, she couldn’t see her garden at all. Ahead, the dimming path wound only deeper into the rising night. Continued on November 8…