| Subject: Empty Reflections-Prologue |
Author:
Karen
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Date Posted: 14:52:42 08/05/08 Tue
A/N: For those of you who’ve asked about this story I’m sorry it took so long. I think I’ll go back to work I had more free time then. Two important things you need to know 1) Yes this is definitely a Harm and Mac story LOL. And 2) Everything in the story is there for a reason.
This story is third in a series that started with Where or When then next in the series was Minds Eye. In this story, I brought back Sheriff Ben Farraday because I like him.
The story has lots of twists and turns I hope it entertains you all.
Empty Reflections
Prologue
Heatherly House
Northern England
Summer 1975
“D’you hear that?” eight-year-old Michael Stanley whispered to his friend.
“What?” inquired seven-year-old Polly Morgan, as they crouched in the bushes under a window of the ancestral home.
“His words,” Michael answered. “They sound different.”
“I know, I can’t hardly understand him,” the sweet faced little girl replied, wrinkling her nose.
“We could learn to talk like that,” Michael offered contemplating a future he didn’t quite comprehend. His mind was subconsciously working years in advance of his experience.
“Why?” Polly shrugged, with only moderate curiosity.
“So we could get away,” Michael supplied.
“Where’d we go?” Polly’s fascination was piqued if not fully accepting.
“Someplace where I don’t have to tend stupid sheep all my life, and you don’t have to get beat on by your husband.” In referencing their empty future, Michael nearly dropped his thick Yorkshire accent, and replied in a very close approximation to the haughty upper class English they had heard. It was an incomplete and rough imitation, only hinting at the gift he would develop for languages and accents.
“Wow,” she giggled aloud at his accomplishment. Her absolute hero worship of her friend caused Polly to completely miss the underlying meaning of his words. Then realizing what she’d done she clapped both hands over her mouth as if to reclaim the wayward sounds.
“Shhhh,” Michael warned. “If they catch us here we’re in big trouble.” He leaned back towards the window and returned his attention to the conversation in the library.
The brown-eyed girl nodded, still holding both hands over her beautiful, pouty, little mouth. Soon, she grew impatient. Dropping both hands to Michael’s arm, she pulled gently, attempting to regain his attention.
The talk inside had been about something called politics and the Queen’s family. There had been something about stocks and bonds. This frightened the boy somewhat, because the only reference to stocks in his memory was an old movie he’d seen recently on the small TV set at Polly’s house and some books his mother had read to him. Bad men were put in the stocks. Still the speech patterns fascinated him. A small corner of his mind told him this would be important, and it was hard to tear himself away, even under threat of being caught and punished.
“What?” he responded when she shook his arm slightly. His young voice held deep patience in the face of the inconvenient interruption. Polly was his friend, his companion, nearly a sister, but not quite. She existed as a need that had been part of him since they were babies.
“I’d be afraid,” Polly confessed.
“Afraid of what?” Michael queried.
“Of going away. It’d be scary. Where’d we go?”
“I don’t know yet, but don’t worry,” he patted her hand in a display of juvenile heroics. “I promise I’ll always take care of you. Now let me listen, it’s almost time to go home.”
She nodded and silently tucked herself close to him for safety. Together they listened for another half hour. It was only the beginning of Michael’s fascination with the world beyond their parents’ tenant farms in the Yorkshire dales.
In the years to come, as fast as he learned a new language, a new accent, or dialect, whenever he gained any useful information, he taught it to Polly. She proved to be an apt student, matching his own quick mind if not his innate talent. Polly learned by rote what Michael absorbed instinctively. In school, they concentrated closely on their lessons. Michael excelled in geography, art, and literature. Polly’s interest tended toward the areas of mathematics and world affairs. Their complimentary talents would prove most useful to their unformed quest.
It would be far in the future before Michael would realize the full cost of his childhood promise.
End prologue
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