picture.
The old man shook his head and pointed to one of my mother’s friends. “The young woman that came in looked like her,” said the old man. I turned the photo over and tried to read my mother’s handwriting. The writing was a bit smudged but I could make out most of it, it read Maria Santiago.
“Maria Santiago…no, no that was her maiden name,” said the old man. “When she was married her name became Maria Wilson, she was a good friend of the family. Well, until she was killed a couple years ago in a car crash, and it was on Christmas Day, too.”
The old man sighed and shook his head. “Both she and her husband were killed and they left four kids behind to be raised by Maria’s parents,” the old man continued, reaching into his own wallet and pulling out a photo of the woman, Maria, and her husband along with the rest of the family. They had one daughter and three sons, and Maria’s parents were in the picture, too. The picture was faded but it was better off then mine, and I could see the faces more clearly.
One thing that bothered me about the picture was that the daughter looked very familiar to me. I asked, “What is the daughter’s name?”
The old man looked thoughtful for a moment, then he said, “I can’t remember the name but I could tell you a bit about her if you’d like.”
I nodded and the old man tried his best to describe her personality. “She was a very strong willed girl, and energetic too. She had said one day when I was over that she had wanted to be a doctor so that she could help people,” said the old man, staring at the photo. “She was very kind and gentle, but a while back her grandparent’s, her brother’s and herself were caught in a tornado. Something had happened in the tornado because she wasn’t the same afterword.”
Now the daughter was getting more and more familiar. But I still couldn’t put my finger on who she was. I paid the old man for his time and thanked him for telling me about the daughter, and then I left. But just before I got out the door the old man called me back and gave me a photo of just the daughter. Then he smiled and wished me luck on my search.
I went back to my bike and thought about the girl. Who was she? Why did her mother give the charm to my mother? And what does the writing mean by ‘Secret music, Secret box’? I knew I had to get away, right now, to some place quiet to think things through. I called my dad and told him I would be late getting home. I didn’t bother to tell him where I was going because I didn’t really know myself . I just kept driving until I came to a cliff that over looked the entire city, and then I sat down and tried to sort things out.
Chapter 9
Stephanie Wilson
Boston 5:20 pm Wednesday February 14 th 2029
“Steph, why are you training down here?” Kevin asked as he came down the stairs to the basement. I stopped hitting the punching bag for a second and grabbed my water and took a swig. Kevin was waiting for me to answer, he had more patience then I did when it came to getting answers.
“I’m blowing off some steam,” I replied, sitting down and taking another swig of the water. I looked up at him from where I sat. I could see that he had some dried blood on his knuckles and a bruise was starting to form around one of his eyes. “Although it looks as if you’ve already blown off some steam, what happen this time?”
“I was jumped by a couple guys in an alley on the way home,” he replied, then he smiled, “but I sure taught them a lesson.” Kevin was actually pretty tall for his age and it made him seem older, but when he smiled he looked much younger. I motioned for him to come and sit beside me, and he complied. I gently touched around his face and he
The old man shook his head and pointed to one of my mother’s friends. “The young woman that came in looked like her,” said the old man. I turned the photo over and tried to read my mother’s handwriting. The writing was a bit smudged but I could make out most of it, it read Maria Santiago.
“Maria Santiago…no, no that was her maiden name,” said the old man. “When she was married her name became Maria Wilson, she was a good friend of the family. Well, until she was killed a couple years ago in a car crash, and it was on Christmas Day, too.”
The old man sighed and shook his head. “Both she and her husband were killed and they left four kids behind to be raised by Maria’s parents,” the old man continued, reaching into his own wallet and pulling out a photo of the woman, Maria, and her husband along with the rest of the family. They had one daughter and three sons, and Maria’s parents were in the picture, too. The picture was faded but it was better off then mine, and I could see the faces more clearly.
One thing that bothered me about the picture was that the daughter looked very familiar to me. I asked, “What is the daughter’s name?”
The old man looked thoughtful for a moment, then he said, “I can’t remember the name but I could tell you a bit about her if you’d like.”
I nodded and the old man tried his best to describe her personality. “She was a very strong willed girl, and energetic too. She had said one day when I was over that she had wanted to be a doctor so that she could help people,” said the old man, staring at the photo. “She was very kind and gentle, but a while back her grandparent’s, her brother’s and herself were caught in a tornado. Something had happened in the tornado because she wasn’t the same afterword.”
Now the daughter was getting more and more familiar. But I still couldn’t put my finger on who she was. I paid the old man for his time and thanked him for telling me about the daughter, and then I left. But just before I got out the door the old man called me back and gave me a photo of just the daughter. Then he smiled and wished me luck on my search.
I went back to my bike and thought about the girl. Who was she? Why did her mother give the charm to my mother? And what does the writing mean by ‘Secret music, Secret box’? I knew I had to get away, right now, to some place quiet to think things through. I called my dad and told him I would be late getting home. I didn’t bother to tell him where I was going because I didn’t really know myself . I just kept driving until I came to a cliff that over looked the entire city, and then I sat down and tried to sort things out.
Chapter 9
Stephanie Wilson
Boston 5:20 pm Wednesday February 14 th 2029
“Steph, why are you training down here?” Kevin asked as he came down the stairs to the basement. I stopped hitting the punching bag for a second and grabbed my water and took a swig. Kevin was waiting for me to answer, he had more patience then I did when it came to getting answers.
“I’m blowing off some steam,” I replied, sitting down and taking another swig of the water. I looked up at him from where I sat. I could see that he had some dried blood on his knuckles and a bruise was starting to form around one of his eyes. “Although it looks as if you’ve already blown off some steam, what happen this time?”
“I was jumped by a couple guys in an alley on the way home,” he replied, then he smiled, “but I sure taught them a lesson.” Kevin was actually pretty tall for his age and it made him seem older, but when he smiled he looked much younger. I motioned for him to come and sit beside me, and he complied. I gently touched around his face and he
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