Read Online Journals of the Secret Keeper by Jennifer L Ray - Free Book Online

She
instinctively knew there was a race on. She felt an
urgent need to read the journals quickly and find out
as much as possible.
Martha Thompson's presence
lent another edge to her uneasiness and she knew
the secrets that Mama Jean had guarded until death
were important and would make a difference. She
also knew that Martha Thompson, although being
her grandmother, was not a nice woman. She most
certainly was not a grandmother. She was just an
old woman who had made too many bad decisions
to turn it around. Willetta decided to listen to her
with her mind, but never with her heart.
#
Ms. Martha Thompson stepped foot in her
childhood home for the first time in thirty-five
years. She hid her amazement at the changes, and
followed Andrik up the stairs to her assigned room.
She grumbled the whole way about how she was
too old to be climbing stairs that went straight up.
"You changed everything else. Why didn't
you put some better stairs in here," she complained.
Andrik kept walking and ignored her. She'd
caused him to lose control once and that was the
only chance she would have. She had gotten too
much pleasure out of his anger. He couldn't
dispense that much energy on someone as lowly as
Martha Thompson.
"The first bedroom here belongs to Willetta.
You can have anyone of these bedrooms along this
hallway. The other side belongs to me," he said
haughtily.
Martha's eyes dilated as she straightened her
old back. She looked up into the dark face of the
young man towering over her. Something akin to
hate flashed across her face and Andrik stepped
back.
"There's an old fight still left in me, but the
one I should be fightin is dead. I ain't blamin you
for nothing, but if you want me to use you to take
up where they left off, that's fine. Otherwise, be
real careful what you say young man, cuz you don't
know what happened here. Just remember you
three generations behind me and four generations
behind my grandma and grandpa who lived here
first. This ain't no more your house than it is mine."
    Martha's voice had taken on a raspy whisper
that reminded Andrik of the witches who cast spells
in the scary movies he had seen as a child. His
intense dislike for the old woman became mingled
with fear. He turned abruptly away from her
piercing stare and descended the stairs in search of
Willetta.
#
    Willetta slipped into her car immediately
after Andrik and Martha entered the house. She
drove as fast as she could back to Mama Jean's
house. She parked her car sideways in front of the
dead Mulberry tree.
It took her no time at all to
find the handle and lift it.
This time she didn't
hesitate. She gingerly got to her knees and in the
gray light of late evening peered into the deep
interior of the old handmade casket. There were
books of all sizes, shapes and colors. Books from
different people from different time periods.
    Willetta had a college girlfriend who always
read the last two pages of a novel before she began
reading it. Willetta always felt this was grossly
disrespectful to the author and showed a disgusting
lack of depth. She was neither disrespectful nor
shallow. So, she fished out journals from the
bottom of the casket. The black ones made of
leather had to be the oldest ones. She got every one
of them out. There were twenty-five in all. They
were not of regular size. They were smallish
measuring about four inches in length and two
inches in width.
    The name on the inside covers indicated the
journals were written by William Thompson.
According to Ms. Martha, this must have been her
great great grandfather. Willetta was instantly
enchanted and intrigued.
She dusted herself off
and lovingly placed the journals in her trunk in the
spare tire case that held no spare tire.
She quickly
lowered the door to the journal grave and got back
in her car. She gripped the staring wheel tightly as
raw anticipation threatened to make her faint dead
away.
CHAPTER 14
    Volume 13, pg.1 (December 1910):
"Willetta crawled into Etta's quilt