Read Online Outside In by Sarah Ellis - Free Book Online Page B

and fancy.
    â€œIs that a signal?”
    â€œNo,” said Blossom. “I’m just happy.”
    The first thing Lynn noticed in the cottage were the flowers. Flowers and leaves, vines and branches. Not in containers but stuck everywhere, between the doors, taped to the chairs, wound around the pipes, tucked behind the pictures and into the cords of the twinkle lights, braided into Larch’s hair and the collars of Artdog and Catmodicum.
    â€œLarch did the flowers,” said Blossom.
    â€œHey, Larch, they’re beautiful. Where did you get them?”
    â€œThe flowers come from our garden. One day the visitor can go there.”
    Looking into a darker corner Lynn noticed, emerging from the flowery ceiling, a creature suspended by his knees from a high pipe.
    Tron? Volumizing? He slowly jackknifed to a right angle, then grabbed the pipe and backflipped to the floor, landing lightly without a sound.
    Lynn blinked. He was manga come to life — narrow face, shiny black hair that fell into precise points as he flipped to the vertical, strong skinny body, bronze skin.
    â€œHey,” he said, narrowing his perfect anime eyes. “Lynn.”
    â€œHey,” croaked Lynn.
    It was a relief when one of the many doors opened and a comfortably ordinary man entered, plaid shirt, beard with an edge of gray, thick eyebrows, generally grandfatherish.
    He flung his arms out wide, sending several suspended bouquets of flowers flying.
    â€œIt’s Lynn, the visitor! I’m Fossick. Welcome to the cottage! Welcome to Arcadia. One feast, one house, one mutual happiness.”
    â€œA-r-C-a-D-i-A,” spell-chanted Larch, snapping his fingers.
    To Lynn’s astonishment, Fossick reached out and wrapped both her and Blossom in a giant hug. He smelled like leaves, crispy leaves in a pile.
    â€œDid I hear a rumor of festive doughnuts and an ice-cream cake?”
    â€œDessert, then the story,” said Larch.
    The family tackled the doughnuts and cake with gusto.
    â€œLarch knows words for doughnuts in foreign lands,” said Larch. Blossom and Fossick each held up a finger.
    â€œI know words for doughnuts in foreign lands: Kinkling, malasadas, bomboloni, zeppole, churros.”
    The dessert enthusiasm, however, was mild compared to their pleasure in the milk that Blossom pulled out of the grocery bag. Fossick poured mug after foaming mug and they all downed it with gusto, reminding Lynn of football fan beer drinkers. Catmodicum lapped milk out of a saucer and Artdog helped himself to a longjohn, taking it to the floor at Larch’s feet to nibble on.
    Lynn thought of Kas’s dog, Max, and how his every bite was weighed and monitored for maximum canine health.
    â€œIs it time?” said Larch. “Is it time for the story?” He pulled down his suit jacket sleeves and straightened his powder blue tie.
    â€œOkay,” said Fossick, shaking doughnut crumbs out of his beard. “Here we go. The day I found Blossom …”
    Larch hugged himself and squeaked. Tron gave a sigh that was borderline sarcastic. Lynn recognized that border. Lately at home she had been walking along it herself.
    Fossick glanced at Tron. “… was on an ordinary day.”
    â€œNo sign, no signal,” said Larch.
    There was a pause. Fossick raised one awning eyebrow at Tron.
    â€œNo prophesy, no portent,” said Tron. His voice came out as even as toothpaste.
    Fossick continued. “It wasn’t even a bin day. It was a returning day. I had done with returning and I was pushing the wheelie home. I had coins in my pocket.”
    â€œClinking,” said Larch.
    â€œClinking in my pocket. But then, passing by a dumpster, I heard another sound. I thought it was a kitten.”
    There was another pause.
    â€œI thought it was a kitten,” Fossick repeated.
    Tron was picking at the edge of his shoe, pulling the sole away.
    â€œDon’t wreck your shoes,” said