Read The Turning for Free Online Page B

seem cheerful, but it still looked like a haunted house.
    Jim Crackstone had made quite a big deal about how many books they had in the house. But I hadn’t noticed any on my way here. So obviously, there were parts of the huge house that I hadn’t yet seen. Anyhow, there are books in my room. Two long shelves line one wall. I have to kneel down to read the titles. Nearly all of the volumes are old, and many are slightly dusty. Maybe dusting the books was what killed off Linda’s old vacuum cleaner. There are books about geography and old-fashioned adventure books for kids, books about the Roman Empire, novels, gardening books. I didn’t think they’d been chosen especially for me. I picture Linda scooping up armfuls of random books and bringing them up to my room. Like more furniture, in a way.
    I ran my finger along the spines of the books until one of them stopped me. That was actually how it felt, as if the book exerted a force that magnetically pulled my hand toward it. It was newer than the rest of the books, though the design was supposed to look vintage. It had an odd shape, thinner and narrower than a normal book. The cover was pale yellow cloth, stenciled with a bouquet of roses and, for some reason, a lighthouse.
    The title was Great Love Poems . I opened it to the first page. Someone had written an inscription in brown ink, in old-fashioned calligraphy with thick letters and lots of curlicues.
    From Romeo to Juliet. With all my love.
    I thought of the blind man and his wife. That’s what they’d called the couple who’d tried to escape and drowned. Romeo and Juliet. Linda had mentioned them, too. They’d all said that the drowning had happened in the 1920s.
    I looked to see when the poetry book had been published.
    1989.
    Well, I suppose there must have been more than one Romeo and Juliet on Crackstone’s Landing. Probably every couple thinks of themselves that way, especially when their parents aren’t exactly crazy about the idea of their being together. Like you and me, Sophie.
    Maybe some guy who stayed in the house for a while gave the book to his wife for her birthday and was trying to be all corny and romantic. I guess it didn’t work out all that well if Juliet forgot the book when she left.
    I put the book away and finished this letter to you. Then I lay down on my bed. The mattress was comfortable, and the sheets smelled clean and sweet. I shut my eyes for a moment, and when I opened them, I heard Linda calling me to come downstairs for dinner. Then I closed my eyes again. I heard a gentle tap on the door.
    “Dinner’s ready,” said Miles.
    “Dinner’s ready,” said Flora.
    “I think I’m going to sleep through it,” I said. I knew I should probably eat something. Since breakfast with my dad, I’d only had that sandwich Linda made. And it had been a long day. It seemed like years had passed since my dad and I had eggs and hash browns and toast in a diner near the docks. But even though my stomach was growling, I couldn’t seem to keep my eyes open. I slept through the night.
    I dreamed I was on the boat again, and the seagull was still shrieking. Only this time it seemed to be screaming Lucy Lucy Lucy....
    I remember waking up and thinking, I don’t know anyone named Lucy. The dawn was just beginning to lighten the sky. I heard seagulls, real ones. Then I fell back asleep.
    I’ll write again tomorrow. Meanwhile, sweet dreams.
    Love,
    Jack
    DEAR DAD,
    You’d like it here. The house is really nice, but to be honest, it could use a lot of work, and you’d be the perfect guy for the job. I’m just getting to know the kids. They’re very polite and nice, and I think it’s going to be fine. But they’re still a little shy around me. So far. I’m sure they’ll warm up when we get to know each other better. I’ll write more when I get more time. I’m still sort of tired from the trip yesterday.
    Love,
    Jack
    DEAR SOPHIE,
    My first morning on the island was warm and sunny. The