Escort For The Witch - стр. 8
For many centuries, the ‘Guardian’ Order has been monitoring the De Manshand lineage, collecting bits and pieces of the history of this unusual family, and often intervening in their affairs to avoid various troubles and tragedies. So it had been until Michelle, Sabrina’s mother, ran away with her newborn girl upon learning what fate Marie had had in store for the baby. This Marie was that very girl’s grandmother. And that’s when grandpa just couldn’t help himself. That’s when he outdid everyone in the order. I mean those who had ever meddled in the history of this ill-fated family and made their so-called ‘corrections’. He had offered Michelle his help. And she had gladly accepted it. They had first smuggled the newborn girl to the order’s secret hideout in New York City, and then grandpa had secretly taken her to Liverpool…
As for Michelle herself, she had returned home. She had wanted to put an end to the complicated De Manshand story. No one has seen her since.
Meanwhile, the girl grew up beautifully in the Venters family, which consisted of my grandfather and, as she believed, her twin brother Eric. I’ve played the role
of Eric’s best friend, who, aged ten, had moved with his parents from Liverpool to the beautiful city of New Orleans, Louisiana, USA. That’s where my relentless mother and passively-active father had followed their “old friend,” and incidentally, my biological grandfather, Alex Venters, and his newly acquired relatives.They had settled in a small but respectable-looking house near the Garden District, where they had lived until… Until Grandpa passed away. That was a year and a half ago now and was a devastating blow to our entire family. Especially to Sabrina. But Eric didn’t disappoint either! He began drinking so much that it was hard to tell whether his blue eyes were naturally blue or just from what he was drinking. And then he got involved with a quirky girl named Sarah. She was a
“free-spirited artist” or something like that. What kind of paintings did she make?
No one knew. The situation worsened with each passing day. They started drinking together, while Sabrina, once tall and sun-kissed, began to resemble a hunched coat hanger draped with a worn-out t-shirt.
Sabrina persistently called me, berating me for ignoring my friend and letting him ruin his life. I felt powerless because Eric never listened to me, it was hard watching Sabrina cry, huddled in a kitchen corner. Eventually, when my patience ran out, I grabbed Eric by the collar and literally dragged him into our family therapist’s office; the therapist also happened to be my father. After a long and, in my opinion, overly intellectual talk, Eric’s common sense returned, but he didn't change his habits. He did substantially reduce his drinking though. But cutting back on alcohol led to a side effect. Eric’s mood soured and he started arguing with Sabrina more, resulting in her calling me more often to vent. I should remind you that Sabrina and I had never particularly liked each other. I had snapped at Eric a couple of times, and at his girlfriend, as she was going through yet another
“creative crisis”, thus becoming his worst enemy for a whole five days until…On Saturday, August 28th, at eleven o’clock in the evening, my cellphone rang, and in response to my “Hello” I heard drunken, incomprehensible muttering. All I could get from that strange monologue was that Eric had been in some bar on Bourbon Street feeling very, very bad and sad. He had quarreled with Sarah and decided to drown his sorrows in some old-fashioned “Blackened Voodoo.” Business as usual.