The Tragic Tale of Teddy Woven novel Chapter 14

The depiction was made in black ink, a detailed illustration of his house at some point in time. It appeared abandoned then, with tall weeds growing at the side of the house. The windows were boarded up with wood, and the shabbiness of the house was felt profusely the longer I stared at it.

“Not so long ago,” he revealed. “That it looked that way.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“No?” He questioned me with a playfulness to his voice. “Then I shall take credit for it.” Teddy straightened his back to bring himself to his full height. “This was a little more than five years ago.”

“I thought it was over fifty years at least.”

“No, at that time it was quite livable.” He looked over his shoulder at the closed doorway. “Thriving.” He averted his attention back to the hand-drawn sketch in front of him. “When my mother was still young and happy. When her father and the rest of her family were still alive.”

“Do you have any images of them?”

“I would have to go looking for them.” He left my side, intent on seeking out the images that would quench my curiosity. When he was gone I turned the page, too curious for my own good. It was a small depiction of Teddy as a child, probably between the ages of six or eight. He was a tall, wiry sort of boy with an unusual growth spurt. His clothes were shabby though, disorderly and worn out to the point that it looked too small for his frame. The strangest image of all was that he was holding a raggedy old teddy bear; it was pressed hard against his chest in a protective manner that matched the haunting sadness to his eyes.

“I couldn’t…” Teddy paused, realizing the image that I had discovered. His jaw clenched tightly and then he tore his eyes away from me to look out the open window.

“Sorry.” I shut the sketchbook closed and took a large step back.

“There is stuff in there that is private,” he growled. A hand reached downwards to snatch it off the table. “And I can’t locate the photo album. I think it’s in the cellar.”

“Should we go looking for it?”

His eyebrows arched upwards. “Look for it?” he echoed with a voice that was full of mockery. “No, Sela.” The sketchbook was tossed into the open drawer at the side of the table. “I think it’s time for you to go outside.”

“Teddy, I…”

He stepped away from me, burying his hands inside of his trouser pockets. The door was soon pushed further back, a tell-tale sign that it was time for me to leave the art room.

“I’m sorry,” I finished off. “I went too far.”

He never made a word when I bypassed him, he simply watched me place on my rubber boots with an overwhelming sense of guilt.

“Teddy!” I called out, for I hated the distance that stretched between us. “I really am sorry for snooping.”

“It was a mistake leaving it there with you.”

I pursed my lips tightly, wishing there was something I could do to make the situation better.

“You trusted me,” I pointed out. “And I ruined that trust.”

The man was silent as he stood in front of the art room. It was the first time he had ever allowed that door to be open, and I because of my own curiosity I may have stopped him from taking the chance to open up to me more. My curiosity had gotten the better of me. Luna padded down the hallway, heading towards the music room where Teddy and I had first sat down to have a proper conversation. How long ago it felt, but it had been just days since we first met. I forced my gaze to shift to the right, noticing that he had trouble looking at me. There was pain coursing through him, and I realized then that his anger had turned to another direction.

“Teddy!” I called out yet again. “Please, can we talk some more outside?”