The Search for Artemis - By P. D. Griffith Page 0,111
they had last read. Throughout the past hour he tried a number of times to decipher the meaning of the random letters and spaces on the page but garnered no success in figuring anything out. His mom had taught him his ABCs, but he had no idea how they worked to make words. He just stared at the page, hoping the story would flow into his brain. Eventually, he resigned himself to waiting until the next day to find out anything else. He gazed at the fan on his ceiling, watching the blades whirl around and around, hoping to fall asleep.
All the while, Landon heard the low mumbling of his parents in the living room. They were arguing again, but Landon couldn’t understand anything they were saying. It happened so often that it had almost become a necessary drone for him to fall asleep, like the sound of crashing waves on the beach or of rain as it hits the window pane.
He didn’t understand what caused the bickering and fighting between his parents. His mother always separated him from it, either putting him in his room when possible, or having him put headphones on and listen to music while he played on the floor. As Landon began to drift off to sleep, his mother burst through the door and his father’s loud voice blasted into the room. She shut the door, and with a faint click, locked it. Her body was pressed against it, her chest heaving as she audibly breathed in and out. Her eyes were shut. Mr. Wicker could still be heard screaming from the living room, and when something heavy crashed into the door, her entire body constricted.
“Mom?” Landon was now sitting straight up in the bed with his bandana still on and his pirate sword ready in hand. “Mom? You ’kay?”
Landon’s mother opened her eyes. When she saw Landon sitting there, her tense face relaxed. On occasion she came into his room after she’d put him to bed, but this was the first time he’d ever asked about her with concern. “Oh, Landon, yes, everything is fine,” she said in a mellow tone. She walked over to the bed and sat down beside Landon. Feeling the vibrations of his mother’s shaking body, he looked up at her.
After a few deep breaths, Mrs. Wicker turned over toward Landon, who still carried his plastic pirate sword at the ready. “Whoa, stand down young, dread pirate Lanny. All’s well on the home front.” As she spoke, she took the sword from Landon and placed it on top of the sheets. “Now, what are you still doing awake my little man? I think I put you to bed at least an hour ago, and here you are as if I hadn’t even tucked you in yet.”
“I can’t sleep.” Landon gave a little shove to the book still sitting on his lap. “I wanna know what happens to Jim and Long John Silver.”
“Ah, so that’s it,” Mrs. Wicker replied. “We did end right in the middle of everything today, didn’t we? Well, since I barged in on you like this and you are awake, I don’t see any harm in reading a bit more.”
Landon grabbed the book from his lap and handed it to his mother. She took it and slid under the covers next to him. Feeling the familiar warmth of her body against his, Landon nuzzled right up to her side.
“Are you sick, momma?” Landon asked. She felt warmer than usual.
“No, I’m fine, just a little worked up is all. I’ll be right back to normal in no time, especially after we’ve taken a journey on the high seas of the Caribbean.”
For the next hour Mrs. Wicker read to Landon. He stared at the words in the book, getting lost in the story that Mrs. Wicker read from its pages. As she read, he imagined himself alongside Jim Hawkins, fighting off pirates on the Hispaniola, searching for Captain Flint’s long buried treasure and leaving the mutinous pirates marooned on Treasure Island as he sailed away with Trelawney and his loyal men.
“Momma,” Landon interrupted his mother mid-sentence. “Why does Jim keep going back to the bad man?”
Sitting there beside him, his mother leaned forward and closed the book. She softly touched Landon on the cheek. “That’s a great question, honey. Why do you think he goes back to Long John Silver?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because he doesn’t seem all bad, I guess.”
Mrs. Wicker smiled and looked at Landon, her little