The Secret of Zormna Clendar - Julie Steimle (best autobiographies to read .txt) 📗

room. When she had been there last, there weren’t sheets covering all the furniture or cobwebs tangled around the high orb chandelier that hung from the vaulted ceiling. Now it looked like even the couches had become ghosts.

Nervous to be alone, Jennifer peeked into the kitchen, searching for Zormna. She was easy to spot. The girl had gone straight to work, quietly pulling open drawer after drawer, as well as the cupboards, one by one, searching the contents.

“You won’t find pillows in there!” Jennifer had only gone to the edge of the tile. She didn’t dare set foot on it, in case her steps echoed. “It’s a kitchen!”

Zormna cast her a dry I know that look, and continued searching. “You can go look for pillows. I am searching for the legal documents.”

Retreating, Jennifer took in a sharp breath. Of course. That was really what mattered. It must have been true reason Zormna had come along.

“Do you really think they’d be in the kitchen?” Jennifer asked.

Hardly looking back at her, Zormna opened the oven next. “You never know. If my great aunt wanted to hide something important, she could have created a secret compartment.”

Of course, Jennifer thought. A crazy paranoid woman who believed she was from Mars would make secret compartments. It probably took a relative to find them. So, thinking about pillows, Jennifer gingerly made her way back into the living room to figure out her options.

Muffled voices came from one of the upstairs rooms. She stiffened, looking to see if the intruders were coming. Half the upper floor-doors were visible from a balcony just above the stairs. It overlooked the living room. Gazing past the huge, hanging wood carving that dangled dangerously over the stairway, all Jennifer saw was the far railing. But that still meant she could not go upstairs for pillows—not unless she wanted to encounter other people breaking and entering. For all she knew, they could be armed and dangerous.

So she headed to the hallway to the right of the stairway. Maybe the house had a basement. She tip-toed.

Jennifer tried not to stir up too much of the dust on carpet. Her eyes were drawn to the famous wood carving swaying over her head. It swayed with every step those on the second floor made. Half a tree had been used in making the carving. It was long and flat like some kind of fresco. Up close, she could see all the detail: a stampede of horses charging through the desert with tumbleweeds, mesas, saguaros, road runners, jackrabbits, and kicked-up stylized dust clouds. It matched the paintings that adorned the other walls. Most of them were terracotta and sandstone landscapes of flat desert country of the old west—not something one would expect in the home of an Irishwoman in the Midwest.

Jennifer took another step closer, peering up at it as she attempted to pass under, hoping it would not fall on her head.

Zormna came out of the kitchen and began to search through the living room. She shot Jennifer a passing glance before continuing on. Zormna mostly pulled out drawers and looked behind paintings, occasionally lifting a dusty sheet.

She sneezed once, high and light.

“Is somebody there?” a voice from upstairs called out.

Both Jennifer and Zormna stiffened.

“I thought I heard someone.” Another voice echoed.

Heavy feet and the squeak of a door was all the notice either girl got. It was hardly enough time for Jennifer to collect herself. But Zormna sprang into the dining room and was out of sight before either man reached the balcony.

“Hey! What are you doing in here?” A man in a hard hat, wearing a blue collared shirt and a tie, glowered down at Jennifer. Another, taller man in a gray tweed suit stepped out after him. Both had to be at least in their forties. The man-in-the-suit’s hair was thinning.

Automatically, Jennifer’s cheeks flushed. Then her wits took over.

“Neighborhood watch.” She gestured back at the door. “You left it open. You’d better have a permit to be in here.”

She saw Zormna just inside the dining room doorway out of their line of sight smothering a chuckle. She nodded appreciatively at Jennifer for quickly thinking.

But the man-in-the-hat was not impressed. “Oh really? I didn’t know they let kids join the watch. You were sneaking in. Get out kid, before I call the cops.”

Scowling, Jennifer opened her mouth in protest.

“I said get out,” the man snapped.

Jennifer shook her head, rolling her eyes. She stepped toward the door with one under-handed gesture for Zormna to follow. Cringing, Zormna eventually nodded and marched out after her.

“Ha!” the man in the hard hat shouted. “I knew I saw somebody else! You two, if I ever see you trespassing here again I’ll—”

Zormna turned around with a scathing glare. “Gloating is unbecoming. And leaving the door open is unprofessional—whoever you are.”

And she tromped through the door.

“Hey! Wait!”

Jennifer and Zormna hopped down the porch steps to the grass, sharing urgent glances.

Feet thundered after them.

The girls turned quickly, preparing to run. But it was the man in the tweed suit that rushed up to them, and not the other one. Breathless, his pale blue eyes fixed mostly on Zormna.

“Are you…are you Zormna Clendar?” He seized his knees, panting.

Jennifer’s eyes widened.

And Zormna blinked at him, taking one step back.

Just as the girl opened her mouth to answer, the man in the hardhat strode out. His hands were in fists and his face twisted with disgust. “Mr. Earnhardt! What is going on? We still have the rest of the house to survey. Do you want me to evaluate it or not?”

Zormna turned a dark look on that man before gazing back towards the man in tweed, answering him. “What would be your intent if I were?”

The man in tweed burst into a nervous laugh, pressing his praying hands to his mouth. Relief and tears crested in his eyes.

“Wait a second.” The man in the hardhat looked from his compatriot, to the girls, then back. “What is going on? Who is she?”

The man in tweed said, “She, my friend, is the one I have been waiting for.”

 Zormna reeled back. Bracing herself for an attack, Zormna set her feet apart in the grass like a kung fu master. Seeing her, Jennifer stumbled out of the way, remembering the girl had gone to military school.

But the man in tweed, sighed more deeply. Gratitude watered from his eyes. He looked skyward as one saying ‘Praise the Lord’. But to Zormna, he said, “Please, calm yourself. What I mean to say is: I am your great aunt’s lawyer.”

“Oh.” Jennifer’s stiff shoulders eased. “That’s right. Mr. Hemmingway or something.”

“Earnhardt,” the man in tweed clarified. His smile was reassuringly friendly.

Zormna drew in a breath, loosening her fists. “I see.”

“Well, I don’t,” said the man in the hardhat. However, his expression had relaxed. “What does this mean for us? Do you still need my services?”

Automatically, Mr. Earnhardt apologetically shook his head. “I am sorry. But no. Now that the heir is here, your services are no longer required. I will, however, pay you for your time.”

Satisfied enough, the man in the hardhat cast Zormna another surveying glance before stepping past both girls. He extended one hand to the lawyer, and they shook.

“Good day to you, then.”

“Thank you for coming.”

And he was off. Though, not without another peek at Zormna. This time he checked out the curvature of her backside.

“Dirty old man.” Jennifer scowled, watching him drive away.

Mr. Earnhardt was smiling, but not at the same thing. His eyes had fixed entirely on Zormna. He was almost hopping like a kid.

“This is amazing. I mean, I know I was supposed to wait at least five years before even thinking about selling the place. And, to be quite honest, I never actually expected you to come. But she insisted. And now you are here! Fancy that!” And he laughed.

Zormna merely raised her eyebrows.

“So! She said you might just show up. But, uh, a little bit of prior notice would have been helpful.” He then checked his watch and glanced back at the inside of the house. “So, do you want a tour first, or…no wait. Where are my manners? Where are you staying? Do you have a place to stay? Because she said you might not have anywhere considering she’s your only family.”

“She’s staying with my family.” Jennifer waved her hand.

Mr. Earnhardt nodded, pointing at her. “You’re from down the street. Am I right?”

Jennifer rolled her eyes. “More like down several blocks.”

“What exactly was that man here for?” Zormna looked back to the road.

“Oh.” The lawyer’s face brightened at the lilt in Zormna’s voice. Jennifer could see it ticking in the back of his head as authentication of something incredibly valuable. “He’s a building inspector. In order to sell the place properly—which I would have done in about three years—I needed to make sure the house was in good condition. I was just getting a head start.”

Zormna stared at him dryly.

“Of course,” his tone going brighter, “Now that you’re here I don’t need to do that.” He leaned nearer to her in confidence, lowering his voice. “With the way the housing industry has been going, I was afraid I’d never sell.” He smiled again, winking. “Your arrival also makes it so I can claim my finder’s fee!”

Jennifer snickered. For a lawyer, he was a kind of a clown. Then again, thinking about it, he did work for a crazy woman.

Zormna emitted a longsuffering sigh.

And that sobered the man immediately. He nodded then peeked out into the street. “I’m guessing you have more solemn things on your mind.”

Nodding almost tersely, Zormna stepped back to the doorway, indicating that he ought to follow her into the house. That split second, Zormna seemed taller to Jennifer. And even older—like she was thirty. Was she really only fourteen?

Mr. Earnhardt and Jennifer followed Zormna back inside. With a nod to Jennifer, Zormna indicated for her to shut the door.

Jennifer obliged with a shrug, though it was awfully presumptuous for Zormna to be so bossy so soon.

Gesturing toward the dining room on the right, Zormna then marched in, tugging off a cloth from two of the chairs and pulling both chairs out from the table. She indicated for the lawyer to sit, if he would.

The man stared at her, amazed. And so did Jennifer. No matter how much she said she was one, Zormna did not act like she was fourteen years old. She acted twenty, at least. And though Jennifer could blame the girl’s military school training, there was something else about her, almost commanding. Something demanding respect.

The lawyer gently sat in the chair.

Zormna took the opposite one.

Jennifer lingered in the open dining room doorway, watching what she realized was a conversation just between this girl and a lawyer.

“About solemn things,” Zormna said to Mr. Earnhardt. “I had expected my great aunt to be alive when I arrived. What happened?”

Suitably grim, the lawyer gazed to his knees and shook his head. “I don’t know really. The police contacted me after it happened. I also spoke with the FBI.”

Narrowly, Zormna asked, “Can you tell me why the FBI came to visit my great aunt?”

He struggled for a few minutes to formulate an answer that he could vocalize. After meeting the blonde’s intimidating gaze a number of times, he finally said, “Look. You must know Asiah was, uh, an eccentric woman.”

Jennifer rolled her eyes.

Zormna peeked up at her and shook her head for her not to comment.

“Yes. I have heard rumors since my arrival.”

The lawyer chuckled. “Ok. You have heard the rumors. But, uh, now that you are here, maybe I can finally ask—what nationality is she? Really. Because no matter how often I asked, she always said she was from Mars.”

“Oh for…” Zormna set a hand to her forehead, cringing. “Irish. We’re from Ireland.”

He smiled, blushing weakly. “I figured as much. It was between that and Scotland was my guess.”

Zormna rolled her eyes with another look to Jennifer who was smothering a laugh.

“Anyway,” he said, “your great aunt had