The Tragic Tale of Teddy Woven Chapter 3

The gardening shed had all the necessary supplies. Teddy took a step back, allowing me to venture
into the darkened space to examine the gardening equipment. It was an unusually large shed, with a
few odd trinkets strung along the sides of the wooden wall. It was clean, a strange imitation of his
ancestral home that was just outside of his shed. “You should have everything you need in here,”
Teddy informed me in a clear tone of voice. “And I will leave the key on this hook.” He waited for me to
turn around, allowing my eyes to follow the slow movements of his arm before he latched the key ring
on a silver hook. “And you know where I will be if you are in need of me.”

“Yes,” I answered him quite breathlessly, for his visage was eclipsed in darkness from the natural
lighting of the shed. He stood there motionlessly for a moment, and then swiftly turned around to make
his way back towards the house again. An involuntary shudder seized me. My jaw clenched with the
realization that there was something alluring about me that Teddy could not ignore.

Bent on the need for a distraction, I pulled out the wrinkled note I wrote last night. Daphne described
the areas she would like me to focus on for this week, and I was ardent on following them to the letter.
A long green hose was unlatched from its holder, and slowly but surely, I pulled it out to bring the
nozzle to the edge of the house. I had to water the flowers first, so I thought to start at the front of the
house. The water gushed from the hose, spraying over the greenery of plants that had been shielded
from the drizzle of rain earlier this morning. I looked to the rugged brown door, and then the thick green
vines that curled around the edges of the right side of the house. Bird songs filled the air, high enough
for me to take in the clear blue sky. There were seldom any clouds now, and if I listened carefully
enough, I could hear the hush roaring of the sea. The sound of fingers pressing quickly over the piano
keys filled the air around the house as Teddy played his instrument. He was a talented pianist, the
accuracy of his execution as he played a piece by Beethoven only proved that. The window in the living
room was barely cracked open, allowing music to seep into the air and come wafting its way towards
me. I listened attentively, marvelled by the sheer sound that this man was able to produce.



I moved to the right more, finding the flowers had been well watered. My attention was soon focused on
a small section of yellow daffodils, watching them sway to the left and right as water poured down to
their very roots. The music continued to play at a quick pace, crazed and hurried as if this man was
holding his very breath. The depths of his passion were portrayed in his music, a world of emotion that
he tried to hold back. I moved to the corner of the house, only to find there were no flowers that needed
to be watered there. There was a strange sense of regret since I had to move further away from the
brick building, knowing the closest set of flower pots were at the very back of the house. The music
gradually became distant, and once I was standing over a circular rocky pathway with a green hose
dangling in my hand, the homeowner’s music was but a distant memory for me.

***

An hour and a half later I was trimming unruly hedges when I heard soft padding of shoes against the
grass. My hedge scissors were lowered to my waist after I turned around to face him. He was dressed
in the same apparel, though he looked more relaxed as the natural shelter of the brick wall blocked out
the harsh noon day lightening. “It is almost time for you to go,” he noted. “I suppose I can’t convince
you to stay.”

“I have to return to my regular job.” My arm was brought upwards to wipe sweat from my brow. I could
feel my dark brown hair clinging to the side of my face, since the heat from the sun caused me to sweat
profusely. “I will have to leave right at noon.”

“In another half an hour,” he noted, without ever looking at the time. He stood perfectly still, simply
watching me for a moment. “I think you should come inside for a break,” he suggested. His right leg
stretched forward, causing most of his weight to lean over to the left.

“I still have this to finish,” I pointed out.

“Come in for water at least.”



“Oh, alright.”

He nodded his head in contention, and then took a step backwards to create more space. I made sure
the hedge scissors were safely closed. Teddy watched me lay it down on the grass, for I was intent on
completing the task before I would have to leave his estate for the day.

He waited for me to take a place by his side. The movements of his feet were impeccably smooth upon
the grass, almost gliding in a way while he raised his chin upwards to admire the scenery.

“Teddy?” I called out to gather his attention. “Who taught you how to play?”

“My guardian.”

“Guardian?”

“Yes,” he murmured. He gave me a look to ensure I made no further inquiries. I turned my gaze
fearfully from him, allowing my eyes to take in the wall of his house that was hidden away from the
bright sunlight. “Tired?”

“Oh, it is the sun,” I confided. “I should have brought a hat.”

“It would help.”

“What will you do for the rest of the afternoon?”

He shrugged his right shoulder. “Paint, I suppose.” I noticed how he kept his gaze straight ahead,
almost not wanting to look in my direction anymore. “It is a fine day for it.”

“Do you ever get lonely?” I asked of him, after we turned a sharp right to strike the rocky path that led
to his front door. “Living out here alone?”



“I enjoy the silence of it all.”

I believed him for some reason; Teddy did not strike me as the type of person that wanted a
companion. The front door was gently pushed open, and then he instructed me to lay my boots on the
designated mat that had been cleaned while I was gone. He removed his shoes as well, letting me see
the large size of his feet as he stood there in dark burgundy socks. “We will go into the kitchen,” he
suggested. “If you would like to go to the washroom to freshen up, it is on your right.”

“I think I will go now,” I informed him. We parted ways once we reached the end of the hall, prompting
me to open the plain white door to step inside of the space. His washroom was incredibly narrow,
leaving me barely enough room to breathe. I found it flawlessly clean, however, taking note of the fresh
flowers he had trimmed for a tall white vase next to the sink. Lavender-scented hand soap was placed
over a circular bowl in the shape of a leaf; the mirror was short and narrow to let me catch a glimpse of
my wild hair. When I had first entered his house it was tied up, but now my stray brown hair had slipped
out of the tie to go over the sides of my head. I had short wavy brown hair; it reached the tips of my
shoulders when I let it all down. I decided to comb my fingers through it, and let my hair fall downwards
and to the sides. My hands soon cupped cold water to splash it over my face, letting the salty sweat
pour down my brow and go dripping into the large white sink. It took me a few more minutes to freshen
up, and once I was done, I patted a carefully folded towel over my face to have me nice and dry. Soft
brown eyes stared back at me in my reflection, calm and full of life as I gingerly smiled back at my
reflection. My fingers did their best to push back my bangs, and with that I dropped the towel in a waste
basket and left the tiny room.


62fb1bb41dcb31934bd49bda