WOLFSTONE

WOLFSTONE

Sarcastic, remorseless, devious, unreliable…all words to describe my extraordinary incarnation as Beal Nartone, otherwise known as the “Man on the Hill.” The reason being, I lived in the huge stone house on the highest hill in the county, visible from all three of the little villages that clustered near the base of the rocky prominence. I’m sure my ancestors built the monstrosity up there to intimidate, plus the circuitous route that wandered once all the way around the hill, lined with an imposing stone façade on the uphill side of the road, topped with carved, snarling wolf heads every twenty yards, was definitely designed to impress anyone who would approach the estate.

A bit of a cliché? I’d say it was a very calculated one, but several centuries out of date in the 2000’s. These days, with the right candlelight inside, and a low-angled full moon on the exterior, it manages to be downright romantic. As for the snarling stone animals that dominate the walls, the balustrades, and high arched entrances; a forward-thinking great uncle planted climbing roses everywhere to soften the effect. I find it quite pleasing, besides the fragrance that pervades on a warm summer evening. Most romantic.

After all, the place is called “Wolfstone.”

Caring, compassionate, fair, and devoted are words that describe Evalynne Nartone, younger sister of Beal. Born nearly 15 years after her brother, Evalynne’s mother died from complications shortly after giving birth, leaving Beal to care for the infant, whom he blamed for the loss of his mother. The children’s father, old master Nartone, lost in his own grief, displayed a total indifference to the teenager struggling with an underpaid wet nurse, and a household staff that cared little for their employers, or the idea of helping care for a tiny infant that screamed her displeasure at all hours of day and night.

Disastrous results were never far behind the decisions Beal made as he matured, passing through elementary and high school with an ever widening group of personal enemies, frustrated teachers, and a household staff that changed constantly; often leaving in disgust after numerous confrontations with the old master and his arrogant, rude teenage son.

Everyone loved the beautiful little girl, Evalynne, but even her sweet disposition and obvious need for love and affection was not enough to make more than a few endure the terrible behavior of the masters of the house called Wolfstone..