Just Wait and See: Chapter 3

~ by M. C. Pehrson

As the autumn nights grew cooler, a golden haze settled over the Valley. Though Papa had not yet married Christina Kester, Tommy’s trials served to bring everyone closer. It was not unusual to see Papa take the pretty widow in his arms and hold her tenderly. As the wedding approached, Papa’s faith in God also seemed to grow deeper. In addition to teaching high school and grading papers and lending the Kesters his support, he made sure they all got together and prayed as a family each day — a decade of the rosary or a novena prayer. All this left him little time for his personal research, but for once, he did not seem to mind.

Emma’s plummeting school grades were another matter. She waited until bedtime to show Papa the note from Sister Veronica. He had just tucked her in and delivered a goodnight kiss. Now, his dark eyes snapped at her, and he stood there, demanding to know why his “straight A” daughter was suddenly in danger of failing.

Ashamed, Emma let loose a rush of excuses. “I… I can’t concentrate on my work anymore. And sometimes at night, I wake up. I get scared.” It was all true, every bit of it. “I… I hear things, Papa!”

He gave her a skeptical look. “Things? What sort of things?”

Just last night, she had huddled under the covers, half-frightened out of her wits. “I don’t know…but it moves! I can hear it…out in the living room… and sometimes it comes up to my doorway!”

Let me guess,” Papa said in a cross voice. “The villain, John McCormack.”

Emma shrank deep into her pillow. It had been years since Mama died of cancer, but at times Emma still fantasized about her doctor. John McCormack had become a dangerous villain who came out of a foggy tunnel in her closet.

No,” Emma insisted, “not this time. It… it’s something else. Papa, it’s real!

Papa studied her face and seemed to realize that she was truly frightened. “Emma, you’re just imagining things. Houses make noises at night. Wood will contract as the air grows cooler. It’s nothing to be afraid of.” He glanced down at the teacher’s note, and his frown lines deepened. “It says here that you’re neglecting your homework. Seven assignments missing! How do you explain that?”

She might have told him that she was busy playing with Tommy. Nothing but Tommy and his leg seemed to matter anymore. But she kept silent about her guilty feelings.

Papa reached a decision. “I’m going to ask Sister Veronica to keep you in at recess until you make up every bit of that homework — but mind you, it will still be an “F.” And Emma, if I’m paying private school tuition, I expect you to do your part. Do you think money grows on trees?”

No, Papa.” She had overheard enough conversations to know that they had to be careful with money. Tommy’s medical expenses were covered by insurance from the car that struck him, but there were still bills coming in the mail from Mama’s surgery and treatments and hospital stays. She had not had life insurance like Mr. Kester. It was the reason why Papa drove an old car. He intended to pay every penny, and Mrs. Kester felt the same way.

Papa went on. “As for these noises of yours — I’ll give you a flashlight to keep under your pillow. Use it the next time you hear them. I guarantee that you won’t see a thing.”

A week passed before the strange sounds woke Emma from a deep sleep. Sucking in her breath, she retreated under the covers. All her quivering senses focused on the eerie noise in the hallway. Thump, thump…thump, thump. Thump, thump, thump…thump. Like a ball bouncing… or…

It stopped at her open door. Remembering the flashlight, Emma slipped her hand under the pillow and gripped the cool metal.

The floor creaked. Closer to the bed, there was a thump — a sigh.

Hidden under the blankets, Emma choked back a terrified scream. She could feel her heart racing as she struggled to hold her breath. Finally, she could no longer bear the tension. Switching on the flashlight, she tossed her covers aside.

But the figure at her bedside needed no light. A glowing child stood on his only good leg, staring off into the darkness. Blood dripped from the raw stump of his severed limb.

Emma filled her lungs and let out a shriek that sent her cat scrambling out of the room. She kept screaming until Papa turned on the bedroom light and rushed in, a bathrobe tossed over his pajamas. He sat down on the mattress, and she clung to him, crying hysterically. “Papa…it was Tommy! I heard him hopping around! He was right herestanding on one leg…and the other leg was bleeding!”

Holding her tight, Papa rocked her back and forth, trying his best to soothe away her fears. “No, Honeybee, he wasn’t here. It was only a bad dream.”

But he was!” insisted Emma, and she told him how she had hidden under the covers until she got out the flashlight.

After a moment, Papa lifted the pillow. “Look. The flashlight is still there. You never touched it. You were only dreaming.”

Emma stared in disbelief. “I had it in my hand! I switched it on!” But she could see that the flashlight was off. Leaning over, she peeked down at the floor, expecting to see a pool of blood. The wooden planks could have benefited from a dust mop, but there was not even one speck of red.

Confused, she laid her head back on the pillow and tightly held Papa’s hand. A rising wind made the elm branches thump and scratch against her window.

Hear that?” Papa said. “Those branches must have conjured up your nightmare. We’ll trim them tomorrow.”

He touched her cheek and started to get up, but Emma wasn’t ready for him to go. “Papa, I wanted to be ten for so long… but now I just wish I could turn back time. Why can’t we do that? We’d be able to fix bad things before they happen. Tommy would still have his leg…and maybe we could find a better doctor for Mama — one who could keep her from dying.”

Papa’s face saddened, and he squeezed her hand. “Honeybee, Doctor McCormack was the best man for the job. But you know what? You sound a lot like your mother. She was always wishing there were things she could go back and change. I don’t have all the answers, but I do know one thing. Meddling with time would only create a whole new batch of problems. We’re better off taking each day as it comes… just the way the good Lord intended.”

Papa tucked her into bed and gave her a kiss. On the way out, he left the hall light shining into her bedroom. As Emma snuggled under the covers, it felt as if Mama was very near.

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