SEASONS OF HER LIFE
Excerpt
780 words
The warm blanket under her became damp as the exertion of tossing and turning drew beads of perspiration over her entire body and the sleep she so desperately needed didn't come. The room was stuffy and warm so she got up and as quietly as possible slid the wooden window up until it was open wide letting a cool breeze drift across the sleeping children. Fred's safety weighed down her mind, as she thought about him taking the long drive alone then draining his energy to unload the truck, and she prayed he would take the time to get a good nights sleep before driving back. It was sometime in the blackness of the early morning she finally willed herself to relax enough to doze off into a light sleep.
Only moments into her slumber, and annoyed by the interruption, she detected a faint tapping at the kitchen door. She tried to ignore it for a while, but it continued in a steady rhythm that wouldn't allow her to return to the comfort of her rest. She could barely slide her leaden feet across the bare floor as she drew her body in the direction of the tapping. The shadowy figure of a man stood in the darkness as she quickly pulled open the door expecting her husband. He was dressed all in black and held a hat in his hand, the felt kind that a well dressed man would wear to church. A hat very much like the one she could just barely remember her father wearing on special occasions. Startled by the sudden and eerie appearance of the stranger, she resisted the urge to slam the door and run as curiosity got the better of her. He didn't speak at first, just stood and stared at her for a long moment and she stared back. Just as she was about to ask what he wanted, he whispered in a low hardly audible voice. "Are you ready?"
"Am, am I ready for what?" Cattie stammered as a sudden chill ran down her spine. She was regretting opening the door, and thought again about slamming it in his face, but there was something magnetic about this person. Those eyes, that nose, there was something very familiar about his face. All she could do was stand there mesmerized by his sudden appearance.
He ignored her question, as though she had said nothing as he stood there expressionless staring through her with those dull black eyes. "You'll need six strong men."
"Who are you?" She screamed out into the dark room as the figure disappeared in a flash and her body jerked upright in a convulsion as she quickly came to a sitting position on the hard mattress. The familiar fresh sweet scent of the lilacs blooming just outside the window drifted up through her nostrils, as she felt the coolness of her soft cotton nightgown as it lay soggy and clinging to her damp breasts. The dynamic pounding of her heart echoed in her ears as she tried in vain to push the horrid dream out of her head. The voice kept repeating the same words over and over in her brain as she sat there shivering, "are you ready, are you ready?" She remained in the same position with her knees drawn up against her chest, her arms wound tightly around them, and her face buried, until a soft drone in the distance pulsed along with the rapid beating of her heart. How she wished Fred would pull into the drive at that very moment, take her in his arms, and tell her everything was all right.
She sat frozen for an endless time listening as the soft drumming continued until she realized the distant noise was that of a mourning dove perched on a branch of the tree just outside the bedroom window. Quickly jumping out of bed, she raced to the window, tripping over a toy truck left lying in the middle of the floor and she cried out in pain as she proceeded on her mission. She was certain he was the cause of the nightmare because he provided the setting with that stupid chant. Sticking half her body out the open window, she fluttered her arm back and forth in the breeze to drive a fear through his tiny body just as he had hers, but her actions did nothing to persuade him to even budge a feather. He was oblivious to her efforts as he perched on the limb and continued with his hymn. She finally gave up the exhausting effort, sat down on the wooden floor and tried to nurse her swollen toe.
|