Emma's Dilemma

Emma’s Dilemma

Emma was a woman of middle age; she didn’t have a husband or any children. She lived in a small house that was almost identical to the one that sat beside hers. It was the early 50’s, a colourful and friendly decade, where the young girls played hopscotch and the boys rode their bicycles through the street ringing, their bells as they passed one another. Emma was an outgoing person; she had attended many public get-togethers and even hosted many of her own. She hosted a neighbourhood barbeque every second Sunday in the months of summer, where she would invite the people that resided on Raspberry Lane. There would be tunes of rockn’ roll and laughter dancing through the street. Emma was a woman who was trusted by her neighbours. 

That middle aged woman who lived at the end of Raspberry Lane was someone who liked to play hopscotch with the children or offer them some delicious treats as they passed by on their bicycles. Ring ring, they would go as they had passed Emma with her arms held out offering a plate of cookies or other such sweets. The parents didn’t mind that Emma spent so much time with their children as they would be too busy themselves to actually play or be able to feed them delicious treats themselves. The other mothers pitied poor Emma for the spinster she was. Emma had presented to the other mothers at a various outing they had attended together that she was a sterile woman. No man would ever give up the ability to pass on his family name.

Now Emma hadn’t always lived on Raspberry Lane, she had traveled throughout the states of Georgia and the Carolinas, always moving every few years. She claimed to enjoy the excitement of being somewhere new and was thrilled to be able to have the liberation of not being tied down.

One of the young boys that rung his bell up and down the streets with the others had formed a bond with Emma - almost as if Emma was his second Mommy. The young boy lived just a few houses down on Raspberry Lane and he spent most of his evenings with Emma. Emma was very fond of this young boy by the name of Tommy. He helped her with the dishes, baking cookies and just generally enjoyed his time with her.  Emma was always sure to feed him up on a big bowl of Neapolitan ice cream or chocolate bars. Tommy’s favorite chocolate bar was a Cadbury. Everyone seemed to be in love with Emma’s nurturing nature.

Tommy lived in a crippled family, where his father had passed away and his mother had remarried. Tommy’s step-dad Daniel had a daughter that was only five where Tommy was four years her senior. He and his sister, Caroline never had gotten along and seemed to always have been pulling each other’s hair out. Tommy had told Emma many things about his mother, step-father and his little sister Caroline. Emma was always there to listen avidly.

Emma wasn’t the warm and tender woman she had illustrated herself to be. That sweet and endearing woman who lived at the end of Raspberry Lane had a few secrets and tricks she had tucked up her sleeve. She was a woman of sinister ambitions and she was a woman of great determination. So she sat little Tommy down one night with a big bowl of Neapolitan and she told him that it wasn’t an ordinary day and that she needed to have a “grown-up” discussion with that young boy.

She began by saying, “We have been getting quite close, these past few months, and I am quite hungry.” She spoke this in a liquid honey voice as Little Tommy shoveled another spoonful of ice cream into his small, gluttonous mouth. “Then have yourself a bowl of this dessert, Ms. Emma,” He replied.

“No, Tommy, I don’t think you understand me. I am not hungry for sweets or goodies,” Emma continued as Tommy kept pigging out, “I am hungry for you.”

The spoon slipped out of that little pigs fingers and landed into the half finished bowl of Neapolitan. “I haven’t eaten since I ate that little girl just outside of Atlanta.” Tommy sat frozen on the bar stool that fought itself not to break. Tommy had specially gotten plump for this day, without his knowledge or consent. “I would just like you to be alright with me eating you.” She said this calmly and slowly trying to soothe any worries she had conjured up in the boy.

Without a word Tommy pushed the half finished bowl of ice cream to the center of the table and flung himself off of the stool to where he began to quickly hobble out the front door and down the porch steps. Poor Emma picked up the spoon and fed herself a little treat. She said to herself that “He will come around.”

She brought the bowl to the kitchen and hand washed the dish, placing it in the cupboard where it belonged. She went to the bathroom and washed her face, looking into the pupils of her reflection. She was tired and exhausted which was evident from the dark circles around her eyes. Emma went to retire to her bed to sleep off the day with her stomach grumbling to eat. With a last prayer before bed she begged to be fed.

She woke to a ring at the door, getting up she walked across the cold floor. Emma peeked through the peephole and seeing no one there she thought it was a ploy of her mind. So she turned to return to bed until the door rang again. Therefore, she went back to the door and opened it wide.

Emma was surprised to see a small girl, smiling and fiddling with her pigtails. Her face was of freckles and her hair was a bright blond. With a sentence hardly pronounced accurately she cheered. “Tommy said you wanna play hopscotch with me.” Emma smiled at the girl and said “Of course I do, Caroline, Tommy has told me so much about you.”

Emma put a hand on the little girl’s shoulder and guided her into her house, with a promise of chocolate chip cookies; Caroline followed the witch excitedly, while Emma closed the door behind them silently.