THIRTEEN FOR DINNER

Thirty five

THIRTY-FIVE

       We bury little Hope under a weeping willow tree, in the shallow part of the pond where the fish come up to nibble on the plants.  It was my idea to put her here. Laying her to rest under the water seems serene and erases any scent of her the hound dogs could possibly trace.

            Quillan fired the first shot, hitting Seedy in the arm and knocking the gun from his hand. The blast woke Mr. Faulkner who grabbed his pistol and came running along with Emily, and Mike, who was still in the garden, star gazing and contemplating the mystery of life. The gunfire also drew in two more of Slimy’s cohorts, who were scouting out the property looking for any evidence of the Underground.

            The second gun blast came from James. He gunned down the driver of the wagon after watching him purposely run down little Hope. She was escaping across the grass, trying to get away from the fighting, when he ran her over. I’m guessing it was her little body that caused the big bump that knocked Slimy off his feet, giving me my chance at escape.

            Emily told me Mike had to pull Quillan off of Slimy before he accidentally killed him. According to her, Quillan and Mike had to fight off the other two men, before Quillan was able to run after Slimy and save me. She said Quillan looked like a wild man beating the snot out of him before Mike stopped him from committing murder.

                        Mr. Faulkner threw all four of the unconscious men and the deceased driver in their own wagon and personally drove them to town turning them over to the Sherriff as trespassers, would be robbers and rapist. James Faulkner holds a lot of weight in this town so the Sherriff apologized profusely for the inconvenience admitting the men form Georgia had caused enough trouble and promised to send them packing as soon as they came to, and were able to travel.

            I’m sore all over, I have a splitting headache and Tylenol hasn’t been invented yet. It’s been a long night and I feel like crawling up to the third floor and telling Lunar to scoot over while I climb into bed with him. If it gets any worse around here, we might have to turn the third floor into an ICU ward.

            Emily had Pearl heat up some water and together they drew me a bath. It felt heavenly to sit and soak while Pearl took a big scrub brush and washed me from head to toe. I felt bad for her waking up in the dead of night just for me, but she insisted on helping, assuring me the gunfire woke her up hours ago. I soaked until the water turned cold. She toweled me off, rubbed sweet smelling lotions on my skin and then helped me slip into my gown.

            Quillan was waiting for me, with the covers turned back and extra pillows fluffed up ready for my throbbing head. Pearl hands me over, and he escorts me to the bed, helping me in before handing me a steaming cup of chamomile tea. I take a swallow but my throat hurts too bad so I hand it back.

            “I’m sorry,” he says while taking the cup from me.

            I lean back on the pillow; it feels heavenly as it cradles my head in comfort.

            “I’ll never make light of your fears again,” he says laying down beside me. “I know what it feels like now.”

            “What’s it feel like?” I ask him, wondering how he will describe it.

            “It brings a hopelessness that weakens you until you’re afraid you won’t be able to fight back. And even though you may be fighting against it, it taunts you, whispering in your ear the two words, what if.”

            “What if?” I repeat.   

            “Yes,” He says. “What if…What if she dies? What if you can’t save her? What if none of this works? And, what if it does and she leaves… What if life isn’t the same without her? It hisses the what if’s over and over until it steals your strength, your wonder, your belief in your purpose, and then it steals your soul. Your still breathing, but with fear in control, there is no life.”

            “Did it steal yours?” I ask him.

            “No,” he says because there is one thing stronger than fear and it will damage it every time.”

             “What is it?” I’m curious.

            “Love,” he says.