In the Woods When First We Met

70. Close to Change

When Anne got home, she still felt good. The weekend was here, there'd be no more school- no more Josie, no more Ruby, no more Billy- for two whole days, she still had a short chance to see her new friend at church on Sunday, and the snow still made her feel elated. She ate dinner- and actually ate this time- and then played checkers with Matthew in the parlor. She told him about her school day, and that she'd gotten a 100 on her spelling test. Everything seemed fine again.

Anne had felt a strange cramping sensation in her abdomen for most of the day, but she never knew how her own body felt these days- she never knew if her pains were imagined or real. Anyway, it had been a reasonably good day, and she wasn't going to let a little stomachache upset her. She tried to ignore it and focus on what was good.

Eventually Marilla told her to go up and get ready for bed.

That evening before bed, she got cold water in her washbasin and put her underwear in it to soak.

She'd been doing this every night.

Gilbert was right when he said blood sometimes took more than just one wash to come all the way out.

The blood stain had gotten lighter and lighter each time she'd soaked it and scrubbed it, so she thought it would probably be all gone soon.

It would have come out quicker if she could let it soak a longer time, but the most she could do was soak it and scrub it for a short time each evening before bed. She couldn't leave it in there for a longer amount of time in case Marilla would see it.

Unfortunately, she had to keep wearing it, so after she'd soaked it and scrubbed it, she let it dry for a little while and put it back on. She was tired of wearing damp underwear, especially in the cold weather, but she was afraid to stop wearing them because she didn't want anything unaccounted for and she didn't want them to be found hidden anywhere.

She didn't have much time left, either- she knew Marilla was about to do the wash again on Monday, so she really needed to finish getting the blood out in the next couple days. She'd been able to avoid her petticoat and underwear going in the wash at the beginning of the week- right after the attack- but there was no way Marilla would go another wash day without taking Anne's things.

Her ripped petticoat- sewn up rather badly by Gilbert- would have to go into the wash, too, and Anne would just have to tell Marilla she'd tripped and gotten it ripped. Marilla would frown at the sloppy sewing, but Anne would not tell her a boy had sewn it up for her, of course- she'd just tell Marilla that she'd sewn it up the best she could on a sprained wrist.

Anne looked at the stitches Gilbert made and smiled. They were spaced a little bit too far apart, and they weren't even, each one a bit shorter or longer than the next. But, even though the petticoat was full of bad memories, it made her smile that Gilbert had tried so hard for her.

Anne waited for her underwear to get reasonably dry, and then she went to bed. She had forgotten to say her prayers.