Captured In Concho

Chapter 3

I told him that wasn't our fault and he screamed like a banshee that it was; and we were all going to pay. He put his big, beefy hands on me, I kicked and clawed at him, but I couldn't get away. He, then, had his hands around my neck and I prayed for God to protect Margaret. Next, I asked God to please, let me die quickly and I fainted. I guess Jameson must've thought he'd killed me, for when I came to he was nowhere in sight. I dragged myself to my feet and every couple of steps I'd fall. I came to the creek I would have to wade across. I fell in, but didn't have the strength to get back out. A man walking home from work heard me splashing about in the icy water, crying out hoarsely for someone to, please, help me.

After he rescued me from my watery grave, I told him about the house being on fire. He took me straightaway to the doctor's house, then took himself off, fast as possible, to get a fire engine. I was told later, that by the time the firemen got there, the house was gone, there was nothing anyone could do. I begged the doctor, and his nurse, to let me die and slipped into a deep sleep. I knew I had pneumonia and that it could take me just like that. I wasn't thinking I had to be there for Margaret, I was feeling sorry for myself, cause I'd failed Momma and Daddy. Because of me, they were dead; and I wanted to die, too. But, the only thing, there was this one voice calling me, that wouldn't let me die. Time-after-time, it called me back from the threshold of sweet release. I couldn't fathom whose voice it was, but I knew it wasn't family, nor friend, cause they would've called me HJ. I know it made it sound, as if they would have been talking to a boy, but I liked it a lot better, than the other alternatives of Harm, Jor or Jordy. Those, really, were boys names. I reached up to Heaven, pleaded with the unseen voice to, please, let me die.

I heard a string of curse words, then the small wail of a child. I cried out, Margaret, where are you? She climbed into my arms and I held her tightly to me crying, Oh, Margaret, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry. I won't leave you, HJ won't leave you. I sat up in the doctor's bed, cradling Margaret in my arms. I rocked her to sleep, but when I looked down at the small girl in my arms, I found I was looking at the face of a strange child, who definitely wasn't Margaret.

It slowly dawned on me, where I was and as I tip-toed out of the room, with Fenelia in my arms, Cy entered the hallway from the kitchen. He was holding a damp cloth. He handed me the cloth and took Fenelia the rest of the way into her room; and gently placed her in her bed. He came back out to put a gentle arm around my still trembling shoulders and steered me back to the bedroom. He ran me a nice, hot, bubble bath. I chuckled in spite of the fear that still gripped my heart, as I spied the giant crayon-shaped bottle on a shelf above me. That solved the mystery of the bubble bath. I stayed in the warm water until my skin started to pucker and grabbed the over-sized terry cloth towel, to wrap myself in. I peered around the door to see the bedroom was empty.

When I emerged from the bathroom, fresh linens were on the bed. I warily put on my pajamas and climbed into the comfortable bed. I ha just pulled up the covers, when the door opened a crack. I yanked the covers up to my neck, "Are you decent?"

I nodded, then realized Cy wasn't peering into the room, "Yes."

He backed through the door for in his hands, he carried a tray laden down with a steaming teapot and two empty mugs, which he set beside me on the bed. He went back out only to return moments later with a chair from the dining room. He set the chair, with the back against the bed, he then straddled it. I swallowed a lump that had suddenly formed in my throat. I told myself the lump was from thinking he was going to ask me to tell him of my dream. I didn't want to tell that dream to anyone, I never wanted to relive it in reality. It was bad enough when I relived it in my sleep. Cy picked up his mug and grimaced at the taste. I took a taste of mine and found it had no sugar. I coughed a little at first, but I took another sip of it. I assured him it wasn't all that bad without sugar, I told him in fact there were times when I preferred it that way. He looked at me, as if I had a screw loose, but he drank another mouthful.