The Hollow

13

Her father and Adam found her halfway up the hollow to the cave and the spring. It was early morning, near witching hour, and her feet were numb and her wool stockings soaked through. When Adam touched her, she woke, and immediately started to cry.

Her father had been roused by Adam who had been awakened by Mahala leaving the house perhaps an hour before.

Adam took Mahala up in his arms and carried her while their father led the way with the lantern.

"Adam says you ran through the house and out into the woods. You were so quick he lost track of you. Whatever were you doing, child?"

Mahala was sobbing into Adam's neck.

Did you dream?

She shook her head against him, but said nothing.

Back at home, Adam took Mahala into the kitchen and gave her to their father who cradled her against his chest before the fire. Adam began heating water, and stoking the fire until it roared. Her father rubbed her arms and hands, and with Adam, peeled her stockings off to rub her numb feet and legs.

"It's times like this we need Emilia here...child, are you feeling well enough to bathe yourself and warm up?" her father asked.

"Y-Yes, father..." she chattered.

"I'll see to getting a bed warmer and more quilts. Adam, can you manage?"

Mahala was deposited in an armed chair by the fire, and Mahala did not see her brother's response. All she knew was that he was moving the tub closer to the fire. In fact, Mahala did not see much as her eyelids drooped and she dozed for what seemed like only a few seconds. Instead, it had been many minutes, and Adam setting her down into warm water woke her again. She gasped at the sensation of the water hitting her feet and hands, and then sighed as she realized he had put her in the water in her gown.

Adam's face was unmovable as he poured more and more water into the bathtub, each time hotter. When the water covered her completely and she started to doze again, Adam slapped her cheek roughly.

"Adam!" she gasped, hand going to grasp the sides of the tub in surprise.

He sat down in the chair she had been set, and pulled it nearer to the fire. He gestured violently, his face beginning to twist with anger.

Mahala bit her lower lip and felt her eyes begin to water.

"I'm-not-mad!" she ground out, so close to screaming.

Adam lunged and grabbed her right hand then.

Whatever it was you dreamed, you tore out of this house like a spirit to the last Trumpet's call. You looked like you were being chased, or chasing something, and I couldn't keep up with you. I always beat you in a foot race... And father was the one bringing madness, not me...you're the age our mother took off with you to Albany...

Mahala wrenched her hand free at Adam's last thought.

"I am not mad, Adam...I don't know why I did that...I don't remember..." she said angrily.

Adam frowned, but resisted talking more, either by contact or by gesture. Their father had returned with a clean robe and towel.

Mahala was left alone in the kitchen then, her father vowing to see her settled into her bed after she had dried and dressed. She laid back in the tub and sighed, rubbing her face. Closing her eyes, she shook her head slowly from side to side, rolling the back of her skull against the edge of the tub. She tried to remember what she could have dreamed. Normally, she did, but walking in her sleep, let alone bolting off into a cold autumn night...

No, no she could not remember.

Her feet ached when she walked, and Adam swept her up and carried her all the way to her attic room, their father following behind.

Our mother should be the one to do this, Mahala... Adam said, helping her slip on a new, dry pair of stockings. Her father hovered near the top step, and when Mahala was tucked into her bed again, Adam left her side. Wilhelm came to her bedside and smoothed a curl from her face.

"Tomorrow night, I shall sleep at the bottom of the steps, Mahala...this cannot become a habit, the nights are getting too cold."

She was left with only a candle lit, and slowly closed her eyes. Sleep came again, and with it, dreams.

She was digging, she was digging with paws, and she was digging into the side of a creature and she was eating it with her jaws. It was a strange dream, where she felt a hunger and a thrill. Stalking, killing, and eating... When she had her fill, she ate more, knowing that it maybe a long time until she ate again. And then, she settled down in a bed of soft needles and soil, curling up her long body and crossing her paws before her.