“Do not rush him, or he will balk,” replied Cathy. “Aye, he’s been balking ever since we came here. No stomach for this evil business.” The dwarf paced back and forth on the table until he skidded on a slippery spot. “Batty old woman. Cleaning wax off the table. What did she think? We’d disappear along with the wax that brought us here?”
“She’s no longer a problem,” Cathy reminded him. The wolf attempted to leap up to the broken window but couldn’t make it.
“He’s getting restless. If the boy doesn’t come soon we may lose control of the wolf.” The dwarf never trusted animals, which meant he trusted hardly anyone in the room.
“He watched us feast on blood and flesh last night without participating.” The gargoyle shook his head.
“He couldn’t be trusted,” said the dwarf. “He would have eaten her up in two gulps. There would have been none for us.”
“I ordered him not to kill my mother,” said Cathy. “I want her to suffer. He wouldn’t have been able to control his appetite.”
“He’s starting to look at us too much. Sometimes he lays his head down but doesn’t sleep. His eyes watch us.” The dwarf shivered with the thought.
“Oh, don’t worry so much, Master Dwarf, you taste much too sour, I’m sure, to interest the wolf.” The black snake slid across the dwarf’s path, who barely had time to stop.
The wolf padded over to the table and set its front paws on the surface.
“Aye, his breath. Truly putrid.” The dwarf danced back away from the wolf. “What does he want? Make him go away. Don’t allow him to have complete freedom. He’s much too dangerous.”
The wolf shivered and its ears settled back on its head.
“Down,” Cathy commanded.
The wolf’s paws slipped off the surface of the table and landed on the cement floor with a loud tap.
“When will you take your son’s body?” demanded the dwarf. “We’ve been waiting a long time. The brat has nothing to offer us except little baby flesh and blood. He has no powers.”
“Yes, he does.” Cathy’s voice rang out like a bell. “He isn’t aware of what he can do yet.”
&&&&
“Excuse me, mistress.” The old woman with the staff came forward. “Pardon my opinion, but he has the power, yet lacks the evil intent. I’ve seen this before. Many children lose their way. He was born to serve the devil, but his heart isn’t in it. Too much goodness spoils his abilities. His powers are rancid with self-doubt. He loves you, mistress, yes. However, don’t trust him, for he will fall in line with the good, even against his own mother.”
“He is troubled by what he has seen, old woman, but eventually he’ll do what is best for me. I trust him and only him.”
“What of us?” demanded the dwarf. “We follow your instructions. Never ask questions. And most of all, wait.” “You enjoy the revenge you take. And especially you ask too many questions. The wait has been short in comparison to the length of time you’ve existed. My son does far more thinking than you’ll ever be able to do. He sees beyond his own needs. He’ll understand what is necessary to keep me with him and why I must come back.”
“You want back because you are just as selfish as us,” the dwarf said.
“I left too soon. I thought I had finished with the earth, but I hadn’t.”
“You mean you don’t want to go to hell,” the dwarf niggled.
“My life had always been limited. First by my mother and then by Jacob. My rebellions were ignored. My love rejected. Now I intend to own my life.”
“And what of your son?” The dwarf cocked his head and the snake looped up his body to knock the dwarf’s hat off.
“We will share the same life as we did before he was born. He lived inside me. Now I will live inside him.”
Chapter
67
Rosemary woke up in a semi-private room at the hospital. Her daughter slept in the next bed. The hospital staff had been kind in allowing her and her daughter to stay the night. Rosemary’s mother still remained in a very critical state, and Jacob had a relapse. Currently antibiotics flowed through his IV line, fighting the bronchitis he had come down with. Pneumonia could bring death to Jacob, given how serious his burns were. His lungs would be unable to clear themselves, and he could easily drown in his own fluids.
“Mom?”
“Hi, Robin. Did you sleep okay?”
“I kept thinking about Stephen. Maybe we shouldn’t have left him alone.”
“Mrs. Rosen is taking good care of him. She is very fond of him. Makes up for the fact that she doesn’t have her own grandchildren to pester her.”
“Neither will you, Mom.”
“Don’t talk like that, Robin.” Rosemary immediately got out of bed. “Do you need to use the bathroom?”
Rosemary helped her daughter get ready, and the nurses generously provided breakfast in the room. All of the staff enjoyed Robin’s company. Robin had no fear of hospitals because she had spent so much time in them, as much time as she had spent at home.
Leaving Robin doing her homework in the waiting room, Rosemary visited with her mother. Her mother never opened her eyes, and one side of her face sagged. The doctors couldn’t be sure Mabel would ever regain consciousness.
Rosemary wheeled her daughter out of the waiting room to the burn unit. Instead of using the mask and aprons required while visiting burn patients, Rosemary rushed into Jacob’s room.
His labored breathing made her pause for only a moment.
“Jacob, can you hear me?”
He opened his eyes, the blue irises tinged with red.
“Rosemary,” he hissed.
“Momma.” Robin panicked. She knew about the equipment the hospital used, but the sight of her uncle wrapped in gauze sickened her.
Rosemary knelt down beside her daughter.
“Be strong, Robin. Please, I want you to tell your uncle what you told me last night.”
“About the uglies?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t put her through this, Rosemary.” Jacob’s breathing became more difficult. One of the machines began to beep.
A nurse entered the room almost immediately.
“What are you doing? Are you trying to kill him? Get out of here now, or I’ll call security.”
Rosemary wheeled her daughter out of the room at the same time Jacob’s doctor entered. He grabbed her arm.
“What is the meaning of this?”
Rosemary had no answer. She had acted out of selfishness and disbelief. She wanted Jacob to explain to her what her daughter had told her about the demons living on the wooden box.
“Momma, is Uncle Jacob going to die?”
Rosemary pushed past the doctor and returned her daughter to the waiting room.
“Momma, he can’t die, because then Stephen won’t have a mommy or daddy.”
“He’ll have us, Robin.”
“But you hate him.”
“No. I don’t understand him.”
“He’s haunted, Momma, by some evil spirit. We have to help him.”
“Rosemary.”
She looked up at Jacob’s main doctor.
“I’m sorry. I went crazy. I won’t do it again.”
He stood, saying nothing.
“My God, he isn’t dead?”
“No, but we’ll have to watch him carefully over the next few days. I don’t think you should visit him for a while.”
“I’m taking care of his son. He’ll want to know how the boy’s doing.”
“Too risky,” the doctor said. “We’re trying to fight pneumonia, and his flesh is open to all kinds of bacteria. No, we’ll tell you when you can see him again.”
The doctor turned from her and walked down the hall back toward the burn unit.
“What did we do, Momma?”
Rosemary closed her eyes and brought her fingertips to her lips.
“Did we do something wrong?”
“Not you, Robin. Me.” Turning back to her daugh
ter, she opened her eyes to see the fear in Robin’s eyes.
“We won’t do that again, will we?”
“You must be hungry. Why don’t we grab a cab and ride down to the—”
“I’m not hungry. I’m scared. What if Uncle Jacob dies? Stephen won’t be able to take that. What if his father haunts him too?”
“Stop, Robin. His father will be coming home to him. In the meantime we’ll help Stephen get through this.”
“We can’t do that if we stay hiding at the hospital.”
She had isolated her nephew. Turned her back on him in self-defense.
“We can’t live in that house, Robin.”
“Mrs. Rosen has an extra bedroom.”
“There’s three of us.”
“You don’t want to go back to Stephen, do you?”
No, Rosemary didn’t. The innocent little boy had turned into the demon child.
Chapter
68
All night Stephen sat at the window and watched his mother fade in and out of the moonlight. She rarely moved except to occasionally mouth I love you or to place her palms against the window pane of Stephen’s own room across from where he sat.
“Momma, can’t you come here?” he asked, desperately needing her frigid embrace. The tinkle of her voice could soothe him into sleep. But did he want sleep?
His dreams were of Brandy and the witch. The witch who wanted to steal Brandy’s flesh and soul.
“Momma, I’m so scared. What happens if Daddy doesn’t come home? Will you stay with me forever?”
His mother must have been able to read his lips, for she nodded her head in assent. Tears filled his brown eyes, and he briskly wiped them away, not wanting to lose the image of his mother.
However, as daylight overcame night, she began to fade. No amount of pleading from Stephen prevented it. Slowly, she dissolved along with the darkness of the night.
He leaned against the arch of the window, feeling the sun soak into his body. Warmth filled his thoughts with peace, and he gradually fell asleep.
He woke hours later realizing that he hadn’t dreamt. Brandy and the witch, like the uglies, were nightmares of the dark night. He guessed that today the sun refused to welcome leftovers from the darkness of night. Daylight brought different dreams or none at all. He preferred the empty sleep he just had.
Stretching his limbs, he stood, arching his back cat-like after the uncomfortable position he had been in. The lights remained out in his own house, and the window pane of his own room stood vacant, darkened. No one stood at the window. He couldn’t even see into the room.
He heard a telephone ring downstairs and crept to the door to open it a crack.
“Rosemary, how are you and Robin doing?” A few seconds of silence followed. “Oh, he’s still asleep, I guess. I haven’t looked in because I didn’t want to wake him. I don’t think he’s been sleeping well. The poor boy has little dark circles under his eyes.” A few more seconds of silence. “Shall I have him ring your cell phone when he gets up?” Silence. “I see. Shall I at least tell him that you called?” Silence. “When can I say anything about his father? The boy is worrying so much he’s quickly growing into a little old man.” Silence. “Pneumonia?”
Stephen opened the door wider and stuck his head into the hallway.
“They’re giving him antibiotics, I’m sure.”
Stephen stepped into the hallway and leaned against the banister, thinking that seeing Grannie Smith would also make it easier for him to hear his aunt.
“I’ll say a prayer for Jacob and for your mother. Don’t worry about Stephen. I love having him here.”
He might be there forever, he thought. Would Grannie Smith love having him then?
Grannie Smith hung up and immediately looked up at Stephen.
“You’re up. That was your aunt. Everyone’s doing fine at the hospital.”
“When is Daddy coming home?”
“He’ll need to stay for some time.”
“Is he going to die?”
“Lord, your father’s a tank. How could you say that? I used to watch him go out running every morning.”
“He ran four times a week,” Stephen corrected.
“To me it seemed like every morning. I certainly don’t have that kind of energy.”
“He has new mona?”
“‘New mona?. Oh, you mean pneumonia. A bad cold. The hospital is giving him the best of medicines. Come on down and I’ll give you some breakfast.”
“Why won’t Aunt Rosemary talk to me?” He poked his little face between the slats of the banister.
“I told her you were asleep.”
“But she doesn’t want me to call her.”
“Your aunt is very busy at the hospital. She might be in with your grandmother or father when you call, and that might disturb their sleep. You don’t want to do that, do you?”
Stephen withdrew his face from between the slats and sat down on the hall rug. If Daddy didn’t come home, who would take care of him?
Grannie Smith climbed the stairs to squat down beside Stephen.
“You can stay with me for as long as you want. Matter of fact, it would be fun helping you pick a college the why I did for my son.”
“It’ll be a long time before I’m a scholar.”
“I think you’re a little bit of a scholar now.”
“I’m not as smart as Robin.”
“Maybe you’re smarter, but in a different way. I think in your heart you’re a scholar.” She touched his chest where his heart was. “Mean I know how to love?” A surprised look came to Grannie Smith’s face. “Exactly. That makes you easy to love.”
Chapter
69
“Doctor, how is Jacob doing?” Rosemary had waited by the nurses’ station for most of the morning to ask this question.
The doctor looked surprised to see her.
“He’s doing better.”
“May I see him?”
“He’s groggy most of the time.”
“But can I try to speak to him?”
“What were you thinking yesterday when you charged into his room?”
“My mother is in the hospital. She suffered a stroke. With all this on my mind I was confused. I’m calmer today. I even took a Xanax this morning to quiet my nerves.” She held out her hands in front of her. “First time in days they’re not shaking.”
“Don’t stay long. I want Jacob to get as much rest as possible.” He began to walk away then stopped. “And no children.”
“Sorry.”
A nurse assisted Rosemary in putting on a mask, head covering, and a gown.
When she entered the room, her knees almost gave way. She rounded the drape-covered bed and saw Jacob with his eyes shut, breathing with the assistance of oxygen.
“I apologize, Jacob.”
His eyes opened. She moved closer, enabling him to see her better without having to adjust his own position.
“Mother’s hospitalized. She suffered a stroke in the basement.”
His eyes looked weary.
“She had small bites on her body. They can’t understand what they were from, but they healed within twenty-four hours.”
She lifted a hand as if to take his in comfort but realized she might hurt him.
“Mom’s not able to talk. She …” Rosemary felt her throat close off. “The doctors say the stroke did a lot of damage. Asked whether I want to take extraordinary …” She began to cry. “Mom won’t make it.”
Jacob slowly raised a bandaged hand.
“I’m not allowed to touch you. I don’t have gloves on.”
He kept his hand in the air, and she gently covered his bandaged hand with her naked one. Almost immediately she pulled away.
“If the doctor catches me, he’ll throw me out for good. Besides, you have to come home, Jacob. Stephen needs you. I don’t think Cathy will give him up. That’s what I really wanted to tell you. I believe you. Cathy is very angry, and she wants to keep her litt
le boy all to herself.”
Jacob tried to speak.
“Stephen is out of the house. He’s staying with Mrs. Rosen. I’ve been staying at the hospital. I want to be there when Mother’s end comes. She looks so much older than before the stroke. Her skin has wrinkled. Half her face is slack. I just wish she would open her eyes once before she … leaves us.”
Both Jacob and Rosemary were silent for a while, but the room hummed with the sound of the equipment that kept Jacob alive.
“Stephen really likes Mrs. Rosen. You might have a hard time talking him into leaving.
“What am I saying? He asks for you all the time. He wants to take care of you himself. A few days ago he tried to sneak in to see you, but he didn’t get very far. Mrs. Rosen kept vigil in front of the men’s room, not giving him a chance to roam off on his own.”
Jacob’s eyes remained open and fixed on her.
“By the way, you’ll need a place to stay when you get out. I know you don’t want to move back into that house. When you’re better, we can see about selling the place. But in the meantime when you first get out, I think you and Stephen should live with Robin and me. I know what you’re thinking. Rosemary hates my guts. Not true. I think I understand you more. Had I known how far Cathy had gone, I would have tried to stop her, or at least warn you to watch over Stephen.
“Get better, and you and Stephen will never have to go into that house again.”
Chapter
70
Stephen threw his ball at the fence separating his house from Grannie Smith’s. He paused to look up at the sun that had started to set. Grannie Smith warned him to come in before dark, but if she couldn’t find him she couldn’t make him.
At this time of day she usually laid down for a half-hour. If he were inside the house she would sweep him off to the guest bedroom for a nap. He hated naps. Today she’d let him play outdoors until she awoke.
Stephen walked along the side of Grannie Smith’s house, opened the gate, and rounded the bend to his house. The house looked sad, deserted. He knew how that felt. He walked up the steps to the front porch and tried the door. Locked. Aunt Rosemary hadn’t forgotten in all the haste she had been in. He jumped down to the ground. The wolf had broken the basement window. Had Aunt Rosemary taken the time to have it fixed?
The Witch Page 21
