by Joy Redmond
Tom walked to her side and said softly, “Anna, please let me take him. I’ve got to lay him to rest in the Morgan graveyard. It’s time to let him go.”
Anna blinked twice, and then said, “Yes, you can take him now. We’ve said our goodbyes. He’s sleeping with the angels. Keep the blanket wrapped around him tightly. I knitted it just for him.” She kissed her son on the forehead, and then handed him to Tom. “Goodbye, my sweet child,” she whispered as Tom carried the baby out of the room.
He closed the door to give Anna some privacy. As soon as it clicked shut she began to sob. Tom leaned his head against the door and squeezed his eyes closed, fighting against his own tears of grief. He needed to be strong for his sweet wife.
As Anna's crying softened, Tom opened his eyes and looked upon his infant son’s little face, marveling at his perfection and agonizing over all the moments they'd never share.
From behind the door he heard Anna argue aloud.
“I don’t understand, God. You showed me a vision of a living baby girl. What happened? You didn’t show me a dead son. If you had, I could have been prepared. This doesn’t make any sense. I’ve never been wrong when I saw a vision.”
Tom still wasn’t sure of what to think about Anna’s visions, but she seemed sure, and he couldn’t deny what he’d witnessed during their short marriage.
A little girl, the thought gave him hope. He kissed the head of his little boy and whispered. “You hear that? You’re going to be a big brother someday.”
Tom dug a grave and then gently laid his son to rest. He stood over the grave in silence for a long moment, and then wiped his tears and headed back to the house. When he finally walked into the bedroom, he was relieved to see that Anna was sound asleep. He made a pallet on the floor beside the bed so he wouldn’t disturb her, but he wasn’t about to leave her side if she should need him during the night. She didn’t wake up until almost noon on Christmas Day.
* * * *
For the next five years, Anna placed flowers on their son’s grave every day and said, “Sleep with the angels, Little Tom. Say hi to your grandma and grandpa West and your uncle Billy Joe and tell them I love them.”
Anna often watched Tom climb the hill to their sons’ grave, as she peered out the window over the kitchen sink. He’d pat the headstone, and then walk away. Though Tom never mentioned their great loss, she knew his heart was breaking. The day their son died was the first time she had ever seen Tom cry. He hadn’t cried since.
One morning, Anna climbed the hill, placed flowers on the grave, but her words were different. “Hi, Little Tom,” she said. “Your mama ain’t feeling too good today. In fact, I’ve been feeling poorly for a few days now. I guess I need to brew some herbal tea. That should perk me up. I need to go, now, but I’ll be back when I’m feeling better.”
As she turned to go, Anna saw a vision – and it was instantly recognizable. She saw the same red-haired baby girl she had seen years before. Anna smiled, looked back at Little Tom’s headstone, and said, “Well, I guess now we know why your ma is feeling poorly. I’m going to have you a little sister – but she won’t be joining you for a long while.”
As she walked back toward the house, Anna could feel the heartache of the previous five years begin to dissolve and be replaced by a happiness that was impossible to describe. She placed her hand on her abdomen and said softly, “We’re finally going to have our little girl, Tom. Life is wonderful! Thank you, God!”
On March 9th, 1929, Anna gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. She had dark hair and dark eyes like Anna. Again, Anna wondered about the vision she had seen twice of the redheaded little girl with green eyes, the spitting image of Tom Morgan. Maybe another one was coming soon. She kissed her baby girl and said, “You sure don’t look the way I saw you, but you sure are a beautiful, my little Mona Marie.
The years swiftly passed, and although Tom and Anna had no more children, Anna often laughed and said, “It’s a good thing we only have one child. She’s a handful. I don’t think we could keep up with another one.”
“You’re right, sweet. One is all we need. How could we ask for more? She may be a handful, but she’s perfect. We could never do better, no matter how hard we tried.”
But the vision of a redheaded little girl with green eyes kept coming to Anna.
Anna’s Note
June 14, 1957
I shuffled down the hospital corridor like a shambling dwarf, my 5’4” body slightly bent from osteoporosis. The arthritis in my hips and knees was causing me pain, yet I hurried as quickly as I could. I’ve always been famous for making predictions about newborn babies, and I believe that the first hour after a new soul enters the world is the most crucial – and my first grandchild was almost an hour old.
My gift was stronger when I was young, and until a few years ago, I used to slip into the deep trance, where I saw my visions clearly. As I grow older, though, I just fall into a half-sleep and only catch glimpses of disembodied faces and random scenes. But the vibes I still get from a touch or a voice are as strong as they ever were.
I spied a sign posted on a stand in the middle of the hall that said, Babies with Mothers. I dodged it, hoping a nurse didn’t spot me before I reached Mona’s room.
I pushed open the door, which squeaked a bit, reminding me of my fragile and porous bones. I quietly shut the door, and whispered, “Hi Mona.”
“Ma, what are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be on the ward. They just ran Ed off, and he’s the daddy!” Mona said as if she thought I might face jail time if someone found me in the room.
“Yeah, I know, but nobody saw me,” I said as I looked down at my granddaughter. My breath caught in my throat. Finally, the little girl with red hair. She opened her eyes as I reached out and lifted her into my arms. Even though I knew a newborn’s eyes aren’t the color they’re going to stay I could already see they were going to be green. She was going to be the spitting image of Tom Morgan.
I placed my palm on the baby’s head and closed my eyes.
“What is it Ma? What did you feel?” Mona asked softly. “You know your vibes and visions give me the creeps sometimes.”
I handed the baby back to Mona, smiled, and replied, “She’s going to be a happy child. She’ll live a fairytale life.”
“Yes, she will. Ed and I will see to that. She’ll have all her little heart desires,” Mona said, staring into the tiny eyes that seemed to know that she was born to be a princess.
I smiled, squeezed Mona’s hand, and asked, “Have you named her?”
“We named her Tori Ann. Tori, because we like the name, and Ann, after you, Ma.”
“Ah, that’s nice. Tori Ann Hicks,” I said. “It has a nice ring to it, and she looks just like your pa.
“Yeah, she has the red hair and most likely the temper that goes with it,” Mona replied with a laugh. “We’ve got a female version of Pa.”
“Well, I guess I need to slip out of here before I get caught,” I said, kissing Tori on the forehead and Mona on the cheek. “Bye, my sweet girls. I love you.”
“We love you too, Ma. See you later,” Mona said, raising Tori’s tiny hand and waving it.
I slipped out of the room and hurried out of the hospital. Although it was a hot, humid day, I shivered in the car as I recalled the sensations I’d experienced as I held baby Tori in my arms. Then suddenly my body jerked as if it were being riddled with bullets as a series of horrifying images flashed through my mind – a man in black, a pool of blood, a gun, a knife – and a coffin.
As I sat trying to figure it all out, I could feel a tear run down my cheek.
Anna West-Morgan
Chapter Three
Tori
Tori bounced down the staircase as if she had springs in her shoes. Then she pranced across the living room wearing a blue-and-white pinafore Grammy Anna had made and Momma had starched and ironed to perfection.
“I’m ready for school, Momma. How do I look?” Tori asked, turning in
circles, pulling the hem of her skirt out with both hands, and doing a curtsy. Her parents and grandparents had always pampered her as if she were royalty.
“You look beautiful, sweetheart,” her mother said, her eyes showing that she wanted to grab Tori in a bear hug. Tori wrinkled her nose. She loved Momma, but all the hugging was just too much.
Her mother sighed but never reached for Tori. Good, Tori thought. At least she was trying to control her urges.
“Here let me put this blue bow in your hair,” Momma said, stretching out her arms and gathering a hunk of hair as she tried to hold Tori still.
Tori didn’t want the bow in her hair, but she let her momma clasp it, planning to pull it out as soon as she was out of sight. After Momma straightened the bow, she held Tori’s face with both hands and gazed into her eyes. “I can’t believe my baby girl is in first grade. It seems like only yesterday you were born.”
Tori rolled her eyes and whined, “I’m not a baby anymore, Momma. I don’t need you to hold my hand and walk me to school either. It was okay when I was in kindergarten, but not this year.”
“Okay, Miss Independent, I’ll watch from the front yard,” Momma said, and Tori could tell she was fighting back tears.
Tori smiled and kissed her cheek. “You can watch from the front yard. Do you think you’ll be able to see me the whole two blocks?”
“Yes, sweetie, I can see you until you go into the school,” Momma said, playfully pinching Tori’s cheeks.
Tori grabbed her red-and-white checkered book satchel that held all of her school supplies: writing tablet, four number two pencils, an eraser, a bottle of white paste, and one box of crayons. Then she ran out the door, bounded down the three steps, hit the ground running, and didn’t stop until she reached Skycrest Elementary.
“I’m in real school this year,” she mumbled as she walked into the building and down the hallway looking for the door that would have her name on it. “Door number three,” she said as she finally found it, hoping she wasn’t going to have Witch Hazel for a teacher.
Witch Hazel was a name her daddy called any woman who never cracked a smile, was bossy, and acted as if she were the ruler of the world.
She marched into the room and recognized several kids from the neighborhood, but she ignored Tommy Hill, who lived behind her and was always throwing dirt clods over the snowball bush hedge when he heard her playing in the backyard. Her daddy told her that Tommy did it because he had a crush on her, but all she knew was that she wanted to crush Tommy when a clod hit her head or splattered a clean dress.
She scanned the room, looking at all the students. Boys were booger eaters and had cooties as far as she was concerned, and she didn’t intend to be friends with a one of them. Then she saw a blue-eyed girl with golden hair hanging to her shoulders, who leaned against the wall, looking scared. Tori’s heart went out to her and it was if an invisible force drew her toward the pretty girl.
She smiled and said, “Hi, I’m Tori Hicks. Do you want to be my friend?”
The blue eyes lit up and she gave Tori a smile. “I sure do!” she said. “My name is Jill Moss.”
Jill reached out and took Tori’s hand. Tori felt a jolt, like an electric current passed between them. Tori looked at her hand, half expecting to see sparks. Then she saw that Jill was doing the same. Their eyes met and then they started to giggle.
Mrs. Hawthorn clapped her hands and yelled over the roar of chattering children. “Settle down and take a seat anywhere you like for now,” she said in a stern tone.
Oh, No. She was Witch Hazel!
Tori and Jill sat in desks next to each other. Throughout the day, they whispered to each other, giggled and paid little attention to Mrs. Hawthorn. Tori could tell from the looks Mrs. Hawthorn kept giving them that she intended to make them tow the line before long.
At the end of the day, Tori and Jill grabbed their satchels, held each other’s hand, and ran out of the room.
Outside, Tori asked, “Which way are you headed?”
“That way,” Jill answered, pointing her finger toward Maple Street.
“I’m going that way, too!”
Still holding hands, they ran across the street, jumped the curb, and began skipping down the sidewalk. Midway down the second block, Tori pointed. “That’s my momma standing there.”
“And that’s my momma standing beside her!” Jill said. “I wonder how they know each other.”
“I don’t know,” Tori said as they both began to run the rest of the way. Tori was breathless when she reached her mother’s side. “Momma, this is Jill, my new best friend. We’re going to be friends for the rest of our lives!”
Momma smiled. “She’s also your new neighbor. She lives next door.”
“Next door!” Tori cried, looking at Jill. “How come I’ve never seen you until today?”
“Because we just got here last night. We drove all the way from Texas, and that’s a long, long way from here.”
“Oh,” Tori said, though she didn’t know where Texas was.
“This is my momma. Her name is Rose,” Jill said.
Tori looked up at Rose Moss, who was as pretty as a movie star. Tall and slim, she had honey-blond hair, sky-blue eyes, and a beautiful smile, just like Jill’s.
Tori smiled. “Nice to meet you.” Then she pulled on Jill’s hand. “Come on to my house. I want to show you the dolls Grammy made for me. She makes prettier dresses than store-bought ones. She’s the greatest! I’ve got to call her and tell her about my first day in real school.”
Tori practically dragged Jill up the driveway and through the carport. Then she pushed open the side door that led into the kitchen and grabbed the wall phone by the door. “Just a minute, I want to call Grammy before we go upstairs to my room.”
The aroma of fresh baked cookies filled the air. Momma had been baking. Tori reached for Jill’s hand after she dialed, half expecting to feel sparks again.
“Hi, Tori,” Grammy said when she answered the phone. “How was your first day of school?”
“How do you always know it’s me, Grammy?” Grammy always amazed Tori, even though she was used to it. “I had a great day and I made a new friend – and something weird happened when we touched hands. It sort of tingled. Can you explain such a crazy thing?”
Grammy paused a moment, then said, “Well, yes, but, I’m not sure I can explain it so you’ll understand. Let me say this – you two are going to walk through life hand-in-hand – your spirits are linked.”
“Our whats are linked?”
“Your spirits, sweet. You know, the part that goes to Heaven when – oh, never mind. It’ll make more sense when you’re older. Let it go for now.”
“Okay, Grammy. But I want to put Jill on the phone so you can pick up her vibes.”
“Put her on,” Grammy replied.
Jill backed up for a moment, but Tori pushed the receiver toward her. “Just say hello.” She pressed the phone to Jill’s ear.
“Hello,” Jill said hesitantly. Then there was a pause, after which she said, “We just moved here from Texas. June fifteenth. Okay, bye.” She handed the phone back to Tori, whispering, “Your grandma sounds nice.”
Tori smiled and took the phone, placing it back to her ear. “Well, Grammy, are we going to be best friends forever?”
“Yes,” Grammy replied, “And her birthday is on June fifteenth–”
Tori interrupted, “Wow! My birthday is on June fourteenth! I’m only one day older!” She looked at Jill and smiled. “We can celebrate our birthdays together – and have our parties on the same day!”
Grammy laughed. “I think one big birthday party would be fun, too. Jill’s going to be a great friend, and a best friend is the greatest gift anyone can ever hope for. As you go through life, friends come and go, but your one best friend will stay in your life forever.”
“Thanks, Grammy,” Tori said, “But I need to go now. I want to show Jill the dolls you made for me. Bye. Love you!”
“I love you too, sweet,” Grammy said.
Tori put the phone on the hook. “Grammy said our spirits are linked, which means we’ll be best friends for the rest of our lives!”
“Cool!” Jill smiled, and then followed as Tori raced toward the staircase.
At the bottom of the stairs, Jill asked, “Can’t we have some cookies first?”
“I’ll tell you what. I’ll show you my room and then we’ll get some cookies and milk, okay?” Tori took Jill’s hand and pulled her onto the first step. “Don’t step on the second one because it cracks louder than thunder.”
As Jill skipped the second step and they walked to the top of the stairs, Tori pointed like a tour guide. “The first room on the right is mine. The one at the end of the hall is Momma and Daddy’s, but we can’t go into it, ever. I think there must be secrets that nobody is supposed to know about except Momma and Daddy. That’s all I can figure out, but Momma acts as if something terrible will happen to me if I enter their chambers. It’s silly.”
Jill eyed Tori’s parents’ bedroom. “I think I see a green monster sticking its head around the door. It would probably eat us if we go too close,” she said, her eyes widening in horror.
“Don’t be silly,” Tori said with a giggle. “There aren’t any monsters of any color in there. We just have to stay out. Momma will be the monster that will eat us if we disobey.”
“Okay,” Jill answered.
They entered Tori’s bedroom and Tori watched as Jill eyed the lavender walls and the blue, lavender, and pink bedspread and pillow shames.
Jill looked up at dolls on the shelf above the headboard of Tori’s bed. There were twenty dolls on metal stands and a few regular baby dolls lying on their stomachs in front of them.
“Grammy knitted sweaters and booties for the baby dolls,” Tori said, picking up each doll one by one and handing them to Jill.
