The Witch (27 page)

“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 daughter, 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.

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
.”

“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 little 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.”

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?

He gave a last look at Grannie Smith’s bedroom window before heading straight for the broken basement window. Some glass lay on the ground, but most had fallen into the basement, and no one had repaired it.

Crouching down, he peeked into the basement and saw shards of glass and heard the furnace kick in. Soon it would be dark, but if he entered the basement now, he’d be able to find the flashlight under the stairs.

Stephen carefully pulled some of the broken glass from the frame of the window before sliding his legs through. If he could set a foot on the furnace, he could let himself down slowly. He extended his right leg as far as it would go and found nothing to rest his foot upon.

What a long way down
.

And he’d have to make sure he didn’t cut himself on the loose glass lying on the cement floor.

He wiggled farther inside the window, his belly pressed against the ledge. His arms became tired, his fingers slipped on the smoothness of the inside ledge, and he dropped to the floor with a loud thump.

Small pieces of glass bit into his palms, and his left knee ached. He took a moment to catch his breath before rising to his feet. Limping away from the broken glass, he checked his hands. Small cuts cris-crossed his palms. When he leaned over he saw his jeans had ripped at the knees and the skin on his left knee had broken open and was bleeding.

Looking up, he faced the wooden box on the table. The dwarf stared at him while the others turned their faces away. Stephen rushed under the staircase but almost fell from the sharp pain in his knee. He found the flashlight and tested it. Good battery power. He sighed with relief.

A low growl caught his attention. The wolf peered up from its bed of old clothes. Its flesh and fur had just begun to take on life. Giggles coming from behind Stephen’s back reminded him that darkness had almost arrived.

“Momma, I want to talk to you. Please show yourself.”

“The child wants his momma. How cute.”

Stephen ignored the scratchy whisper.

“Momma, Grandma is sick. Did you let the uglies hurt her?”