Sleep No More

by Susan Crandall

  Maggie turned the page. Momma and Daddy were dressed up, going to a fundraiser. (When Maggie was little and didn’t know better, she had thought it was a fun-raiser. She’d always been so mad that she had never got to go see the fun.) It was for Momma’s and Daddy’s special group, COC. Maggie had kept this picture because this was the night when Momma came home so happy because some rich man had promised a lot, lot, lot of money.

  Because of COC, sometimes Maggie got to fly to places where most of the people had beautiful brown skin and black hair and there weren’t hardly any trees. But sometimes she had to stay with Grandma, because Daddy said it was too dangerous. When it was dangerous, Maggie didn’t want Momma and Daddy to go, either. But Momma said they had to go help the children who didn’t have parents anymore.

  Two years ago it was dangerous, and they went away. They didn’t come home.

  Now Maggie didn’t have parents.

  Grandma moved to a place like Tidewater Manor right after that. It was in New Jersey, where Maggie used to live. That’s when Maggie had come here to live with Uncle Father.

  It was God’s plan. Uncle Father needed her.

  But sometimes she felt so sad. Sometimes she just wanted to brush Momma’s orange-gold hair.

  Maggie ran her finger over Momma’s hair in the picture, trying to remember how it felt. It was getting harder and harder to remember—

  The alarm on the back door went off, startling Maggie and making her heart beat fast.

  She waited for Uncle Father to shut it off. But it kept screaming.

  “Uncle Father?” she called, starting to sweat with fear.

  A loud clatter came from the kitchen.

  Maggie jumped up and dropped her album on the floor. “Uncle Father?”

  She started toward the kitchen, but stopped.

  The back door had been locked. All of the doors were locked and their alarms on. Uncle Father had made sure.

  She leaned toward the kitchen. “Uncle Father?”

  The air was moving through the house, like the door was open.

  She grabbed the phone and dialed Uncle Father’s cell phone. He said to call right away if she got scared. He promised he would come right over from the church.

  She heard it ringing through the phone.

  And then she heard it playing the ring tone… in the house.

  “Abby?”

  Abby roused and blinked, orienting herself. They were passing the tractor supply store on the edge of Preston.

  “We’re almost home,” Jason said.

  “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

  “You needed it. You’re still running on a deficit.” He reached over and ran a hand over her hair. “How are you feeling?”

  Like I want to finish what we started before dinner. The taste of intimacy he’d shown her had only ignited her need for more. But more probably wasn’t in the cards. Jason didn’t seem the kind of man to take a relationship halfway, to live only for the moment.

  She said, “Good.”

  “While you were asleep, I was thinking about some of the things you said while you were with Sonja. Do you remember talking about the fire?”

  She did, vaguely. And she immediately wanted to turn her mind away from the memory. “A little.”

  “Sonja thinks that since you jumped right into that memory, perhaps you still have unresolved issues.”

  “Well, duh.” Irritation shot through her veins. “How am I supposed to resolve the fact that I burned down a house that had been in my father’s family for over a hundred and fifty years? How am I supposed to resolve ruining my sister’s life? How do I resolve the pain I caused? Just how does one do that?”

  “It will never go away, I understand that. But you can forgive yourself. Accept it for the accident that it was. I think that’s what Sonja meant.” Jason’s tone was steady, unresponsive to her anger.

  Abby sat there looking out the passenger window. “I don’t want to talk about this now.”

  He reached over and took her hand. “Abby, please. Just work with me for a bit here.”

  She didn’t respond.

  He asked, “Where did the fire start?”

  She sighed. He was not going to leave this alone.

  “In the dining room,” she said through tight lips. She closed her eyes and saw the charred pile of rubble that had been left in dawn’s light the next day. Blackened bones of a home, still exhaling the last of its life in tiny smoke trails. “The house was fully involved when we got out. By the time the fire department arrived, they couldn’t save it.”

  And Courtney—oh God, Courtney, her baby sister. Abby could still hear her screams. Sometimes they woke her from a dead sleep. Other times they came from the blue light of day.

  Right now their echoes haunted her in a way that both broke her heart and turned her stomach. She kept her face to the window to hide the freshness of the pain. Forgiveness. Jason had no idea what he was asking of her.

  The car was slowing, pulling to the curb in front of the brightly lit Shell station.

  She didn’t look at him when she asked, “Why are we stopping here?”

  “Because I want to look at you.”

  She turned, her lower lip between her teeth.

  He was looking at her with such intensity that she immediately looked away.

  Reaching around, he gently touched her chin. “Look at me, Abby. I want to help you.”

  “Fix me,” she corrected, as she turned his way. “You want to fix me and it can’t be done.”

  “What?” He looked as startled as if she’d just accused him of being a thief.

  “It’s what you do. Fix people. But there is no fixing me, Jason.”

  “I am not trying to fix you. There’s nothing to fix.” He sighed and ran a hand over his face. “I’m not trying to upset you, either. I don’t know much about what happened, and what you told Sonja raised some questions.”

  “Like what?” She’d tried to ignore him; she’d tried to start an argument. Nothing worked. He wasn’t going to give up. It was probably best if he knew it all, then he would understand why she’d made the life choices she had. And maybe, he’d find a way to have a relationship with her and live with them.

  “Did they have a theory on how it started?” Jason asked.

  “I lit an antique oil lamp that was on the sideboard, and then knocked it over. Sleepwalkers aren’t very graceful.”

  “Why did they assume it was you?”

  “Because I’d done lots of everyday things before, turned on the TV, took a bath, went out and planted flowers, turned on the stove.

  “And that lamp was a big deal. We always burned it during Sunday dinner, some family tradition that was started way, way back. I’d just been given the privilege of lighting it the Sunday before.”

  For a moment, he looked thoughtful. “How long had you been having trouble with sleepwalking before the fire?”

  She gave her head a slight shake. “Maybe a year, maybe a little less.”

  “You woke up in the living room—”

  “I was sleepwalking.”

  “But you said the fire was going strong.”

  “The oil accelerated it. It was an old house.”

  “How did you get out?”

  “My dad found me unconscious in the living room—”

  Abby’s cell phone rang. It was so unexpected, so shrill in the quiet of the car, she jumped as if she’d been pinched. She pulled it out of her purse. “It’s Maggie.”

  She answered.

  “Abbbeeeeee! Help!” Maggie cried. “I n-n-need help….”

  CHAPTER 20

  Abby’s hand tightened on the phone. She fought the panic that threatened to sweep away reason. Maggie needed her; she had to keep her head.

  She gestured toward the street ahead and whispered, “Drive!” to Jason. Then into the phone, she asked, “Maggie, are you at home?”

  “Yes. Oh, Abbbeeeeee….”

  Abby nodded as Jason glanced a
t her for confirmation. His face showed none of the panic that was ricocheting like a stray bullet inside her.

  “I’m on my way, sweetie.”

  Maggie cried, “There’s blood… I don’t know what to do….”

  “Whose blood?” She could barely croak out the words.

  “Uh-uh-uncle Father’s.”

  Abby felt a little rush of relief that Maggie wasn’t hurt. “What happened?”

  “I don’t knooow.” Maggie’s voice was on the verge of hysteria. “He’s in the kitchen.”

  “Can he talk?”

  “He’s trying to.” Maggie’s speech was getting thicker and more difficult to understand. “I don’t know what he’s saying… his mouth is bleeding.”

  It sounded like trying to speak to him on the phone would be useless.

  “I’ll be there in three minutes. But Maggie, I want you to hang up the phone and then call 911.”

  “I don’t want to hang up—” She broke off in a sob.

  “It’s okay. I’m almost there. But your uncle needs a doctor. Call 911 now, Maggie.”

  She heard a pitiful, thin whine, but the phone disconnected.

  “Father Kevin is hurt,” Abby said to Jason. “I have no idea how badly.”

  Jason was already pushing the speed limit. The streets of Preston were deserted at midnight on Sunday. The stoplights had switched to flashers. Jason only slowed before he went through two that were flashing red.

  When he swerved to the curb in front of the rectory, Abby was out before the car stopped moving. She ran up to the lighted front porch. The door was locked. She sprinted back down the steps and around the side of the house. The back door was standing open, light spilling from the kitchen into the yard.

  Abby recognized the high-pitched squeal of an add-on door alarm like hers and her heart did a stutter-step.

  By the time she made it to the back door, she heard Jason right behind her.

  Father Kevin was in the middle of the kitchen floor, a chair from the table overturned next to him. There was a smear of blood next to his head on the floor, as if he’d landed face-first then rolled over. His left eye was purple and swollen shut and his nose looked broken.

  Maggie wailed, “He wouldn’t let me do it!” She was kneeling next to her uncle, trying to wipe away the blood on his face with a wet kitchen towel. Her face was red and wet with tears.

  Abby went to Maggie’s side and knelt. Jason shut off that damn alarm and went to Father Kevin’s other side. Jason gently removed Maggie’s hand from where she was trying to clean her uncle’s face.

  She immediately threw her arms around Abby, bloody rag and all. “I tried. He wh-wh-wouldn’t let me.”

  “What wouldn’t he let you do?” She rubbed Maggie’s back to soothe her.

  “Call 911.” Her mouth was muffled against Abby’s neck. “He knocked the phone out of my hand.”

  Abby saw the bloodstained cordless phone lying halfway across the room near the refrigerator. Father Kevin was obviously delirious with pain.

  “It’s okay… it’s okay,” she crooned softly. “See, I brought Dr. Coble. He’ll help your uncle.”

  Abby watched Jason assess Father Kevin. When Jason gently examined Father Kevin’s mouth, one of his front teeth appeared to be either missing or broken off at the gum line. Jason’s hands moved over the priest’s body, asking if various areas were in pain. Father Kevin groaned when Jason touched the man’s ribs.

  “Maggie, can you get some ice from the freezer?” Jason asked.

  Abby shot him a look. “I’ll get it.” Didn’t he see how upset Maggie was?

  “No. I’ll get it,” Maggie said, releasing her death grip around Abby’s neck and sniffling loudly. “It’s my job.”

  Abby closed her eyes and let out a long breath. Jason knew exactly what Maggie needed.

  Abby mouthed, “Sorry.” But Jason’s focus was back on the priest.

  “Do you think you can sit up?” Jason asked.

  Father Kevin gave a slow, shaky nod.

  Jason assisted him into a sitting position, which clearly caused Father Kevin some pain.

  Maggie returned with a bowl of ice.

  “Maggie, put some of that ice in a clean dishtowel. Then we can hold it on your uncle’s face while we drive to the hospital.”

  Father Kevin expressed his displeasure loudly, if not understandably.

  Jason said quietly, “We have to go to the hospital.” While Father Kevin continued to sound his muted protest, Jason handed the keys to Abby. “Bring the car around to the alley. It’ll be shorter.”

  “Shouldn’t we call for an ambulance?” Abby asked.

  Father Kevin shook his head sluggishly, mumbling.

  “We can get him there faster,” Jason said. He looked at Abby, “Go. Hurry.”

  By the time Abby stopped the car in the alley behind the rectory, Jason and Maggie were halfway across the backyard with Father Kevin between them.

  “Open the front passenger door,” Jason said, huffing with exertion. “It’ll be easier to get him in there.”

  Once they had him inside and the seat belt around him, Jason got behind the wheel. Abby and Maggie got in the back.

  Father Kevin started shaking. Maggie leaned forward and tried to give him the ice-filled towel. He didn’t seem to notice.

  “Buckle up, girls.” Jason put the car in gear and shot out of the alley.

  “But he needs ice,” Maggie said.

  Abby made certain Maggie had her belt on and then took the ice pack from her. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Instead of putting on her own seat belt, Abby pressed herself against the back of the passenger seat and gently applied the ice to Father Kevin’s mouth—which looked only slightly worse than his left eye.

  The hospital was only ten minutes away. Jason made it in eight.

  Jason returned from the coffee machine and stood in front of Abby and Maggie. They were seated side by side in a couple of wood-armed upholstered chairs in the emergency waiting room. Abby handled Maggie as well as an experienced mother. She was caring, yet not overprotective and coddling; which would only validate and fuel Maggie’s fear.

  At least she’d stopped asking if her uncle was going to die. Abby had nipped that right away.

  But the stress was taking its toll. Maggie’s teeth were starting to chatter with her trembling.

  Jason handed her a cup of hot tea with plenty of sugar. “Drink some of this, Maggie. It’ll make you feel better.”

  Maggie looked up at him as if he were Superman. “You saved Uncle Father.”

  “No, honey,” he said. “You did.”

  Maggie didn’t smile her trademark smile, but she did sit up a little straighter when she accepted the tea. She wrapped her hands around the warm cup and he could see there was still a little blood crusted under her fingernails. His heart ached for her. Father Kevin was all she had, and to have found him like that….

  He asked, “Do you know what happened to your uncle?”

  Maggie took a small sip of tea, then shook her head. “He had been in his church office. I was looking at pictures and the alarm went off. I heard a loud noise. I guess he fell in the kitchen and hurt himself.”

  Abby looked at Jason. He didn’t believe Father Kevin had hurt himself that badly by falling in the kitchen any more than she did.

  Jason lifted his chin, asking Abby to walk away with him.

  “I’m going to get a drink of water,” she said softly to Maggie. “It’s just across the room there. I won’t be out of sight.”

  Once they were beyond Maggie’s earshot Jason said, “He did say he fell; I understood that much when they were checking him in.”

  “It must have been someplace other than the kitchen. Maggie said he’d been next door. Maybe he fell at the church. The steps outside his office are old and pretty steep.”

  “Makes more sense than tripping in the kitchen. Would also explain the open kitchen door.” He glanced over at Maggie. “They said some
one can go back and sit with him. I don’t think it should be Maggie. And she’ll be more comfortable out here with you. I’ll go.”

  “Okay.” She looked at him with the same kind of veneration and confidence that Maggie had.

  He liked it, but he didn’t deserve it.

  “Keep us posted.” She turned to go back to Maggie.

  Pausing with his hand on the door that led to Emergency, he looked over his shoulder at her. She was sitting with her arm around Maggie. Her head tilted to the side, her dark hair resting on the top of Maggie’s head.

  Abby was the one who deserved to be adored. She did everything in her power to protect the people she cared for. Yes, she deserved to be adored… and she deserved peace. And right now he could only offer one of the above.

  He forced himself to stop looking at her and opened the door into the Emergency area.

  It was nearly four-thirty in the morning when Abby and Jason delivered Father Kevin and Maggie back home. They were met there by Father Kevin’s housekeeper, Mrs. White, whom he’d had Abby call from the hospital. She was a widow and was willing to stay as long as she was needed. It was clear by her fussing that Father Kevin would get much closer attention here than he would have had he been admitted into the hospital. And she had a good relationship with Maggie, which made Abby feel a little less like a heel leaving her.

  Maggie had made it perfectly clear as soon as they’d arrived that taking care of her uncle was her job. Mrs. White could cook and clean and do laundry all she wanted; Father Kevin was Maggie’s.

  As they drove away, Abby felt the letdown from her adrenaline rush. She stifled a yawn.

  “You were right about the church steps,” Jason said. They’d avoided talking about the accident while Maggie was with them. “Before they gave him that dose of Demerol, he managed to convey that he’d tripped at the top and fallen all the way down. He landed on his face on the sidewalk.”