by Joy Redmond
Grammy had supper on the table and Wes and Tori sat next to each other holding hands. After Poppy had said grace, he began telling Wes that he thought his grandson-in-law was one heck of a man for carrying a full class load, working, and making the long drive to see his wife every other weekend.
Wes reveled in the admiration, and Tori thought he deserved the right to do so. She admired him, too. He was one heck of a man, and she was sure he would be one heck of a daddy, too.
After supper, Wes and Tori walked around the farm as the moon and bright stars lit up the sky. They held hands, hugged, kissed, and acted like the teenagers they used to be. Tori felt as if she were glowing as bright as the moon.
Every few minutes, Wes roamed his hand over Tori’s stomach. “I still haven’t felt it kick yet.”
“He’ll move when he gets ready. He moves the most when I’m trying to sleep. I guess he’s trying to get me use to staying up all night after he gets here, huh?”
Wes looked at Tori and cocked his head to one side. “Why are you calling the baby a he? I thought you said it was going to be a girl.”
Tori smiled. “Oh, I’ll go ahead and tell you. Grammy saw him in a vision – and you know we never doubt Grammy’s visions.”
Wes didn’t respond.
“I’ve got an idea,” Tori said. “Grammy and Poppy are asleep by now, so why don’t we go snuggle on the featherbed while you tell me all about your classes and job? I miss talking and laughing with you.”
Before Wes could answer, Tori took off running toward the house. “The last one to the bed is a rotten egg!”
Wes quickly caught up with her and pulled her to his body. “Don’t be running like that! You’re going to jostle my baby and scramble its brains, you goofball.” They laughed, looped arms, hurried into the house and into the bedroom.
Tori flopped onto the bed and gazed at her stomach. “What do you think of my tummy? Does it turn you off?”
Wes climbed into bed, kissed her stomach, and sweetly said, “I think it’s sexy.” Then he kissed his way up to her lips, making her understand what all those romance movies and books had been talking about.
They lay in each other’s arm and talked about the silly things they had done during high school. At one point Tori laughed so loudly that she wondered if she had wakened Grammy and Poppy. She looked over Wes’ shoulder half expecting Poppy to come running into the bedroom with a shotgun, ready to shoot an intruder.
After talking for a long time, Tori snuggled against Wes’ warm body and fell asleep.
* * * *
The next morning, the farm’s rooster woke Tori and Wes up at the crack of dawn. “That’s the loudest cockle-doodle-dang-do, I’ve ever heard,” Tori mumbled as she pushed off the bed, hurrying for the bathroom. “Another joy of pregnancy. Pee, pee, all the time,” she said, and giggled.
Tori returned to the bedroom, and Wes was sitting on the side of the bed, running his hands through his hair and rubbing his eyes as if he couldn’t wake himself up. When he finally stood up and reached for his jeans, Tori ran over and pinched his butt.
“Hey, take it easy! You don’t want to bruise the bun.” He took her in his strong arms and added, “I’m so happy when I’m with you. You can always make me laugh.” He kissed her, and then said, “We may never make it to the breakfast table.”
Tori pulled away and giggled. “Go on in the kitchen and pour me a cup of coffee. I’ll get dressed and be with you in a minute. Do you want to go find Jill and Billy after we eat? I know they’d love to see us. Maybe Grammy won’t have a cow if we leave. She won’t let me out of her sight and it drives me crazy.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Wes answered.
Tori eyed herself in the mirror. “Is my face getting fat? It looks fat to me.” She turned around. Wes wasn’t in the room. “Well, alrighty then,” she sang, and wondered how long she’d been talking to herself.
After breakfast they drove into town, found Jill and Billy, and they spent the day at old hangouts in Madison, just like old times. They drove past the old high school building, which was scheduled to be torn down. It brought tears to Tori’s eyes to think about it, since Dixon High held so many precious memories. “Goodbye, Dixon High,” she mumbled.
Tori turned her head and eyed Jill and Billy in the back seat. The sight of them touched her heart. She pumped her fist into the air and yelled, “The four musketeers forever!”
“Forever!” everyone yelled in response, followed by a wave of happy laughter.
Tori didn’t want the day to end, she didn’t want to say goodbye to Jill, and she dreaded the next day when she’d have to kiss Wes goodbye and wait for his return, which always seemed like an eternity to her.
* * * *
For the entire next month, Wes wasn’t able to come back for a visit because of his work schedule, studies, and football. Tori walked the farm endlessly, feeling as if the life was being sucked out of her. Dr. Harrison had told her to walk two miles a day, and though she didn’t know exactly how far it was, she faithfully walked around the farm every morning and afternoon.
One morning in mid-November, she began her daily walk, cradling her stomach so she could hug her precious son. As she neared the barn, she heard the familiar sound of Jill’s Pinto coming up the driveway.
“Jill!” she squealed. “You always know when to show up. It’s downright uncanny.” Tori hurried to greet her best friend. “What are you doing here in the middle of the week?” she asked as Jill stepped out of the car.
Jill hugged her. “I cut class today. I had an overwhelming urge to see you. I felt it so strong that I couldn’t have concentrated, anyway, so here I am!” Jill hugged Tori again, her body swaying as if she were rocking a baby.
“I think you read my mind, just like you’ve done so many times,” Tori said. “I was on my way to the barn to feed Henry and take him out for a walk. Henry will be glad to see you, too. We’ve ridden many miles on his back.” Tori took Jill’s hand.
As they neared the barn, Jill waved hello to Poppy, who was greasing the old tractor. Henry snorted in his stall and threw his head back the way he always did when he wanted to get out and run, and he always seemed to think he could out run the wind.
Tori opened the door to Henry’s stall and he reared on his hind legs, his front legs pawing the air.
“Hey, big boy, calm down,” she said, reaching for his neck. “I’m going to let you out.”
Suddenly one of Henry’s front hooves struck Tori in the stomach, knocking her to the ground. Then he jumped over her and as he did, one of his hind legs kicked her in the side, slamming her body against the wall.
“Tori!” Jill screamed as she ran to Tori’s side.
Tori could hear Jill screaming and she was trying to speak but words wouldn’t come out of her mouth. Then she felt the ground vibrate beneath heavy footsteps coming toward her.
“Help her, Poppy!”
Trembling arms wrap around Tori and lifted her off the ground. Then she was being carried as Poppy ran as quickly as his aging legs would allow.
Tori could hear Jill calling for Grammy, but Grammy apparently wasn’t in the house. Poppy gently placed her on the sofa in the living room. Again she tried to speak but no words would come out.
She heard Jill’s voice, “We need an ambulance at the Morgan farm on Old Mill Road. “Please hurry!”
Tori was desperately trying to ask for Momma and Daddy when she heard Jill, again. “Mona, you and Ed need to meet us at the emergency room. Tori has been hurt. There’s no time to talk now. I’ll tell you all about it when we get there. The ambulance will be here in a few minutes!”
Voices seemed to be coming from afar as Poppy called for Grammy.
She felt the soft touch of Grammy’s hand wrapping around her own. “You told me it was coming,” Grammy mumbled, “but you didn’t tell me soon enough.”
Who told Grammy what? Tori wondered.
Poppy lifted her again into his arms, and warm blood ran dow
n her legs. “S-sorry,” she whimpered for the stains she made on Grammy’s area rug.
“No, no. Don’t you worry, now.” Grammy squeezed the hand she still held.
Tori’s body felt as limp as a ragdoll. Poppy’s hot tears dropped onto her forehead. She couldn’t stop shaking; it was like she was freezing to death.
“Hold on, Tori. Please don’t give up,” Jill said as she wrapped a soft blanket around Tori. “Fight for your life and for your baby.”
Then the world went mute and all became a blur.
Tori fought against the pull that threatened to drag her into darkness. She had to stay awake. They were close now. She could hear the ambulance approaching, its siren wailing as it raced up the driveway.
New voices came into the room – lots of questions – Jill answering.
The two paramedics placed Tori on a stretcher. She felt like she watched someone else as they adjusted the straps, and rushed her outside and into the back of the ambulance.
The siren again started to scream and Tori heard one of the paramedics, “En route with an eighteen-year-old female, five months pregnant, trampled by horse – bleeding profusely. Request assistance and permission for treatment.”
Another voice responded, “Start an IV with Lactated Ringers, drip wide open. Bring her to O. R. three. I’ll have a surgical team ready.”
Everything went gray and fuzzy, and once again Tori struggled against the sensation of being pulled under. Fight...fight...
“Tori, honey, I’m here.” It was her mother’s voice
Tori fluttered her eyes open. Fluorescent lights beamed overhead, one after the other in a long succession as she traveled down a corridor. Were they at the hospital already?
“We’ll be right here!” her mother called as they slowed to turn a corner.
They pushed through double doors and Tori was hit with a sudden chill of air. All around her chaos ensued – people wearing masks, barking orders, bright lights and strange machines. Tears rolled down Tori’s face as she pictured her family and Jill heading to the waiting room, where they would wait, pray, and cry.
Then the world went black.
Anna’s Note
November 14, 1975
I must have paced ten miles in the waiting room at the hospital today. Only the aching in my hips forced me to sit every now and then. I sat on the sofa next to Tom, scanned the room, eyeing the grief stricken faces of my daughter and son-in-law.
I tried to piece together the vision I’d seen the day Tori was born. Pool of blood – a large pool of blood at Tom’s feet. A knife – the surgeon was using a scalpel. A gun – Tom had vowed that he would shoot Henry.
I cupped my chin and creased my brow. Then I heard a voice and I looked up to see Father O’Malley standing in front of me. He extended his hand.
I took his warm hand as chills ran my spine. The man dressed in black.
All the pieces fit.
Then I remembered there was still one last piece – the coffin.
Anna West-Morgan
Chapter Nine
Grammy insisted that Tori go home with her after she was released from the hospital. For the next five months, Tori seldom got out of bed. She was lost in the darkness of guilt and depression. She was angry with God for taking her baby – and angry with herself for somehow being responsible for her unborn son’s death.
She glanced at the bedside clock. It showed 9:10. She balled her fist and rubbed her eyes. The window shade was pulled down, but the bright sunrays penetrated the thin material, which was at least forty years old.
She got out of bed, pulled on the bottom of the shade and it went to the top without yanking. She looked out the window and realized the world was still turning, waiting for her to come back. She opened the window so she could smell Poppy’s clover field. It was in full bloom – the beautiful purple color she had always loved so much, and the sweet smell of it filled her lungs and lifted her spirits. She actually wanted to fly out of the window as if she were a bumblebee and suck the sweet nectar.
Tori inhaled deeply as images of her running barefoot through the field of purple flowers with Jill, danced through her mind. She remembered them picking the blooms and sticking them behind their ears, singing and dancing like fairies. She smiled as she recalled bringing bouquets of clover into the house for Grammy to put into vases and how the clover would fill the house with its sweet aroma.
As she gazed out the window, a warm April breeze caressed her face like the loving touch of a favorite aunt. April was always her favorite month – but she couldn’t remember anything about the previous five months. How could she have missed Thanksgiving – and Christmas? Had the family even celebrated Christmas last year? She couldn’t remember. It was if she’d been in a deep sleep and had just woken up – like the newly awaking world outside her bedroom window.
“I need a bath and a shampoo,” she said happily, as if that would be the perfect thing to celebrate her return to the world. She wanted to live, not exist, and she couldn’t wait to begin.
She walked over to her dresser, took out panties and a bra, and then strolled to the closet and pulled a green sundress off a hanger. She went down the hall and into the bathroom, turned on the water, and poured in some special jasmine-scented bath salt. She pulled off her gown that hung on her like a gunnysack, patted her stomach, and mumbled, “Flat.”
Tori stepped into the old claw foot tub, and as the warm water enveloped her, she sank back against the rim, closed her eyes, and thanked God for her life.
After luxuriating for a long time, she poured shampoo over her hair, massaged her scalp, and rinsed it out. Then she splashed fresh water over her body. It was one of the most wonderful baths she’d ever taken – and the absurdity of such a simple pleasure made her chuckle. She stepped out of the tub and dried off, surprised that even such a simple exercise made her tired. Apparently, her body was going to need to readjust to living along with her mind and spirit.
Her hands trembled as she generously rubbed lotion over her skinny body. As she fluffed her wet hair with her fingers, she found herself being thankful for her curly hair. She wiped the steam off the mirror above the sink and was startled by the face that stared back at her. The woman in the mirror was gaunt and pale, but she was wearing a hopeful smile – and Tori looked forward to spending time with her as she began to reclaim her life.
Tori put on her makeup, brushed on a little blush, rolled some coral-colored lipstick up the tube, and applied it to her lips. She dug through her makeup case, found her mascara, pale-green eye shadow, and applied them. Finally, she stood back and admired her reflection. The transformation was remarkable.
“Voila!” she said, holding her arms out as if to embrace the smiling young woman in the mirror. She chuckled as she thought how she must have looked for five months – like she had a case of the epizootic. It was a term Grammy used when somebody was sick with a mysterious disease.
Tori walked into the living room, gazed toward the beautiful fireplace, and stood in adoration as renewed vitality surged through her again. She headed into the kitchen, intent on making some coffee and having a hearty breakfast. It was strange, but she couldn’t remember eating for many months. This morning she was hungry – hungry for many things.
As she entered the kitchen, Grammy opened the back door and stepped inside, carrying a basket of eggs. It took a second, but when she saw Tori, she did a double take and then exclaimed, “Tori!” She set the eggs on the counter, threw her arms open wide and rushed to Tori’s side, laughing and crying at the same time.
“My stars in heaven! You look beautiful, child! My prayers have finally been answered!”
“Thanks, Grammy. I feel great,” Tori said, returning Grammy’s warm hug.
“Are you hungry? Can I fix you something to eat?” Grammy asked.
“I’m starving, but while you make something, I’d like to call Wes, if it’s okay to make a long distance call on your phone?”
“Sure, sweet,”
Grammy said, her eyes dancing. “Call him and talk as long as you want. I’ll have breakfast done by the time you’re done.”
Tori hurried for the phone, looked at the number scrawled across the front of the phonebook, and quickly dialed. Her fingers and innards trembled, so she took deep breaths as the phone rang ten times. Finally, she dropped the receiver into the cradle, her high spirits wilting.
Since Wes didn’t answer, she dialed Jill, and she answered on the third ring.
“Jill!” Tori said with delight.
“Tori!” Jill squealed, almost piercing Tori’s eardrum.
“I’m dying to see you,” Tori said. “Can you get out here right away?”
“You bet I can,” Jill replied. “I’m on my way as soon as we hang up the phone!”
Tori could picture Jill dancing a little jig, pumping her fist in the air, and then grabbing her purse and car keys from the kitchen table and racing for her front door. Tori smiled as she picked up the phone and dialed another number.
“Hicks Feed and Grain.”
“Momma? It’s Tori. I love you!”
“Tori?” her mother asked, her voice trembling. “Honey, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Momma. Actually, I’ve never felt better,” Tori said, feeling her own tears begin to fall. “I just wanted to call and tell you I love you. And I’d like to tell Daddy, too. Is he there?”
“Oh, honey, I love you so much,” her mother replied. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but Daddy had to make a farm call. As soon as we close tonight, we’ll be out to see you. You sound wonderful. Are you eating?”
“I’m about to start eating everything in the house, starting with the breakfast I can smell Grammy making as we speak. It smells like biscuits and gravy. I’ll see you tonight. Tell Daddy I love him. Bye.”
“We love you, too. Bye, honey. ”
As Tori hung up, she felt Grammy’s hand on her shoulder. “There’s nothing wrong with your sense of smell, sweet,” Grammy said. “Biscuits and gravy it is. I had a feeling that’s what you’d want on your first day back.”