Something Down There
Page 31
Karen’s lips trembled. “The baby’s strange. Very strange.”
“No!” said Rahm. “Not strange. Different.”
“‘Different,’” she said, dragging out the syllables. As her clenched hands unfolded, she met his eyes with her own off-centered glance. Moving closer, she reached for the stone, picturing it, a one-of-a-kind gem hanging from her neck above her suckling, one-of-a-kind infant.
Rahm pressed her hand, the pearl another link between them. “It would look lovely on you. Perfect.”
She gently rubbed its blemish. “Perfectly unique.”
“Perfectly different.”
Karen shifted her gaze to the slice of blue above, and breathed deeply to gather her strength. She took a step forward and whispered, “Adieu mon amour,” then looked back at the world she occupied, the underworld—her prison, her asylum, and now her aberrant child’s asylum too. With fingers intertwined in supplication, she mouthed a silent blessing for Jeremy—her husband—the only man she had ever loved. Despite all they had been through, the betrayals, the lies, the hurt, she knew she would never love another. Not like this.
Concentrating, she fixed his image in her mind’s eye as the rising sun framed him with a corona, a symbol of freedom in his deliverance. She would always want to think of him this way. But now she would bow to her fate, with the prehension that this moment was sealed long ago. And though she might regret it tomorrow, she turned toward the cave—her cave. Reaching out to embrace the darkness, she didn’t flinch as hands pulled her down, leading her home.
The End
Nancy Widrew was born and raised in NYC before settling in New England with her husband. She has two grown children and two four-legged furry ones, always a source of amusement. She has had short stories published in webzines and a print anthology. This is her first novel.