What Emma Left Behind

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What Emma Left Behind Page 32

by Anne Spackman


  * * * * *

  Dr. Windlebume moved away from his patient, dropping the stethoscope in his hand and letting it fall noiselessly over his many chins to the padded breast of his tweed coat. Claudia tried hard not to stare as he opened his mouth to reveal two pitchfork-like incisors protruding downwards like identical walrus tusks.

  "Pneumonia," he announced in a flat, emotionless voice that Claudia perceived was the only way he knew how to distance himself from the situation. Gathering up his various instruments and putting them in his little black bag, he left the room with Mrs. Campbell to further discuss Caera's symptoms and decide on the best medication for her. Claudia suppressed a giggle as the giant walrus squeezed through the door and waddled off.

  Suddenly, she remembered her sister's sleeping form and sat down worriedly on the edge of the bed, keeping a silent vigil over her. Caera's face was beaded with rivulets of sweat, and the short hair near her forehead was sopping wet. She slept with her legs pulled in for warmth, but Claudia laid an extra blanket over her sister, who wouldn't stop shivering.

  Susanna

  Emma gathered up her skirts to follow her cousin Susanna into the cool, shallow water. The sun shone brightly, but the wind was strong and her hair blew across her face, so that she had to pull it out of her mouth with her free hand. It was nearing three o' clock on a Saturday late in summer, and the sand's growing heat made the water more and more inviting to her feet.

  Susanna was ahead of her, knee-deep in the water and splashing around in her linen shift and skirt, all but drenching her cousin as she approached. Removing a wet curl from her cheek, Emma exclaimed,

  "Stop splashing me! You're getting me all wet!"

  "Oh am I?" Susanna asked with elaborate innocence before "accidentally" sending an enormous wave in Emma's direction. Emma was momentarily knocked off her feet and came up with a mouthful of salt water. Spitting it out, she erupted into a fit of giggles before retaliating. While Susanna thought they were both still laughing, Emma had stopped and was dousing her friend's ringlets.

  Susanna jumped when the cold water hit her in a salty spray, and she opened her eyes to find a piece of seaweed draped across her nose. Her lips pursed sourly then spread into a fiendish smile, and for a few minutes a great battle was waged which culminated in both parties being thoroughly soaked. Laughing their way to shore, they spread out like flounders on the hot sand.

  Side by side, Susanna and Emma looked like night and day. Although both shared similar facial features that they had inherited from their fathers' side of the family, Susanna's mother was of French extraction and like her, Susanna's hair was a lustrous raven black while hers hair was dark blond. She had always been closer to Susanna than any of her other cousins because both had lost their mothers at an early age and had bonded together in their loneliness. Susanna smiled and closed her eyes, relishing the tranquillity of the beautiful day, but suddenly a cloud that had not been there before darkened the sky, and Emma saw a ghastly vision of another day.

  Summer had yielded to cold winter winds, and Susanna's smile was a fleeting memory. Now Susanna was dressed entirely in black, and tears streamed down her face as a procession marched past, a group of young men bearing something away on their shoulders. This other Susanna choked back a sob and blinked her red eyes open, trying to stifle the anguish that wrenched her heart. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong...

  Emma's eyes focused when she felt Susanna shaking her and calling her name, "Emma, what's wrong?" Susanna wore a frown and her forehead wrinkled in concern. "You looked so strange for a minute." The sun was shining as brightly as ever. "I feared that something terrible might happen. Are you listening to me, Emma? What did you see? Emma!"

  Emma had known that something wasn't right, as if the fog in her mind suggested things that eluded recognition but made her uneasy nevertheless. In an instant she blurted out,

  "But...", unsure whom she was really telling—herself, Susanna, or someone else, "My name isn't Emma!" As she said it became a scream, and with each word she felt a growing dread that something horrible would happen if she continued, yet she felt the force of the words like an overpowering tide. Her heart thudded with terror as a thousand eerie shrieks pierced her ears and the serenity of the beach faded into darkness. The ground gave away beneath her feet and she fell, flailing her arms in search of something to grasp hold of. But there was nothing.

  Still the echo of her own voice resounded endlessly.

  "But I'm not Emma!..."

  Finally she landed on something cold and hard. Opening her eyes, she found herself on the wooden pier near the lighthouse. The whole town seemed deserted, for there was no light except the moon's reflection on the sea. It dimmed as an unsettling fog rolled ashore seemingly from nowhere. The lighthouse poured forth a beacon of hope to sea travelers, and Emma turned her head around to glance at the town clock, realizing in a split-second that she had heard it chime twelve on another fateful night. As if recognized from a dream, she wasn't surprised to see the shadow lurking beneath it.

  Everywhere she ran, the town remained deadly silent, and when she thought that she could make out a sound, she discovered that it was merely the thumping of her own feet on the wooden planks. With a premonitory shudder, she realized that she knew what was about to happen to her. An image of Susanna dressed in black drifted across her mind and brought scared tears to her eyes.

 

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