Miracle

by Kimberly Shursen

  Faith smiled. “I know.”

  Mira hoped she could stay a long, long time here with Faith before she had to go home.

  When a small house came into view, Mira said, “Hey, this house is like the one in—”

  “Hansel and Gretel,” Faith finished. “That story your daddy reads to you.”

  “You can hear what Daddy reads me?”

  “Every night. But maybe that’s what friends can do. They just know what the other one’s doin’ and thinkin'.” She looked at Mira. “I don’t know ‘cause you’re the only friend I have.”

  Mira felt Faith’s sadness. It must be hard to be all alone. “I’ll always be your friend, and I’ll come see you whenever you want.”

  “You will?” Faith asked. “Promise?”

  Mira crossed her heart. “Promise.” She turned, and tracked the deep green ivy that up the sides on the house to the A-framed thatched roof with her eyes. The small house was painted the same color yellow as Mira’s house and had white shutters, too. Mira pointed up at the chimney. “You have a fireplace like me too!”

  “And all the candy you like is inside. Like gummy bears and M&M’s and lots of stuff.”

  Looking around the side of the house, Mira thought she spotted a cornstalk. “You have corn?”

  “Uh-huh, and I got a big tricycle like your daddy’s. Same color and everything.”

  Mira’s stomach did a somersault. “Is my daddy here too?”

  “No, but I can hear him coming out of those really, really tall stalks of corn when you do.” Faith put her hand over her stomach. “And when he takes you for rides, my tummy goes wheeeee.”

  Mira covered her mouth and laughed. “That’s funny.”

  Faith nodded back at the ocean. “How ’bout we build a castle together.”

  “Let’s race.” Mira felt so lucky to have a friend that liked everything she did.

  Running together back down the winding dirt path and around the trees, they reached the edge of the sand at the same time. “Tie!” Mira shouted and let out her breath.

  After they plopped down beside a few colorful plastic pails, Mira picked up a shovel. “I wish I could just think about somethin’ and then it would just show up like you can.” Mira dumped out a mound of sand and started to pat the sides. “Hey, if you can bring me here, maybe Mommy and Daddy could come sometime, too. I want them to see the ocean. And your house and—”

  “I wish they could,” Faith interrupted.

  “Where’s your Mommy?”

  Faith put her shovel down. She looked like she was about to cry, her bottom lip quivering. “I can’t find them.”

  “But everyone has a mommy and daddy. Maybe we can look for them together.”

  Faith’s face lit up. “That would be fun.”

  “Mommy says you’re not real.” Mira put her hands behind her in the sane. She leaned back.

  “I know. She says I’m pretend.”

  “But you’re not pretend, right?” Mira asked.

  Faith shook her head. “Nuh-uh.”

  “How come you said you don’t wanna be dead no more?” Mira asked. “And if you’re dead how come I can see you? I can’t see Grandma and Grandpa ‘cause they’re in heaven, but I can see you.”

  “I don’t know.” Faith stood and brushed the sand off her hands. “I just know I’m here and not where you live.”

  “I got an idea.” Mira jumped up. “How ’bout you come to my birthday party? So my mommy can see you and know you’re real.”

  “I tried to come to your house, but I can’t get there.”

  “Why?” Mira asked.

  “I don’t know. Just can’t. But I’m going to keep trying.”

  When Mira spotted something a few feet away, she walked toward it. “Hey,” she leaned over and picked up the baby doll just like the one she’d asked Mommy to get her for her birthday. “Where’d this come from?” She laid the dark-haired, dark-skinned doll back in her arms, watching her eyes close. “She can open and close her eyes and—”

  “And she cries Mama when you pick her up!” Faith said, standing beside her. “I love her.”

  Suddenly, Mira was angry. “No fair. It’s my doll.” She pulled the doll tight to her chest.

  “No! Mine!” Faith’s eyes narrowed, staring Mira down. She grabbed the doll’s legs and began to yank. “Give her back!”

  Mira held the doll’s head tight and tugged. “She’s mine.”

  Pulling the doll in opposite directions, they screamed at the top of their lungs, both fighting for control.

  The angrier they got, the darker the skies became. Suddenly the balloons disappeared, the birds stopped singing, and the waves grew higher, slapping angrily at the shoreline.

  “Stop!” Mira cried.

  “Give her back!” Faith countered.

  Tears of anger flooded their faces.

  “Mira, wake up,” Mira heard.

  Suddenly, Mira found herself inside the tunnel, a strong wind whisking her back down the tube.

  “Noooooo,” she cried as she was tossed and turned in every direction. When the doll flew out of her arms and disappeared, Mira tried to go after it, but the forceful wind held her back.

  “Mira!” a man’s voice said so loud that it hurt her ears.

  Her eyes popped open and Mira found herself back in her bed, her daddy leaning over her.

  “Honey.” Mommy put a hand on Mira’s forehead. “Did you have another dream?”

  “She…She has my doll.” Mira sobbed.

  “Who?” Daddy asked.

  “My friend.” Mira sniveled.

  “What doll?” Daddy asked.

  “The one I told Mommy I wanted for my birthday.

  Mira threw her arms around her Daddy’s neck. “She wouldn’t let me have her.”

  “What’s this?” Slowly, Mommy opened Mira’s closed fist.

  Mira looked down and saw the strands of black hair clutched in her hand. “I was trying to get the doll “way from her…” she managed between sobs. “But she…She wouldn’t let me have it.”

  Daddy picked her up and started to rock her, patting her back. “It’s okay sweetie,” he soothed.

  “Honey, does your friend have a name?” Mommy asked sitting down beside her.

  “Uh huh.”

  “What is it?” Mommy asked.

  Mira looked up into her Mommy’s eyes. “Faith.”

  Mommy had a funny look on her face and stared at Mira for a long time, and then looked to Daddy.

  Daddy was quiet for a while and then asked, “Where did you hear that name?”

  “I don’t know.” She started to cry again. “Daddy, I want my doll.”

  Mommy stood and went out of Mira’s room and Daddy lay down next to her and patted her back, telling Mira everything was okay. But it wasn’t okay. Mira was so mad at Faith; she didn’t know if she’d ever go back to see her again.

  When Mira woke, it was still dark. Hearing voices, she tiptoed out into the hall. Was Mommy crying?

  “Oh for crying out loud, Charlie.” Daddy sounded mad. “She had some doll’s hair in her hand, so what?”

  “I’ll tell you so what, Clint Abbott, Mira doesn’t have a doll with black hair. I’m taking her to a doctor, or psychiatrist, or something to get to the bottom of this.”

  “And he’s going to tell you why Mira just happened to have dolls’ hair in her hand?” Daddy laughed a strange laugh. “It probably came from Hank.”

  Mira went down to her hands and knees and crawled closer to the partially open door. Where was Mommy going to take her?

  “So do you want to be the one who tells her that she had a twin sister named Faith? And then break the news that she died three days after they were born?” Mommy sounded really upset.

  “Mira probably heard us talk about Faith and remembered the name,” Daddy said. “Let it go, Charlie. You let go of Faith once, now let her go again. Just because—”

  When Mira heard footsteps come closer, she scooted back int
o the wall. And when Daddy closed the door, all she could hear was mumblings.

  Mira crawled quietly back to her room. What was Mommy talking about? Did Mira have a sister? A twin named Faith? Mira had seen twins before that looked ’zactly alike, just like her and Faith.

  Confused, she sat down in the corner next to her dolls and picked up the baby doll she’d named Mandy. Holding her to her chest, Mira started to rock the doll, clutching her tighter and tighter. She had so many questions, but wasn’t gonna ask Mommy or Daddy ‘cause she didn’t want them to get mad at her.

  Mommy told her that when someone died, you don’t see them no more, you just remember them in your heart.

  Trembling, she tiptoed back to her bed, holding her doll.

  She wished she could ask Daddy how she could see Faith if she was dead?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “WHATEVER MIRA HAD IN HER HAND could have been anything.” Clint pulled on his boots at the back door.

  “Like what?” Charlie whirled around and faced him. “An SOS pad that just happened to find its way into her bed? Aren’t you just a little concerned that her new best friend’s name is Faith?”

  Clint was quiet.

  “Clint?” she asked folding her arms across her chest.

  “It’s odd, yes, but my feeling is that she overheard us talking about Faith and the name stuck in her head.”

  Charlie unfolded her arms and walked a few steps toward him. “Will you please agree that I can take Mira just to talk to someone?”

  His face turned crimson, his blue eyes darkened, staring daggers through her. “Damnit, I said no, Charlie. Mira is fine.” He opened the door. “You think this is Poltergeist? The Sixth Sense maybe? What the hell is the matter with you?” He slammed the door behind him.

  Charlie was livid. Biting her lower lip, she marched back to the sink, turned on the water, and added dish soap. Mindlessly watching the suds foam, she turned off the spigot and set the breakfast dishes down in the hot, frothy water.

  As she started to calm down, she wondered if maybe Clint was right. Maybe she was overreacting. She remembered her mother freaking out when Charlie got the slightest sunburn, warning her she’d get cancer or telling Charlie that her eyes would stay crossed if she kept making funny faces. Maybe there was a simpler explanation for why Mira had black nylon in her hand. But where in the hell had she heard the name Faith? There was no way she’d heard Charlie and Clint say her name. They’d been careful not to discuss anywhere near Mira.

  Remembering she hadn’t fed Hank, she went to the door and opened it. “Hank? Come on, boy,” Charlie called. “Time for breakfast.” She looked to the fields and saw there wasn’t a cornstalk moving, and the leaves on the trees were perfectly still. Dark clouds rolled rapidly through the sky. It was the perfect stage for a storm. Lord, she hoped not. The crops were doing well, and God knew they didn’t need another setback like they had two years ago when a tornado ruined almost a quarter of their yield.

  “Hank’s with me,” Mira said, coming around the corner of the house. Hank was lollygagging behind Mira, his pink tongue dangling, his long ears almost brushing the ground.

  Charlie walked down the steps. “I thought Daddy told me you were going with him this morning.”

  Mira shook her head. “I wanted to stay here.”

  Charlie sat down on the bottom step. Mira looked pale; as if overnight she’d lost her tan. Was she sick?

  Mira sat down next to Hank and started petting him. “I like dogs.”

  “I know,” Charlie said. “Especially Hank.”

  Mira looked up at her with a puzzled expression. “When did we get Hank?”

  “Huh?” Charlie stared down at Mira. “You don’t remember?”

  “Kinda.”

  Thinking Mira was teasing her, Charlie said, “You’re trying to pull one over on me, aren’t you, you little stinker.” She bent over, took hold of Mira’s chin, and gently tilted her face up so she could look into her eyes. “Mira?” Her eyes were cloudy and distant like her thoughts were a million miles away.

  A sadistic grin came over her face that sent chills down Charlie’s spine.

  “I’m not Mira, Charlie. I’m Faith.”

  “I’m telling you that she told me she was Faith,” Charlie told Clint again. Mira barely talked to her all day. Mid-afternoon Charlie had found Mira in her bedroom playing with her dolls. “Can I play, too?” Charlie had asked, but Mira told her to go away and leave her alone. Mira would have nothing to do with her.

  By the time Clint came in from the fields, Charlie was beside herself. She decided, however, to wait until after Mira went to bed to talk to him.

  In their bedroom, Clint took clean boxers from a dresser drawer. “I need a shower.”

  “I told you I need to talk to you.” She’d been scared to death that Mira was having some kind of a breakdown.

  “Can it wait because I really…”

  “No.” She pointed her finger at him. “It can’t wait.”

  Clint put a hand on the back of his neck, sat down on the edge of the bed, and let out a breath. “Fine. What’s going on?”

  Charlie paced to the window, telling herself to keep her temper in check, although his condescending tone infuriated her. She turned around and leaned back against the sill. “Mira told me today that she’s Faith,” she could barely get the words out without bursting into tears.

  “She actually said those words?”

  Charlie’s muscles tensed. “You think I’m lying?”

  He nodded at the closed bedroom door. “Jesus, keep it down.”

  Charlie tossed her arms up into the air. “I’m trying to talk to you about something important and you question me?”

  “Maybe she was teasing you. Just to see how you’d react.”

  “She wouldn’t have anything to do with me today.” She could no longer hold back tears. “Clint, I’m scared. I don’t know what to—”

  Charlie stopped when the phone rang and Clint jumped up to answer it.

  ”Hello?” A couple of seconds later, he asked, “What? I can hardly hear you over static.” Clint glanced out the window behind Charlie. “And it’s comin’ our way?”

  Charlie turned around and saw lightning sizzle through the skies.

  “Thanks.” He hung up. “Tornado’s headin’ straight for us. ” He marched to the door. “We need to head for the cellar. Mike said it’s a bad one.”

  “Oh God, my parents. I want to call and see if they heard the siren.” Charlie headed for the phone.

  “There isn’t time. They’ll be fine. Go get Mira.”

  Seeing the panic in his eyes, Charlie quickly went down the hall to Mira’s room. Clint was one of those people who went outside when a storm was coming just to watch the fireworks. But this time, she sensed his concern.

  “I’ll get the cellar door open,” Clint told her as he went down the stairs.

  When she leaned over and picked up a sleeping Mira, she started to fight Charlie.

  “Stop,” Mira shouted. “Leave me alone.”

  Starting down the hall, she held Mira tight. “We need to get to the cellar.”

  Mira kicked and twisted, her small fist hitting Charlie’s upper arm and chin. “I wanna sleep.”

  Even though Mira was just a little over forty pounds, it felt as if she weighed a ton. Charlie needed to get her to safety as the vicious Iowa tornadoes not only took crops and houses, but lives.

  Clint was waiting for her, holding the back door open. He took Mira from her.

  Following Clint down the steps, the dead silence suddenly turned to a raging wind. The trees started to bend and sway and leaves and small branches whipped past them.

  “You go down first,” Clint said when they reached the open cellar door.

  Trying to keep the hair out of her eyes so she could see where she was going, on the third step, Clint shouted over blustery wind, “Here.”

  Charlie turned and he handed Mira to her.

  “I don’t wan
na go down there,” Mira whined.

  “Go on down.” Clint shooed Charlie with his hand. “I’ll close the door behind me.”

  Charlie carefully went down the steps and into the underground shelter. Clint had lit a candle, but it was still dark and creepy, the musky odor made her stomach churn.

  “It’s okay, honey.” Charlie jiggled Mira in her arms. “We’re safe now.”

  As the deafening sound of the twister approached, Clint wrestled to close the door. As soon as he’d pull it down a few inches, the wind would whip it out of his hands.

  She set Mira down in the corner on a blanket she kept on the floor for times like this. Starting for him, she said, “I’ll help you.” She could barely hear her voice over the powerful gale.

  “No, stay down,” Clint ordered.

  “Just leave it and get down here.”

  Wiping his eyes, Clint finally gave up.

  But when Mira bolted past Clint and clamored up the stairs, Charlie shouted, “Grab her!” But Mira was too quick.

  “Hank!” Mira screamed. “Where’s Hank?”

  “Mira, stop,” Charlie cried out just as the cellar door ripped off its hinges.

  “Stay here.” Going after her, Clint shielded his face and took off.

  Scared for her family’s safety, Charlie started to crawl up the steps, spitting out granules of sand that flew out of Mira’s sandbox. She stuck her head out, briefly seeing a blur of white from Clint’s T-shirt that quickly disappeared. “Clint?” she called, squinting through the maze of dirt and rubbish. “Clint?” she tried again.

  Nothing.

  Her eyes skimmed the fields seeing the monster had arrived, the violent, rotating tail leaving a trail of destruction behind. Instinct told her to go after them, but the voice of reasoning argued that Clint would protect Mira.

  She crawled backward down into the dark hole and scooted her down the cement block wall. Her heart thumping in her chest, her hands clasped together tightly, she prayed that God would keep her family safe.

  As the ferocious storm rocked the ground, it seemed like minutes, not seconds, when the roar started to fade. As Charlie scrambled up to the opening, sheets of rain pounded down on her.

  When she stumbled, her knee smashed into the edge of a rotting step. Immediately, a sharp pain ripped through her knee cap, taking her breath away. “Oh God.”