Part 9
A girl steps out into the court. She has her back to us and she’s warming her hands and arms on the fire, still burning steadily. She has her head down as if she’s deep in thought. She turns slowly and looks at us all. Each of us in turn. Her hair is red and seems afire with the light behind her. She has skin so smooth and creamy white it scarce seems real.
She smiles, a smile I never want to stop seeing. She’s a girl yet, but looks close to being a grown lady too.
“So, you want a story do you?” she says.
The bigger ones all say, “YES! A story, Mary, give us a story!”
Smaller ones are not so sure, and some of us kind of look to each other to see how others are feeling.
“Well I’ll give you a story, I will. But you’d best be knowing that it’s a dark, dark night. The moon is high and full. And this is the kind of night for stories that can chill your VERY BONES!!”
We look at each other, we small ones, I already feel chilled on this Fall night. I’m not so sure I shouldn’t be scooting further towards the porch and into the house.
Mary McGreggor asks, “Are you good children?”
She says, “If you try hard to be good children, then you have nothing to fear.”
I think about this. I think I’m good. But I’m not really trying so hard to be good. But I don’t know. Does that mean I have nothing to fear or not. And I’m cold. I’m really cold now; kind of shivering cold. But there’s no way I’m scooting towards that fire. What if she thinks I’m not good enough. What if she knows I’m not really trying that hard. What if I have to run for it.
I am scared, but this night is something special. I want to see what happens next and I do want to hear Mary McGreggor’s story too.
I decide I’m going to sneak closer to my house and get behind the bushes next to the porch. I can hide there and maybe it will be a little bit warmer, but I’ll still be able to hear and see.
I’m about to jump up and run for the bushes when some of the big girls appear with armloads of blankets.
Mary Mcgreggor says,
“Gather close children. Snuggle right up and squeeze in tight.”
My friend Johnny’s little sister Valerie comes running over from the yard next door and plops down right next to me. She scoots as close into me as she can and looks at me with her big dark eyes.
She watches Johnny and I play ball sometimes, sitting on her front steps with her elbows on her knobby scuffed knees, her hands under her chin.
I can’t leave now. If anything scary happens I need to be here to watch out for Valerie.
The big girls start covering little ones with blankets. A blanket is put over us. It smells musty and different from my blanket but I’m glad for it.
Mary says, “Now! Now are you ready to hear a tale sure to make you quake in your boots?”
Under the blanket Valerie puts her hand in mine and squeezes tight. She holds on for all she’s worth and I’m holding tight too. I feel achy inside. Like the world is close to swallowing me right up.
This place is where I belong. This is my yard. There is the pretty house I live in. There’s father in the house, he is big and wise. Mother’s inside and she keeps me warm and cares for me. Big sisters, big brother there too. I belong here in this place. This best place. I don’t know what’s next.
Scary things may come. . . . . . But I’m ready.
I’m ready for the story to unfold.
