Anne of Ingleside - L. M. Montgomery [22]
The boys went, after pretending to smother Walter with a towel. After all, they rather liked the kid. Walter caught Opal’s hand as she turned away.
‘Opal, it isn’t true mother’s sick, is it?’ he whispered imploringly. He could not face being left alone with his fear.
Opal was ‘not a bad-hearted child’, as Mrs Parker said, but she could not resist the thrill one got out of telling bad news.
‘She is sick. Aunt Jen says so… she said I wasn’t to tell you. But I think you ought to know. Maybe she has a cancer.’
‘Does everybody have to die, Opal?’ This was a new and dreadful idea to Walter, who had never thought about death before.
‘Of course, silly. Only they don’t die really… they go to heaven,’ said Opal cheerfully.
‘Not all of them,’ said Andy, who was listening outside the door, in a pig’s whisper.
‘Is… is heaven farther away than Charlottetown?’ asked Walter.
Opal shrilled with laughter.
‘Well, you are queer! Heaven’s millions of miles away. But I’ll tell you what to do. You pray. Praying’s good. I lost a dime once and I prayed and I found a quarter. That’s how I know.’
‘Opal Johnson, did you hear what I said? And put out that candle in Walter’s room. I’m afraid of fire,’ called Mrs Parker from her room. ‘He should have been asleep long ago.’
Opal blew out the candle and flew. Aunt Jen was easy-going, but when she did get riled! Andy stuck his head in at the door for a good night benediction.
‘Likely them birds in the wallpaper will come alive and pick your eyes out,’ he hissed.
After which everybody did really go to bed, feeling that it was the end of a perfect day and Walt Blythe wasn’t a bad little kid and they’d have some more fun teasing him tomorrow.
‘Dear little souls,’ thought Mrs Parker sentimentally.
An unwonted quiet descended upon the Parker house, and six miles away at Ingleside little Bertha Marilla Blythe was blinking round hazel eyes at the happy faces around her and the world into which she had been ushered on the coldest July night the Maritimes had experienced in eighty-seven years!
9
Walter, alone in the darkness, still found it impossible to sleep. He had never slept alone before in his short life. Always Jem or Ken near him, warm and comforting. The little room became dimly visible as the pale moonlight crept into it, but it was almost worse than darkness. A picture on the wall at the foot of his bed seemed to leer at him… pictures always looked so different by moonlight. You saw things in them you never suspected by day-light. The long lace curtains looked like tall thin women, one on each side of the window, weeping. There were noises about the house… creaks, sighs, whisperings. Suppose the birds in the wallpaper were coming to life and getting ready to pick out his eyes? A creepy fear suddenly possessed Walter… and then one great fear banished all the others. Mother was sick. He had to believe it since Opal had said it was true. Perhaps Mother was dying! Perhaps Mother was dead! There would be no mother to go home to. Walter saw Ingleside without Mother!
Suddenly Walter knew he could not bear it. He must go home. Right away at once. He must see Mother before she… she… died. This was what Aunt Mary Maria had meant. She had known Mother was going to die. It was no use to think of waking anyone and asking to be taken home. They wouldn’t take him… they would only laugh at him. It was an awful long road home, but he would walk all night.
Very quietly he slipped out of bed and put on his clothes. He took his shoes in his hand. He did not know where Mrs Parker had put his cap, but that did not matter. He must not make any noise… he must just escape and get to Mother. He was sorry he could not say good-bye to Alice… she would have understood. Through the dark hall… down the stairs… step by step… hold your breath… was there no end to the steps?… the very furniture was listening… oh, oh!
Walter had dropped one of his shoes! Down the stairs it clattered, bumping from step to step, shot across the hall and brought up against the front door with what seemed to Walter a deafening crash.