When the Wind Blows - James Patterson [56]
“My name’s Frannie,” I began, trying to sound as nonthreatening as possible under the circumstances. “I’d like to be your friend. I want to help you. I’m sorry about what happened up on the mountain.”
The pounding stopped for a second, then it resumed again, even louder, wilder, and angrier.
“I’m real sorry about what happened back there, sweetheart. You’re safe here, even if it doesn’t seem like it. We had to catch you in order to help you. I don’t like holding you against your will.”
The kicking and pounding, and shrill, frustrated screams continued. I had no idea whether she understood a single word I’d said. It certainly didn’t seem like it.
I kept talking, anyway.
Talking very slowly, calmly, I told her that I was a veterinarian, a doctor who cared for animals, who cared about animals. It happened to be the truth, however self-serving, and that seemed like a good place to start with her.
“I wish I knew something about you,” I said. “Since I first saw you on the road that night, I’ve been worried about you. I’m pretty sure you’re hungry. Am I right? I wonder if there are people who love you and are looking for you right now….”
She was quiet for a moment. I breathed a sigh of relief. Had she finally understood?
Then the noisy commotion began again. She started kicking the walls, and I was afraid the place would fall apart. If I thought she’d been wild and crazy before, now she was really wound up. She let out a high-pitched shriek that could have shattered plate glass. What a syrinx she had.
I lowered my voice. I didn’t even know if she could hear me, but I started talking again. “Are you hungry?” I asked. “My friend is a very good cook and he’s making lunch. Spaghetti with tomato sauce. Do you like spaghetti?”
I stopped talking—held my breath.
Then I heard the distinct sound of sobbing. It was no longer hysterical screaming. It was more an exhausted crying, pitiful, and the sound was heartbreaking to me.
Did she understand? Sometimes she seemed to, but then I couldn’t tell. I really wanted to help her. Strange—I wanted her to like me, too.
I knew what I had to do next. I took a very deep breath, then I exhaled slowly. “I’m going to open the door. I promise I won’t hurt you. I promise, I promise…. Don’t hurt me, okay?”
I opened the door just a crack and peered in. The girl was hunched over in the bed against the wall. She looked wired, unbelievably tense, and maybe ready to spring at me. Oh Jesus! I had the thought that she was larger than some mountain cats.
Don’t be afraid of her, at least don’t show it.
I cautiously slipped inside the room. My legs were definitely a shaky and unreliable means of transportation. My mouth was dry.
Then I did the unthinkable—I closed the door behind me.
Frannie the Sap.
I squatted down so that I wasn’t standing over her. Animals feel less threatened with me that way. So what if I was completely open and vulnerable to an attack. I didn’t think she would go after me.
I saw tears sliding down both her cheeks. She looked just awful, incredibly sad, used up. She was sniffling and hiccuping and crying all at the same time. She seemed so human, and in so much pain. She was breaking my heart and I didn’t know how to help her.
Justalittle girl. All alone, obviously sad. What had happened to her?
“Aw, Jeez,” I said softly. “I wish I knew what to do for you, sweetheart. I’m really, really not going to hurt you. Neither is Kit.”
The girl wiped her face on her arm. The gesture was familiar and reassuring, very human and childlike. She was still staring at me. Her bright green eyes were intensely beautiful, brimming with tears.
Then she opened her small mouth. She looked like she was trying to communicate something. What was it?
“I’d like some spaghetti, please.”
Chapter 57
I’D LIKE SOME SPAGHETTI, PLEASE.
The little girl could talk.
Kit had to see this. Right now. I wanted him to see and hear her. Good God Almighty! I wanted the entire civilized world to hear this.
Just then Kit called out, “Frannie, soup’s on.”
I have no idea on earth what