Cold (49 page)

“It’s well past your bedtime as it is,” Liesl said.

“But it’s still light out.”

“It’ll be dark soon.”

“How soon?”

“As soon as you close those pretty peepers, it’ll be dark and you’ll have the sweetest dreams,” Liesl said as she touched the girl’s hair.
 
“Now go help Del and I’ll be in soon to put you to bed.”

Lorraine stared at her a moment longer.
 
When she had first come to live with Liesl she was awakened by nightmares almost every night; but as the season changed they became less frequent.
 
Still, the idea of bedtime had become a difficult issue as the summer evenings lengthened.
 
Tonight the child was simply too tired to object.
 
She ran across the grass after Del and he took her hand just as they walked through the shed door.

Again a twig snapped in the woods and Liesl got up out of her canvas chair.
 
Though there was a cobalt blue sky overhead, stars were now visible and the woods were nearly dark.
 
She walked the length of the garden and stopped at the edge of the yard.
 
There was a rustling sound and she stepped in among the first trees.
 
She walked carefully, her arms raised to protect her face from branches.
 
Still she could hear a rustling perhaps ten yards ahead and there seemed now to be a charge to the air.
 
As she approached an evergreen bush she smelled a musky damp odor that was not unpleasant.
 
Leaning forward slightly, she brought her face right up to the evergreen, which contributed its own mint fragrance.
 
The rustling ceased and there followed an alert silence that was finally broken by a soft exhale.
 
Then, as footsteps faded away deeper into the trees, Liesl caught sight of a leg, a haunch, dark movement against the dark wood.
 
She held her breath until she was enveloped in complete stillness, a stillness she wished would never end.

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Books by John Smolens

The Anarchist

Cold

Invisible World

Fire Point

Winter by Degrees

Angel’s Head

My One and Only Bomb Shelter (stories)

Forthcoming in Fall, 2011

The Schoolmaster’s Daughter