Chapter 9. His heart thudding in his chest, Jonathan stumbled to the window

H is heart thudding in his chest, Jonathan stumbled to the window. The full moon shone on the wide rose trellis—still barren of roses—that climbed the back wall of the house to the second-floor windows.

He could see the backyard clearly—the woodpile, the new iron pump, the stone well, and the woods surrounding them.

What made that horrible sound? Jonathan asked himself, trembling all over. Was it only a dream? A strange wild animal? Or was it something more terrible still?

He pushed that idea from his mind. Rachel’s stories are giving me nightmares, he scolded himself.

Silence now. The only sounds were the chirping of crickets and the low hooting of an owl. Still shaken, Jonathan climbed back into bed.

He knew he would never get to sleep now. He lay awake all night, listening.

Hours later the sky began to lighten. Jonathan heard his mother pass his room on her way downstairs to begin the day’s chores. His father and sister were stirring, too.

Yawning and stretching, Jonathan climbed out of bed and sleepily made his way to the washstand. He splashed cold water on his face and ran a comb through his shoulder-length brown hair. After tying his hair back with a black cord, he slipped on his knee breeches.

In the kitchen Jane Fier was setting dishes on the table. “Good morning, Jonathan,” she said brightly. “Would you mind kindling the fire for me?”

Jonathan kissed his mother good morning and went to the hearth. He picked up the bellows and puffed air into the glowing embers left over from the night before.

Rachel skipped into the room in a brown dress and apron, her blond curls bouncing. Ezra followed close behind her. As he poked at the fire, Jonathan wondered whether any of them had heard the terrible cries that had awakened him in the night. Rachel appeared to be cheerful and well rested, but Ezra seemed tired.

“Run out to the well and get me a bucket of water, Rachel,” said Jane.

“Yes, Mama,” Rachel replied. She opened the back door and headed out to the well.

A moment later bloodcurdling cries from the backyard made Jonathan drop his fireplace poker. It clattered to the hearth floor as he turned to run outside. Jane and Ezra were right behind him.

Rachel stood by the well, screaming hysterically. Her hands, her face, her hair, her clothes were all splattered in red.

“Abigail—what is it?” cried Jane. “What has happened?”

Rachel ignored her mother. Her eyes fixed and staring, she pointed at the bucket she had pulled out of the well.

Peering into the bucket, Jonathan gagged.

It was filled with thick, red blood.

Дата добавления: 2015-07-20