Read Online Waiting for Harvey (The Spirits of Maine) by Lydia North, Kim Scott - Free Book Online Page A

face.  The unseen thing was only inches from me as I stood naked, pinned back against the cold, metal wall of the shower.  Frozen in terror, I remained after I felt it release me.
    As quickly as it had come it was gone.  I shivered, breathing heavily, and too frightened to step out of the stall.  My rational mind begged for reassurance that I had imagined it.  Desperately, I wanted to believe it was nothing more than my tired mind playing tricks.  At last I closed the shower curtain and turned the water on again.  I lingered there until the water ran cold.
    Rubbing vigorously with the towel, I couldn’t erase the goose bumps.  My thoughts were a jumbled mix.  It had spoken!  It had spoken aloud!  The OUIJA board wasn’t required for the thing to communicate.  It had spoken to me!  I knew I needed to get out of the cabin, and away from the woods.  No matter what the weather might bring, I would go in the morning.
    Warily, I strode out to the sitting area with a towel around my waist.  I dug through my bag for the last of my clean clothes.  With the fire blazing in the wood stove, I sat on the couch and opened a book.  I read and re-read the same page, trying to focus on it.  When I was too tired to keep my eyes open, I turned out the lights and moved slowly up the stairs to the loft.  I didn’t want to go up there but the thought of staying downstairs seemed worse
    In the dark corner of the bed, I huddled beneath the quilt with my back against the corner.  I begged sleep to take me away for the night; even a few hours would be appreciated.  I heard the first whispers somewhere inside the cabin and I cringed.  The wind was still and the sound was not easily dismissed.  My heart beat faster as the murmur drew closer.  I considered dropping to my knees on the floor and pleading with it to leave me alone. 
    The thing did nothing to relieve my sense of isolation.  I deeply regretted giving in to the rain and returning to the cabin.  A dull ache at the back of my head was spreading rapidly.  I needed to sleep.
    “I won’t go!” I shouted in desperation.
    The pressure in my head ceased.  The whispers ended.  A calm sensation replaced the tense feeling in the air.  It was what I wanted, but it still disturbed me when it happened so fast.  I burrowed deeper under the quilt and closed my eyes.  Sleep arrived to take me away for the night.  The nightmares I had expected were only dreams with happy memories of my childhood, my mother, and my brother.
     
    *
     
    I woke in the morning, thinking of John.  There was no good reason why he wouldn’t have returned days earlier.  There were too many bad reasons to contemplate, and it soured my mood.  If he couldn’t get back to me then I would have to go to him.  He might be in need of my help for the first time in our lives.  Better prepared, I would find my way back to civilization before the day ended.
    I pulled on my jeans and a sweatshirt then bounded down the stairs.  I threw two logs into the wood stove, closed the cast iron door and pushed the handle to latch it.  My stomach growled and I hurried down to the root cellar beneath the kitchen.  I looked through the cans, jars, bags and boxes stacked on the shelves.  There was a good variety, but little of it contained protein.  I was grateful that I would be leaving in less than an hour.  A thick cut steak and baked potato would make a great supper after I made my way out to the main road.
    Turning the handle of the can opener, I opened the can of tomato soup.  I poured it into a small pan and added water to it.  I missed having milk for my coffee, cereal, and for concentrated soup.  Watching the sun bloom behind the trees, I moved the coffee pot aside and warmed the soup.  It wasn’t a five star dish, but it was tasty enough. 
    In less than an hour, I was ready to go.  I carried in more fire wood and built a raging fire in the stove.  I carried up more goods from the root cellar