"Of course she has," said Walter. He had no idea what a constitution was, but if Mrs. Stephen Flagg had one Mother must.
"Mrs. Ab Sawyer died last week and Sam Clark's mother died the week before," said Andy.
"They died in the night," said Cora. "Mother says people mostly die in the night. I hope I won't. Fancy going to Heaven in your nightdress!”
"Children! Children! Get off to your beds," called Mrs. Parker.
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 laugher.
"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!
Chapter 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 daylight.
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 ... before 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.
Walter huddled in despair against the rail. EVERYBODY must have heard that noise ... they would come rushing out ... he wouldn't be let go home ... a sob of despair choked in his throat.
It seemed hours before he dared believe that nobody had wakened up ... before he dared resume his careful passage down the stairs.
But it was accomplished at last; he found his shoe and cautiously turned the handle of the front door ... doors were never locked at the Parker place. Mrs. Parker said they hadn't anything worth stealing except children and nobody wanted THEM.
Walter was out ... the door closed behind him. He slipped on his shoes and stole down the street: the house was on the edge of the village and he was soon on the open road. A moment of panic overwhelmed him. The fear of being caught and prevented was past and all his old fears of darkness and solitude returned. He had never been out ALONE in the night before. He was afraid of the WORLD. It was such a huge world and he was so terribly small in it. Even the cold raw wind that was coming up from the east seemed blowing in his face as if to push him back.
MOTHER WAS GOING TO DIE! Walter took a gulp and set his face towards home. On and on he went, fighting fear gallantly. It was moonlight but the moonlight let you SEE things ... and nothing looked familiar. Once when he had been out with Dad he had thought he had never seen anything so pretty as a moonlit road crossed by tree shadows. But now the shadows were so black and sharp they might fly up at you. The fields had put on a strangeness. The trees were no longer friendly. They seemed to be watching him ... crowding in before and behind him. Two blazing eyes looked out at him from the ditch and a black cat of unbelievable size ran across the road. WAS IT A CAT? Or ... ? The night was cold: he shivered in his thin blouse, but he would not mind the cold if he could only stop being afraid of everything ... of the shadows and the furtive sounds and the nameless things that might be prowling in the strips of woodland he passed through. He wondered what it would be like not to be afraid of anything ... like Jem.
"I'll ... I'll just pretend I'm not afraid," he said aloud ... and then shuddered with terror over the LOST sound of his own voice in the great night.
But he went on ... one had to go on when Mother was going to die.
Once he fell and bruised and skinned his knee badly on a stone.
Once he heard a buggy coming along behind him and hid behind a tree till it passed, terrified lest Dr. Parker had discovered he had gone and was coming after him. Once he stopped in sheer terror of something black and furry sitting on the side of the road. He could not pass it ... he could NOT ... but he did. It was a big black dog ... WAS it a dog? ... but he was past it. He dared not run lest it chase him. He stole a desperate glance over his shoulder ... it had got up and was loping away in the opposite direction. Walter put his little brown hand up to his face and found it wet with sweat.
A star fell in the sky before him, scattering sparks of flame.
Walter remembered hearing old Aunt Kitty say that when a star fell someone died. WAS IT MOTHER? He had just been feeling that his legs would not carry him another step, but at the thought he marched on again. He was so cold now that he had almost ceased to feel afraid. Would he never get home? It must be hours and hours since he had left Lowbridge.