It was dark, pitch black, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the faint moonlight. A cry escaped Kid's lips. He still had phantom pain from where her teeth had sunken into his neck.
His cry woke Sister Ruth, who had been sleeping beside him. He held a hand out to keep her from moving closer. "Please, we can find a cure. I don't want to drink blood."
"What are you talking about?" she murmured sleepily but alert enough to look at him like he was a madman.
He saw her Bible sitting where it always rested at night, beside the bed. It was her preferred bedtime reading and that seemed to bring him back to reality. He looked down at his own bedtime reading. Camilla was splayed across his chest.
"You had a nightmare, didn't you? I told you not to read that fool story. It's too gothic to read before bed, and I ain't sure you ought to be reading it at all. Any story that celebrates darkness a body needs to be wary of reading."
She had told him not to read it. More than once. "The sentiments of an uptight culture. It wasn't so bad really. There were some Christian themes in it you would've probably enjoyed. I think a gothic novel can make you appreciate the way things really are all the more. Make you more grateful that we have a Savior."
"Yeah, well, I can do that without reading about some girl sucking the life out of another girl. Think about this. Would you have read it out loud to Jesus if He were standing in the room?"
Kid colored in shame, glad Ruth wouldn't see it in the dark. There probably would have been some parts he might have skipped over. "I see your point, and don't worry. Next time I'm going to pick lighter reading material."
She chuckled and kissed his cheek. "Maybe you should try some Mother Goose. A little girl getting scared by a spider might be about all the fright you can handle."
"Or this Mother Goose rhyme:
THERE was a lady all skin and bone;
Sure such a lady was never known:
It happen'd upon a certain day,
This lady went to church to pray.
When she came to the church stile,
There she did rest a little while;
When she came to the churchyard,
There the bells so loud she heard.
When she came to the church door,
She stopt to rest a little more;
When she came the church within,
The parson pray'd 'gainst pride and sin.
On looking up, on looking down,
She saw a dead man on the ground;
And from his nose unto his chin,
The worms crawl'd out, the worms crawl'd in.
Then she unto the parson said,
Shall I be so when I am dead:
O yes ! O yes, the parson said,
You will be so when you are dead.
And that's where the person reciting the poem screams like they're being murdered."
"What in the world kind of Mother Goose rhyme is that?" she asked with her mouth a little wide at the the thought of children reciting such a macabre poem.
"It was a favorite among my brothers and sisters. We used to recite it often just for the joy of screaming. Momma let us do it without too much complaint cause she figured we were learning a good moral lesson to take stock of your life and get right with Jesus before you die."
"Well, maybe not Mother Goose then. But something else."
The End
