CHAPTER 12 – FOUNDERS DAY
When Elizabeth woke up, she shivered in the cool morning air and lazily kept her eyes shut a bit longer. When she finally opened them, the sunlight was streaming in the window promising to be a warmer day. She turned over and looked at the other side of the bed. Jack's side.
It was empty.
Moving her body into a sitting position, her emotions were a mixture of slight worry and a denial that she should be worried. She stared at his pillow for some evidence of her husband.
His feather-filled pillow was slightly sunken in but she couldn't be sure if that was because of the weight of his invisible head or just the way the pillow was shaped.
He's still too tired to show himself, she thought in surprise. We slept for hours. I thought that would be enough to renew his strength.
Oh God, maybe he ran out of visibility for good! she panicked before realizing that was absurd. There was no reason for him to disappear permanently.
He'll get his strength back after another good rest, she reasoned.
I'll still be able to feel him until then, she told herself optimistically.
I can still feel him, CAN'T I?
"Jack?" she said softly but she didn't get a response.
"Jack?" she repeated.
Silence filled the air.
Hesitantly, Elizabeth reached out her hand and waved it in the air over the mattress and pillow in an effort to touch him.
She felt nothing.
I killed him! All that kissing yesterday killed him!
I killed my husband who was already supposedly killed!
How bad can my luck be?!
NO! she thought in a desperation. He's GOT to still be here. He just has to be.
She wildly waved her hands some more in the air just above the mattress and pillow. When she still felt nothing, she began smacking the mattress.
"Jack! Jack!" she called out with each smack. "Jack!"
"Hey, sleepy head. What are you doing?"
Elizabeth jerked her head to the side.
Jack was standing in the doorway, looking at her curiously.
"I was . . .looking for you."
"By beating the mattress? Remind me to never get on your bad side," he chuckled.
"I thought I had killed you," she said apologetically as she breathed a sigh of relief at seeing him.
"By smacking me?"
Elizabeth shook her head. "By kissing you."
Jack gave her another curious look. "You weren't kissing me. I've been down in the kitchen. Did you think you were kissing me? Because that's kind of weird."
"I didn't think I was kissing you now!" Elizabeth protested. "I meant I was kissing you last night. I thought I killed you by kissing you so much." She gave an embarrassed shrug.
"Okay", Jack said hesitantly as he tried not to laugh. "I'm not exactly sure why your kisses would be deadly. But what does that have to do with you smacking the bed?"
"I was trying to feel you."
"Since when did we get into smacking to feel each other? Because I'm not going to smack you. Ever. And to tell you the truth, I don't want you to smack me either."
"We're not into smacking – " she tried to explain but he interrupted.
"Seems kind out of character for us. I prefer the way we usually touch each other," he said with a twinkle in his eyes as he leaned casually against the door frame which miraculously seemed to support him. "You know, the soft sensual touch."
"I thought you might be asleep", she admitted and then shyly smiled at the way his words made her feel warm and tingly inside.
"That's how you'd wake me up?" he asked with a laugh.
"I didn't know if you were there or not! Stop teasing me! You had me worried," she wailed and then gave him a questioning look. "Why were you in the kitchen?"
"I was trying to see if I could make some coffee for you"
"Any luck?"
"Sorry. My hand just went through the pot. I might, however, be able to touch you," he said with a smile.
He walked across the room and leaned over the bed.
Elizabeth remained absolutely still and anticipated his touch.
And then she felt them. His lips. On hers.
"Success," Jack said happily.
"I think that means I love you more than coffee," he murmured deliciously in her ear before backing up.
Elizabeth scooted over on the mattress and lifted back the white coverlet. "Come back to bed."
"I'd love to, but you're going to be late."
Elizabeth didn't have a chance to ask Jack about how he planned to become whole again – more solid than his ghostly form -, and she didn't want to criticize him for falling asleep on her last night while she had intended a more romantic night in bed.
Men can be so sensitive. Even ghostly ones. Best not to mention that I was expecting a bit more last night, she decided.
In yesterday's preoccupation over Jack, the crowded coal mine, and Jack's incredible kisses, Elizabeth had forgotten that today was the town's Founder's Day picnic. It wouldn't be important to her except that she, as the town's school teacher, was in charge of a large part of the activities.
When Jack had reminded her of the planned events for the day, she had hurried out of bed and quickly gotten dressed.
"Don't hit me", Elizabeth yelled at one of her students who was coming dangerously close to assaulting her with a baseball.
"Sorry, Mrs. Thornton!"
Elizabeth pulled her body back to avoid being injured by the flying round object and then side-stepped a small pile of horse manure.
She was juggling a tray of eggs in one hand and had a handful of spoons in the other when she faltered slightly. As she steadied the eggs, she noticed a drop of green paint from an earlier project had splattered onto her pretty white blouse.
Why am I a teacher, she muttered to herself.
"Florence!" she called out. "Can you take this over to the group over there?" Elizabeth nodded in the direction of ten boys and girls waiting to start an egg race. "I've got to make sure the treasure hunt is ready."
"I'll handle the treasure hunt, Elizabeth," Abigail said as she walked over with Florence. "Why don't you go inside the school house and sit for a while? You've been running around for hours."
"Thank you," Elizabeth answered appreciatively. She unloaded the eggs and spoons into Florence's hands, handed a piece of paper with a list of "treasures" to Abigail, and wiped away a film of sweat on her forehead. "It's a bit hotter than I thought it would be today. I am a bit tired. Lunch is in twenty minutes. I'll just check on the food inside."
An hour later, Elizabeth set the remaining bite of her sandwich on the napkin on her lap and chuckled softly as Madge - a mother of three - told the small crowd of women a story about darning her husband's socks while her two-year-old daughter had run around yelling "darn" at the top of her lungs.
The women were sitting in the school house pews or standing nearby enjoying the relative calm after lunch in the otherwise hectic day.
Every once in a while, a child would run inside the building, grab a cookie or quick drink of lemonade from the refreshment table, and race down the steps again.
Elizabeth glanced at the long table which was covered in barren platters and near-empty bowls. The tablecloth under the dishes was splattered with bits of potato salad, egg salad, and she noticed that it was now stained with dark blobs from a blueberry pie. Elizabeth decided not to let it bother her even though the tablecloth, one of hers from Hamilton, would probably never be pristine white again.
The egg race was over, but the treasure hunt was still in play, jump ropes were cutting through the air outside to the rhythm of children chanting, and another impromptu game of baseball had begun.
The talk of mending socks caused Dottie, half owner of the town's sole dress shop, and Rosemary, the other half owner of the dress shop, to turn the conversation to new styles and fabrics.
"Elizabeth, whenever the time is right, you just let me know and I'll start sewing up the prettiest blouses for you," Rosemary said with a glance towards Elizabeth's still flat stomach.
"Thank you, but I think it will be a few more months."
Rosemary scrutinized Elizabeth's figure. "Maybe. Maybe not. You did eat three sandwiches just now", she replied knowingly and then gave Elizabeth a smile which seemed to indicate that she found Elizabeth's newly acquired appetite to be unladylike.
Elizabeth refused to be chastised by her well-meaning friend and instead rolled her eyes. "Thank you for counting for me."
Before she could give a further response, Elizabeth was interrupted.
"Elizabeth", Jack said slightly breathless as he appeared at her side. Which would be unusual enough on its own except it was made even more unusual because part of him was standing in the same spot which Dottie was occupying.
A startled Elizabeth almost spilled her glass of lemonade.
"You've got to come quick!"
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at Jack and crinkled her nose. Clearly, she couldn't just jump up and follow him somewhere just because he suddenly showed up wanting an impromptu make-out session or to discuss that he figured out how to make a pot of coffee.
What does he expect me to do? Say I have to run off to the outhouse to pee, she thought in bewilderment.
Oh, wait, that would be a logical excuse to get up and leave.
Without waiting for a response, Jack spoke again.
"The Snyder boy, Watson, he's gone into the pond," Jack said hurriedly. "He had a butterfly net and was trying to catch something. I yelled at him, but he didn't hear me."
"So?" a confused Elizabeth asked aloud, momentarily forgetting to hide her conversation with Jack as she wondered if the five-year old was trying to catch frogs.
"Of course, we sew", Dottie replied dismissively in Elizabeth's direction as she continued to talk with the other women about the dress shop.
"He's struggling," Jack declared. He furrowed his brow in concern.
"Struggling?"
Dottie, who was still occupying the same space as Jack, stopped talking at Elizabeth's question and the women all looked inquisitively at her.
"No, we're not struggling financially," Dottie said with a frown. "Why would you say that? Did someone say we were struggling?"
A worried Jack ignored Dottie and focused his gaze on Elizabeth. "He can't swim! I can't pull him out. I tried but I can't feel him. I think he's drowning."
"Drowning?!" Elizabeth dropped her glass on the nearby table and jumped to her feet.
"We are NOT drowning," Rosemary said adamantly. "Yes, we've got some debts. But that's to be expected when you open a business. But we are certainly not drowning in debt!"
"Are you sure?!" Elizabeth asked frantically.
"Of course, I'm sure. Lee's not the only one with a good business- sense. Why, if you ask me –"
"I didn't stay to watch! You've got to hurry!" Jack said over Rosemary's whining voice.
Elizabeth pushed past the women and rushed towards the door. "Watson's drowning in the pond!"
"Hurry!" Jack yelled anxiously.
Her skirt felt heavy as Elizabeth, leaving the startled women to stare after her, ran down the steps towards the large pond where Jack had seen her young student.
She looked over her shoulder in the direction of the men who were playing more than a hundred feet away from the school house in an effort to keep a wayward baseball from hitting a window.
"THE POND!" she managed to yell out as she didn't stop moving but ran in the opposite direction towards the body of water.
"Where is he?!" an out-of-breath Elizabeth gasped to Jack when she didn't see the small boy.
"On the far side! Behind the cattails!"
By the time the baseball players, rope jumpers, treasure hunters, and other assortment of individuals comprehended that something was wrong, Elizabeth had already entered the murky water. Splashing frantically as she moved, she had no regard for the waterfowl and lily pads which she was disturbing.
"Watson, where are you?!" she desperately called out as the weight of her long wet skirt caused her to move slower than she would like.
"Over here!" Jack called out. He had disappeared from her side and was now waving to her from thirty feet away.
As she got closer, the splashing sound coming from behind the five-foot tall slender stalks let her know Watson was still struggling.
The water was past her waist when out of the corner of her eye, Elizabeth saw Bill Avery overtaking her. His long legs raising up high in an awkward gait as he raced through the water sending splatters of it in her direction.
Four seconds later, the man was holding the small boy, who was coughing and looking panicked.
"Are you okay?" Jack asked.
Elizabeth held her side and bent over slightly as she stood on the edge of the pond away from the large crowd that was now hovering over Watson. The boy's frantic father who had been a few seconds slower than Bill was now gently hitting the boy on his back to help him cough up more water.
"I'm fine," she replied with a gulp of air as her worried husband looked at her.
"You're holding your side"
"Stich", she gasped. "It hurts."
"Is it the baby?"
"Not unless he or she is made of whalebone."
"Whalebone?" a perplexed Jack crinkled his brows.
"It's my corset, not the baby that's bothering me," Elizabeth explained as she took a deep breath and winced. "This thing has got to go."
Someone brought Elizabeth a glass of water and she sat on the school house steps to calm down.
The area was a buzz of activity as parents counted their children to make sure no one else had wandered into a predicament, adults and children huddled around Watson, with the adults breathing sighs of relief and the children excitedly whispering about whether they could swim and what could have happened to five-year-old Watson, and Abigail hovered over Elizabeth.
Carson, with his stethoscope earpieces firmly in place, held the device's resonator on the small boy's chest and ordered him to take deep breaths.
Elizabeth barely paid attention to the conversations around her and had to be asked twice before she realized Abigail was asking her a question.
"How ever did you know, Elizabeth?"
"How?" she said hesitantly
"Yes, how did you know?" Mrs. Bladstone, the blacksmith's wife, asked curiously. "No one else noticed."
"Didn't they?" Elizabeth suggested feebly.
"No. They didn't."
"I'd like to know that too," Rosemary noted with a nod. "We were all inside together. How could you possibly know that adorable little boy was drowning?"
"I saw him through the window," Elizabeth lied.
Dottie glanced around. "I don't see how that's possible. You were sitting in one of the pews on the far side of the building."
Why does this feel like the beginning of the Spanish Inquisition?!
Or when Galileo was on trial for saying that the sun was the center of the universe. Stupid. He should just have kept his mouth shut.
Elizabeth looked to Jack for help but he giving her an appraising look. As if he was considering what to do about her appearance. Elizabeth couldn't blame him if he was disgusted with her. Her skirt was filthy wet, her blouse was wet in splotches, and she had bits of algae clinging to the fabrics.
"I meant I saw him through the window when I was getting my food. So, I knew he was heading in the direction," Elizabeth replied. "I really should get out of my wet clothes," she added quickly to put an end to the discussion.
"That was my thought exactly," Jack said with a pensive voice. "In fact, I was just thinking about how to get you out of those clothes. And out of that whalebone corset you mentioned. I was trying to decide if I should take off your blouse first -with my teeth, or maybe start by lowering your skirt over your sexy knickers."
Elizabeth sputtered in her water.
"Are you okay?" Abigail asked.
Elizabeth nodded and felt herself blush. "I'm fine. Just drank too fast."
"How did you know he was in trouble?" Florence asked. "You couldn't have seen him go into the pond."
"I uh. Well, I uh," Elizabeth stuttered.
Jack had moved to the step behind her and was trailing a finger along her back. "I love your back. I love it even better when you're naked. I most definitely think I'd like to see you naked in the next ten minutes."
Abigail frowned when she saw Elizabeth shiver. "Are you cold? Hickam", she called out as she turned to the lumber mill's pasty-skinned and hapless employee who had just tripped over a rock, "Can you bring Elizabeth that picnic blanket?"
"I'm fine. I just should get going home!" Elizabeth squealed out the last word as Jack, who had moved in front of her, ran a hand along her skirt coming dangerously close to the area below her waist.
Elizabeth jumped up. "I'm just going to hurry home now. If you ladies could clean up, I would really appreciate it."
"But I still don't understand how –" Florence began to ask but Elizabeth was already hurrying off.
The women watched her quickly move away.
"That's odd. Do you think she has a tadpole or some guppies in her clothes?" Dottie asked as Elizabeth jerked her body away from Jack who had grabbed her derriere. "Look how she's twitching about."
"Poor dear. She probably overly excited by everything."
"It's been a long day for her. I suspect that she just needs to go to bed for a while."
Up Next: Chapter 13.
Dear MaryMary, I put a special line in just for you. Hope you noticed it! :)
