Chapter Four
Sarah shifted on the bed. Her protruding stomach made sleep of any kind nearly impossible. And it was so stuffy in here! She turned slowly, and tried to roll off the bed without waking Jonathan up. She went to the French doors and cracked them open. The October harvest moon shone like a baleful yellow eye in the heavens. Sarah stood for a moment, bathing in its brilliance, basking in a moon bath. She breathed deeply of the night air. She loved fall. The air smelt richly and earthily of dead leaves and grass. Sarah and Jonathan had moved into her parent's house when they had bought a new one, and she had never felt so at home. The baby moved within her, and Sarah smiled. She turned back to the bedroom, and lay down next to her husband, who shifted slightly in his sleep. Sarah brushed back his hair, and ran her fingers down his jaw line. Jonathan smiled in his sleep. Oh, how she loved him. She snuggled closer to him under the comforter and closed her eyes.
After waiting about half an hour and sensing no more movement, Jamie swung himself over the edge of the balcony where he had been clinging on a small ledge. He had seen Sarah open the doors from the lawn, and had waited, and then waited some more to make quite sure that everyone had retired for the evening. He made his way through the bedroom, keeping very quiet. Once he reached the top of the stairs, he paused, uncertain. Where would she put the book? He moved down the hall, then cautiously opened a door to his right, exploring.
He had entered the nursery. It was a haven awaiting its occupant. A carved wooden crib sat in one corner, and a wicker rocking chair was adjacent to it. Aside from a beautiful chest of drawers, there was no other furniture. But what really gave the room its flair was the artistry on the walls. Jamie moved closer and recognized Jonathan's fluid hand behind the paintings. There were sketches of forests and castles, rivers and seas. Maidens fair and wise kings were featured, as well as brave knights and colorful minstrels. It was exquisite.
Jamie noticed something in the crib. He reached in and picked it up. It was an old, ratty, moth-eaten teddy bear. It was Lancelot, he remembered him. It had had a permanent spot on Sarah's bed in college. He was really in bad shape; he should have been pitched ages ago. It had patches on its patches. Then Jamie looked closer. There was one patch that looked different than the others. It was large and square. He didn't remember Lancelot being so heavy....
He ripped the bear apart and there, at his feet, amongst cotton and stuffing, laid the book. Jamie picked it up, trembling. His hands shook as he caressed the cover. Oh God, finally, finally....
Sarah sat straight up in bed. She leaned over and shook Jonathan.
"Honey, wake up."
"Wah."
"Honey, wake up!" Jonathan came to life.
"What, is it time? It is, isn't it? Don't worry, we're gonna be fine, hang on, where are my pants."
"No, no, honey relax, it's not time yet. I heard something." Jonathan wilted.
"Is that what you woke me up for? Geez. What do you think you heard?" He sat on the edge of the bed. Sarah bristled.
"I didn't think I heard anything. I know I heard something."
"What did you hear?"
"I don't know. Some kind of a thump."
"Maybe it was Myrtle."
"It wasn't Myrtle. I know what the cat sounds like. It was something else."
"Look, Sarah, it's really late...."
"Jonathan. I'm worried. What if...." Jonathan sighed again, one of impatience this time.
"Look, Sarah, I'm sure everything is fine. I told you not to worry about it."
"I'm sorry. I'm worrying about it."
"Well don't. Nothing is going to happen tonight." Jonathan flopped back into bed beside Sarah and pulled up the covers.
"How can you be so sure? What if-"
"Sarah. I'm right here. Nothing is going to happen. Now please, try to get some rest." Sarah lay back down. But her eyes would not shut. She wanted to go and check out the thump, to assure herself that everything was all right, but she was afraid of what she might find. She snuggled closer to Jonathan, touching his hand, reassuring herself that he was near. Even after Jonathan's breathing became steadily regular and even, Sarah's still came in nervous silent intakes. She finally drifted in a half-sleep
Sarah shifted on the bed. Her protruding stomach made sleep of any kind nearly impossible. And it was so stuffy in here! She turned slowly, and tried to roll off the bed without waking Jonathan up. She went to the French doors and cracked them open. The October harvest moon shone like a baleful yellow eye in the heavens. Sarah stood for a moment, bathing in its brilliance, basking in a moon bath. She breathed deeply of the night air. She loved fall. The air smelt richly and earthily of dead leaves and grass. Sarah and Jonathan had moved into her parent's house when they had bought a new one, and she had never felt so at home. The baby moved within her, and Sarah smiled. She turned back to the bedroom, and lay down next to her husband, who shifted slightly in his sleep. Sarah brushed back his hair, and ran her fingers down his jaw line. Jonathan smiled in his sleep. Oh, how she loved him. She snuggled closer to him under the comforter and closed her eyes.
After waiting about half an hour and sensing no more movement, Jamie swung himself over the edge of the balcony where he had been clinging on a small ledge. He had seen Sarah open the doors from the lawn, and had waited, and then waited some more to make quite sure that everyone had retired for the evening. He made his way through the bedroom, keeping very quiet. Once he reached the top of the stairs, he paused, uncertain. Where would she put the book? He moved down the hall, then cautiously opened a door to his right, exploring.
He had entered the nursery. It was a haven awaiting its occupant. A carved wooden crib sat in one corner, and a wicker rocking chair was adjacent to it. Aside from a beautiful chest of drawers, there was no other furniture. But what really gave the room its flair was the artistry on the walls. Jamie moved closer and recognized Jonathan's fluid hand behind the paintings. There were sketches of forests and castles, rivers and seas. Maidens fair and wise kings were featured, as well as brave knights and colorful minstrels. It was exquisite.
Jamie noticed something in the crib. He reached in and picked it up. It was an old, ratty, moth-eaten teddy bear. It was Lancelot, he remembered him. It had had a permanent spot on Sarah's bed in college. He was really in bad shape; he should have been pitched ages ago. It had patches on its patches. Then Jamie looked closer. There was one patch that looked different than the others. It was large and square. He didn't remember Lancelot being so heavy....
He ripped the bear apart and there, at his feet, amongst cotton and stuffing, laid the book. Jamie picked it up, trembling. His hands shook as he caressed the cover. Oh God, finally, finally....
Sarah sat straight up in bed. She leaned over and shook Jonathan.
"Honey, wake up."
"Wah."
"Honey, wake up!" Jonathan came to life.
"What, is it time? It is, isn't it? Don't worry, we're gonna be fine, hang on, where are my pants."
"No, no, honey relax, it's not time yet. I heard something." Jonathan wilted.
"Is that what you woke me up for? Geez. What do you think you heard?" He sat on the edge of the bed. Sarah bristled.
"I didn't think I heard anything. I know I heard something."
"What did you hear?"
"I don't know. Some kind of a thump."
"Maybe it was Myrtle."
"It wasn't Myrtle. I know what the cat sounds like. It was something else."
"Look, Sarah, it's really late...."
"Jonathan. I'm worried. What if...." Jonathan sighed again, one of impatience this time.
"Look, Sarah, I'm sure everything is fine. I told you not to worry about it."
"I'm sorry. I'm worrying about it."
"Well don't. Nothing is going to happen tonight." Jonathan flopped back into bed beside Sarah and pulled up the covers.
"How can you be so sure? What if-"
"Sarah. I'm right here. Nothing is going to happen. Now please, try to get some rest." Sarah lay back down. But her eyes would not shut. She wanted to go and check out the thump, to assure herself that everything was all right, but she was afraid of what she might find. She snuggled closer to Jonathan, touching his hand, reassuring herself that he was near. Even after Jonathan's breathing became steadily regular and even, Sarah's still came in nervous silent intakes. She finally drifted in a half-sleep