Unbeknownst to Sarah, Richard Jones was performing one more act on his road
to redemption. He had left the running of his company to the many vice
presidents jumping at the chance to impress him, and had begun a sort of
babysitting. He spent his days watching over Toby. Sarah would have lost it
had she known how Richard spent his free time, which was why he took extra
lengths to avoid detection. He knew the routine she kept with her brother,
and so he matched himself to their schedule. He had also managed to acquire
such things as Sarah's cell phone number, should an emergency ever arise.
Knowing the boy had lived was the only saving grace he felt he had, and he
was determined that nothing else would ever harm young Toby.
Everything about their routine suggested a forced attempt at normalcy, which was expected. The only thing he found unusual about the two was the second watcher they had. Richard hadn't paid much attention to the large bird that often seemed to be in the same vicinity until he realized it was an owl. He would have shrugged it off, despite the fact that he knew owls were nocturnal, had it not been for the fact that it was obviously watching Sarah and her brother. Then, there was the creepy incident that happened about a week later.
Richard had watched Sarah drop Toby off at his friend's house, The Galways according to the mailbox. She had driven off, but the owl stayed behind. In a moment, though, it was back in flight, this time heading towards Richard's car. It screeched once and Richard, who had never seen an owl up close, let alone heard its battle cry, was startled half to death. But then the thing perched on his hood and stared at him through the windshield. It didn't break eye contact for at least five minutes, and Richard had the disturbing impression that he was being tested. Finally, as if it had found what it was looking for, the owl took off. He never saw the owl around Toby again, unless he was accompanied by his sister. That night, though, as he let himself be raked over the coals by Sarah, he had seen the owl perched in the maple tree that grew in the front yard.
While Richard was pouring his heart out to an unresponsive Sarah, Toby and David were getting bored with Bounderball. Mrs. Galway had set up a tent in the backyard and they were both tucked into their sleeping bags, taking turns playing with the flashlight.
"Toby, if you could wish for anything, what would it be?" David asked, not realizing the gravity of such a question.
Toby's breath hitched in his throat and for a moment he saw his parents, their faces illuminated by oncoming headlights. He shook his head clear of that image and answered, "Sarah says never to make wishes because they might come true, but not in the way you want."
"So wish for something nice," David shrugged, since he had only meant to wish for some more of those smores they'd had for dessert.
Toby closed his eyes and envisioned Sarah. He had always been able to pick up on her moods and when he focused, even if he was far away, he could connect with her in a way that defied his understanding at that age. Being six, he had no way of realizing the level of empathy he had with his sister. He trained his thoughts on Sarah and suddenly he saw her, as clearly as if she were on a movie screen. She was sitting on her bed in her favorite pajamas, and she was crying. The shock of seeing her in tears prompted him to blurt out,
"I wish Sarah had a grown-up friend to make her feel better."
There was no roll of thunder, the clouds didn't part in the night sky, the words just drifted off as if they'd never been said.
"Yeah, that's a good wish. I wish we could have some more smores," David mumbled before drifting off to sleep. Since no smores magically appeared in the tent, Toby rolled over in relief, imagining his own wish went unnoticed as well.
Everything about their routine suggested a forced attempt at normalcy, which was expected. The only thing he found unusual about the two was the second watcher they had. Richard hadn't paid much attention to the large bird that often seemed to be in the same vicinity until he realized it was an owl. He would have shrugged it off, despite the fact that he knew owls were nocturnal, had it not been for the fact that it was obviously watching Sarah and her brother. Then, there was the creepy incident that happened about a week later.
Richard had watched Sarah drop Toby off at his friend's house, The Galways according to the mailbox. She had driven off, but the owl stayed behind. In a moment, though, it was back in flight, this time heading towards Richard's car. It screeched once and Richard, who had never seen an owl up close, let alone heard its battle cry, was startled half to death. But then the thing perched on his hood and stared at him through the windshield. It didn't break eye contact for at least five minutes, and Richard had the disturbing impression that he was being tested. Finally, as if it had found what it was looking for, the owl took off. He never saw the owl around Toby again, unless he was accompanied by his sister. That night, though, as he let himself be raked over the coals by Sarah, he had seen the owl perched in the maple tree that grew in the front yard.
While Richard was pouring his heart out to an unresponsive Sarah, Toby and David were getting bored with Bounderball. Mrs. Galway had set up a tent in the backyard and they were both tucked into their sleeping bags, taking turns playing with the flashlight.
"Toby, if you could wish for anything, what would it be?" David asked, not realizing the gravity of such a question.
Toby's breath hitched in his throat and for a moment he saw his parents, their faces illuminated by oncoming headlights. He shook his head clear of that image and answered, "Sarah says never to make wishes because they might come true, but not in the way you want."
"So wish for something nice," David shrugged, since he had only meant to wish for some more of those smores they'd had for dessert.
Toby closed his eyes and envisioned Sarah. He had always been able to pick up on her moods and when he focused, even if he was far away, he could connect with her in a way that defied his understanding at that age. Being six, he had no way of realizing the level of empathy he had with his sister. He trained his thoughts on Sarah and suddenly he saw her, as clearly as if she were on a movie screen. She was sitting on her bed in her favorite pajamas, and she was crying. The shock of seeing her in tears prompted him to blurt out,
"I wish Sarah had a grown-up friend to make her feel better."
There was no roll of thunder, the clouds didn't part in the night sky, the words just drifted off as if they'd never been said.
"Yeah, that's a good wish. I wish we could have some more smores," David mumbled before drifting off to sleep. Since no smores magically appeared in the tent, Toby rolled over in relief, imagining his own wish went unnoticed as well.
