FIRE 

By Tessa Harvey

    Dazed, Eleanor Smith sat at the table gazing at her small semi-circular cleaned space. A tiny kitten brushed her ankles. A small name tag read "Minnie." It licked at some of the dubious looking milk and purred.
    "Ma am," the young female police officer queried, "are you feeling alright?" "No, not really," she tried to smile, but couldn't. A tiny pool had joined the liquids on the floor - beer-smelling vomit.
    Eleanor had picked up the baby, laid him face down on her knees, and gently patted his back, keeping her legs out of the way.
    The little boy had sighed and vomited, and showed some signs of life. By the time the ambulance had arrived, the baby, the paramedics, father and male police officer had soon departed.
    She hoped the child would survive. All the time the paramedics had been assessing the baby, the father had kept up an endless litany of complaints against his wife, his children, the farm. He had been angry and accusatory. 
    "I'm going to clean up," Eleanor declared. "We can't leave all for the children, can we?"

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

FIRE  By Tessa Harvey     Bart slouched down to one of the fields. It needed plowing after the harvest, but everything seemed to take so much effort.      Leanne was being nice but feeling a little sick. Bart knew it was a lovely day. The hospital orderly who knew how to unlock hospital bathroom doors quickly from the outside had visited him and asked him to try every day to think of at least one reason to live. But Bart felt he was sinking deeper into quicksand.     "God help me!" he cried aloud. He did not know if there was a God, but suddenly it seemed like the black clouds in his head rolled back and there was light.     "Yoohoo!" called a woman's voice from near the paddock fence. "I've got Rabbi to pray for you. He's here now."     A tall, slightly stooped older man climbed through the fence. "Timothy," he said holding out his right hand, "I'm not really a rabbi. But could I be a friend and tell you too that there is a ...
Read more
FIRE  By Tessa Harvey     Timothy focussed on his visitor with an effort. He noticed it was a really beautiful day, blue sky, fluffy white clouds, sunshine. The wind was slightly chilly, a reminder of changing seasons.     "Please come in," he ventured, "my housekeeper could get us a drink and some biscuits." "That would be lovely. I'm Sally Elliott."\         "Timothy Winslow." He led the way to the kitchen. The window was open and he could smell the honeysuckle climbing up a wooden trellis near the back door.     An elderly lady came in, smiled and put the jug on. "What drink would you like?" she asked. "I am Kirsty."         Drinks and shortbread biscuits were placed on a nearby table . Kirsty closed the kitchen window and took her cup of tea and biscuits outside.     "The Roberts family could do with prayer help and I wonder if you could help Bart? He needs a friendly bloke. Can you help, rabbi...
Read more
FIRE  By Tessa Harvey     Bart came to and found himself lying in a high hospital bed. Something was very painful, tied high on his left arm. It was tight. It was dark, and then he remembered nothing for a while.     A male orderly was helping him bathe. His left hand would not work properly.     The staff in the ward treated him with disdain. Only after a few days was he sent to physiotherapist who got him to soak the hand in warm water and gave him exercises.     His wife Leanne visited. By now he was feeling very ashamed and asked about Joey, desperate to know if he had survived. Joey was home again, as was Leanne, but he had been a very sick little boy.     Humbly, Bart asked if he could go home. His wife hesitated. "it is only a trial leave for a few days. If you are not managing, you have to return. The doctors are concerned for our safety."     "Why?" Bart demanded, truculent once more. Leanne sighed and left.
Read more