Margaret sips on her hot coffee as the stillness of the quiet turns into rumbles of thunder across the dark Oregon sky. The stormy conditions wake a series of reflective thought.
Unclear at first, the evil happenings occur, moves in, and takes over while the children move away and the family pets disappear one-by-one. Solidarity wanes in the aftermath while the scream of addiction lashes out. Justice screams back for the idea that this could happen is undeniably forsaken, at least for a time. Darker than the darkness that surrounds it, it comes without warning.
Margaret seeks refuge for fear of peril and runs back to God. She leans to hope for a greater understanding of the meaning of life and the parallel relationship held with God’s word. In this, she gains understanding of the presence of an evil ever-waiting to rip the heart out of unsuspecting souls and crumble the foundation of a single life, or family.
Disenchanted, Margaret holds back the tears so not to cry. She tries to look for the good in everything, but most of all, she tries to be strong. Once shared pleasantries have turned into a recurring hysterical voice on the other end of the phone line and leaves her fraught with visions of clear and immediate danger. Try as she might, she cannot get a word in edgewise as the voice utters words of plight, cluttered with weeps and sniffles.
At once, panic arrives, trepidation looms. The thought of the news that her dear friend is dead from an overdose or has survived a brutal attack, but left maimed or unable to look in the mirror and see her radiant reflection wakes a sense of foreboding. Natural instinct wants to run and save her again, while the voice of reason deduces the risk.
2:00 a.m. and the season is winter. A bitter cold wind whistles at the windows in sync with the shadows that race along the ground. Are you to wake the children out of their comfort, bundle them up, and take them out into the cold of the night? Are you to seat the children in your car and drive on dangerous roads to probable detriment and place your children in harm’s way? No, she will not go, she cannot, not this time.
The call has ended. Arms crossed, Margaret now stands in solitude gazing out the kitchen window. The moon illuminates her face while tears stream down her senescent cheeks. She blinks.
