A Promise

Once again it is Friday Morning. Hmm, I'm wondering if I should do a poll or something to see what day of the week my readers read this. That might be interesting. I know I get on here almost every Friday morning.:) But what about the rest of you?

I have done some writing this week. I finished another short (even though it was seven pages long) story finished, taught writing class and got an assignment posted for Scribblers. It has been rather a busy week. Mom, Sarah and I went to help price boxes and boxes of things for Jimmy on Monday. I priced 38 boxes of puzzles in one morning. Each box had 6 floor puzzles in it. You can do the math. (I only do math when I have to.) Today is going to be busy too. S & I will be cleaning part of the house, and then we have to move all of the things from the new room to other parts of the house because the guy is coming to hang sheet rock tomorrow! Then we have to go babysit tonight. On Monday Mom, Sarah and I will be heading up to KC to spend the week with Grandma. (Grandpa and my aunt will be going to visit my cousin in collage.) But don't worry, I will post something either on Friday morning as usual, or on Thursday evening.

But now I won't make you wait any longer. Here is this weeks story. Enjoy!

Characters: 2 adults -- not a couple
Word count: 1250 - 1500 (ended with 1,376)
Tense: 3rd
Special Instructions: Show don't tell

A Promise
by
Rebekah Morris

Mrs. Donald sat before the fire in her small but cozy front room. Her knitting needles clicked continuously as she rocked back and forth, back and forth. A steady rain fell outside and the occasional flash of jagged lightning was followed sooner or later by the rumble of thunder.

Mrs. Donald shook her gray head. “I don’t like it,” she murmured half aloud. “It just don’t seem right.” Looking up at the mantel she saw two faces looking down at her. Her needles stopped; even her rocking paused as she studied the two faces. “They looked so much alike an’ now they’re both gone from me,” she drew a deep breath. “My Jed and me would wander the mountainside hand in hand. Timothy was just a little fellow then, always tumblin’ down an’ gettin’ back up again. There weren’t much that could stop them two. Jed, well, the Good Lord gave him a long life by my side. But Timothy,” the voice trailed off as she gazed with tear dimmed eyes at the picture of a young captain in uniform. The figure was straight and handsome. His hat couldn’t hide the proud yet merry look in his eyes nor could the stiff collar quite dispose of the slight tip of the head which was a boyhood habit of the man. The photograph had caught a smile lurking around the corners of the mouth and Mrs. Donald looking at it, half expected to hear him say,
“Don’t worry, Mum, I’ll be comin’ home again. Ya know I promised Pa I’d look after you.”
She gave a sudden smile. “That boy. He never could keep a sober look.” She picked up her knitting once again and began to rock back and forth, back and forth.

When at last the storm ended, Mrs. Donald rose stiffly from her chair. A stream of sunlight came in through a crack in the curtains, and she gently pushed them aside.
There was a line of blue sky in the far distance and though the rain came lightly down still, the sun was pushing its way bravely through the clouds. Hastily she caught up her shawl and said aloud, “I’m going out to look for rainbows, Jed. I’ll be lookin’ for one for you too Timothy. After all, a promise is a promise.”

Her stout boots carried her swiftly away from the cabin. She held the old shawl over her head as she looked about. Eager glances were bestowed in every direction, but no where did she see a rainbow. At the base of a small hill her steps slowed. One hand pushed aside a straying lock of hair. This was the hill where her Jed would take her. This was also the hill on which Timothy had stood looking so smart and determined when he had made his promise to return. For an instant she paused. Could she bear to go up there? She used to go there and read Timothy’s letters. But could she, dare she go now? The telegram’s words flashed through her mind; “Killed in action. Killed in action.” Her feet began moving up the slope almost of their own accord. At the crest of the hill the sunshine suddenly burst forth, bathing the western slopes with light. Mrs. Donald caught her breath as a flash of brilliant color caused her to look up. There before her was the most brilliant rainbow she had ever beheld. Its colors glowed vividly against the darker clouds. And then, just to the side of it, a second one appeared.
“A double rainbow!” she breathed. “I haven’t seen a sight like this since, well, I don’t recall ever seein’ a double with colors as brilliant as these. Why that one goes straight to the ground!” For several minutes Mrs. Donald just gazed at the sight before her. Even after the glow of the colors had faded, she continued standing her thoughts busy.
“A double promise. My Timothy promised me he’d come home from the war an’ I promised him I’d wait for him. Dear Lord, I don’t know how he’s to keep his promise since You called him home, but I reckon maybe it’s the other way ‘round. He’s goin’ to be waitin’ for me to come to him an’ to my Jed. Then I’ll be content. I don’t rightly understand, but I know you meant promises to be kept.” A deep sigh seemed to come from her very soul as slowly she turned away back toward her solitary cabin.

“I’ll be comin’ back, Mum, don’t you worry. Just wait for me. I’ll return. Dearest Mum, didn’t I promise Pa I’d look after you? We Donalds keep our promises.” The words, aye, and the very tone of that dearly loved voice seemed to sound in her ears as she neared the cabin.
“Mum!”
She shook her head, her eyes nearly blinded by tears that would come in spite of herself. She must stop this imagining. Her Jed was gone. Her Timothy was gone. She would go to them, but they would not come to her.

“Mum!” Suddenly she felt herself being swept off her feet and held close in an embrace while kisses were being showered over her face. When at last her feet returned to earth she found herself gazing into the face of Timothy!
“But,” she gasped out half in fright, “you’re dead!”
A hearty laugh rang out over the still mountainside followed almost at once by a sigh. “Oh, not you too, Mum.” His arm was around her, and she was being led inside to her rocking chair. “I’ve been told that so many times that I’m getting tired of it. Why the Major kept almost insisting that I was dead. It was difficult to convince him for a time. I don’t know who he thought I was. ‘Captain Donald is dead. He was killed in action at Marne. I saw it with my own eyes.’ That is what he kept tellin’ me.”
Mrs. Donald stared at the young man who had seated himself astride a chair in the old way and leaned his arms across the back of it. “What did you tell him?”
“Tell him?” A chuckle interrupted his speech. “I told him I didn’t feel dead, not one bit of it. ‘If I’m supposed to be dead, Sir,’ I told him. ‘You forgot to inform me.’ An’ he just stared. Why Mum, it took a good three quarters of an hour to convince the Colonel, and the two Lieutenants who came in, and the Major that I was alive.”

Mrs. Donald listened as Timothy told her all about the trouble of convincing everyone he saw that he was alive. Even the men in his unit were skeptical. At last she managed to say,
“I suppose you’re hungry, Timothy.”
“Hungry, Mum? I’m just about starved for your cookin’.” And he sprang to his feet to offer his arm to his mother.

It was later, after they had eaten and Timothy had told of his experience as a prisoner of war and his escape and return to his lines that Mrs. Donald said, reaching across the table to place her worn hand over her son’s hard calloused one, “I went out this evenin’ after the storm to hunt for rainbows, just like your Pa and me used to do,” she paused and gazed into the deep dark eyes before her. “An’ I saw a double rainbow; the biggest and brightest I’ve ever seen.”
Timothy nodded. “I saw them too, Mum and wondered if you were watching them.”
“A rainbow is the sign of promise, Son, an’ a double rainbow, well--”
“Means a double promise, Mum,” Timothy smiled gently. “Your promise and mine.”
“They’ve both been kept now, an’ I reckon we ought to get on our knees an’ thank the Good Lord for lettin’ us keep them.”
Timothy rose soberly. “You’re right, Mum. Pa always said a promise was a sacred thing, and I know it was only by God’s goodness that I kept mine to you.” There were tears in both the mother’s and son’s eyes as they knelt together in the front room with the picture of “My Jed” smiling down on them from the mantel.