Background

Friday, February 7, 2014

Dr. Morgan - Part 16

Hello Friday Fiction Fans,
Winter greetings from the cold and snowy mid-west. It is certainly winter here. :) If it weren't so cold I'd be tempted to head outside just to enjoy the snow, not that our inch and a half is very much . . . Maybe I'll just stay inside after all.

I thought my week was going to be crazy, but with the snow and sleet and bitter cold, writing classes were cancelled, my grandparents didn't come down, my brother and his family didn't come over for supper Wed. and Thur. nights and I didn't go to a concert last night. What did I do instead? I wrote a short story that's about 3,600 words, worked on Travels of Priscilla, knitted, read, worked on other things and enjoyed staying home.

Last Saturday, S and I babysat the kiddos while J & M were at a political dinner. We knew they were going to be late, so I had brought some extra things to do. What do you do with old sheets or curtains and giant "tinker toys"? Well, we built a gold mine. :) They loved it! They had to crawl through the tunnel that even turned, climb up on the couch, go down the other side, up on the other couch and then out the other end of the tunnel, hunting for gold along the way. (The gold was yellow pieces of duplo.) They all enjoyed it. Even Little Guy crawled in and looked around him with interest. After the gold played out, we sat in a shaft and read "In Grandma's Attic" until the whole thing collapsed around us. :)

I'm still trying to work on writing TCR-3 and Dr. Morgan, but right now they're both slow! I'll keep working and you all can pray.

Since two of you requested I post Dr. Morgan, here it is. Enjoy!

Dr. Morgan - Part 16

    Limping into the front room, Amy sank onto the couch and looked about her. It was such a large, cheery room, yet there was a feeling of coziness about it too that was appealing on such a cold, snowy day.
    “Grandpa’s coming!” Danny’s excited voice at the window caused Amy to turn with a start. She saw Mr. Morgan and Adam coming towards the house carrying snow shovels. Upon noticing the two little faces pressed against the window, for Jenny had crawled over and pulled herself up beside Danny, the men stopped, waved and then Adam tossed a few lightly packed snowballs against the window causing a squeal of delight from Jenny and giggles from Danny.
    Suddenly Amy’s throat contracted and a rush of tears filled her eyes. A momentary picture had flashed through her mind but before she could quite recall it, it had vanished. She was silent as the two men entered the living room moments later.
    “Well, good morning Amy,” Mr. Morgan greeted his new guest with a smile as he approached the couch. “How did you sleep last night?” Then his face grew sympathetic. “Is something wrong?” He had noticed the unshed tears.
    Amy looked up with a small smile. “No,” she said, but her look contradicted her words. “I think I just remembered something but now I don’t know what it was.”
    “My advice to you, young lady,” Mr. Morgan replied with a kind smile, “is not to try to think of anything right now, but I feel that’s like telling Justin not to fret over his patients.” His voice dropped to a confidential whisper as he added, “It doesn’t work, you know. He frets over them anyhow.”
    This time a real smile turned up the corners of Amy’s mouth.
    “Now, how did you sleep?”
    “Better than I have for a long time, I think. I don’t really remember much of anything until this morning.”
    “Good. Maybe that will make Justin stop fretting over you.” Turning to Sara who had just come in the room, he asked, “Has your brother called again?”
    Sara shook her head. “Not since you left.”
    Just then the telephone rang loudly. Stepping through the space which separated dining room from living room, Mr. Morgan picked up the receiver. “Hello . . . Yes, Justin, she’s up and said she’s slept better than she has for a long time. That’s not saying much for your hospital, you know. . . .” He whispered something to his wife and then said aloud, “Yes, she ate a good breakfast. . . . No, I haven’t had a chance. Just got in from clearing the drive. . . . Sure I’ll be in town. . . . Yep. . . . All right. Bye.”
    Replacing the receiver, Mr. Morgan turned. “How many times a day do you think that boy will be calling us?”
    “At least a dozen,” Sara laughed, lightly running her fingers up and down a few scales on the piano. “I sometimes wonder what he’d do with thirty patients. What do you think Justin would be like with that many patients, Adam?” She paused in her playing to listen to his reply as he stirred the fire and added a few more logs.
    “He’d settle down and be just fine,” was the quiet answer.
    “Humph,” Sara snorted, as though not quite sure she agreed. Then her fingers dashed off into a lively version of “Jingle Bells.”
    “Sara!” Adam groaned, “it’s not Christmas time yet!”
    “Who said ‘Jingle Bells’ was a Christmas song?” Sara retorted merrily. “There’s snow on the ground, isn’t there?”
    Amy, settled on the couch, watched and listened to the exchange between Adam and Sara in silence. When Adam, standing up, had remarked to her in low tones, “I hope her songs don’t drive you crazy,” Amy had only smiled. She didn’t think any song would bother her.
    Picking up the book she had been reading the day before, Amy opened it and began reading while Sara, her mood seeming to wear off, settled into steady practice and for some time the only sound heard in the room was the lovely notes of the piano.

    The morning passed by before Amy was quite aware of it, and after lunch Mrs. Morgan suggested she lie down and rest for a while. “The little ones will be taking naps and you look tired. We don’t want Justin saying we didn’t take good care of you.”
    “All right,” Amy agreed readily. “I am tired.” She paused a moment before the dining room windows and looked out over the snow. “That’s what I feel my mind is like,” she said quietly as though to herself. “A large blank nothing. Only the snow sparkles when the sun shines, but my mind doesn’t. It’s just empty.”
    Coming into the dining room just then, Adam caught the girl’s troubled words. “The best thing to do with an empty mind is to fill it with good things.” His words were quiet and he continued his way into the kitchen.
    Amy turned to look after him. “Fill it with good things,” she murmured thoughtfully, limping from the room and down the hall into her lovely little room. “I wonder what he meant?”

    In town Dr. Justin Morgan was sitting in his office fiddling with his pen. “Maybe I should go up and see how she is this afternoon.” He looked across his desk to see his father shaking his head. “You don’t think I should?” he asked.
    “No, I don’t,” Mr. Morgan replied honestly. “And I’ll tell you why. First, Amy’s hardly had time to settle in, and if she feels that you are going to constantly check in on her, she’s not going to be able to relax and be herself. Second, I think that Adam and Sara are good for Amy right now in their own ways. Let them have a chance to see what they can do without you constantly interfering.”

What do you think happens?
What would you do if you suddenly didn't know
anything about your past life?

Will you be back next week for the Graham Quartet?

3 comments:

Jesseca Dawn said...

I think I'd go crazy if I couldn't remember anything. It would be horrible!
I' ll definitely be back :-)

Anonymous said...

Thanks for posting Dr. Morgan!! :)
-Christian

Rebekah said...

I agree, Jesseca, and I can't help feeling sorry for Amy. Thanks for commenting.

Glad to know you like Dr. Morgan just as much as the Graham Quartet, Christian. :) Thanks for commenting.