I'm not sure what's going on with my computer this morning, but I guess it wanted to sleep in because some things are being really slow. But I didn't think you'd want that to stop me from posting a new part of "Dr. Morgan." :)
We've had spring this week! Monday it was in the 60s and Tuesday it got to 74º! But there's a chance of snow tomorrow. :P Such silly weather.
This week has been busy with my grandparents coming down to see the new baby, a political meeting last night, trying to catch up on some things, writing, and cutting hundreds of flannel quilt squares for "Blanket Day" which is tomorrow. (Several girls from church are coming over and we are going to sew flannel ragged quilts for children in need.)
My writing has been going well. I think I can reach my weekly goal of 5,000 words this week. It has been fun to have a goal and to meet it each week. At least so far. If I can keep this up, I might be able to actually get the rest of "Dr. Morgan" written in just four more weeks. Should I try? I'm putting a poll up on the side and I hope you will all vote on what you think I should write next month.
And now, the next part of the story so many of you have been waiting for . . .
The family was almost ready to sit down for supper when the front door opened and Adam’s voice was heard talking to Captain.
“Hurry up, Adam,” Sara called, stepping from the kitchen into the hall. “Supper is ready.”
“Be right there.”
After supper the family gathered in the front room where Mr. Morgan, Adam and Sara helped Danny set up an elaborate train track for an old wooden train which used to be Justin’s. Firewood was stacked up for a mountain and a footstool became a tunnel. Jenny was also interested in the train building, but her interests lay more in the destruction of the tracks. At last Mrs. Morgan carried her off to the kitchen where she was allowed to play with the pots and pans.
Amy, still pleased with her success in the cookie icing department, watched with interest the building of the tracks and at last suggested they use an old shoe box for a train shed. A box was quickly found and soon Amy was busy cutting out windows and a door which opened and shut. With this new addition Danny was pleased and spent at least ten minutes opening and shutting the door, driving his train in and out and looking through the windows.
“Honey,” Mrs. Morgan said some time later, stepping into the room with Jenny in her arms, “do you know how late it is?”
Glancing up at the clock on the mantel, Mr. Morgan looked astonished. “I had no idea it was so late. Well—“ He stood up and brushed his hands on his pant legs. “Let’s have an evening song, some prayer and then call it a night.”
Only one song was sung that night and when Amy heard it was her favorite of the evening hymns, she shyly joined in.
For some time after she had gone to her room, Amy sat in the chair beside the window and gazed up at the bright moon and twinkling stars. Everything was so quiet and peaceful. She thought back over the day and wondered if perhaps, just perhaps, it might be possible to live a life in the here and now instead of trying to force the past into a mind that didn’t want it. “Dr. Morgan said my memory might come back, but it won’t help to worry and fret over it. Well,” she sighed and rose slowly to her feet, “I’ll try to do what he said. But it won’t be easy, I’m afraid.”
She crawled into bed, settling herself so that her face was in a pool of moonlight, drew a long, deep sigh, then relaxed and lay blinking in the soft glow until her eyes closed of themselves and she fell asleep.
There was a change in the atmosphere of the Morgan home the following morning when Amy limped into the dining room. The table showed signs of breakfast, but no one was around. Had she slept longer that she thought? Had something happened? As the last idea entered her mind, her muscles tensed and she looked wildly around the room. Gasping for breath, she gripped the back of a chair.
“Amy? What’s wrong? Here, sit down.” A chair was pulled out and Amy felt herself gently forced into it. It was then that she noticed Mr. Morgan’s concerned face looking anxiously down at her. “What is wrong, Amy?” he asked gently, seeing her start to relax.
“I . . . I don’t know. I didn’t see anyone and . . . I thought something had happened, and I guess I panicked. I . . . I . . .” A shudder swept over her slight frame and she closed her eyes momentarily.
Mr. Morgan placed a gentle hand on her arm. “Everything is just fine. Today is Sunday and the others are getting ready for church. Mom is going to stay here with you today as Justin has forbidden you to go out just yet.”
A slight look of surprise swept over Amy’s face. “Sunday? I—“ The sentence broke off suddenly. She thought she heard the deep tones of the church bells ringing from the tower of the old stone . . . It was gone. The sound, the picture, she shook her head with a sigh. “It’s gone.” Her words were listless.
“What’s gone, Amy?”
“Church bells ringing, but the picture is gone.”
Mr. Morgan frowned slightly. “You could picture the bells?”
“No, I could hear them.” She put her hand to her head as though it ached. Why had the bells been ringing? Was it Sunday? Or were they ringing for— something else?
The sound of steps and voices were heard on the walkway above and Danny cried down, “Hi Grandpa!”
Mr. Morgan cheerily returned the greeting and then said softly, bending down so Amy could hear his voice, “I wouldn’t fret over it, Amy; they’ll ring again for you.”
All was confusion for a few minutes before those headed for church were out the door leaving Mrs. Morgan and Amy alone. A hearty breakfast was fixed for Amy and she ate it without much enthusiasm and almost in complete silence. The echo of the bells seemed to repeat themselves over and over and over in her mind.
It was a long morning for Amy with her usual distractions gone. Mrs. Morgan tried to interest her in talking, or reading and Amy did her best to appear interested, but it wasn’t until the others arrived back home that she was able, for a time, to forget the bells.
“Amy,” Mrs. Morgan said, as Amy finished washing the last of the lunch dishes, “everyone takes a nap on Sunday afternoon. You seem tired today, why don’t you go ahead and lie down. Things will get lively later.”
Nodding, Amy dried her hands and limped slowly from the kitchen, down the hall and into the cozy room she was growing to love. She felt worn out. But, as she closed her eyes, she heard the echoes.
Dong. Dong. Dong.
Did you like it?
Any ideas about Amy and the children?
Did you vote on the side poll?
Will you be back if I post another part next week?