It was empty. Then she heard the sobbing again and turned. It was coming from the closet.
The rain and wind rattled and tapped against the window and howled over the house. The heart-wrenching sobs grew stronger with the storm.
She opened the closet door and looked down.
Kirsty was huddled in a dark corner, her knees drawn tightly against her chest and her head buried in her small hands. Her shoulders quivered and you could hear her breath catching in short abrupt gasps.
Thunder crashed over the house so loud it almost made Georgina jump. The little girl moaned pitifully.
Georgina stepped inside and sat down on the floor next to her.
Kirsty looked at her in horror. “Go away,” she wailed. “Go away.”
Georgina didn’t say anything. She just reached up and shut the closet door. She drew up her knees and sat there in the dark, eating pie and waiting.
Kirsty was still sobbing.
Georgina waited for a long time. Then more thunder rattled the room. She set down the pie and slid her arm around Kirsty, who was shaking. “Here,” she said, and pulled the child into her lap. “Sometimes I’m afraid of storms.”
“I’m not afraid,” she muttered into her hands.
Now what?Georgina waited, then said, “I’m afraid of many things.”
“I’m not.”
“I have nightmares that frighten me.”
The child didn’t say a word.
“I’m afraid that I’m not smart.”I’m afraid that your father is smarter.
Silence.
“I’m afraid because I’m all alone. I’m afraid because I don’t have a family. I’m afraid because I don’t have any friends.”I’m afraid because I am poor.
Kirsty looked up at her.
“I’m afraid my face will always be blue. I’m afraid I might find a lobster in my bed. I’m afraid I might sneeze and my brain will fall out. I’m afraid I’ll eat this whole pie.”
Kirsty began to giggle.
Georgina held up the fork. “Want some?”
Kirsty ate some pie with her. After a few minutes she finally said, “I wasn’t telling the truth. I am afraid of storms.”
“That’s why you’re hiding in here, isn’t it?”
Kirsty nodded.
“I used to hide under my covers. I’d pull them over my head whenever there was a storm.”
“How come you’re not afraid anymore?”
“I learned to think about something else, something I really liked, and then I forgot about the storm. So I always think about my favorite things when I’m scared.”
“There are things that still scare you?”
“Yes.”
