I held my breath, waiting.
Then Gertie knocked back!
I turned the doorknob, pulling, but she held fast from the other side with a strength that surprised me.
“Won’t you please come out and let me see you?”
The door would not budge. There was only a small scuttling sound from inside the closet.
“It’s all right. Papa’s gone. He went up the hill to hunt.”
I knew she would not come out if he was near. Last night, even though I knew she was in there, I obeyed Martin and went back to bed. But I could not sleep. I lay on my side, my eyes fixed on the closet. I saw the door inch open, the glint of an eye looking through the crack. I waved at her in the dark.
Hello, my wave called.Hello, hello! Welcome back, my dear, sweet girl!
Martin was up and dressed early.
“It’s not even light out,” I said when I saw him.
“I’m going to go look for that buck. His tracks are all over the woods. If I can get him, we’ll have meat for the rest of the winter. I’ll do the chores and head into the woods; then I have some things I need to do in town. I’ll be back for supper.”
“Do you want breakfast?” I asked, rising out of bed. I thought this would please him—seeing me up and about, offering to cook.
He shook his head. “I’ll wrap up some biscuits and salt pork.” He limped down the stairs, started a fire, let the dog out, packed up some food, and fetched his gun. At last, the front door opened, then closed.
I watched out the window as he crossed the yard. As soon as he was out of sight, I ran to the closet.
How relieved I was to know for certain that it was not a dream!
I tugged at the door again, but she held tight.
“Fine, darling,” I said, stepping back. “We’ll just visit like this, then.” I settled myself on the floor. “You knock once for yes and twice for no.”
But what to ask? There were so many things I longed to know: what she remembered, if she could recall falling, if it had hurt terribly.
Yes and no questions, I reminded myself.
“Are you all right? Are you…hurt?”
No answer.
I took a breath. Tried again, deciding not to mention anything about the accident or her final day. There would be time for all of that later.
“May I get you something? Are you…are you hungry?”
She knocked once, hard and fast.
“Yes, of course, I’m so sorry, my darling—I’ll bring you some food.”
I raced down the stairs, quickly gathered a biscuit, jam, and a piece of cheese from the larder. I heated up milk and spooned in honey, just the way she liked. My heart leapt with joy to be preparing food for her once more. I hurried back upstairs, terrified that I would find the closet empty—that I had dreamed it all.
“I’m back,” I announced to the closet door. “I’m putting the food right outside the door. Would you like me to go away while you eat?”
One knock.
But, oh, what joy that one knock brought me!
I laid the food down just outside the closet.
