Countdown to Halloween

COUNTDOWN TO HALLOWEEN

Halloween-4

Mum was here again, auburn hair shining under the bright light, almost
like a halo, beautiful angelic smile, kind and loving blue eyes that
gazed down upon the tiny baby sleeping, swaddled in the delicate white
shawl which was gift from his other grandma.

"Wake up, Jane. Time to feed the baby", Mum called as she faded into
the background.

Jane awoke with a start. The baby was just beginning to cry. She lifted
him gently from the crib, her eyes adjusting to the low night light,
which seemed to turn the room into a soft blue and white haven. She
cuddled Jamie, savouring his smell of dried milk and baby lotion, then
offered him her breast. He latched on hungrily and as he fed she gently
tried to remove the insistent patch of cradle cap on the front of his
head. Soon he slept again and she placed him lovingly back into the
crib before settling back to sleep, her husband, Brian, still as a log
beside her, unaware that anyone had stirred.

Halloween-3

Mum was watching Jamie. She was humming softly as he began to stir. Her
hand reached out and gently made the white crib swing. Jamie began to
cry. The hand stretched out towards his cheek.

Jane sat up, violently shaking the dream from her head. Brian muttered
in his sleep as she lifted the baby and silenced the cry with her
breast. There was something about tonight's dream that lingered and
made the room not quite so warm and cosy. The crib still swung
gently.

"Must've happened when I lifted him out", thought Jane, but the image
of the shadow hand gently pushing remained fixed in her mind.

"Why didn't Mum call me tonight?" mused Jane.

As she thought of her mother the tears ran down her cheeks: she missed
her so much. Why did she have to die? Why? She was so looking forward
to the birth of her first grandchild; she had been telling Jane for the
last five years how much she wanted a grandchild: to be the victim of a
hit-and-run accident four months before Jamie's birth was just too
cruel, too cruel. Jane cried herself back to sleep.

Halloween-2

Jamie was crying. Mum was singing to him, but it was to no avail: the
baby was hungry. Frustration flitted across Mum's face: SHE wanted to
soothe him.

"Jamie's awake, love." It was Brian, prodding her gently in the
ribs.

Jane raised up wearily. Her head was still weighted down with sleep,
the dream was calling her back: she wanted to go back. She had to learn
something; she had missed a clue; there was a gap in the picture. By
the time the baby was sleeping again it was too late. Mum had gone.
There was only blank space until morning.

Halloween-1

Jane could hear the lullaby again: Mum's strident voice softened
deliberately for the new ears. She heard a whimper.

"Hush", Mum soothed. "We're waking Jane".

Jane opened her eyes. Jamie was looking up at Mum, his blue eyes trying
to focus. His face crumpled; he was about to cry. Mum leant over the
crib and gently touched his cheek. She was wearing the green silk dress
from the day of the accident and the long bell sleeve draped across
Jamie's head. He jumped, forgot about crying, and opened his eyes
again. Jane rolled out of bed, guarding the other side of the crib,
ready to lift Jamie out of harm's way, but Mum glared at her, stopping
her in her tracks.

"He's hungry, Mum", Jane implored.

Mum frowned. "Well this is the last time", and she rose up, her eyes
angry. She smoothed down her dress, then turned her back on Jane before
finally disappearing into the pattern on the wallpaper.

Jane lifted Jamie from the crib and cuddled him. Tonight he did not
smell so sweet: he needed a nappy change. As she made him comfortable
Mum's words echoed in her head. Why was tonight the last night? Or why
should tomorrow be different? She glanced at the clock: it was
midnight, the witching hour. Of course! Tomorrow was Halloween: night
of the spirits: the time when the spirits could come into her world.
More to the point, the time when Mum could really hold onto Jamie and
then keep him forever. Jane felt the panic sweep over her. She was
sweating and her heart pounded violently. Then, just as suddenly, she
relaxed. She would stay awake all night. Mum's entry point was through
her dreams: so tomorrow she would not open the door.

Halloween

Jane was in a quandary: should she stay up? What could she say to
Brian? She had to be careful. She had felt him monitoring her over the
last couple of days, watching for signs of post natal depression. At
times she had felt that she was talking to Brian, the paramedic, not
Brian, the husband, confidante, life mate. She felt so alone. She was
so tired. It was tempting just to go to bed, sleep, give in. She looked
at Jamie. He was so beautiful. She must fight for him: but in her
entire life, she had never fought her mother.

They went to bed early as usual, carefully carrying the sleeping baby.
They cooed over him in his crib, then kissed each other goodnight. When
she was sure that Brian was deeply asleep, Jane got out of bed, picked
up Jamie and returned to the sitting room. She settled the baby in his
carrycot, then settled herself in a chair with a magazine. It was 11.00
p.m. - an hour before danger zone. Her eyelids drooped; her body sagged
in the chair; the clock ticked slowly on.

Mum was cradling Jamie. Her face looked young, happy, peaceful,
unlined. Her eyes were soft, full of love as she rocked the baby,
tucked her little finger into his tiny hand and watched as he squeezed
it. She looked up.

"It's all right, Jane. Go back to sleep", she ordered.

Jane jerked herself awake. Panic gripped her and she turned quickly to
the carrycot. Jamie was very white, very still, his lips tinged with
blue. She put her finger under his nose but could feel no breath.

Jane screamed and screamed, but it sounded miles away. She was rigid;
her feet were glued to the carpet; she could feel nothing but
heightened nerve endings from her face down to her feet. Dimly she was
aware of Brian coming into the room. Through blurred eyes she saw him
lift Jamie. He looked as though he was kissing the baby. Then she felt
a shove in the back, Jamie was thrust into her arms and Brian said
roughly, "Feed him!"

Numbly Jane lowered herself into the chair and offered her breast to
the baby. He took it, feeding very sluggishly. She felt his warmth and
slowly her own returned and she tickled his cheek in encouragement.
Brian put his arm around her and knelt down by the side of the
chair.

"The ambulance is on its way," he said. "What happened?"

Slowly Jane told him the story, glancing nervously at him from time to
time, searching for signs of disbelief. When she had finished he leant
his head against hers and sighed.

"Well done, my love," he said. "Jamie belongs with us and together
we'll keep him here."