Page 34 of Their Little Foursome

“If we want to walk into a future free of fear, of pain, we have to break the hold the past has on all of us. The only way we will ever beat it is if we do so together. That is why the story has got to be told one last time. Are we agreed?”

One by one the others nodded, tears blinked back as Beverly moved to hug both the Littles while Gordon turned to address the others.

“First, you have to know this story isn’t just about one of us. It is aboutallof us.” He looked at Blake. “You are the only one who knows how it all started that night. Do you think you can share it?”

Beverly saw the hesitation, the flare of fear in her Little boy’s eyes. “Pumpkin, I know this is hard, but we all agreed it is the right thing to do.”

Blake looked unconvinced, his fingers visibly trembling against the cookie they held. “I-I don’t think I-I can.”

Needing him to know she was there, Beverly sat and tugged him onto her lap while Gordon did the same with Lori. The Littles were still close enough to reach out and hold hands or offer a touch of reassurance.

Beverly felt a loving warmth flood through her when Gordon’s arm draped against the back of the loveseat. She spoke to Blake. “We are all right here with you. If it gets too hard, you can stop. Do you remember what we talked about the night thenightmare came back?” With his nod, she continued, “Once you tell your story, it won’t have any power over you. It won’t be able to frighten you anymore.”

Her words were accompanied by Lori’s soft smile as she reached up to touch his cheek.

“I don’t want you to be scared to go to sleep again. Tell the story, Blake. Tell them how you saved me from the monsters. Tell them how you were my angel.”

CHAPTER 12

Blake

Agreeing that the story needed to be told was far easier than telling it. He knew if he’d been alone, he would never have found the courage. As it was, he could feel the talons of the demons of his dreams taking hold in his belly. When he looked toward the door, his feet shifted as if preparing to run. The weight he felt of hands dropping onto his shoulders kept him in place, and the soft words of the man he’d been so angry at gave him the courage he honestly didn’t know he had.

“You’re the man who made this story one of hope, Blake. If you hadn’t been brave that night, Lori wouldn’t be here. Nothing can change the fact thatyouwere the superhero that night.”

When he felt something brush his arm, he looked down to see Lori offering him Scott. With one hand clenching around his stuffy, the other held in Lori’s, Blake began. His voice was so soft but in a room where not another single person made a sound, it was enough.

“I lived in a small town in southeast Texas. There were more cattle living there than people. Our police force consisted of asheriff, a half-dozen deputies and a dispatcher we called Mrs. H. She loved to bake and was always bringing in baked goods she’d made. We had only one holding cell but if there was anyone in it, she always made sure they got a slice of cake or a cookie. That day she’d brought in a batch of what she called kitchen-sink cookies. You know the ones that have all sorts of different flavor chips and coconut and pecans in them?” He paused and then shook his head. “I had forgotten about them, but I-I guess it’s not important.”

“It is,” his Mommy assured him. “It’s your spirit reminding you that despite the bad, there are far more good people in this world. I bet those cookies were delicious.”

Blake looked at the crowd and saw smiles and nodded. “Yeah, she was a really good baker.”

He told them how it had been a cyclist who had to stop to fix his bike tire who had seen the skid marks and noticed the guardrail where the truck had been broken through. He’d seen the path it had taken, tearing up the ground and shearing branches off trees.

“When he called in, he actually apologized because he couldn’t tell us much more, other than he could see a semitruck on its side. He couldn’t reach it due to the slope and the fact it had been raining for the past week. It was very muddy and the ditch was full of water.” Blake paused and cleared his throat. “He never knew how lucky he was that he never went further.”

Blake went on to tell them the story about how he and his partner John had responded to the call. Blake had found the cab of the truck, which had become unattached from the trailer as it rolled over and over down the embankment.

“The driver didn’t make it.”

Blake didn’t tell them all of it. No Little needed to be haunted as he had by sight of the driver and the branch that had impaled him. Didn’t need to know he’d burned when the cab caughton fire. He’d thought the man had been lucky to have died so quickly. That was until they found the trailer. Then he’d prayed the man would burn in hell for all eternity.

“The trailer was twisted and buckled, and the rear end of the truck had sunk into the ditch. After days of rain, it was more a creek than a ditch. I couldn’t do more than slide my fingers between the doors. We had to wait for heavy equipment to lift the trailer out of the ditch so the fire department could pry the doors open far enough to gain entry.”

Closing his eyes didn’t block the vision he’d seen when water had poured out once they’d gotten the doors open far enough for him to slide inside. The stench of death hit him before he’d even shone his flashlight into the truck to reveal the mass of bodies.

“It was dark and it took me a moment to understand what I was seeing wasn’t cargo jumbled from the crash. The truck was full of people. They had been trapped with no way to get out. There were so many. I kept calling and praying that some had survived, but no one called back. Some had died upon impact, those near the doors had most likely drowned. No one stirred or moaned. No one answered my calls as I made my way the full length of the trailer. I was turning around to go back when my light caught something moving. It was the fingers of a hand.”

He could still remember the weight of the flashlight when he’d had to tuck it beneath his chin to free his hands. The apologies he’d given softly as he’d moved the bodies that were on top of her clearly replayed in his head.

“It was a girl. I promised her I’d get her out, that she’d be okay… but when I got her outside and laid her on the gurney, she stopped moving. I-I knew I’d not been able to keep my promise?—”

The room was no longer completely silent, the soft sounds of Littles crying audible. When Blake’s voice broke as he toldhow he knew he’d not kept his promise, Lori reached over and wrapped her arms around him as best she could.

“You did great,” she whispered and then turned to face the room.

CHAPTER 13

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