Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: INDEFATIGABLE (02/11/16)
-
TITLE: Socks | Previous Challenge Entry
By Rachel Barrett
02/18/16 -
LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE
SEND A PRIVATE COMMENT
ADD TO MY FAVORITES
Jenny stands on the threshold, clutching the doorknob so hard her pudgy fingers turn white. “Socks will come back! He will!”
I lay my purse down and kneel eye-to-eye with her. “Sweetie, I don't want to leave him either. But we can't wait any longer.”
“But couldn't we just stay here?”
“No, baby, I told you. We can't afford it. That's why we're going to Grandpa's.”
Her brimming tears spill over. “But Socks won't know where we are. He'll be lonely, and scared, and . . .” Hiccuping, she leans into me.
“Socks is a smart kitty. He'll be okay.” I squeeze her tight, hoping my shoulders are big enough to carry her shattering world—and mine. “I bet he's having an adventure in the woods.”
A truck horn blares from the street, making me jump. The moving guy waves, impatient. Good thing I'm not paying him by the hour.
I ease Jenny outside, lock the door, and lead her to the car. She weeps as I buckle her in, the novelty of graduating to the grownup seat forgotten in the absence of one tiger-striped cat.
The street is quiet as we drive away, the moving truck at our heels. Jenny twists, looking back until the house disappears around a corner.
I blink hard so she won't see me cry. Moms have to be strong. No loneliness, no fear facing an uncertain future.
I flip on the radio. Music passes the hours, and before I know it, the potholed county road to Grandpa's place opens up before us. The truck chews on my bumper as I slow down. Gotta take it easy on this old car.
Jenny leans against the seat, puffy eyes shut tight. Silent tears leak through, ripping my heart out.
I mute the music. “Honey, you asleep?”
She sniffles, tears and snot dried on her face. “I was praying, Mama. That God would help Socks find us.”
“I see.” Anger clamps my fingers on the wheel. You took everything from us. Husband, father, home. Even her cat. And she still keeps believing? “I'll pray too.”
Maybe He'll hear her. Seems like my words bounce right back off the stars.
Dusk deepens, and I switch on my headlights. Finally, when I think the washboard road never will end, we pull into Grandpa's yard. He hurries out to meet us with a giant hug.
“I'll help unload.” He ushers us to the den. “You two sit down.”
The ticking clock lulls me to distraction. Jenny lies fast asleep on my shoulder by the time the truck departs and Grandpa joins us again.
She doesn't stir when he lifts her. “We'll tuck her in, then you and I can talk.”
I follow them to the bedroom. Jenny sighs in her sleep as we snuggle her in the fuzzy quilt I used to sleep under. The huge elderly farmhouse seems to welcome me, even after I stormed out nine years ago swearing I'd never come back.
“Thanks, Grandpa.” I trail him to the kitchen, bracing for judgment.
“Tea?” He pulls Grandma's whimsical cat-shaped kettle off the stove.
“Sure.” I sink into a chair. “Well?”
“Well, what?” He pours calmly.
“You gonna give me a sermon?”
He holds out a steaming mug. “I've missed you.”
My guard crumbles. “I couldn't even find Socks for her. She prayed so hard.”
He smiles, kindness in his eyes. “Sweetheart, you're not God.”
I shake my head, too weary to argue, and we drink in wordless quiet.
“You can't tote the world alone.” He pats me and heads for bed. “Rest. Things'll look brighter tomorrow.”
The soothing tea warms me inside, and I pillow my head on both arms. Down the hall to bed is an insurmountable distance. Just need a few minutes . . .
Soft chimes intrude on silence. I pull my face off the table, blinking at the clock, as the faintest of gray dawn peeks in the window. Can't believe I fell asleep.
Jenny might be lonesome. I head through the chilly entryway.
Scritch.
Toes squishing in the rug, I pause.
Scratch.
Hinges squeak lightly as I open the door. A bedraggled little face peers up. “Mreow?”
“Socks!”
He scampers into my arms—skinny, footsore, muddy, but so real.
Thank You, thank You, thank You. I hug him as he purrs. I'm just as lost as this cat was. But if God rescued him . . . maybe I can find my way home too.
***
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
“Wait on the Lord; be of good courage, and He shall strengthen your heart.” (Psalm 27:14, NKJV)
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
Accept Jesus as Your Lord and Savior Right Now - CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.
(BTW, I hope your cat has returned.)