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“Don’t pout. The Boston mamas and their daughters will stop lining up at your door if your face gets stuck like that.”
He laughed. What an incredible woman. Feeding his soul on her playful eyes, he returned to the story.
Alice continued her slow fall. She thought she might be near New Zealand by then and worried whether her cat Dinah would be fed while she was away.
He glanced over and asked, “Are you ready to take a turn reading?” He hoped she’d agree.He was enjoying their time together and she seemed to be as well. He didn’t want his request to spoil it or cause it to end. However, he’d promised to help, and the moment felt as good as any to begin.
She gave him a tight nod and he handed the book over. He pointed to where he’d left off. To allay the discomfort he sensed she was having, he said gently, “No one’s here but the two of us. I won’t shame you in any way.”
She looked at the page and then back up at him. “Okay.”
He’d left off with Alice getting sleepy as she continued to fall and debating with herself the question of whether cats ate bats.
Her voice small, Raven read, “She felt that she was—what’s this word?”
“Dozing.”
“Ah.Dozing off, and had just begun to dream that she was—walking—hand in hand with—”
“Dinah,” he coached.
“And saying to herself very—”
He looked at the word by her fingertip. “Earnestly.”
She nodded. “...earnestly, ‘Now Dinah, tell me the—”
“Truth.”
“Did you ever eat a bat?’ when—?” She looked to him for help.
“Suddenly.”
“Suddenly—” She paused, stumped by the next word.
“Thump.”
“Thump! Thump! down she came upon a—” She stopped again and he could see her trying to figure out the word.
“Heap,” he offered quietly.
“A heap of sticks and dry—”
“...leaves.”
“And the fall was over.Thank goodness!”
He grinned.
“Alice was not a bit—hurt?” She asked with her eyes if she’d read the word correctly.
“Yes.”
“And she—jumped?”
He nodded.
“She jumped up on her feet in a—”
