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Deleted Scene - Chapter 47
March 19, 2011

This deleted scene from chapter 47 of Her Daughter’s Dream would begin on p. 424. It shows Dawn telling her Bible study ladies about her family’s recent visit to Fort Leonard Wood in Missouri.

Dawn held the midweek Bible study on time. Alicia Martinez, Penny Talbot, Laurel Henney, and Bev Kirby, all four officers’ wives, sat in the living room with cups of coffee or tea and plates of lemon cake. They always talked before getting down to the serious business of Bible study.

“Every time I come over here, you’ve done something more to the place, Dawn.” Laurel lifted her teacup. “When did you get these?”

Dawn laughed. “Jason thought it would cheer me up to stop at an estate sale in Springfield after we dropped everyone off at the airport. I found the tea trolley and all these teacups and saucers.” Every one was different. “Ladies used to buy them as hostess gifts.”

“I can’t even imagine what George would say if I asked him to stop at an estate sale.” Bev rolled her eyes.

“Jason thought he’d better keep an eye on me.” Dawn offered more tea and cake to each and then sat to eat her thin cake as the others talked. Ricardo had orders, and Alicia would be packing up for the move to Fort Bragg, North Carolina.

“I hear it’s a beautiful state.”

“I’ve been in California, North Carolina, Texas, and Oklahoma.” Bev’s husband outranked everyone else’s. “They all have their own special beauty. When you get there, play tourist and see all you can before they send you somewhere else.”

Dawn felt a wave of nausea and put her cup down. She had just passed the first trimester, but her appetite still hadn’t picked up. Maybe the nausea had to do with nerves over the last week and trying to make sure she had time with Granny and Mom. She never had to worry about how to entertain Mitch and Christopher. They took off to see the Indians Caves or talked Jason into bowling “so the girls can talk.”

Granny talked. Mom didn’t get the chance to say much of anything.

“Your family didn’t stay long.” Alicia set her teacup carefully in the saucer and set them on an old colonial-style coffee table Dawn had painted white.

“They never do.” Even fewer days this time with Granny along.

“I wish I’d had more opportunity to get to know your mother.” Alicia looked round at the others. “She’s beautiful, like an adult version of that girl in The Princess Bride. And I love her clothes.”

Dawn smiled. “She’s always liked long colorful skirts and peasant blouses.” Sometimes clothing could be camouflage. Anyone would expect Mom to be bold, outspoken, eccentric, not reticent, shy, and surprisingly conservative. She’d left her blonde hair loose only for one day. Dawn thought it looked lovely, but Granny said it reminded her of the hippies. Mom wore it in a French braid after that.

Laurel took another macaroon. “How did things go?”

These women had all prayed Dawn might be a bridge between her mother and grandmother. “All right, I guess.”

“You guess?” Laurel raised her brows.

“Mom went out for long walks every afternoon.” She always retreated when she felt uncomfortable. Dawn wondered if she had gone this time so Granny could have more time with Dawn. If so, Granny didn’t return the favor. Even when the three of them sat together, the men off somewhere, Granny dominated the conversation, asking questions or reminiscing about Dawn as a baby, a toddler, a child. “They love each other. They just don’t know how to talk to one another.”

Penny looked sympathetic. “Do they try?”

“Not really. I can’t explain it. They’re polite. They avoid deep conversations about anything important and keep the focus on me instead.” She offered more tea to Bev. “There’s a lot of unfinished business between them. And I think I’m a big part of it.”

Bev gave a halfhearted laugh. “I’d be happy if my mother and grandmother were polite. They can’t be in the same room together without getting into an argument. My grandmother still adores FDR. She swears he rescued us from the Depression. My mother swears he was a socialist who made the Depression last longer. Need I say more?” Dimples deepened in her cheeks. “I tell them I know all about everything, but they just won’t listen.”

They all laughed.

Laurel set her plate on the coffee table. “I couldn’t stand my mother when I was fourteen. By the time I turned eighteen, I realized she actually had a lot to say.” She rolled her eyes. “And now I have three daughters of my own. When Mom comes to visit, she just pats my hand and says to enjoy the white-water rapids.”

Alicia told Lalo to go back and play quietly with his cars. “My grandmother has Alzheimer’s. My mom has been taking care of her for the last three years. It’s been hard on both of them. My grandmother tried to hide her condition for a long time. Mom was so frustrated with her, when she finally realized what was happening, she felt horrible. I think she still does. Mom swears she’ll never put my grandmother into a facility, but it’s going to come to that soon.” She pinched crumbles from her denim skirt. “And I’m going to have to be the one to put my foot down. If I don’t, I’ll risk losing both of them.”

Penny put her cup down. “My mother died of cancer when I was twenty-three. That was twenty years ago, and I still miss her. During the first year, I’d pick up the telephone and start to dial and then remember she wouldn’t be there to answer.” Her dark brown eyes looked glossy. “There’s something special about a relationship between a mother and daughter, don’t you all think?”

Laurel’s expression turned sour. “A mother can do a lot of damage.”

“Like Herodias.” Dawn thought aloud. “When she told her daughter to dance for King Herod and demand John the Baptist’s head on a platter.”

“That’s a good bad example.” Bev shuddered.

“Or a mother could be like Lois, who raised Eunice in the faith, and they both raised Timothy together. The apostle Paul thought of him as a son.”

Alicia leaned over and put her hand on Dawn’s knee. “You’re awfully pale, Dawn. Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Just a little tired.” She hadn’t realized how stressful it would be having Mom and Granny together for four days. Not that anything untoward had been said. Jason had to get up early, and he found it hard to keep his eyes open after nine o’clock. Mitch would suggest it was time to head back to the Ramada Inn in Waynesville. Mom would then ask Granny if she was ready to go. It became a ritual, leaving it up to Granny to decide. If there had been extra bed in the second room instead of the new crib, Dawn would have asked Mom to spend the night. With Granny, Mitch, and Christopher back at the Ramada Inn, maybe she and Mom could’ve talked more.

Her mother never said much, but what she said counted.

Deleted Scene - Chapter 57
March 19, 2011

This deleted scene from Her Daughter’s Dream is the original ending to chapter 57 and begins on p. 528. It comes on the heels of Dawn’s eavesdropping on her mother and grandmother’s conversation about Carolyn’s time at Berkley and afterward and about Hildie’s relationship with Dawn.

Dawn got up carefully. She braced herself against the dresser until the pain eased. Stooping cautiously, she gathered the pillows and comforter and put them back on the bed. She slipped beneath the covers and thanked God for answering her prayers.

Granny opened the French doors quietly and came back to bed. Dawn heard a soft sob and felt Granny shaking. She rolled over slowly, edging her clumsy body closer. She touched Granny’s back and heard another smothered sob. “I’ve been eavesdropping. I heard everything you both said, Granny. I love you, too.” She rubbed Granny’s back. “I’d tuck myself behind you, but there’s someone between us.”

Granny gave a soft, broken laugh and turned over. Facing Dawn, Granny whispered, “I did love you more. Because you let me.”

Dawn touched her wrinkled cheek. “I know.” She shifted close enough to put her forehead against Granny’s. “But things are different now, Granny. You both opened up. You have time to get to know one another all over again.”

“How did you become so wise?”

By suffering.

Dawn kissed Granny’s forehead. “Go to sleep. It’s still raining. The roads are closed. We’ll talk all day tomorrow.”

Deleted Scene - Chapter 2
February 28, 2011

This “deleted scene” was the first draft of chapter 2, which begins on p. 9. It has some different details about life in the Arundel household while Hildie was still in the sanatorium.

Daddy sat at the kitchen table, facing Carolyn and Charlie. He looked so sad. “Mommy has to go away for a while. Charlie, you’ll take the bus to school. It picks you up and drops you off at the end of the street. Carolyn, you’re going to be across the street with Mrs. Haversal. She’ll keep you there until I get home from work. Now, don’t start crying. It just makes things harder on all of us.” He tipped her chin. “Promise me you’ll be good and do whatever Mrs. Haversal tells you. Do you understand?” She nodded. Daddy ruffled Charlie’s hair, making his cowlick stand up even more. “And you behave.” He smiled. “I don’t want to have to arrest you and throw you in jail.” Shoving back his chair, Daddy stood and adjusted his jacket, hiding the thick leather holster that held his gun snugly against his ribs.

Charlie had the brave look on his face. “Why does Mom have to go away?”

“She isn’t well. She needs rest to get better.”

“When’s she coming home?”

Daddy’s eyes glistened. “I don’t know, Charlie.” He forced a smile. “But it’s not like she’s going to the North Pole. I’ll see her every weekend, and you can talk to her every day on the telephone. Come on, you two.” Expression grim, he waved them along. “I’ve got to get to work and make us some money.” He walked them across the street and knocked on Mrs. Haversal’s door. He clamped his hand on Carolyn’s head. “Keep your promise. No tears! Mrs. Haversal is doing me a big favor having you with her all day. You be good.”

Carolyn blinked and swallowed hard and tried to be brave when Mrs. Haversal told Charlie it was time to go catch the school bus. “Hug your sister good-bye.”

Charlie squeezed her tight and whispered, “Don’t cry! She’ll tell on you and Daddy will spank you.”

“You gotta go, Charlie.” Mrs. Haversal opened the front door. “Get a move on or you’ll miss your bus, and I can’t drive you. Your sister is going to be just fine. Don’t you worry about her.”

Her brother grabbed his lunch pail and hurried out the door. “See ya later, alligator.”

“After while, crocodile.” Carolyn parroted what she’d heard her father say.

Mrs. Haversal closed the door behind him. She waved Carolyn away from the window. “You can sit there at the coffee table and draw. I put out paper and crayons.” Mrs. Haversal turned on the radio and took out her crocheting. Carolyn drew four stick figures holding hands. She drew the same picture on the two other sheets of paper Mrs. Haversal had left out for her. She sat quiet for a while, and then wandered about the room, curious about the pretty things.

“Don’t touch that.” Mrs. Haversal scowled. When Carolyn looked at a pretty woman in a long flowing gown, Mrs. Haversal spoke up again, so sharply this time, Carolyn jumped. “Don’t get anywhere near that figure. A friend gave me that years ago and I don’t want it broken.” She pointed. “There’s a blanket and pillow on the couch. Take a nap.”

It seemed forever before Charlie came back. He stayed only long enough to dump his school papers and lunch box, then charged back outside to play with neighborhood boys. Mrs. Haversal told Carolyn she could go outside, too, but she had to stay inside the picket fence. Carolyn watched her big brother through the white painted slats. The boys ran up and down the street, laughing and shouting. Tears ran down her cheeks, but Carolyn wiped them away quickly, afraid someone might see and tell Daddy she couldn’t keep her promise.

The fence closed Carolyn in. She wanted to play, too, but knew she’d get in trouble if she unlatched the gate. And where would she go now that the boys had disappeared around the corner? Mommy was gone. Daddy wasn’t home. She looked at her home across the street. The glass windows looked like shiny eyes with nothing showing behind the curtains inside. No movement. Nobody was home.

What if Daddy never came back? He didn’t like crybabies. She’d tried hard not to cry, but the harder she did, the more her chest and stomach hurt, the more she felt like she was choking. She felt the fear growing as she watched and waited for him. A police car turned the corner and came up the street. She jumped up and down. “Daddy! Daddy!

When the squad car parked in the driveway across the street, Mrs. Haversal came outside. “You can go home now.”

Carolyn banged the gate open in her haste and ran.

Brakes screeched loudly. A horn blasted. She froze, staring into the shining chrome grin of a monster.

Daddy swore and shouted at the driver. Slow down, you idiot, it’s a neighborhood; maybe I ought to haul you in . . . When Daddy swung Carolyn up into his arms, she saw his red face, his blazing eyes. She felt his heat, his strength, his fury.

The man behind the steering wheel looked scared. He had his hands up. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t see her. She ran into the street.

Daddy strode back to the sidewalk in front of home, set her down, gave her a hard slap on her backside. “Look next time!” He yanked her arm, propelling her toward the house. “Get inside!” Bottom stinging, arm aching, Carolyn ran up the steps. She had to wait until he unlocked the door. She had to go potty; she had to go so bad. She didn’t make it inside. Daddy looked down, said a hoarse, hard word, and told her to go change her pants. Charlie came running when their father called.

Carolyn didn’t feel much like eating the macaroni and cheese and green beans Daddy put on her plate, her stomach tight and grumbly. Her father sat at the head of the table, looking at her, and she kept her head down. She’d never been afraid of him before. But now, afraid he’d get mad and spank her again, she poked at her food, pretending to eat. When he reached out, she flinched. He uttered a short word under his breath and left the table. Standing at the sink, Daddy stared out the window. “I’m sorry, Carrie. You scared me. That’s all. Look both ways before you cross the street next time. Okay?”

When Mommy called, Daddy talked to her for a long time. Then Charlie had a turn. When he handed the telephone receiver to Carolyn, she could only think of one thing to say. “Mommy . . . Mommy . . .” She started to cry.

Daddy took the phone from her. Turning his back, he talked to Mommy again. “She’s fine. Don’t worry about her. She’ll adjust. Just get better. I love you.” When he hung up, he went into the living room and sat on the sofa. He put his elbows on his knees and held his head. “Jesus, help me. What am I supposed to do now?” he said under his breath.

“A bath, Daddy.” Charlie stood in front of him, unafraid. “Mommy always gives us our baths in the evening.”

“Okay.” Sighing, Daddy stood. “Baths it is.” He nodded toward the hallway. “Let’s get it done.”

***

A week passed and Mommy didn’t come home. At night, Carolyn curled up under the covers. Monsters lived under her bed, so she had to be very still and quiet or they’d know she was there. She didn’t dare put her feet on the floor or one might grab her and pull her under.

“She’s an anxious little thing, isn’t she?” Mrs. Haversal said to Daddy.

“Is she causing you trouble?” At least he didn’t tell Mrs. Haversal she had started sucking her thumb and wetting her bed at night.

“Oh no. She hardly utters a peep all day. She just sits there drawing those stick figures. Maybe you could buy her a coloring book.”

“Sure. Doesn’t she play outside?”

“She sits outside. She doesn’t do anything. She just waits.” Mrs. Haversal shook her head. “Some children need their mothers more than others.”

“I can’t do anything about that, LaVonne.”

“Any word when Hildemara might come home?”

“It takes time.”

“Must be expensive, too, staying in the hospital for weeks on end.”

“Unfortunately.” He asked Mrs. Haversal to pick up the newspaper and mail over the weekend. “I’m taking the kids down to Murietta to see their grandmother.”

***

Charlie sat in the front seat with Daddy. Peering out the window, he asked a dozen questions. Carolyn sat in back, silent, not tall enough to see anything. The sound of the car engine made her drowsy. After a while, she curled up on the seat, tucked her thumb in her mouth, and fell asleep, only awakening when the car door opened. “Come on, sleepyhead.” Daddy pulled his handkerchief out of his back pocket. “Let’s get this sludge off your face.” He wiped her mouth and chin. “Keep your thumb out of your mouth! You’re not a baby. You’re three years old.”

“Hello there!” Oma appeared in the doorway of her white cottage. The screen door slammed behind when she came outside. “It’s good to see you, Trip.” She took Daddy’s hand and patted it. Then she hugged Charlie and said yes he could go climb the rope ladder to the tree house. She hunkered in front of Carolyn and smiled warmly. “Let me take a good look at you.” She gently brushed the tangled blonde hair back from her face. “You look like Elise. She was my little sister and she was very, very pretty, just like you.” She drew Carolyn into her arms and held her. Carolyn let out a big sigh and rested her head against Oma’s shoulder. When Oma stood, she tucked her hands beneath Carolyn’s arms and lifted her. Carolyn wrapped her legs around Oma’s waist and wrapped her arms around her neck like a little monkey to its mother. “I think you already know my answer, Trip.”

“Thank God.” His voice sounded hoarse.

“Come on inside.” Oma opened the screen door. “Here now, Carolyn.” She patted Carolyn’s bottom and set her down in the kitchen. “How about a nice glass of cold milk and a piece of angel food cake?” She set out four plates. “You can help slice.” She handed Carolyn a tall, finely toothed utensil and showed her how to cut the spongy white cake. “There you have it. Good girl! Make the next three slices the same size.” Oma poured coffee for Daddy. “I’ve already talked to the Martins. They can run things just fine without me. I’ll have to come back every so often and check on the place, but I can do that on the days you have off.” She lifted her blue willow cup and sipped. “How’s she doing?”

“No change.”

“She’ll improve when she comes home.” Oma set her cup down and gave a grim laugh. “Knowing Hildemara Rose, she’s probably fretting about bills, and that’s not going to help her get better.”

“She convinced she’s dying.”

Carolyn looked up. “Is Mommy dying?”

Daddy’s face looked funny. He started to say something and couldn’t.

“You’re going to have to watch your tongue, young man.” Oma set her cup down firmly. She smiled at Carolyn. “No. Your mother is not dying.” She ran her hand over Carolyn’s hair. “She needs rest. That’s all. I’m going to come and live with you and Charlie and your daddy. Your mother will be home in a few days. You won’t have to go to a babysitter anymore. You can stay in your own house and you’ll see your mother every day. How does that sound to you?”

“That sounds good.”

Daddy looked like he was going to cry. “That’s the first smile I’ve seen on her face in two months.” He got up and went outside. Carolyn could hear his voice, deep and husky, calling out. “Hey, Charlie, what do you think of that tree house? Something, isn’t it?”

Oma tipped Carolyn’s chin. “Let’s go brush your hair and put it in a ponytail. What do you say?” She took Carolyn by the hand and led her into the back bedroom. She patted a stool in front of the vanity dresser. While Oma brushed her hair, Carolyn watched her grandmother in the mirror. She liked her white hair and tanned, wrinkled cheeks. She had warm green-brown eyes like Mommy’s. Oma smiled back at her. “I made a doll for you. She’s not fancy with a porcelain face, but she needs lots of cuddling. And there’s a puzzle I’ve been working on for weeks on a board under my bed. Maybe later, we can take it out and put it on the coffee table in the living room. I could use help putting it together.” She brushed Carolyn’s long curly blonde hair into her hand. When all the tangles had been worked out, Oma wound a rubber band around Carolyn’s hair. “There. That looks better. Don’t you think?”

When they went outside, Oma sat in a rocking chair. Carolyn climbed onto her lap. She loved the comforting warmth and softness of Oma’s body, the motion of the chair rocking back and forth. She liked the feel of Oma’s arms around her, the steady beat of her heart.

Daddy came and sat in the other chair. Insects hummed and Charlie called out, wanting to look around. “Sure!” Oma called back. “Just don’t scare my chickens. They’ll stop laying. If you like rabbits, they’re out back beyond the bay tree.”

Carolyn didn’t care about chickens and rabbits. Not now. She wanted to stay exactly where she was, in Oma’s arms being rocked in the shade, hearing Daddy’s voice, calm now, the way he used to be when Mommy lived with them.

“We’ve got four bedrooms.” Daddy told Oma. “Hildie wants one to herself with a hospital bed. The kids can share. You’ll have a room of your own.”

“All I need is a twin bed, dresser, side table, and lamp.”

“I’ll see to it.”

“Don’t worry about bedding. I’ll bring whatever I need.”

Charlie came back and asked Oma if she had any carrots. Laughing, Oma set Carolyn on her feet and took her hand. “Come on, you two.” She went into the kitchen and dug around in her small refrigerator. “Here you go.” She handed a carrot to Charlie and another to Carolyn. “Don’t open the hutch door. Just feed them through the wire.”

Carolyn ran after Charlie. He pointed out a brown and white rabbit. “I like that one. I’m going to name him Peter.” Carolyn poked her carrot through the mesh wire and pointed it toward the big white rabbit that reminded her of Alice in Wonderland. Alice had followed a white rabbit down a hole. This one didn’t have a suit on or a pocket watch, and he wasn’t going anywhere, but she laughed at the way he chewed. When the carrots disappeared into the rabbits, Charlie led her around the farm. He looked for bugs in the vegetable garden, mice in the barn, and bird nests in the orchard.

Daddy and Oma sat in the shade and talked most of the afternoon. Then they went inside. Oma came out later and called “Charlie” and “Carolyn” and rang a triangle. “Supper’s on the table.” After a dinner of roast beef, mashed potatoes, sliced tomatoes, and fresh string beans, Daddy said it was time to hit the road.

“Too bad you didn’t bring extra things for the kids. They could stay with me until things are ready.”

Daddy gave her a funny smile. “I brought pajamas and a couple changes of clothes for Carolyn, just in case.”

“Let’s ask if she wants to stay.” Oma sat on the couch and patted the place beside her. Carolyn sat. “I’m going to move in with you in a few days. Would you like to stay here with me until I’m packed and we can go home together?”

Carolyn loved Oma, but she didn’t want to be left behind. She looked at Daddy. She chewed her lip, trying not to cry. He frowned. “If you come home with me, Carolyn, you’ll have to stay with Mrs. Haversal.”

“Will Charlie stay, too?”

“Charlie has school.”

She looked up at Oma. Oma ran her hand over Carolyn’s hair. “We’ll work on that puzzle, Liebling. We can go to the library and check out some good storybooks. Your daddy will call you every night, and as soon as my room is set up, we’ll be on our way. What do you say?”

“I want to stay here with you.”

Oma brushed her cheek. “You make an old woman very happy.”

Carolyn almost changed her mind when Daddy and Charlie got into the car. She wanted to run after them and scream for Daddy to come back and not leave her. Oma picked her up and stroked her back. “You’ll see them in a few days. Your daddy is going to move heaven and earth to have you back again. He loves you very much. We’re all going to be together as a family very soon.”

Carolyn didn’t see the mixture of emotions in Oma’s face that she had seen in Daddy’s. Oma didn’t look uncertain or sad. She didn’t look afraid. Oma wore glasses, but behind them Carolyn saw clear, warm eyes filled with confidence. “Can I play with the doll now, Oma?”

Oma laughed. “Of course you can, but only until bedtime. I turn in early, and we’re both going to get up at the crack of dawn. I’ll teach you how to milk a cow. And you can help me feed the chickens.”

Carolyn didn’t suck her thumb that night. She curled up against Oma and felt warm and secure. She dreamed about a tea party with the white rabbit that ate carrots from her hand. He stood on his back legs, tapped his foot, and told her he wanted ice cream tomorrow. She giggled in her sleep.

Deleted Scene - Chapter 5
February 28, 2011

This scene is a longer version of one that appears in chapter 5 and would begin on p. 41. It has more details of Charlie and Carolyn’s summer with Oma Marta in Murietta.

Oma never left them alone. She didn’t allow Charlie to “mope around.” She took them to the library and checked out adventure stories and picture books. She put out a puzzle of Switzerland and told them stories about her faraway friends Rosie and Solange. When they finished that puzzle, she bought another of an English countryside and told them stories of Daisy Stockhard and fancy afternoon tea parties and daily outings to the royal Kew Gardens. When Carolyn asked if they could have tea parties, too, Oma said of course they could, and they would have one every afternoon if she liked.

Sometimes Oma drove them all the way to Merced Lake, where she taught them how to swim. By the middle of summer, Charlie could swim all the way out to the raft, but Carolyn never ventured far from shore. Oma sat under an umbrella and read one of the big books she checked out of the library. On the way home, Oma took them to Blueberry Hill Café to have dinner. She told them Mom worked there as a girl and earned tips for being a good waitress to the truckers who carried produce up and down Central Valley Highway 99.

“Your mom is a good, hard worker. You should be very proud of her.”

Every Sunday, they went to church. Charlie grumbled at first, but then he made friends with other boys. Carolyn met Oma’s old lady and gentlemen friends who always told her stories of way-back-when Opa was still alive. Charlie met new friends and often stayed in town. Oma took Carolyn with her to visit shut-ins who liked to play canasta and hearts and talk about “the good old days.” There was always lots of talking going on.

Some talked of Communists in Korea and Russia infiltrating the country or how the A-bomb would be the end of the world. If one of those bombs could destroy an entire city, think what a dozen could do. There’d be enough radioactive poison in the air to kill everything on the earth! They talked about the Red Threat and World War III like it was something that might happen tomorrow morning. There wouldn’t be winners this time, they said. And as if times weren’t hard enough, now they had to foot the bill to pay for rebuilding Japan and Germany. “They started the war!”

“We won. Rebuilding is the Christian thing to do.” Oma dealt the cards. “And it’ll make allies out of enemies.”

On the way to pick up Charlie, Carolyn asked Oma what it all meant. Oma snorted. “Fear mostly.” She smiled at Carolyn while driving down the elm-lined street. “Your Opa would say we need to remember Jesus. He’d say we don’t have to worry about anything. He’d say fear is a bigger enemy than any man could ever be. But sometimes people just get wound up like an alarm clock waiting for the hour to strike.”

While adults fretted about the world, Charlie looked for ways to scare himself half to death. He and his new town friends liked to go to the monster movies at the theater. Oma told Carolyn they’d only give her nightmares. “And you’ve had enough of those.”

It didn’t save her.

Whenever Charlie came home after a matinee, he couldn’t wait to tell every detail about Martians that hide their spaceship underground and monsters coming out at night to put little red lights in the backs of people’s necks, then making them into slaves. Oma just laughed. Charlie didn’t think it so funny. Oma lifted her hair. “Find anything blinking back there?” He said no. She snorted. “Better check again tomorrow night.”

Embarrassed by Oma’s mirth, Charlie waited until Oma was out of earshot to tell Carolyn more frightening tales of flashes in the sky that blinded everyone and plants that went around eating people. “The only way to kill them is with salt water!” And what good was that with the ocean a hundred miles away? He told her about how giant ants lurked in city sewers, coming up at night to eat little girls just like her. He imitated their eeek-eeeking sounds. The next time they went to Merced Lake, halfway to the raft, he told her about a monster that swam in a black lagoon. “It could be under us right now!” He swam faster. So did she. It took him all afternoon to coax her back in the water, and Oma shouting from the shore that the park would close at sunset.

Hitch Martin, Oma’s sharecropper, heard Charlie telling Carolyn another scary story and challenged him to a snipe hunt in the orchard on the next full moon. “It takes a brave boy to hunt snipe.”

Oma looked grim, but she agreed it was time. “We don’t want any snipes around here, do we?” Charlie wanted Carolyn to go along, but Oma put her foot down. “No girls. Snipe can smell fear. Snipe hunting is only for the brave.” She tucked Carolyn close. “Besides, we need to stay safe in case you need doctoring.”

“Doctoring?” Charlie’s eyes went wide.

“If you catch a snipe, no telling what can happen to you. Snipes have fangs.”

Charlie’s courage wavered the night of the hunt. Hitch Martin asked if he was chickening out. Oma shrugged and said if he was too afraid to go, he could hide inside while Hitch and his son went out looking for the critters. Humiliated, Charlie got mad. “Okay. Okay! What do I do? Set a trap or what?”

“Hitch Martin already told you to go out there and holler for the snipe. They’re attracted by noise. They’ll take it as a challenge and come for you. You’ll see. But be careful. Keep your wits about you.”

Carolyn wanted to hide in the house, but Oma said nothing doing; they were going to sit outside and listen. Carolyn pulled the other rocker close to Oma’s and sat on the edge of it, motionless, listening to her brother shouting in the distance. “Hey, snipe. Here, snipe . . . .” His voice wavered. “Come here, snipe . . .”

“What’s a snipe?” Carolyn whispered.

“Nothing.” Oma’s shoulders shook, her mouth open in silent laughter.

Before Carolyn could ask what Oma found so funny, she heard an eerie high-pitched screech coming from the orchard. Then she heard loud screaming. The screaming came closer and closer until Carolyn spotted Charlie flying out from between two rows of almond trees. His legs pumped faster as he ran across the moonlit sand driveway. He skidded to a stop when loud guffaws came behind him. The laughter rose and carried as Mr. Martin and his teenage son strolled into the open.

“Here, snipe!” Rorry Martin called out, mocking him. “Here, snipe!” Hitch Martin held his knees he laughed so hard.

Fuming, Charlie stalked toward the cottage. He glared at Oma. “A wild-goose chase?”

Oma shook her head. “Geese are real.”

Charlie yanked the door open and slammed it behind him.

Oma chortled. “What’s the matter, Charlie? I thought you liked being scared out of your wits!”

Carolyn had a nightmare that night. She was in the orchard, calling for snipe, snipe, come out, snipe, wherever you are. And Dock came out from behind a tree. “Here, I am honeybee.” He reached out and caught hold of her.

Oma shook her awake. Shivering, Carolyn huddled close, staring into the darkness. Oma held her close. “Dreams are like snipe hunts, Carrie. They come from our imagination. Don’t be afraid.”

Carolyn hadn’t imagined Dock. And the nightmare had come back like a hunter in the darkness.

Deleted Scene - Chapter 27
February 28, 2011

This scene is a longer version on one that appears in chapter 27 and would begin on p. 250. Dawn and Jason have just met at Christopher’s VBS, and Dawn decides to try the youth group at Jason’s church.

Dawn looked for Jason when she accompanied Christopher’s class back into the warehouse. He stood on the platform, talking and laughing with the two girls while the classes settled into their designated seats. Pastor Mike had the microphone again and encouraged everyone to get settled quickly. He explained how the children’s offerings would buy books for an orphanage in Mexico. Overhead pictures of smiling Mexican children flashed on screen—a run-down facility, a big classroom with children sitting at tables and facing a big blackboard and teacher, rows of cots in a barracklike dormitory, a dirt playing field, more smiling faces. He asked if anyone had a guest. Dawn held Christopher’s hand down. Pastor Mike went on. “Keep giving out those invitations! We have plenty of room for more.”

He tossed the hand microphone to Jason, who had everyone up and singing again. After several songs, Jason gave a short closing prayer and called out, “See you all tomorrow!”

Dawn grabbed Christopher’s hand and headed for Mom standing against the wall with several other women. She came toward them and smiled at Dawn. “I see you survived.”

“It was okay, I guess.” She didn’t want to sound overly enthusiastic and have Mom wonder why. “I said I’d help again tomorrow. One of the guys.”

As soon as they got in the Suburban, Christopher teased Dawn in a singsong voice from the back seat. “Dawn loves Jason Steward.”

Mortified, Dawn swung around and glared at him. “Get real!”

“You got all red in the face when he looked at you. I think he likes you, too.”

“Shut up, Christopher! He likes everybody, even a little dweeb like you.”

Mom glanced at her. “Who’s Jason?”

Dawn shrugged and looked out the window. “Just a guy that goes to Healdsburg High.”

“Jason Steward, Mommy. You know who he is. He leads the praise band.”

“Oh. Him.” Mom grimaced slightly. “He’s rather zealous, isn’t he?”

“He helps in my class.” Christopher bragged. “And he didn’t laugh when I said I wanted to be a rock star.”

Dawn decided now was as good a time as any to broach a new subject. “He invited me to youth group tonight.”

“Invited?” Her mother gave her a quick glance. “As in asking you for a date?”

“No. He just said to come. He thought I might enjoy it.”

“What did you say?”

“I’d have to ask.”

A troubled frown creased her mother’s brow. “What about dinner?”

“Christopher was pleading for pizza earlier.”

Her mother drove, eyes straight forward. “I’d rather you didn’t go.”

Dawn bristled. “Why not?” Christopher could do anything he wanted, but she asked for something and the answer was no?

“You have a church.”

“So does Christopher, but that didn’t stop you from signing him up for VBS at Cornerstone.”

“Because Mitch’s church doesn’t have one.”

“It doesn’t have a youth group either.”

“VBS only last three more days, Dawn.”

“I’m not asking if I can join the church, Mom. I just want to see what youth group is like. I’d like to hang out with kids my own age, Christian kids.”

“Let me think about it.”

Dawn wanted to push it, but her mother asked Christopher how his morning had gone; and Christopher being Christopher jabbered about kids he’d met, how nice Mrs. Preston was, the games he played during breaks. He was still talking when Mom turned off onto the country road toward home. He started in on his cool art project, then let out a loud groaning wail. Slamming on the brakes, Mom swerved to the side of the road. She swung around, face white. “What’s wrong? What’s the matter?”

“I forgot my burning bush!”