Ruby's Slippers Read Online Free PDF Page B

to it, catch my breath. The overhanging roof tries to shelter me, but the slanting rain stings my exposed skin. I fumble with the keys, unlock the bolt, and fall into the house.
    “Otto!” My voice sounds hoarse. “Where are you, boy?”
    The wind whistles, moans, slaps at the house. The shutters tremble. There’s a whoosh , pop , whoosh , pop as something slides and smacks the roof. A rumbling fills the air. It sounds like I’m in a tin can and being shaken like a marble.
    “Otto!” I charge through the rooms, search his hiding places. Behind the recliner. Under the kitchen table. Finally, dropping to my knees, I find him huddled in a tiny ball under the bed. He’s shaking so badly his teeth chatter. His little body spasms as fear rocks through him. “Come here. Hurry, Otto!”
    But he won’t budge. His heavy brows hide his eyes in dark shadows. I stretch my arm out, my fingers barely grazing his side. The bed is too low for me to slide under, so I try again, stretching my arm as far as I can. The bed frame cuts into my shoulder. Finally I curl my fingers around his front leg and tug him toward me. He pulls back, fighting me.
    Behind me, a window shatters. I duck and shield my head. Glass flies and an unseen hand flies through the room, knocking over pictures, tables, chairs. With a final tug I pull Otto from beneath the bed, press him against my chest, and start to rise.
    Thunk! The sound explodes in my head.
    Black clouds snuff out my vision, and I feel myself falling, falling, falling.
    * * *
    IT’S A SWIRLING world, everything spinning out of control around me. It feels as if the house itself has been pickedup and is being spun like a top. But I remain still. I can’t seem to raise a hand or lift a finger.
    Scratching, wavering sounds twitch around me. I can’t grab hold of or understand the words, if they are such.
    It’s as if I’m in the eye of chaos and everything else orbits around me. I watch it all as if on a giant movie screen. My truck skids past, its bumper crunched, the side caved in, the yellow paint caked with dirt. Otto runs in circles, racing around, barking. I call after him, but he doesn’t listen, doesn’t mind. Then there’s Momma.
    “Momma!” I cry out.
    She simply waves and goes on, busy as if on an important errand. Swinging on her arm is a basket of Easter eggs, a reminder of things I have yet to do for the hunt on the town square. Then Abby blows past in a bright red convertible, her long hair trailing behind. She cackles at the wind. Craig hobbles past me too. Neither seems to notice me. And I am left behind. Alone.
    Then it all starts again, everyone coming around for another lap. When I try to call out, no one hears. They’re busy doing their own thing. It’s as if my life has stopped and their lives have gone on. I feel tired just watching them. Their motion exhausts me.
    I’m so very, very tired.
    Still there is no rest, no comfort, no peace.

Chapter Four
    Popcorn. The smell of buttery popcorn peels back layer after layer of darkness, like shucking corn one section at a time. The odor is wispy like corn silk, difficult to grasp or make sense of. But I follow the scent, sniffing, feeling a deep emptiness in the pit of my stomach.
    There’s movement. A grayness. But a heavy weight presses me down, pulls me back. I’m certain that even one eyelash would be too heavy to lift, so I burrow back into sleep.
    * * *
    SWEET, TENDER VOICES—the voices of children— penetrate the cloud that enfolds me within its dark crevices. The voices seem far away, just out of reach. For a moment they grow stronger, as though marching toward me.
    The words punch out, “My God … big, strong, mighty!” It’s a song I recognize from teaching Sunday school. “There’s nothing my God cannot do” —the voices become shrill on the final notes— “for you!”
    My skin contracts. My ears vibrate. I try to pull inward once more, but the safe cocoon has disappeared. My eyelids flutter and