ATOP Chapter Thirty

It was late. Shouldn't Emma be home by now? How long did babies take to be born, anyhow? Josh had been supportive of Emma taking the position of local midwife... but now he desperately wished she hadn't. He shoved the last of the meatloaf back in the fridge. He hadn't eaten much... didn't really feel like eating. 

The clock was slowly inching towards ten o'clock. Josh paced a few circles round the kitchen, and then tried it again, cartwheeling. And then he tried backflips, but something snapped funny and he went down like a ton of bricks.

For a moment he lay still on the wooden floor, staring up at the ceiling with a dazed expression. His side was aching and he grimaced, pressing his hand against the pain. Nothing more than a flare-up of the old wounds... it had happened before. 

Rather ungracefully, he dragged himself back to his feet and grimaced again. The house was so miserably quiet. He walked to the back door, his footsteps echoing eerily, and peered out into the night. In the distance, a dog was barking... and a coyote began to howl. Between the two of them, they managed a horrible duet. Josh shuddered.

The sky was a dark, dark navy... almost black... punctured with the twinkling light of stars and a yellowed crescent moon. Navy... Josh tried to focus on the navy. He shut out the thought of orange and red streaked across the sky, choked with billowing columns of black smoke. 

An owl hooted and the coyote cried again. Another thing to focus on... a desperate attempt to block the echo of gunfire in his head. 

For a long, long moment Josh stood on the back steps, clutching the railing till his knuckles were white, as he fought a raging battle inside of himself. How he hated being alone... the thought of high dirt walls around him and a raging, fiery sky above... surrounded by frightened comrades but unable to exchange a single word with any of them, for fear of getting his head shot off...

Alone in a hole in the ground. He hated the very thought of it. Could man go any lower than he had? Sitting alone and frozen and filthy and terrified... In a hole in the ground... like a trapped rat. Waiting to die.

Why wasn't Emma home already? She had said she would likely be home by ten, if everything went well...

But she had also said she might have to stay the night, if the baby didn't come on time... or if there were complications... 

A whole night alone. Fear curdled in the pit of his stomach. Irrational fear. Josh tossed his head and laughed aloud at himself. The laugh echoed in the night, sending shivers down his spine. He tried another laugh. It was even worse.

And without another thought, he took off, running wildly through the night at top speed, towards the cabin they had built for Rob and Myra that fall, in between harvesting. Light and human voices and kind smiles... that was what he needed. Desperately so. 

But as he approached the front door of the cabin, his steps slowed and his face flamed. What was he, a child to go running to his mama because he was... afraid of the dark? Attempting to look perfectly calm, he cleared his throat, clenched his fists, and knocked on the door.

He would have hated to admit how relieved he was when it opened to reveal the comfort of Myra's smile.

"Josh! You're all out of breath... are you all right? Everything okay at home?" Her smile changed rapidly to consternation as she took in the look on his face.

"Nah... everything's fine," Josh laughed unconvincingly and shrugged. "It was just... awful quiet... Emma isn't home yet... thought I'd run down and see you guys before bed."

"Well..." Myra ushered him into the warmth and the light, noting his sigh of relief. "Come on in and have some cookies... Dad's gone and fallen asleep on the couch, but if you wake him up, he just might be up for a game of checkers."

"Aw, I won't stay long... I should be getting back to wait for Emma... but... cookies?" Josh grinned hopefully and Myra laughed.

Josh stayed more than an hour. And when he finally left, just stepping out the front door into the dark, alone again... was worse than it had been before. Back to his empty house he trudged, dragging his steps. The gunfire grew louder and the sky seemed alive with fire. He clapped his hands over his ears in attempt to block the noise of exploding shells and screams of dying men... but it only grew louder. 

He ran again, and was inside, slamming the door before he even realized he was home. In moments he had turned on every light in the house and had the radio on as loud as it could possibly go. 

When Emma turned into the lane just after midnight, she was startled to hear the music of Glen Miller's orchestra practically shaking the trees before she even saw the house. The lights were ablaze and the racket was deafening. She ran to the house, throwing the door open wide just in time to catch the tail end of a cartwheel and Josh whirled to face her, his face white and his eyes big as saucers. He stood still a moment, trembling, his hand pressed to his aching side... and then he stumbled forward, into her startled arms.

"What's the matter with you, Scout?" Emma managed to say, holding him tight in alarm. He sighed shudderingly, pulling her close against him and closing his eyes tight.

"Man, am I glad you're back... the war's followed me home, Em... and you're the only person who makes it go away..."