Chapter 13
Ben busied himself putting away the food. He fixed some more soup and took it over to the woman. She was lying on her back and staring at the ceiling. There were tears in her eyes and she did not notice him standing next to the bed. She jumped when he spoke.
"Could you get some more soup down? We have to get some nourishment into you. After you eat, I'll fix Susan something and let you sleep. By the way, what's your name?"
"My name is Emma. I don't know if I can eat anything. I'll try."
She finished a half a cup of soup before she pushed him away and lay back down.
"Emma, I have to check your feet and legs and hands. If they are not getting better, we'll have to get you to the hospital."
He pulled the sheet up from the bottom and started to check her feeling in her feet and legs and checked for any sign of damage to the skin. He was encouraged to find that she had feeling in her feet and legs and that there seemed to be no damage to her hands. Her hands were very small and soft. She had never had to do much physical labor in her life. He covered her back up and stood up.
"Everything looks like it's healing fine. It looks like we got you here just in time. I think that in a couple of days you can be on your way home. Is there anyone that you would like me to contact?"
She didn't answer and he looked at her and saw that she had fallen asleep. He made sure that she was covered and went to the wood stove and put some wood on the fire. He cracked the damper open a bit more than usual to make the room warmer for the woman.
The child was "reading" the comic books. She was telling the story on the pages as she saw it. He smiled and knew that the author's version was much different than Susan's version.
"Would you like something to eat?"
"Yes, grilled cheese. I like grilled cheese. Mommy can't fix grilled cheese because we don't have a grilled cheese maker. We eat at the soup kitchen. They have old food and it don't taste good. And everybody stinks there."
Ben smiled and turned to make a grilled cheese for her on the two-burner hotplate the he had purchased. These modern kids were something else. He had never had much to do with children over the years. He was always too busy trying to be invisible or moving to another town.
The grilled cheese sandwich was done shortly and he set it on the table to cool. When it had cooled enough for her, he set her at the table and put the sandwich in front of her. He poured a glass of milk for her and sat at the table while she ate her sandwich. She finished it quickly and asked for another.
She started talking after she had finished her second sandwich. Telling him about their big house and all her dolls and that her Daddy went to heaven and that a bad man won't give her Mommy her money. He listened raptly while she rambled on from one subject to another. He wondered where her "big house" was now.
Ben got up and started to clean up the dishes and put the rest of Emma's soup in the refrigerator. He suddenly remembered that he hadn't heard Susan talking for a while and turned to make sure that she hadn't gotten into something. She was sitting at the table and had laid her head in her arms and fallen asleep. He smiled and laid her on the bed on the floor that he had prepared for her the evening before and covered her up. She curled into a ball and slept as only children can. He looked at her and wished that his sleep were as peaceful. But he knew that it would never be peaceful. His enemy was always there in his dreams, taunting him.
He sat in the chair and closed his eyes to rest them for a minute. That face crept into his sleep again. Grinning and taunting him and telling him that he would never be free of his enemy. He woke and jumped up. He was drenched in sweat as he often was after one of the dreams. He was so tired. It was not like a fatigue that humans generally experience. His soul was exhausted and he knew that it would only get worse.
He looked around the room. The woman was staring at him. He glanced at Susan and saw that she was still asleep. He went over to the woman.
"Would you like something to eat? I fixed Susan a grilled cheese. I'm sure your getting tired of soup."
She shook her head and patted the bed for him to sit down.
"Emma, what has happened to you and Susan? She told me that her father went to heaven and that she has a big house and a lot of dolls. She also told me that you eat in the soup kitchen. Are you homeless? What has happened?"
She started to cry and she put her hand up to get him to give her a minute to collect herself. She turned to him and looked at him for a minute before she started to tell him her story.
"About eighteen months ago, my husband died in a construction accident. We had a house that had belonged to his mother and father. After they passed away, we moved into the house, fixed it up and were living very comfortably. My husband didn't have a will. We never thought about having a will drawn up, we were both young. The court appointed a lawyer to be the executor of my husband's estate. I thought that everything would be Ok. The house was paid off and we didn't have too many bills. The lawyer made me move out of the house and he sold it and everything that we owned and put the money in the bank until the will is probated. I don't have any family and I had no place to go. We became homeless."
"Emma, when will the will be probated. In eighteen months, with you and Susan being the only heirs, everything should be settled. Why did you have to move out of your house? Didn't you have joint-tenancy?"
She started to cry harder, "After my husbands parents died, we just took over the house. We didn't bother to change the deed over. When my husband died, I just figured that we could just keep living there. About a week after my husband died, a lawyer knocked on our door and told me that he had been appointed executor of my husband's estate. I found out later that he had read about my husband's accident in the paper and had himself appointed executor. He's pretty well known and I'm sure he used his political connections to get his appointment. Someone told me that he reads the death notices and checks to see if a will is on file. If not, he gets himself appointed executor of the estate and gets ten percent plus lawyer fees. Every time I called the lawyer to check on when the estate would be settled he either put me off or he wasn't available or he yelled at me for bothering him. He told me that every time that I called him or bothered him, it was another $150 off of the estate. He said that I would be lucky to windup with enough to get out of town. He made us move because he said that the law required him to liquidate the assets of my husband's estate. He sold everything that we owned except our clothes. I haven't any money and the lawyer even refuses to see me now."
Ben started to shake. His mind started racing, trying to find the mind of the man who had caused this woman so much pain. A plate started shaking on the table and it started to spin in slow arcs. His mind could not find the lawyer. He would have to get closer to the man to get into his head. He rarely tried to use his mental powers; it seemed to be so unholy. He was not sure if the powers came from God or Satan.
Ben calmed down and the plate settled onto the table and was quiet. Ben had learned a few tricks with his mind over the years.
He looked at Emma. She was looking at him with fear in her eyes.
"How did you do that?"
He patted her hand, "That was just a truck going past here. We'll have to talk some more about this lawyer. I know a few things about the law and I might be able to help you. So I guess that you have no place to go for a while. If you want, you and Susan can stay here until you find a place."
"Well you know my story, now tell me about Ben. Who are you and why are you living here in this part of town. Your what-in your mid-thirties? You have some education, that's obvious. What's your story?"
Ben stood up, "It's a long, sad story and I'm sure that you don't want to hear about a foolish man who let his ego run away with him. I would be ashamed to have to tell you my story. It's not pretty."
"Ben, what's your last name?"
"It's been so long since I used my last name that I have to think. My last name is Cashton."
Ben decided to go out and bring back some take-out food for them. He was not that good a cook. There was never a reason to learn how to be a good cook. It was just himself to worry about. He rarely went to any fast-food places. There were too many people there.
"I'm going to go down the street and pick up some fried chicken. There's a KFC about six blocks down the street. Do you need anything else while I'm gone."
She shook her head no and he left to pick up the chicken. Susan was still asleep.
When he returned with a bucket of fried chicken Emma was just coming out of the bathroom. She had a blanket around her and stopped when she saw Ben.
"I just took a quick bath. I took it slow and..." she started to wobble and her eyes went back in her head. She fell against the wall and leaned on it for a few seconds. She dropped the blanket and he saw that the blanket was all she had to cover her.
Ben put the chicken on the table and grabbed her just before she hit the floor. He carried her to the bed and put her in it and covered her up. He watched her for a minute to make sure that she was Ok.
Her eyes fluttered open. It was a moment before she found her voice, "I guess I pushed it a little. I thought I was stronger."
Susan woke up when she heard her mother. Ben sat her at the table and put two pieces of chicken on a plate for her and stuck a straw in a cup of soda. The little girl was grinning and chattering. He figured that he had made a good choice with the chicken.
He took several pieces of chicken and pulled the meat off of the bone and cut the meat into small cubes for Emma. He sat next to her on the bed and fed her slowly. Even though she was still weak, she ate three pieces of chicken before she held up her hand to signify that she had enough.
"Thank you. I'm sorry that we're such a bother to you. You're a good man."
Ben smiled, "I can find people that would dispute that."
"Well Susan loves you. I hope that it doesn't bother you that she calls you Daddy. At that age children think that all adults are either daddies or mommies."
"No it doesn't bother me. She's a beautiful child."