House Church Talk - a new short story

[jim sutton]

Behind the Closet Door

This is what happened:

"There are tables in my closet," the child was saying. "Big, long tables, all 
piled up high with some kind of stuff."

The child's mother, Linda, still almost asleep and hoping to return to that 
gentle bliss completely in a moment, answered, "That's alright, Honey. It was 
just a dream. You don't have room in your closet for tables."

But the young child was not consoled. She was crying, her eyes still fixed on 
the closet door, which was slightly ajar. "It wasn't a dream. I saw them. I 
saw all the people walking around the tables. I saw the mountains and the sky. 
I saw it all."

Linda heard little of what the child was saying. Sitting on the edge of the 
bed in the warm semi-darkness of her daughter's small bedroom, she kept 
dozing, her head drooping downward, even as she tried to hold and comfort her 
child.

But then she heard a small sound, a slight creaking of the closet door behind 
her. Adrenaline shot throughout her entire body. The murky fog of interrupted 
sleep was instantly and forcefully driven from her mind, leaving a dull throb 
in her head.

Linda looked down at her daughter's face, which was still a mask of tears and 
night terror. She shifted herself on the bed, so that she could see the closet 
behind her. Slowly she turned, not knowing what to expect. In the shadows of 
the room, Linda could see the closet door. It was still open only a little. 
Nothing was moving, and she heard no other sounds.

But everything inside of her told her to take her child and get out of the 
room, right now. Her heart pounded inside her chest, and she tried to control 
her fear. She did not want to add to the torment her daughter was already 
feeling. She tried to think clearly of the best course of action.

"Come on, Honey," she said quietly to the child. She stood up and reached for 
the girl. "Let's go into Mommy's room. You can sleep in my bed for the rest of 
the night."

Linda was about to lift her daughter from the bed when she very clearly heard 
another small pop of one of the dry hinges on the closet door. It was followed 
by a short creaking. Turning her head, she saw the closet door move. She saw 
it with her own eyes. It had clearly opened about another inch.

Momentarily frozen by the experience, the mother now stood, half bent over her 
child's bed, staring at the closet door. What if someone has broken into the 
house? And with Tom gone for another three days... What if someone means to 
harm us? What if...

Resolutely, the young woman stood up straight, lifting her small daughter up 
and onto her left hip. Silencing her fears, she determined to know what or who 
was in the small closet.

to read the rest of this short story, visit the following page:

http://www.jimsdesk.com/stories/doorway.htm


Jim