Читать книгу The Reincarnation of Clara - Kevin J. Todeschi - Страница 27

“You know, I had been the one responsible for that child. I was just the right age to help take care of her. I got to dress her for Sunday service, struggling with those hook buttonholes that Mama used to sew on our clothing. Even before that incident with the kitten, I had long wanted a child of my own . . . and Sara had finally come along. We were very close.

“Looking sideways that day, I suddenly knew something I didn’t want to know—little Sara was going to die.”

Clara Cabot wiped a tear from her eye, and Joan reached inside of her purse to get a Kleenex for her aunt. Even through her tears, Clara couldn’t help but notice several crumpled packages of cigarettes.

“Don’t worry,” Joan reassured her, “I haven’t been smoking on account of the baby. Are you going to be okay?”

Clara nodded, “You know, we had a little hand-me-down tea set, and Sara and I would often have a tea party, just sitting, and laughing, and being there together in the house. This is the child that came into my life. And it felt very much like she was mine. When she died, well, it just devastated all of us.

“That summer Sara was four, she started complaining about her stomach hurting. It hurt her so bad, she was crying. Mama tried ginger ale, and castor oil and mustard packs, and whatnot. Who was to know that her crying had something to do with an appendix—I had never even heard of such a thing. Sara cried and cried, and Mama was at her wit’s end. Finally, Papa fetched the doctor from Malad. It was the doctor who discovered that Sara’s appendix had ruptured. It was removed but it was too late.”

“I’m so sorry.” Joan offered another Kleenex but Clara waved it aside. “It must have been hard never seeing Sara again.”

Clara seemed surprised, “Oh, I saw her a few times after she died.”

“What!?”

Clara smiled. “I saw her a few times.”