Page 2 of A Song in the Dark

Grandmother’s disappointed tears had made Chaisley want to cry herself. A party just wouldn’t be the same without the one grandparent she’d ever known, who’d lived with them since she was a baby.

She sighed and looked at the sparkly lights outside and the people dressed in their finery.

She loved watching out the window as they drove to the city in their motor car.

But tonight, her mind drifted back to the shiny Steinway Grand sitting in the new music room.

The lavish wing of the home built for her .

And her music. A laugh bubbled up inside her and escaped once again. What a joyous day.

But as the world slid by the car’s window, Father’s words from earlier drifted back into her mind. Did she really read too many books? Didn’t every child read books? Just because she enjoyed reading and the music that played in her mind—that didn’t make her odd, did it?

The car hit a bump in the road, and Chaisley’s forehead banged into the window. She rubbed at the smarting spot.

“You’d better lean back, Chais.” Father grinned and shook his head at her.

She rubbed one last time. Every time they drove to the city, the same thing happened.

She’d hit her head on the glass while peering out the window, Father would suggest she lean back, and she would obey and gaze out the window some more.

But it seemed her forehead always inched back to where she could enjoy the cool feel of the glass against her skin.

Mum moved to the seat next to her father and took his hand. The special smiles they shared together always made Chaisley feel warm and protected.

A terrible screaming punctured her happy bubble and filled the car. Air-raid sirens!

All the air in Chaisley’s lungs whooshed out as she screamed. She closed her eyes tight—wait... what was that sound?

The roar of airplane engines.

Her eyes popped open and she saw Father’s eyes were wide. “Turn the car around! Now!”

The earth rumbled beneath them and the car shook. The blast was so loud that Chaisley cupped her hands over her ears to stop the ringing.

“Turn around !” Father’s mouth shaped the same command, though the ringing and roar all around her drowned out his voice.

Gerard cranked the steering wheel, and Dad pulled Mum under his arm. He waved Chaisley closer, but they were so far away. The small space between their seats turned into a chasm as she felt frozen in place.

A bright light from the other side of the car made her snap her gaze to the window.

What was that? It was coming fast. Getting brighter and brighter ...

With a sharp inhale, her hands fell to her sides and she stared as time seemed to slow down.

Mum screamed. Father grabbed for Chaisley and her mum, but his hands met air as they jostled around inside the car. An awful new sound filled her ears—screeching, screaming metal. Chaisley cried out, reached for her father, and saw something in his eyes she’d never seen before.

Fear.

She turned to Mum just in time to see her head smash against the window and bounce back. Her eyes shut. Blood trickled down her face.

“Oh God, no! Please ... save us!” Father’s words jerked Chaisley’s eyes off her mother.

Chaisley swung her gaze to follow his. The lights—and whatever was behind them—were pushing them toward a massive stone wall.

She screamed and tried to reach for Father again. If she could get to him, she’d be safe.

But he was too far away.

They slammed into the wall.

The impact threw Chaisley from her seat.

Glass shattered.

The car crunched.

Her father shouted her name.

Three months later

“So there’s no hope?” Grandmother’s whispered words from somewhere across the room traveled over the length of Chaisley’s body like a tiny wisp of wind.

The last remnants of sleep disappeared and she rubbed at her face.

A man sighed. “There’s plenty of hope for her life now that all her other wounds have had time to mend.

” She recognized the voice—her father’s best friend.

The only doctor she’d ever known. “But the tiny glass shards did too much damage to her eyes. I’m sorry.

Her skin has healed, yes. You can barely tell the places she had stitches.

Her broken bones have mended. I know you want her to be exactly like she was before.

Perfect in appearance and...” He paused.

A deep breath. “You’d like her to be perfect with all her senses intact.

But God has given us a different path. She’s young and strong and needs to know the truth.

” Footsteps brushed the carpet. An all-too-familiar sound now. “Chaisley. Can you hear me?”

Her dry throat burned as she opened her mouth. “Yes, Dr. G.”

“Do you understand what is going on?” The scent of peppermint whirled around her with his words.

“Yes.” Her own words cracked. She swallowed. “I can’t see. I won’t ever be able to see again.” The words were mere facts. She’d had three long months with the dark to understand them. They didn’t hurt. Not anymore.

Unlike the knowledge that Mother and Father were dead.

“Well, I want to send a new tutor over for you. You need to learn braille and other life skills. There’s no reason you shouldn’t enjoy a very full life.

Your parents would want this for you. We want this for you.

” His tone wasn’t harsh, but it sounded .

.. determined. Funny how everyone’s voice was different now that she could no longer see their faces.

But she could feel what she used to be able to see.

Like dynamics inserted into a piece of music.

Grandmother gasped. “Grafton, don’t you think that’s a little too brash? She’s just a child.”

“Celestia, your son was like a brother to me. You know very well what the will stated. And I’m taking my job very seriously.

Chaisley is like my own daughter, and I won’t see her bedridden.

She is brilliant, talented, and capable and if I have anything to do with it, she will receive every benefit she deserves and live life to the fullest.” His statements were clipped and then he cleared his throat.

The rustling of Grandmother’s dress told Chaisley the older woman had risen. And when Grandmother stood, she meant business. Chaisley chewed on her bottom lip, her ears tuned to every breath, every hint of sound.

“Young man, might I remind you to whom you speak. I understand exactly what the will stated—I aided my son in the writing of it—but remember that we are co-guardians of our dear girl, and I am related by blood. This is my estate. My granddaughter. And I do not appreciate being trampled over by a mere boy who used to build mud pies in my flower gardens, Timothy .” A thud accompanied each word, followed by several thumps at the end to punctuate.

Grandmother didn’t need her cane to assist her in walking, but she said it made her feel more comfortable to carry it. No doubt to help her get her points across.

And the fact that she called him Timothy ... she must really be in a lather.

“There’s no need for reminders of the past.” The doctor’s voice sounded less on the verge of cracking as he chuckled.

Hearing Dr. G talk with Grandmother was almost like hearing Dad’s voice again. Warm but firm. She let out a sigh and snuggled against the pillows.

The doctor continued. “I apologize, ma’am. I truly do. But you can’t keep her sequestered and bedridden. She needs fresh air. She needs to run around. She’s healthy and robust, but she won’t stay that way if you continue to coddle her for fear of losing her as well.”

No one ever scolded Grandmother. Ever. How would she respond?

He cleared his throat again, and Chaisley listened as the footsteps moved away. Possibly to the window? His voice was deeper and quieter as it spanned the expanse of the room. “We have seen amazing things among the blind. Why won’t you allow her to live? Not just live ... thrive.”

Grandmother huffed. The rustle of one of her lace hankies—no doubt—muffled her sniffs.

Amazing how all the sounds were distinguishable now.

Her sure, soft footfalls came toward Chaisley.

The scent of lilac preceded Grandmother’s hand touching her own.

“My dearest, I never wanted you to have to go through any of this. I’m sorry you’ve had to overhear our discussion. But know this—I love you—”

“We both do.” Dr. Grafton’s gentle, firm voice again.

Grandmother cleared her throat. “Would you excuse Grafton and me? I’d like to speak to him downstairs.”

“But ... I want to hear.” Why did her own voice sound so weak and mouse-like? She wanted to tell them that she did want to live ... to thrive.

“I’d like to speak to Dr. Grafton alone.” Grandmother’s tone brooked no argument.

She nodded. “Yes, Grandmother. I’ll be fine.” As soon as Dr. Grafton challenged her grandmother something had shifted inside her.

The pain from her injuries had overshadowed every part of her life but her grief for many weeks. And her body had been so very tired. Then her other senses often became overwhelmed as they took up the slack from her loss of sight.

But to hear him say that she was healing and could live her life encouraged her more than she dared imagine. Today was the first day she had any gumption to do anything other than what she was told.

She wanted to live. Oh, how she desired it!

But the world was a scary place in the dark. Her room was safe. Her bed her little cocoon of comfort.

Tears pricked her eyes. “Be brave, my little munchkin ... God will always be with you.” How could she be brave? She couldn’t see. ... Her parents were gone....

“Be brave...” Father’s words echoed in her head. Whenever she faced something new, he’d say the same phrase. She could hear his voice, clear and strong in her mind. Oh, she never wanted to forget his voice.

A surge of warmth rushed through her body. She would be brave. For Mother and Father.

But as soon as the feeling came, it left.