Girl in the Shadows (Shadows 2)

Prologue

. Most people don't think about the way night falls around them. They go along their merry way and suddenly think, Oh, it's dark outside. They are truly unaware of how the shadows thicken and begin to ooze toward each other, merging, melding, clasping their invisible hands together to unite and flow forward to surround us. They rarely notice that the birds have retreated to their quiet places within the inky corners of the forest, nesting calmly with patience and optimism. Birds don't suffer through nightmares as I often do. They believe the sun will always return and the clouds will eventually be gone. All that they know, they have inherited. They do not separate their knowledge from themselves. It is who or what they are and they are comfortable with all of it. You can see their contentment and their confidence in the way they fly.

I envy them for that, for their comfort but mostly for their self-assurance, their wonderful trust in themselves and in the promises Nature makes, whether it is the promise of the seasons, the promise of the rain, or the promise of the sun itself. They glide and slice through their day, carving a world of beauty for themselves.

Mrs. Westington said that even though we are the more complex and the higher form of life for which all of this supposedly has been created, we still covet the simplicity that animals, that even insects enjoy. Their lives are so uncomplicated.

"They don't need the guidance of the Ten Commandments in order to avoid sin," she said. "But," I asked. "are they capable of real

happiness or do they just plod along in a mechanical

manner? Do they have ambitions? Do they dream and

hope? Do birds, rabbits, foxes, and snakes smile? Do

they really ever experience rapture, ecstasy.

contentment?"

"Oh. I don't know if they do or if it even

matters. More important," Mrs. Westington replied.

"you should ask, do we? We have our moments, even

our days," she said. "but it doesn't last. Before long,

we're envious of others or we're upset with someone

we love or we're bored, disgusted, and disappointed.

Notice the coming of night?' she asked when I'd

mentioned my thought, punctuating her reply with her

tiny, coughlike laugh. "Most of us don't even notice

the day, much less stop to smell the roses or look up

at the stars in awe of their dazzling beauty. My husband was oblivious like that. He never stopped to enjoy what he had. He was always in pursuit of something more and it was never enough. I wonder if

he found enough in the grave."

Sometimes for hours. I listened to her ramble

on, moving from one topic to the next, dropping her