The Lost and Found

Chapter 4 - Getting into Routine

He stepped out of the room to go to the supper table when he heard the faint sound of someone softly crying. He followed the sound to a door at the end of the hall. Finding it slightly ajar, he opened it a bit further to find a young girl of about ten kneeling before her bed in prayer. He gently rapped on the door.

She jumped up at the sound of his knock and stared at the stranger that stood in her doorway. Her shock of being caught crying melted away into disbelieving joy in her eyes. "You've come!" she exclaimed, running to embrace him. "I knew you'd come!" He patted her on the back, not really sure what she was meaning. A sigh of relief ran through him. She knew him; which meant he had to know her. Things had to start making sense now. She pulled back to show him a big smile. "I've been waiting all day."

It was the same girl from the photo in his chest. Older maybe, but she looked the same nonetheless. Her hair fell across her shoulders in loose curls just as in the photograph; the same innocence displayed in her face. This girl before him had brown eyes instead of blue; but, that was really the only difference. Sisters maybe? He'd have to ask her. Her eyes were just as haunting, though, as he noted a deep sadness in them. Dark circles shadowed her otherwise bright young face. She was petite and frail looking. Her skin was grayish white in the sunlight; only her hair carried a vibrant color of golden yellow. John wondered if she wasn't sick. "Have I been gone long?" he asked, trying to gain some memory of this place that seemed so strange, yet so familiar.

"I've been waiting for you to come. Old Sam said you'd come for us. I got something for you." She bounded off to her cedar chest to pull out the gift she had been saving for him. "I made it myself." She held the small box out for him. "I made it just for you as a 'thank you' for coming."

Cautiously he took the gift, confused by her statement. "Thank you," he said as he sat down on her bed. He carefully opened the package as she watched in anticipation of his reaction. Beneath the enclosed tissue paper he found a simple cross made of soap. It was crude carving at best, but it was apparent that she had worked long and hard at carving it. "It's really beautiful. Thank you for this."

"Do you really like it?"

"Yes, I do. It's very nice. It must have taken you a long time to make it."

"Old Sam showed me how to carve soap when I first got here this morning. He's really nice."

"He certainly seems to be."

"Oh he is. And he said you'd come for us." She sighed with relief and sat beside him, still smiling. "Old Sam said you'd come," she repeated. "Now you can take me home." She wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him a hug in appreciation.

"I'm not sure what you mean." He didn't even know where he lived, let alone this little girl.

"Don't you know?" she asked as her smile faded. "You have to know. Don't you know me?" She flung her arms around him again and began to weep. "Please say you know who I am. I've been waiting all day for you."

"I... I'm... I'm afraid I don't think I remember."

"You have to. You just have to." Her voice became shrill behind heavy sobs. "You have to."

"Mary, it's time for supper now." John looked up to find Old Sam standing in the doorway. His voice was slow and calming to the little girl, though she tried to protest with a frown.

She stood before him sucking her lip in an effort to ebb her tears. "He's come, sir. Just like you said he would. But he doesn't know me like you said he would. Why doesn't he remember? Why doesn't he know me?"

"Hush now, child. Supper first, questions later."

She wiped her tears from her cheeks. "Yes, sir." She curtsied before him and then to John and left the men in her room.