T he sun had set behind the mountains, though the moon hadn’t risen yet. Dorothy bent near a lantern as she tried to read Ben Hur . Despite the warming days, the evenings still turned chilly, and Dorothy wrapped her mother’s shawl more closely, as the ever-open window caused a shiver. She turned the page, nearly ripping it from the binding, when a scream pierced the night air.
Dorothy knew the scream of a cottontail, but the unearthly sound echoing across the desert and through the window could have startled anyone. The rabbit continued and Dorothy shivered again, though not from the cold.
Poor thing…
She grit her teeth, trying to focus on Judah Ben Hur and his problems, not her own. Her father continued his carving in silence.
The words swam before her eyes, as the cottontail paused for only a moment, before breaking into distress once more. Dorothy tried to ignore him, but short of stopping her ears, she could not get away from the sound.
“That rabbit has itself stuck between some cacti, I reckon. A kai-ote would have silenced it by now.”
Her father may have expected a response, as he continued speaking after a moment.
“He’s awful noisy.”
Dorothy looked at him, but the man just kept carving.
The rabbit grew faint, then suddenly broke forth in renewed vigor of terror. Dorothy gave up on the book, watching the crow take shape in her father’s hands instead.
At last, he grunted, eyes still on his carving. “Dorothy, go see what’s ailing that rabbit. The entire desert is going to get distracted listening to that ruckus.”
Dorothy’s gaze jumped from the crow to her father’s face, but the man didn’t seem to take any notice. “I-I’d rather not, Father.”
“We can’t listen to that ruckus all night.”
Dorothy opened her mouth to appeal, but closed it again. She knew it wouldn’t do anything.
She stepped outside with her lantern, the rabbit’s cries growing louder. She couldn’t find him at first, but eventually discovered his whereabouts a short distance from the house.
The rabbit had managed to get stuck between a large rock and the trunk of a mesquite tree. Dorothy set down her lantern as the rabbit threw himself wildly about amidst his screaming.
“It’s all right, little fella. Come on, let me help you.”
The rabbit froze at the sound of her voice, his cries growing softer. Dorothy struggled to unwedge him, talking soothingly all the while. The rabbit only pulled against her once, screaming loudly when he did, while she dug out his leg, but the second that she freed him, the creature took off across the desert.
Dorothy picked up her lantern and stood. She sighed, and a twig snapped. Dorothy froze. She didn’t know whether to look around or simply hurry back inside.
Another snap.
Her heart pounding, Dorothy began walking toward the house.
It’s probably nothing. It could be nothing.
She tried to be certain of her surroundings in the darkness. The night disoriented her, and she stopped, unwilling to go too far in the wrong direction.
A laugh, low and terrifying, echoed somewhere nearby. Dorothy’s heart stopped, then with a lurch, began pounding like a stampede of horses. The laughed repeated, a second one joining in.
Without any more thought, Dorothy started running. She spotted the pale light emanating from her father’s lantern in the shack, nearly tripping on rocks and brush in her hurry to reach it.
Swinging open the door, Dorothy leapt into the room, slamming it closed behind her. She leaned against the rough wood, panting hard.
“Kai-ote chasing you?” Despite his words, her father barely gave her a glance.
Dorothy shook her head rapidly. “N-no. Father…S-someone has been following me whenever I leave the shack. I don’t know who or why. I-I just heard him.”
Her father eyed his crow. “I see. Did you get that rabbit loose?”
Still panting, Dorothy lost the ability to speak for nearly a full minute. “D-did you heard what I told you, Father?”
He nodded, whittling at the wings of his crow. “I heard you. Did you free that rabbit?”
Dorothy swallowed, her hands beginning to shake. She straightened to her full height. “Y-yes, sir. The rabbit is free.”
“Good.” He nodded. “No one wants to hear that thing scream all night.”
Dorothy set the lantern on the table near her book. She tried to return to the world that she had left but couldn’t. With a sigh, she closed the cover, escaping to her bedroom.
Only when she lay down in the darkness did she hear the scuffling sounds outside her window that alerted her to the unknown guard.
Lord, wouldst Thou protect me? She shivered deeper beneath the bedclothes. Artie’s prayer repeated itself in her mind for an unknown reason. Protect me, I pray Thee, and grant that I will not fear. That I can rest safely in Thy protection. As the psalmist says, “though I walk in the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I will fear no evil for Thou art with me…”
She heard another sound and stifled a sob.
Be Thou with me. Grant that I will rest in Thy assurance…And that I will fully believe it.