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Authors: F. Paul Wilson
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the truth. I feel your hurt
like my own. I want to go down to that Ingraham place and wring
somebody's neck. But, well, yes, deep down inside some part of me
is... relieved."
Over the past couple of years Quinn
had sensed in her mother an unspoken resistance to her dream of
becoming a doctor. Now she felt oddly relieved that it was out in
the open.
"Why...why don't you want me to be a
doctor?"
Mom brought the teapot to the table
and set it on a crocheted potholder between them.
"It's not that I don't want you to be
a doctor—I'd love to see you as a doctor. It's just that I..." She
paused, at a loss for words. "Oh, Quinn, I know you're going to be
thinking this sounds crazy, but I'm worried about your going to
medical school."
Quinn was baffled. "Mom, I've been
away at U. Conn for the past four years and—"
"Oh, it's not the going
away that bothers me. It's just this... feeling I have."
Uh-oh. One of Mom's feelings .
"Sure and I know what you're going to
say, how it makes no sense to let these kind of feelings affect
your life, but I can't help it, Quinn. Especially when the feeling
is this strong."
Quinn shook her head. No use in
arguing. Mom sometimes thought she had premonitions. She called it
"the Sheedy thing." Some turned out true, but plenty of others
didn't. She tended to forget all the ones that didn't, and cling to
the ones that had panned out. Mostly they were just apprehensions,
fears of what might go wrong. She almost never had premonitions of
anything good.
Mom seemed to think this sort of sixth
sense ran in the family. If it did, it clearly was one more useful
gene Quinn had missed out on. She wished she could have seen that
letter coming. She would have prepared herself better.
Watching Mom pour the tea, she decided
to play along, just this once.
"What's it like, this bad feeling
about med school?"
"Nothing specific." Her eyes lost
their focus for a moment. "Just a feeling that you'll never come
back."
Is that it? Quinn thought. She's
afraid of losing me forever to some faraway medical
center?
"Mom, if you think I'll ever forget
you and Dad or turn my back—"
"No, dear. It's not that sort of
thing. I have this feeling you'll be in danger there."
"But what danger could I possibly be
in?"
"I don't know. But you remember what
happened with your Aunt Sandra, don't you?"
Oh, boy. Aunt Sandra. Mom's older
sister. The two of them had been teenagers when the Sheedy family
came over from Ireland. Aunt Sandra was always having run-ins with
"the Sheedy thing."
"Of course." Quinn had heard this
story a thousand times. "But—"
"She awoke one night and saw this
light in the hall outside her bedroom..."
Mom wasn't going to be stopped, so
Quinn leaned back and let her go.
"...The glow got brighter
and brighter, and then she saw it: a glowing hand, and clutched in
that hand was a glowing knife. It glided past her bedroom door and
disappeared down the hall. Three nights in a row she saw it. The
third night she tried to wake your uncle Evan but he was sound
asleep, so she got up alone and followed the glowing arm with the
knife down the hall. It glided past your cousin Kathy's room and
went straight to your cousin Bob's, passed right through the oak
door. She rushed inside and saw it poised over Bob's bed. And as
she watched, it plunged the knife blade into Bob's stomach. She
screamed and that woke everybody up. But the hand was gone as if it
had never been. Your uncle Evan thought she was going crazy, and
even Bob and Kathy were getting worried about her." As she always
did, Mom paused here for effect. "But the next day, your cousin Bob
was rushed to the hospital and taken to surgery where he had to
go under the surgeon's knife for a
ruptured appendix. " Another pause, this
time accompanied by a meaningful stare. "Thank the Lord everything
turned out okay, but after that no one ever doubted your Aunt
Sandra when she had one of her premonitions."
Silly, but the story yet again gave
Quinn a chill. The
like my own. I want to go down to that Ingraham place and wring
somebody's neck. But, well, yes, deep down inside some part of me
is... relieved."
Over the past couple of years Quinn
had sensed in her mother an unspoken resistance to her dream of
becoming a doctor. Now she felt oddly relieved that it was out in
the open.
"Why...why don't you want me to be a
doctor?"
Mom brought the teapot to the table
and set it on a crocheted potholder between them.
"It's not that I don't want you to be
a doctor—I'd love to see you as a doctor. It's just that I..." She
paused, at a loss for words. "Oh, Quinn, I know you're going to be
thinking this sounds crazy, but I'm worried about your going to
medical school."
Quinn was baffled. "Mom, I've been
away at U. Conn for the past four years and—"
"Oh, it's not the going
away that bothers me. It's just this... feeling I have."
Uh-oh. One of Mom's feelings .
"Sure and I know what you're going to
say, how it makes no sense to let these kind of feelings affect
your life, but I can't help it, Quinn. Especially when the feeling
is this strong."
Quinn shook her head. No use in
arguing. Mom sometimes thought she had premonitions. She called it
"the Sheedy thing." Some turned out true, but plenty of others
didn't. She tended to forget all the ones that didn't, and cling to
the ones that had panned out. Mostly they were just apprehensions,
fears of what might go wrong. She almost never had premonitions of
anything good.
Mom seemed to think this sort of sixth
sense ran in the family. If it did, it clearly was one more useful
gene Quinn had missed out on. She wished she could have seen that
letter coming. She would have prepared herself better.
Watching Mom pour the tea, she decided
to play along, just this once.
"What's it like, this bad feeling
about med school?"
"Nothing specific." Her eyes lost
their focus for a moment. "Just a feeling that you'll never come
back."
Is that it? Quinn thought. She's
afraid of losing me forever to some faraway medical
center?
"Mom, if you think I'll ever forget
you and Dad or turn my back—"
"No, dear. It's not that sort of
thing. I have this feeling you'll be in danger there."
"But what danger could I possibly be
in?"
"I don't know. But you remember what
happened with your Aunt Sandra, don't you?"
Oh, boy. Aunt Sandra. Mom's older
sister. The two of them had been teenagers when the Sheedy family
came over from Ireland. Aunt Sandra was always having run-ins with
"the Sheedy thing."
"Of course." Quinn had heard this
story a thousand times. "But—"
"She awoke one night and saw this
light in the hall outside her bedroom..."
Mom wasn't going to be stopped, so
Quinn leaned back and let her go.
"...The glow got brighter
and brighter, and then she saw it: a glowing hand, and clutched in
that hand was a glowing knife. It glided past her bedroom door and
disappeared down the hall. Three nights in a row she saw it. The
third night she tried to wake your uncle Evan but he was sound
asleep, so she got up alone and followed the glowing arm with the
knife down the hall. It glided past your cousin Kathy's room and
went straight to your cousin Bob's, passed right through the oak
door. She rushed inside and saw it poised over Bob's bed. And as
she watched, it plunged the knife blade into Bob's stomach. She
screamed and that woke everybody up. But the hand was gone as if it
had never been. Your uncle Evan thought she was going crazy, and
even Bob and Kathy were getting worried about her." As she always
did, Mom paused here for effect. "But the next day, your cousin Bob
was rushed to the hospital and taken to surgery where he had to
go under the surgeon's knife for a
ruptured appendix. " Another pause, this
time accompanied by a meaningful stare. "Thank the Lord everything
turned out okay, but after that no one ever doubted your Aunt
Sandra when she had one of her premonitions."
Silly, but the story yet again gave
Quinn a chill. The
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