Julia heard a movement on the bed. The old wooden frame creaked as Alice got up. As always, the girl woke up and went straight into the bathroom. She ran nimbly, almost soundlessly, across the floor and ducked into the smaller room. Moments later the toilet flushed. Then Alice ran for Julia, tucking up alongside her, putting her tiny hand in Julia’s pants pocket.
She put her pen down, then gathered up her journals and notebooks and put everything on a high shelf. Alice moved soundlessly beside her, never losing contact.
Julia went to the chest of drawers and withdrew a pair of blue overalls and a pretty pink sweater. “Put these on,” she said, handing them to Alice, who complied. It took her several attempts to put on the sweater—she kept confusing the neck and sleeves. When she grew frustrated and started breathing heavily and snorting, Julia dropped to her knees.
“You’re getting frustrated. That’s okay. Here. This is where your head goes through.”
Alice instantly calmed and let Julia help her, but she drew the line at shoes. She simply would not put them on. Finally, Julia conceded defeat.
“Come with me,” she said, “but your feet will be cold.” She held out her hand.
Alice sidled up to Julia, put her hand in the pocket again.
Very gently, Julia eased Alice away from her. Then she held out her hand again. “Take my hand, Alice.” She made her voice as soft as a piece of silk.
Alice’s breathing grew heavier. Confusion tugged at her brow and forehead.
“It’s okay.”
Long minutes passed. They both stood perfectly still. Twice more Alice went for Julia’s pocket and was very carefully rebuffed.
Finally, just when Julia was considering the viability of her plan, Alice took a step toward her.
“That’s it,” Julia said. “Take my hand.”
Alice’s reaching out was slow, unsteady, and perhaps the most courageous moment Julia had ever witnessed. The girl was clearly terrified—she was breathing hard, trembling; the look in her eyes was of near terror—and yet she reached out.
Julia held the tiny, shaking hand in hers.
“No hurt,” she said, looking down at Alice.
Alice breathed a sigh of relief.
Holding hands, Julia led her toward the door.
Alice halted as they drew close. This was the closest she’d ever really been to the door. She stared at the bright, shiny knob in horror.
“It’s okay. No hurt. You’re safe.” Julia squeezed Alice’s hand in reassurance. She didn’t move, let Alice accept the moment thus far; when the girl’s trembling subsided, Julia reached for the door.
Alice tried to pull back.
Julia held fast to her hand, saying soothingly, “It’s okay. You’re afraid, but no hurt.” She twisted the knob and pushed the door open. The hallway was revealed. Long and straight, illuminated by sconces, there were no shadows in front of them, no hidden spaces. The dogs were there. At Alice’s presence, they erupted into barking, prancing movements and started to run toward her.
Alice pressed against Julia. At the dogs’ approach, she held out one small, pale hand and made a gurgling sound in the back of her throat.
The dogs stopped in their tracks and dropped to their haunches, waiting.
Alice looked up at Julia.
Julia couldn’t make sense of it. “Okay, Alice,” she said, not even sure what she was agreeing to, but she saw the question in the child’s eye.
Very slowly, Alice let go of Julia’s hand and moved toward the dogs. They remained perfectly still. When Alice reached them, it was as if a switch had been turned. The dogs pounced to life, licking Alice and pawing her.
Alice threw herself at the dogs, giggling hard when they nuzzled her throat.
Julia soaked in the new sight of Alice’s smile.
Long minutes passed. Finally, Alice drew back from the dogs and returned to Julia’s side. She tucked her hand in Julia’s waistband. “Come on, Alice,” Julia said.
Alice let herself be pulled slowly into the hallway. Once there, she got nervous. She looked longingly back at the plants in the bedroom. When she tried to take a step backward, Julia firmly said, “This way.”
She led Alice to the top of the stairs. Here, they paused again. The dogs followed them, moving quietly.
Julia wanted to scoop Alice into her arms and carry her down each step, but she didn’t dare. The girl might flail so mightily to be free that Julia would lose her hold.
Instead, still holding the little hand, Julia took one step down.
Alice gazed at her for a long time, obviously gauging this turn of events. Finally, she followed. They made their way down to the living room one step at a time. By the time they reached the sofa, it was full-on night.
She opened the porch door, revealing the darkness outside. The air smelled of coming winter, of dying leaves and rain-soaked grass and the last few roses on the bushes along the side of the house. The dogs made a beeline for the yard and started playing.