No, Daddy, no.
Everett Whittington stood on the revolving platform beside the painted pony on which his gleeful daughter sat. She held tightly to the pole as she rose and fell in the rhythmic dance of the carousel. He reached out protectively to steady her tiny body, but she shook her head emphatically.
No, Daddy, no. I can do it myself. Im a big girl, now, said Stephanie. It was her fifth birthday, after all.
Where did those years go? Everett thought. How much Ive missed.
Everett was mesmerized by Stephanies reflected face in the mirror at the center of the merry-go-round. Between the motion of the platform and the waviness of the mirrors surface, she was transformed into something diaphanous, a fairyno, an angel, gliding gracefully through the air. Her eyes seemed to sparkle. As she glanced at her own reflection, he could see her lips parted in a smile filled with pure white baby teeth, except for the space that once held the tooth that hed slipped from underneath her pillow several nights before.
That picture was committed to Everett Whittingtons memory. It was how he always wanted to remember her. Someday, she would grow up, but not for a long time. He would savor the few years of her childhood that remained. He reveled in her innocence.
As Stephanies wooden horse glided up and down to the music of the carousel, she had everything she wanted for her birthday. Her Daddy had come home every night for a week, reading her a bedtime story and tucking her in for the night. Now they were together at the amusement park for her birthday, the first at which she remembered him ever being present. Despite her words of protest, having him standing beside her on the carousel platform was a dream come true.
* * *
As Everett gazed at the letter in his trembling hands, the image that had lingered sweetly for nearly twenty years faded from view.
Now we both know why I hate you.
Everetts head spun as he struggled to understand the words in what appeared to be his daughters handwriting.
What evil is there inside you? The words sprang from the flimsy bit of stationery in his hands to clutch his heart.
You are dead to me forever, concluded the letter. When had that innocent child in the picture that had been burned so deeply into his soul become so filled with venom? How had his angel lost her wings and plummeted so abruptly to the depths of madness? For madness it must be that called forth such hateful words toward the father who once cherished her.
Now we both know why I hate you, he read again, uncomprehending. He must figure it out. He must solve the riddle within these words if he were ever to dispel the madness and win back his daughters love. He would seize whatever chance he had, at whatever price, to restore his angels wings and look again into the eyes that once sparkled just for him.
For Stephanie Whittington, the light had been extinguished long ago that once illuminated this scene from a lost childhood. For her, there were no carousels or cotton candy, no birthday parties or Christmases, no favorite toys or best friends. What was most remarkable was that for so many years she had no idea these things were missing. And now the missing pieces of her life were beginning to appear from the dark void of her past. As the rekindled light burned ever brighter, reflecting from each piece, she was determined that it would never go out again.
For Dr. Kenneth Miller, the value of remembrance had become a passion and a focal point of his lifes work. His work over the past two years with Stephanie Whittington was among the most intense and fruitful of his career. He became, for a while, the bearer of the light that illuminated her past until she was able to carry it herself. The effects of his work on the lives of Stephanie and Everett Whittington were now about to change his life.
|