“Don’t shut me out,” Samson’s voice came from behind her.
She hadn’t heard him come in.
“Delilah, please talk to me.” His voice teased at her neck.
She shook her head.
“What are you afraid of? I know you’re not scared of me. I can feel it.” Samson touched her hand with his and intertwined his fingers with hers.
His touch was the last strain her psyche could take.
“Please, let me go. I can’t be with you.”
“I can’t let you leave. I’m connected to you. And you’re connected to me. Can’t you feel it? I’ve never felt this close to anybody. I can sense things about you … the lavender meadow … it’s like I’m in your head …”
“No, please.”
“There is more. I can feel the sadness, but I don’t understand it. It’s there when you think about the meadow. It’s as if there is pain associated with it. Delilah, let me in …”
How could he know about the pain, when she herself had tried to bury it deep in her memories?
“I can’t.”
“Sweetness, I need to understand you. I need to know.”
“You can’t know. Nobody can ever know what it was like. What I did!”
“I’m here for you. Please, tell me what’s causing you this pain. I can feel it here.” He pressed his hand to his heart.
She couldn’t explain why he knew anything about her past, but she herself had had strange visions which were all related to him.
“The meadow,” she started, “it’s located near a small village in France.”
She looked at his face, but didn’t see him. All she saw was the meadow and herself as an eight year old girl …
Delilah cradled her little baby brother in her arms.
“Careful,” her mother cautioned. “He’s fragile. Hold his head up with your arm.”
“I can do it, Mom, don’t worry. I’m a big girl. See?” She showed her mother that she knew how to hold little Peter. “He’s so tiny. Was I so tiny, too?” With big eyes she looked up at her mother, who gave her a warm smile.
“Just as small. And just as cute as he is.” Her mother kissed her on the top of her head.
“Well, there are my two favorite girls!” Her father’s voice suddenly echoed from the path leading to the lavender meadow as he approached them.
Almost every afternoon when he was done with teaching he’d find them lounging in the meadow, enjoying the long summer days. They would spend their afternoons laughing, playing games and chatting, the perfect family. A loving mother, father, and a little baby brother. It was all she’d ever wanted.
Delilah’s childhood was perfect. She didn’t mind the fact that they lived in a country whose language she barely spoke, and that she had to make new friends at school. All her difficulties were forgotten when her bother was born. He made their little family perfect.
He was like a little doll she’d play with all day long. And she never got bored of him. She loved her brother, more than all her toys together.
Her parents trusted her with him. One night at the end of the summer, her parents wanted to celebrate their anniversary by eating out at a local restaurant. It was only one block from their house, so they left Delilah in charge of her brother.
It would be an early dinner, and they wouldn’t stay out longer than an hour. Peter was asleep when they left. He’d been fed and bathed and was a happy little boy when he was put to bed. Delilah was to call the old lady who lived downstairs from them should her brother awaken, and she in turn would fetch them from the restaurant.
All went quiet after her parents left for the restaurant. Delilah played with her dolls. She checked on him to make sure he was covered by his blanket. And that’s when she noticed something.
Peter was too quiet. She couldn’t hear anything. He just lay there in the crib surrounded by silence. She shook him.
“Peter, wake up.” He didn’t wake like he normally would when he heard voices. She shook him again, but he didn’t respond. Maybe he was just really fast asleep. Maybe he was so tired he couldn’t hear her.
But he wasn’t tired, and he wasn’t asleep. Fear froze her to the place where she stood, looking down at his quiet body. No breath, no movement came from him. And Delilah just stood there, in shock, unable to move, unable to make a decision. She wasn’t prepared. She only stood there.
Delilah hadn’t moved from the place by the crib when her parents returned twenty minutes later. She barely heard her mother’s screams when her father lifted Peter’s lifeless body out of his tiny bed.