Marcy’s Dream

Sixteen-year-old Marcy Claire straightened up and rubbed her back with a sigh. Her raven hair fluttered in the breeze. Around her animals were scampering around in the early morning sun. At Marcy’s feet sat a half full wicker basket. After several seconds Marcy kneeled back down and continued her search for herbs.

All of a sudden there was a ka thunk. Quivering in her basket was an arrow. Marcy’s breath caught in her throat and she looked up to see a handsome young man with pale blonde hair standing at the edge of the forest. Marcy froze in terror as her gaze locked with his. For several seconds neither one moved until the young man silently crumpled to the ground.

Without a thought Marcy jumped up and ran over to the stranger’s side. He was lying sideways and as Marcy listened she could hear his raspy breathing. She glanced around and seeing no one spoke to the unconscious stranger. “I’ll be right back.” With that she flew across the meadow.

By the time she reached home, Marcy was breathing hard. She barged into their house. “Mom, Dad!”

“What is it Marcy? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“There is . . . there is an injured man near the forest!”

“Where?” Loretta, Marcy’s mom asked urgently.

“Where I was gathering herbs. You know, on this side of the creek?”

“Okay. Kristin, go get your father and James. Jael, go with her.”

“Yes, Mom.” Twelve year old Kristin sprinted out of the house with Jael right behind.

“Marcy, come with me.”

The time flew hectically and before the hour was up the young man was resting quietly in the spare bed. Loretta stared down at him with her hands on her hips. “That wound is nasty. We’ll have to watch it carefully.

Over the next few minutes the wound was cleaned and bandaged. Loretta left to clean her hands, leaving Marcy in charge of the stranger.

Later that day the wounded man woke up. He opened his jade green eyes to stare at Marcy. “Who are you and where am I?”

“I’m Marcy. You’re in my family’s cottage healing. Stay still,” she added sharply when he tried getting up.

“Where is your cottage exactly?”

“It is near the town of Amica. (Am-ic-ca) Marcy was interrupted when her annoying ten-year-old brother burst in and stopped dead when he saw their guest awake.

“What’s your name?”

“Matthew Cole.” He replied weakly.

“Our cat just had kittens, do you . . .”

“Jael! He’s injured. Now get back outside.”

“Okay.” Jael muttered unhappily. He turned around and darted out of the room.

“You could have let him stay.”

“Matthew, you’re injured and weak. Get some rest.” Marcy turned away and picked up her sewing.

Matthew watched her appreciatively from the bed before his eyelids drooped and he fell into an exhausted sleep.

A week later Matthew was feeling stronger. He sat up in bed wincing at the small stab of pain in his chest. No one was in the cottage so he gingerly sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed and got up. With unsteady legs he walked to the window and leaned on the sill.

Outside the sun was shinning and the meadow around the house was bathed in sunlight. To his cottage weary eyes it seemed like a minor miracle. A gasped startled Matthew out of his thoughts. He turned around to see Marcy standing in the doorway a basket of greens on her hip. As she set down her basket she scolded him.

“Just what do you think you’re doing out of bed? You’re not well yet.”

“I’m well enough.” Matthew answered stubbornly as his knees started buckling.

Marcy rushed over and supported him. Slowly she assisted Matthew back across the room. She was now aware that he wasn’t a helpless invalid anymore. He was a very handsome young man.

When he was back in bed she stepped back and stared at him hiding her conflicting emotions. “Stay there. I don’t want to see you out of bed for the rest of the day.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Matthew replied with a saucy grin. He watched in amusement as she lifted her chin and whirled away.

After Marcy had left Matthew lay motionless trying to come up with the least hurtful way to tell the family that he had to leave. He soon gave up and fell asleep.

Two days later Matthew was much stronger and was sitting at the supper table with the family. He silently spooned some soup into his mouth as he debated what to say. Finally he just pushed his empty bowl away slightly and cleared his throat. Everyone looked at him and Matthew swallowed hard. He looked around at the trusting eyes of the family and wondered again how to phrase it.

“Um, well,” Matthew hesitated. “I really don’t want to break this news to you, but I really must leave.”

Almost at once the room was filled with voices as everyone talked over each other. Matthew watched as Darian sat back in his chair and asked a quiet question. “Why do you have to leave?”

Everyone stopped babbling as they heard their father’s question.

“I’ve been here over a week and my own family must be missing me by now. Besides I’m also well and I don’t want to impose on you any more.”

Everyone at the table waited expectantly for the rebuttal. Darian sighed and made his decision. “We’ll get supplies so you can leave early tomorrow morning.”