Shell Shocked by Eric Walters Read Free Book Online

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    I could still hear her moving around in the kitchen. She had her own sleep problems. She’d had them since our father had shipped overseas. I knew she was worried about him, the same way I was worried about him and her. Sometimes she’d go three or four days with hardly any sleep. You could see it in her face. Then she’d finally give in and use some of that sleeping powder, and at last she’d get a good, solid rest. Those nights a tank could have rolled through our house and she wouldn’t have noticed. I wished she’d use that powder more often, but she said she didn’t want to get “dependent” on it.
    Her moving around, things moving around in my head and Jack snoring—all were working to keep me awake. And Jack’s snoring was getting worse. Maybe I needed to ask him to move to the chesterfield for a few days.
    The door to the bedroom opened a crack. A thin line of light appeared, and then the silhouette of my mother as she peered in. I closed my eyes and lay perfectly still—I wanted to make sure that she didn’t know I was stillawake. There was no point in worrying her any more about my sleep problems.
    Her checking on us was a good sign. That was one of the last things she did every night before she went to sleep herself. After that, I knew I’d be able to drift off. Maybe. At least with it being Friday night I didn’t have to get up early for school. I could even have a nap tomorrow, if I wanted to. So could Mom. And starting Monday she’d be on day shift, which meant I could get to sleep earlier for the next two weeks because I wouldn’t be worried about her coming in so late.
    I heard the front door open and my ears perked up. Why would she open the front door? Maybe she was checking to see that it was locked. I heard it close again.
    Sometimes I’d get up in the middle of the night to check it myself. Then I’d go and look in on my mother to make sure she was in her bed asleep. I knew that was silly, but I had to look. I’d stand there in her doorway, stock-still, hidden in the dark, holding my breath, listening until I heard her softly breathing or saw a slight movement in her bed that let me know she was there and everything was fine.
    I heard footsteps outside … or did I? They were very faint. Probably it was only somebody walking by. But whatever was out there—if it was anything more than my imagination—was now gone. Either way, there wasnothing I could do about it. I needed to turn over and get to sleep … but I was more awake now than ever. Maybe I still needed to get up and check the door myself.
    Quietly I climbed out of bed. Moving silently on bare feet I padded out of my room, using one hand against the wall to steady and guide me. Across the living room, light shone in through the front window and lit my way to the door. I jiggled the handle ever so slightly. It was locked all right. As expected. I could go to sleep now. Or maybe I should just look in on my mother. But she might still be awake, and then she’d ask me why I was still awake. I could tell her I was going to the washroom.
    It was only a few steps to her bedroom. Her door was open and the lights were out. I peeked in around the corner and looked and listened. I couldn’t see anything, and the only thing I could hear was my heart pounding in my ears. Was she even in bed? But where else could she be? I looked around. Obviously she wasn’t in the living room, and the bathroom door was open and the light was out so she wasn’t there. The kitchen was dark as well. This was one of the few advantages of living in such a small house. She had to be in bed.
    I took a small step into my mother’s room. I didn’t want to startle her but I had to see. I stopped and listened again. Nothing. No sound. And while I saw something in her bed—a dark shape—it really didn’t look big enoughto be her. I went closer and