Valkyrie (Kate O'Hearn) - By Kate O'Hearn Page 0,25
couldn’t say goodbye to his wife.’
The old woman looked at the phone. Tears rose in her grey-rimmed, brown eyes and her chin quivered. ‘They are united in death,’ she spoke softly. ‘Victoria was killed in a hit-and-run accident almost six months ago, not long after Tyrone died. They never caught the driver.’
‘She is dead?’ Freya looked away, unable to understand. She felt her temper rise as she learned of yet more violence. ‘Is that all this world is? Violence and war? People hurting each other for no reason?’
‘Sometimes it seems that way,’ the old woman said. ‘But it does have goodness as well.’
‘Where?’ Freya demanded harshly. ‘I have yet to see it. All I find is pain and loss. Boys are beating up boys for no reason, and Tyrone’s wife has been killed. It is all so ugly.’
She balled her hands into fists and crossed the room. ‘My sister tried to tell me that people had changed. That soldiers cared more than they used to and that I was wrong to judge them so harshly.’ She turned quickly on the old woman. ‘But I am not wrong. All there is here is hatred and fighting!’
‘I told you,’ Orus whispered in her ear. ‘There is no beauty in Midgard. Asgard is where you will find it.’
The old woman reached out for Freya’s gloved hands. ‘Please don’t judge us all so harshly. Believe me, child, our world does have more. Look at my granddaughter . . .’ The old woman escorted Freya back to the crib. She stroked the baby’s head with a trembling, aged hand. ‘So filled with life and so innocent. She will do no harm in this world. My Tamika wants to be a doctor. She will help people.’
She turned pleading eyes to Freya. ‘All you have seen are the horrors. Stay a while. Soon you will learn there is beauty too.’
Freya shook her head. ‘I wish I could believe you, but I find it impossible. Perhaps there are some individuals who are good. But as a whole . . .’
‘As a whole, we must still find a way to live together.’
‘Yes,’ Freya agreed. She gazed down on the baby. Uniik had stopped crying and was reaching up to her. Freya let the baby grasp her gloved finger and smiled as she giggled and tried to pull it to her mouth. ‘What will happen to Uniik and Tamika when you die?’
‘You know I’m dying?’
Freya nodded. ‘You could see me while I was wearing my helmet. Only the dead and dying can. And I can feel your pain. You are unwell.’
‘Cancer,’ the old woman sighed. ‘I’ve got a few weeks, months maybe. But not enough time to protect my girls. They don’t know yet. How can I tell them when they’ve lost so much already? That is my biggest fear. We have no family left and they will be all alone.’
Freya frowned. This couldn’t be the danger Tyrone referred to. He didn’t know his wife would die or that his mother had cancer. What had he meant when he’d said they were in danger? She wondered how much worse it could get for his daughters.
‘I’m Alma Johnson,’ the old woman finally said.
‘You may call me Greta.’
‘Greta, I was about to make myself some cocoa. It helps me sleep when the pain gets too much. Why don’t you come down with me? We can talk a spell. Let me try to tell you about the good of this world.’
Freya looked out the window and saw Archie down on the street. He was alone in this world too.
‘I have someone with me. It’s very cold out and he is shivering. May he come in?’
‘Of course,’ Alma said. ‘Is he an angel too?’
‘No, he’s just a boy.’ Before leaving the room, Freya looked back down on Uniik. The baby had settled to sleep. ‘This is the closest to a human baby I have ever been. In sleep, I can see traces of her father’s face. Tyrone would have been proud.’
Alma smiled at the baby. ‘Just like her grandma.’
‘If someone had ever told me I’d have an angel sitting right here at my kitchen table drinking cocoa with me,’ Alma said, ‘I’d have said they were crazy.’
Freya and Archie exchanged looks, but said nothing. It was easier to let the old woman believe she was simply an angel. Archie was still shivering as he grasped his steaming cup of cocoa for warmth. Freya and Orus were enjoying home-made chocolate-chip cookies.