Free Nightwitch by Ken Douglas

She wasn’t as scared then as she was now.
    Arty had been scared though, but he still protected her. He got shot pushing her out of the way. If it wasn’t for him she would probably be dead. She wished he was here with her now, instead of listening to the Beatles carry on about Lovely Rita the meter maid.
    Silverware crashed on the floor on the other side of the kitchen and something came rushing along the kitchen counter toward her. She heard it as it thumped onto the floor and she jumped sideways, banging into the breakfast table, dropping the peroxide.
    Sheila squealed when the jar landed on her back.
    Carolina caught her breath and fought to keep from laughing. She’d been scared over nothing but Sheila. She turned on the light and chased away the dark.
    “ You bad girl,” she said, in a soothing voice that conveyed the exact opposite of what she was saying to the ferret. “Did I hurt you?” She bent over and scooped her pet up and picked up the peroxide. “You know you’re not supposed to be in this part of the house. What if Mom catches you? I’d be having ferret stew for dinner. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”
    She continued talking to the animal as she crossed the kitchen and got a sauce pan from the cupboard next to the oven. She smiled, bent again, picking up the silverware Sheila had knocked out of the dish strainer and plopped them back in it. Then she filled the pan with warm water.
    “ Now you, little girl, I have to go and check on Arty and I want you to be good. No getting jealous, okay?”
    The ferret answered her by wiggling in her hand. Carolina set it on her shoulder. She needed both hands to carry the pan of water.
     
     
    * * *
    “ I didn’t go anywhere,” Arty said, trying to make a joke. She’d been gone for three and a half songs and he was starting to get worried.
    She set the pan of water down on the nightstand and the ferret jumped from her shoulder to the bed as Carolina went over and shut off the radio. “I’m kind of tired of the Beatles, tonight,” she said.
    “ Yeah, me too,” he said as she went in the bathroom.
    She came out a second later with a wash cloth and towel. “I hope this doesn’t hurt too much.” She moved back up behind him on the bed. “I’m not supposed to be doing this, you know—I’m only a kid.” She soaked the towel in the water and dabbed at the blood.
    “ That feels good,” he said, meaning it. The feel of her warm hands on his cold skin sent shivers of pleasure up his spine, drowning away the pain.
    “ It’s only a little cut, right by your back bone, not even an inch. Don’t move again.” She slid off the bed. “Be right back.”
    “ Where are you going?”
    “ To get some bandages.”
    He took a look around her room while she was gone and was surprised to find that it didn’t look like what he thought a girl’s room should look like at all.
    On her bed was a plain, baby blue, chenille bedspread, worn and years old. She had a large, long haired Teddy bear sitting between her two pillows. The ferret was curled up in its lap, watching him. It seemed alert, aware and afraid.
    He reached out a hand to her and Sheila scurried into his lap, eager for a calm reassuring petting. He complied and stroked her fur. She wasn’t afraid of him, so he reasoned it must be the red eyes he’d seen looking in the window that had the ferret on edge.
    “ How you doing?” Carolina asked, coming back into the room for the second time. Her eyebrows were knitted close together and she was wearing a frown. “Even though it seems like only a scratch, maybe you should go to the doctor. I cut myself on a broken milk bottle once and my mom didn’t take me to the doctor, because she thought it was no big deal and now I have this big scar.”
    “ Where?” he asked, wide eyed and interested.
    “ On my right arm.” She showed him a two inch scar that started at her elbow and inched down toward the back of her hand. Her frown changed into a smile as