Chahpter 7: The Visions

   Abri wasn’t born with epilepsy.  The seizures started after a terrible accident when she was only three.  Abri was an
adventurous child who climbed everything.  Nothing in the cottage was safe.  

   Da couldn’t leave off from his work on the farm to care for Abri.  He tried once to take her to the
farm with him, but that was a disaster.  She disappeared into the cornfield where she fell asleep
between the furrows.  It was only by bringing Tom Saunders’s hunting dog that night, giving him a
sniff of Abri’s blanket, and turning him loose that she was found.  Old Rounder let out a full throated
bay when he caught her scent, at which Abri woke and let out a wail of her own.  The two voices
competed on the night air like two cats warming up for a fight.

    It happened on a Sunday, the accident, that is.  Da had built a holding pen for a ram he had on
loan for breeding purposes.  Little Abri amused herself first by bringing blades of the long, sweet
grass that grew along the lane and feeding them to the ram, and then by reaching into the pen to
pet him.  The ram loved the sweet grass, but wasn’t interested in being a feature at a petting zoo.  

   Da scolded Abri and warned her that the ram was a dangerous animal and that she should be
careful.  But, Abri only noted that Da was very busy and would not be paying much mind to what
she did.

   Da was indeed busy.  Afterwards he would say that he only looked away for a moment.  In truth,
that’s all the adventurous child needed.  It only took a moment for her to clamber up the side of the
pen and down in with the ram.  Abri got out one scream before the ram knocked her senseless. 
In less than a moment Da was at the pen.  He had never rehearsed a scenario like this and didn’t
know what to do.  Jumping in with the ram was one answer.  He could shield the little girl with his
own body, and perhaps he deserved the beating the ram would give him.  He could reach over the
side and try to lift Abri out, but that was sketchy at best.  The ram could kill her as he tried to lift her
out--if she weren’t already dead.  But as Da reached the pen the solution came, almost as if a voice
spoke it to him.  Open the pen.  

   Quickly, Da raised the gate at the rear of the pen and the ram made a run for it.  Getting the ram
back into the holding pen is another story, and a worthy one, but not to be told now.  When Da lifted
Abri from the pen, she was bruised black and blue and lay limp in his arms.  He was horrified.  

   “What have I done!  What have I done!” he howled.  

   Da saddled his horse faster than horse has ever been saddled.  Holding Abri in one arm and the
reins in the other, he galloped to Gillingham’s mansion.  The doctor was always hard to find, but the
nurse that tended Gillingham’s father in those days was always there.  

   Gillingham was angry when he saw the condition the child was in, he didn’t wait to send a servant,
but rushed to find the nurse himself.  The bouncing of the horseback gallop had revived Abri some,
but she was stunned and stupefied.  But she was breathing.  The nurse checked for broken bones,
found one, and splinted the left leg.  

   “Her head is likely to swell,” she said, “which could cause damage to the brain.  Since it’s Summer,
and we have no ice or snow, you must apply cool water to her head and keep a cool breeze blowing
to evaporate the water.  This must be done constantly.  I’ve given her a willow bark tea that will
reduce the blood pressure.  I’ll send more with you.  And here’s a jar of clean leeches.  Apply two,
one behind each ear.  This will help keep the blood pressure low.  The tea is bitter, so she may not
take it.  Do not add sugar.  Sugar would counter any benefit of the tea.”

   The nurse looked at Da, then at Gillingham who hadn’t left their side.  “Do you have any questions?”  

   Da had indeed, but none for the nurse.  How was he going to tend the girl? was the question that
he couldn’t ask and for which he had no answer.

   As the two men left the nurse, Da carrying Abri, Gillingham did a curious thing, a deed of
compassion though no compassion showed in his countenance or aspect.

  “McCullough,” he said, “you’re going to need a girl to tend the child until she recovers.”  He handed
Da a silver coin and said, “This should cover it.  See that the child receives the best care and keep
me informed of her progress.  Ben Tanner has a daughter that should serve.  Darcie, I think her
name is.  Call at the Tanner’s on your road home and task her to tend the child. Give this coin to
Tanner and he’ll gladly send the girl with you.”      

   Abri had been (to this point) bright eyed and active.  She had a look that bespoke intelligence. 
But for three days following the accident, she either lay or sat in her bed in a profound stupor.  Da
felt sick every time he saw her bruised face.  They say that tragedy will drive even a reprobate to
his knees.  David McCullough was no reprobate, but he wasn’t attentive in his church pew either. 
But for the next while no one prayed more fervently nor made more promises to reform than Da.

   Darcie never left Abri’s side.  The Nurse’s instructions were followed to the letter, and on the fourth
day the light began to return to Abri’s eyes.  

   On the fifth day the doctor called.  He changed the splint for a brace that held the leg at an angle,
not that the angle would help the leg heal correctly, but that the angle would make it difficult for Abri
to put her weight on the mending leg.  And that would help the leg to heal correctly.  

   After two months the brace came off.  The muscles took their time remembering their full range of
motion, but Abri was soon moving stools and climbing to get at Da’s hidden stash of candy. 
Everything seemed back to normal, even to the extent that Da was again finding it hard to pay
attention in church.  Everything was normal except the seizures.

   Abri’s seizures were grand maul.  In other words, her body would contort as an electrical storm
in her brain sent wild commands to contract random muscles.  The contracting muscles caused
her body to writhe and her limbs to jerk spasmodically.  The nurse instructed, “place a pillow under
her head so that she doesn’t hurt herself.  Don’t try to put anything in her mouth.  She’s capable of
biting off a finger or a stick.  These, she might choke on.”

   The seizures usually lasted from five to seven minutes.  Abri’s contorted face looked to Da like
she was possessed by an evil power.  Over time they became less severe and less frequent. 
The visions didn’t start until Abri was eight or nine.  She didn’t remember when for sure.  

   The visions weren’t like dreaming.  There were no pictures, only feelings.  Once when she was
about nine, Abri woke from a seizure and began sobbing uncontrollably and inconsolably.  Usually
a seizure left Abri exhausted and she would sleep for a few hours.  But this was different.  Da wasn’t
sure how to respond or what to do.  

   Finally, Abri spoke.  Haltingly between sobs, “Da,” sob, “do--n’t” sob “go.”

   Da tried to be reassuring.  “I’m not going anywhere, Abi.”

   “Do--n’t go,” another sob and a struggle to breathe and talk and cry at the same time.

   “Don’t go where?” Da asked.

   “Tonight,” sob, “don’t go,” sob, “to town.”

   How do you reject that kind of a plea?  Da didn’t know.  So he answered, “Sure Abri hon.  I won’t
go.  Why not?”  

   Abri didn’t know why; she just had a very bad feeling and kept pleading with Da not to go to town
as he usually did when the farm work was done. So on this night, Da stayed home.  That evening,
Wallace Jones lost his mind, took a crowbar to the pub, and smashed up the place, broke three
men’s arms and killed a fourth. 

   Not every seizure brought a vision.  These came only once or maybe twice to a year.  Abri never
had reason to doubt them...until now.