Asha

“Well, what are the dreams about.?” Ms. Helen asked as she causally laid the newspaper aside, giving Asha her undivided attention.

Asha swallowed hard as she began. “Well, its just one dream... The same dream.”

“Hmm.” Ms. Helen remarked as she rested her chin on her fist patiently waiting for Asha to continue. “There’s this woman, she’s in white…”

“Is she doing anything?”

“Yeah, she does things.” Asha answered hesitantly, unsure if it could be categorized as actually doing anything.

“Is she a nice woman?”

Asha swallowed hard again, nodded slowly, and said. “I don’t think so.”

“Ump, that ain’t nothing but the devil, girl. You must be stressin’” Ms. Helen exclaimed in an accusatory tone. A little less interested she leaned back in her chair, but still gazed upon Asha waiting to hear what she would say next.

Asha shuddered as she recalled the ghostly figure which had stood in the corner of her bedroom, slowly working its mouth to form inaudible words. “I even saw her in my room.” She finally said.

Ms. Helen took a half eaten breakfast sausage from her plate and was now coaxing Boscoe closer with it glanced up, her expression read that Asha was tripping and she voiced just that.

Taken aback by her mother’s use of the term, she sat staring blankly for a moment before realizing that Boscoe was eating meat. “Momma! Don’t. I don’t want you feedin’ my puppy a bunch of sludge.” She tried to shoo Boscoe away.

“Aw, it’ll be alright.” Ms. Helen said glancing up at Asha. Asha hurried around the table and scooped Boscoe up into her arms.

“You need to stop spoiling that dog.” Ms. Helen looked at watch. “I better get going with Mom and Dad’s anniversary dinner.” She pushed away from the table and stood.

“You need some help?” Asha offered.

“Yeah, run to Louise’s house and borrow her bunt pan. I just broke my terra-cotta one, dang it!” Ms. Helen exclaimed, placing her hands on her hips in disgust. She started to move across the kitchen and looked over her shoulder. “Take that dog outside, I don’t want him in here while I’m cooking.” She commanded.

Asha, whom still held Boscoe in her arms, recoiled. “Outside?”

“Yeah, is there something wrong with that?” Ms. Helen said as she bent over, removing various pots and pans from the cabinet beneath the sink.

Asha said nothing, she only continued to stroke the puppy’s fur. Realizing the silent reluctance Ms. Helen stood and said. “Well,” and waited for Asha to start moving towards the kitchen door. “As you know the yard is fenced in, Asha, now go on and take him out there.” She commanded.

“He’s a house dog, Momma. I don’t want him getting fleas and such. He plays with my babies you know. Besides it’s a bit nippy this morning.” Asha whined.

Ms. Helen ignored her. “Girl get that dog outside and go get that pan like I asked you….wait.” She walked to the frig, opened it, and made a quick assessment. “I’ll need you stop pass the store, too.” She added.

Asha had forgotten that she hadn’t worn shoes and was so sure that she was carrying a pair in the trunk, which she now remembered she had removed sometime back. “Uh, Ma, can I wear those old tennis shoes of yours.” She asked causally enough.

Stunned, Ms. Helen turned to face Asha. “I know you didn’t run out of that house in the wee hours of the morning not wearing shoes. Were you that scared, girl?”

Asha only shrugged her shoulders. Ms. Helen shook her head in disbelief. “Now what dream could be all that bad. I knew you showed up here mighty early for some reason.”