Baby

Chapter 1
1929
    It came to young Netty in her sleep. The first probing finger, an aura glinting under the sleeping eyelids of her brain, unnoticed. She lay under shabby blankets in the primitive bed of her murdered mama, in the tiny remote cabin of a loving childhood. Now, her debilitated physical condition crippled her to the point of numbness. She tossed in her sleep, disturbed by the pain of the injuries that continued to devil her, taking turns with the unseen presence in her mind.
    The night passed too quickly as it always does when overwork and fear became your only companion. Rising early, intending to continue the repairs she doggedly hoped to complete, she found herself ignoring the fireplace that begged a spark to stand at the broken door of the cabin. She stared watchfully into the quiet woods at the far side of the field, affected by an unfathomable magnetic pull. Nothing moved; familiar maples and oaks frozen in their leafy majesty. The eerie stillness unaccountably frightened her. She felt goose bumps lift the hairs on her plump work worn arms. Against her will, she stepped out onto the narrow stoop and down the few steps to head across the field.
    Netty wearily trudged around the wild blackberry thickets until she came upon the hint of a faint path; all that remained of the well-worn trail she traveled incessantly as a child. The nebulous pathway led her directly through the foreboding woods until she reached a familiar cleft in a rocky outcrop. Looking down at her damaged feet, she saw her open sores blossoming with blood and pus, her inability to stop the infection worrisome. Why, oh why, should I make this needless and excruciating foray into the damp morning fog? I cannot spare the time, and God knows, I plainly did not have the strength.
    Only two weeks passed since she made her unexpected escape from the humiliation and abuse regularly tolerated from the evil sick bastard she married. Was this sudden and strange compulsion to take to the woods, a punishment for running away from him? Or did the spirits of the devil invade her in her sleep? Visions of her abusive husband carting her off to the insane asylum at Graystone, near their mansion in Norristown, convinced her she must continue on, hoping to discover the meaning of the annoying compulsion that drove her against her will and wisdom.
    Needing a break from the exhausting trek, she rested her feeble body, swiping her thinning, ratty brown hair off her forehead as she contemplated the progress made on her tiny two-room cabin in the last two weeks. She swallowed, trying vainly to choke back a bitter sob. It sure took a mighty big bucket of blood, pain and trampled illusions to get to this point, but she thought she might now be safe from Robert.
    She wondered how a pathetic wretch such as herself, had mustered the nerve to leave him with his powerful ability to intimidate and bend her to his will. To reassure herself, she touched the small round object pinned to her undergarments underneath her bodice. Strange how the purloined object could give her a quick shot of comfort. She unapologetically brushed a sudden flush of shame aside. She took the little treasure in a futile and petty attempt at revenge. A sour laugh slipped out alongside the knowledge that nothing in her sadly wasted life could compensate her for the newly discovered premeditated betrayal by her older husband. Her head still echoed with the hateful revelations made by him a mere fifteen days ago.
    Steeling herself as she rested, she attempted to concentrate on the progress she made on the cabin in the last few days. Was it only two weeks since she first arrived back on Lily Pond Road? Why call it a road she thought ruefully? Should it not be called Lily Pond Rut Field, as progress clearly failed to reach this far from town, even after all this time? The journey almost defeated her. Her feet bled from numerous injuries incurred on her long trek from the big city back to Sussex County. Her house slippers were clearly not her first choice for the trek, but her husband’s unexpected return as she searched his precious library, left her no choice. Abundantly sure she could no longer bear up under more of his scorn, violence and mocking laughter, she ran. And she ran. And she ran, until her hobbled condition forced her to collapse upon reaching Lily Pond Road. The very road that told her, the beloved home of her childhood could be found around the next bend.
    As she approached the