Chapter Seven: Final Chance

 

Cloudy slowly rose from the hard, cold linoleum floor, her head throbbing from the blow of Liloy’s fist. Meta Knight, rooted to the spot, stood staring dumbfoundedly at the front door, his eyes glowing a fiery orange. Cloudy struggled to her feet, wobbling a little, and only then did the soldier seem to shake himself free from his trance. “Cloudburst! Are you all right?” he inquired.

“I’m fine, but Liloy. . .” The child stared up at him with wide, frightened eyes. “Is she really going to follow through with what she said?”

Meta Knight couldn’t answer her; he didn’t know himself. “She always told me,” he said, “that she believed every life was sacred and beautiful beyond what words can describe. So I don’t understand her reasoning. . . .” He sighed and placed a hand to his head. “Why would she listen to her friend’s evil words? Why?

Cloudy spoke in a slow monotone. “Sometimes grief and unresolved trauma can drown out good advice and morals, Meta Knight. Perhaps that’s Liloy’s issue.”

Meta Knight sighed. “I do not know how to get her to listen to reason,” he admitted.

Cloudy’s eyes sparkled with a strange glint. Meta Knight recognized that look. “I believe God will rescue her just in time,” she declared.

His eyes grew wide as he searched her determined face, but he did not speak.

 

* * * * *

 

That evening, Cloudy picked at her food and vaguely listened in a fog of distraction to the conversation her parents were having about what to do for their children’s upcoming birthday. Cloudy wasn’t at the dinner table; she was miles away at a cabin in Whispy Woods, her brain fixated on Liloy and her problems. She tried desperately to think of ideas of what to do for Liloy and how to get her to snap out of her depressing thoughts, out of the ominous darkness that threatened to swallow her whole.

“Cloudy, what do you think?” Springtime asked.

Cloudy snapped out of her reverie and stared at her mother. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you. What did you say?”

“I asked, what do you think would be better for the party? To have a chocolate cake or a strawberry one?”

“Even a carrot cake would work,” Showerstorm added.

Springtime puckered her lips and made a face. “Eew, I hate carrot cake. That’s for the rabbits!”

“What do you mean?” Showerstorm playfully demanded. “Carrot cake is the best kind of cake there is!”

“According to your standards,” Springtime joked.

Cloudy wasn’t in the mood for kidding around. “I don’t know. Anything will work; I don’t care what kind you make. I’m not picky,” she responded, her patience with her parents thinning rapidly.

Springtime and Showerstorm traded glances. “Honey, is something aggravating you?” she inquired. “You’re sort of snappy tonight.”

Cloudy knew talking about Liloy’s daunting plan wouldn’t collaborate well with the merry mood at the dinner table. “I’ll tell you about it after supper,” she whispered quietly in their general direction.

Springtime nodded in understanding.

 

* * * * *

 

“Liloy’s going to do what?” Springtime cried.

Cloudy and her parents were sitting on the sofa after supper, discussing what Cloudy had been so distracted by. Cloudy had tried to explain Liloy’s plan in the most discreet way possible, but judging from her mother’s horrified look and her father’s stern one, she began to wonder if her explanation had been as discreet as she had tried to make it.

“Liloy’s going to try to end her pregnancy,” Cloudy repeated.

“Why on earth?” Springtime gasped.

“I don’t know,” Cloudy said, her head sinking. “Maybe she’s too deep in her emotional stress and overwhelmed by her trauma to care much about anyone else’s opinions. Heck, she won’t even listen to her own father’s advice.”

“That’s not good,” Showerstorm said grimly. “Have you tried talking to her?”

“Yes, I did, and her response was to knock me over the head!” Cloudy gingerly reached her paw up and touched the bump on her head, wincing a little as she did so.

“Oh, dear. I’m afraid she’s too beyond hope,” Springtime said regretfully.

Cloudy was shocked. How could her mother talk that way! Didn’t she know no one was too far out of reach for God to save? “No, she isn’t!” she angrily objected. “I believe God will save her and her baby just in time! I believe that!”

Springtime took a deep breath and slowly released the air in her lungs.. “I know, dear. And. . .I’m sorry. I guess. . .I wasn’t thinking clearly. You’re right. No one is too far gone for God to reach out His hand to.”

“But what can we do to change her mind?” Showerstorm puzzled. “I mean, I suppose we could talk to her, but what difference would that make? If she won’t listen to Meta Knight, or even to our daughter, then why would she listen to us?”

“We are older than she is and have more life experience,” Springtime reminded her husband. “Perhaps she’d take our wisdom and apply it to her situation.”

“It’s worth a shot,” Showerstorm agreed, silently praising his wife for her integrity. “We’ll talk to her later tonight and let you know what she says, Cloudy.”

Cloudy nodded wordlessly, but deep down, she wondered if her parent’s effort would make any difference. Then her mind went to the baby birds―still so small and weak. They were barely growing or breathing, and even their food dish was full half the time. Cloudy darkly thought, Maybe this is a forewarning―Liloy’s baby will die, and the birds will perish. Not one of them will live to even see the sun.

 

* * * * *

 

Later that evening, Springtime and Showerstorm were tromping through Whispy Woods, searching for Liloy’s cabin. Eventually, they found it and plodded up the walkway. Then they climbed the steps of Liloy’s now-sold home and Springtime knocked on the door. There was no answer for a long time. The two spouses waited reluctantly on the doorstep, wondering if Liloy was even home or if she had gone away.

After a time, the door opened, and there stood Liloy. Her eyes were red and her face was drawn, but she worked up a tentative smile and said cheerfully, “Well, if it isn’t Springtime and Showerstorm! Won’t you come inside?”

Husband and wife took advantage of the invitation and waltzed inside. Springtime stared round at the bare bedrooms and desolate kitchen, wondering where Liloy slept at night and what she ate. Showerstorm, not wishing to be rude, seated himself on the wooden floorboards of the dining room and said in a mature tone, “Liloy, we have come to discuss something with you―something I know needs to be addressed.”

Liloy held up her hand. “If this is about me and my baby, forget it,” she said abruptly. Springtime was astounded that Liloy would be so rude! “I’ve already decided on my course of action, and nothing you two or anyone else says will change my mind. End of story.” She gestured toward the front door. “Now if that is all, I must ask you to leave. I have to finish packing so I can get to my new home tomorrow.”

Showerstorm was so startled by Liloy’s brusque declaration that he sat frozen to the spot. But then suddenly, he could move again. “Liloy, I’m not going to let you do such a terrible thing to your child!” he said roughly. “God tells us that murder is wrong! Don’t you know that? Or do you just not care?”

“I have already discussed this with Father,” Liloy said coldly. “I do not want to hear anything you have to say. I will do only what is best for my child.”

“But. . .But. . .” Springtime sputtered, seeing red, “you’re not doing what’s best for your child!”

“I said I do not want to hear this!” Liloy shouted, her face twisting with furious rage. Her eyes were flaming, her fists seemed ready to fly. Showerstorm and Springtime, their hearts pounding, edged toward the door, Liloy flailing them with her tongue. “Get out now! Get out of my house and do not ever come back!” As soon as they were on the doorstep, she slammed the door shut with a deafening bang. Springtime heard the lock click as the bolt slid into place.

Husband and wife remained on the porch for the longest time, staring at the door, wondering what in the world had gone wrong.

 

* * * * *

 

“So how did it go?” Cloudy asked as soon as her parents stepped into the house.

“It hardly went at all,” Springtime said miserably. “Liloy became furious when we tried to talk to her about her baby, and she yelled at us, ordering us out of the house. Then she slammed the door on us.” She shook her head bewilderingly. “I don’t understand. She’s never acted so rash and angry before—Lilith must have really influenced her!”

“Ohh, is there nothing we can do?” Cloudy exclaimed, stamping her foot. Springtime thought those words sounded a little familiar. “We can’t just stand around here and do nothing! A life is on the line!”

“Cloudy, I tried and tried to tell her, but she wouldn’t listen!” Showerstorm finally burst out. “There’s nothing we can do! It’s all up to the Lord now! You must understand that!”

Cloudy shrank back, the room going completely silent at her father’s frustrated outburst. The frogs croaked outside, a peaceful contrast to the tension inside the home. Cloudy stared at each of her parents in turn, thinking, Is there no way out of this horrible nightmare?

 

* * * * *

 

Scazzarda frowned at the text Springtime had sent her during the night. It said plainly, “Liloy’s about to follow through with a disastrous decision involving her baby and she needs to be stopped. She wouldn’t listen to her father, Cloudy, or us, so you’re our only option now, Scazzarda. We need your help.”

Of course I’ll help, Scazzarda thought, a rush of energy flowing through her as she jumped out of bed and began to get dressed. I’ll do whatever it takes to save my precious great-grandchild.

 

* * * * *

 

Scazzarda knocked on Liloy’s door and stepped back, expecting the door to open just as it would have on any other normal day. But it never did. And that was when Scazzarda noticed the boxes that had been gathered on the porch a couple of days ago had vanished. The truth hit her—Liloy must have already left for Mount Moonstem. It was too far away for walking; she’d have to get there by car.

Scazzarda’s face was decidedly steely as she marched through the woods, back to her house, to get her car.

 

* * * * *

 

“Cabin 204,” Scazzarda muttered to herself as she climbed out of her car and walked up the steep incline. “That’s her new address, Magnus said.” She paraded between rows and rows of cabins, mouthing their numbers, “Cabin 201, 202, 203. . .” And out loud: “Ah! Here we are! Cabin 204!” She knocked on the door and waited.

A few seconds later, Liloy was fondly, calmly greeting her grandmother, a stark contrast to the shrieking, furious girl from the night before. Scazzarda couldn’t understand her granddaughter’s shifting attitude as the young woman invited her into the cabin and bade her please be seated on a small velvet sofa, which had belonged to Tilry’s father.

“So what are you here for, Grandmother?” Liloy politely asked. “What’s going on back home?”

Scazzarda knew she had to speak out. Now was the time. “Everyone is just fine, dear, but they’re worried about you,” she calmly said. “See, Springtime alerted me last night about what happened between you and she and her husband, and well, I just came out here to. . .” She broke off as she noticed Liloy staring at the wall, a faraway expression in her sad eyes.

“So they sent you to try to talk me into changing my mind, huh?” Liloy said.

Scazzarda sighed, knowing she couldn’t hide the truth. “Yes,” she confessed.

“I see,” Liloy calmly responded.

Scazzarda rushed to her next words. “Listen, Liloy. I know you’re going through a lot, but you cannot just give up on yourself and your baby. Life is a very precious gift, Liloy, and we only have it a short time. We should live it to honor God and show His glory to all. To murder someone is to mount an attack on the One Who created and breathed life into that special person.
“There are lots of Bible verses that tell us murder is wrong. Psalm 139:13 tells us, “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.”  That tells us that every life is created for a purpose. Everyone has intrinsic value and dignity that God created them with. Another verse is Jeremiah 1:5, which says, “Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you, before you were born, I set you apart.” This verse underscores the true fact that God has valued life from its very inception, and He has affirmed its sanctity.”

Liloy didn’t answer. Her eyes were now riveted on the floor.

“What I am saying is that you cannot do this to your child,” Scazzarda spoke gently, placing her firm hand over Liloy’s gentle one. “God gave you this baby for a reason, Liloy. He chose you to be the mother of this special life.”

Liloy stood up, drawing her hand away from Scazzarda’s. “Grandmother. . .I have to tell you about something I did,” she said quietly. “Last night, after Springtime and Showerstrom had left. . .I scheduled an appointment.” She didn’t need to say anything else; the horrified look coming into Scazzarda’s eyes told her that Scazzarda knew what she was talking about.

“Why, Liloy?” Scazzarda simply asked. She didn’t yell or get mad, but simply spoke in a soft tone. “Why?”

“I lost myself last night,” Liloy admitted. She covered her eyes with one hand. “Grandmother, I know you and many others are trying to help, but I have to do what’s best for my child. I have to do this.” She hesitated, then went on, “I know God’s laws are moral and upright, but I have to make an exception. I truly believe I have to go against my beliefs this time.”

Liloy, you don’t know what you’re saying. “When do you go?” Scazzarda braced herself for the answer.

The reply was horrific. “March 22.”

Liloy sank onto the couch and began to cry silently as Scazzarda stood up and left the cabin, tears streaming down her face as she glanced back at the snow-draped mountains. Then she got into her car, started the ignition, and drove away, never once looking back.