I awoke at 2:00 this morning to the sounds and lights of a police raid, but it was only Christopher getting a drink of water. Once satisfied, he slapped, slapped, slapped, flat footed down the hall and back to bed. I wasn’t able to get back to sleep until some time after 3:30.
I awoke again at 6:00 to the sound of Jack’s tags, clacking against his collar. He whacked his head against my door to open it and was soon beside me, sniffing and stretching. I mumbled at him and reached ineffectively but he trotted off. I debated what to do from what felt like the bottom of the ocean. And then I heard him vomiting.
He had just finished throwing up on the track of the sliding door when I found him. There was a small pool of vomit and what looked like half a strawberry. It was a stone. I let him out, threw out the stone, got him back inside, then took him down to Christopher’s room where the lights were all shining brightly, though the boy was tangled in his blankets, asleep. I patted the bed, encouraging Jack to jump up, which he did, then turned out all the lights and shut the door. By some miracle I quickly fell back to sleep.
I awoke again, I really don’t know what time, to Eden patting my face sweetly. She had had a sleep over and just wanted me to know that she was getting up. She was concerned that I would be worried if I awoke and she wasn’t there.
It has been a long, mostly good, but sometimes terrible day. Now only one is sleeping and it is all I can do to not round up the other two and sell them to the gypsies.
Good thing there aren’t any gypsies around; I want to keep these people.
I just want them to sleep.