Josephine, A Short Story by Randy Tramp

     Allison shouted upstairs, “Josephine, daddy’s leaving. Please come here.”
     The thirty-year-old mother cleared her throat and called again. Nothing. She handed Roosevelt his briefcase, received a kiss from him, then went to her daughter’s bedroom. The room was perfect, with nothing out of place. Even the bed looked like no one slept in it. “Josephine, where are you hiding? No goodbye hugs for Daddy?”
     Tiptoeing to the closet, Allison slowly turned the doorknob. Expecting her daughter to spring forward, Allison swung open the door. “Why are you in here?”
     Looking like her mom, the curly blonde-haired little girl sat in the corner. “I’m playing with Joey.”
     “There’s no one with you.”
     “Yes, Mommy, there is.  He’s right here and he’s six-years-old today.”
     Allison helped Josephine stand. “That’s nice. Go outside and play so I can clean your room.”
     “Can Joey go with me?”
     “There’s no Joey. Why can’t you understand?” Hand in hand, they went to the kitchen, then outside. “Don’t get dirty.”
     “No Mommy. I won’t go outside. Not without Joey” Josephine ran to her room, a distressed mother behind her. After opening the closet, Josephine took her imaginary friend’s hand and strutted outside.
     Why did her daughter act this way? She was sweet before her imaginary friend arrived. With a broom in hand, Allison swept her daughter’s bedroom, then pulled back the sheets and remade the bed. After thirty minutes and with her daily routine accomplished, she went to the kitchen and sat.
     Told they’d have no children, Josephine surprised them. After five years of trying and a difficult delivery, their daughter arrived. She was her little girl, one she’d have forever. No one would take her away. No one!
     After a couple of hours, she went to the tree house. Two voices emanated from the wooden structure. Roosevelt had built the tree house two years ago. Allison, three months ago, had painted it green and brown, two of her favorite colors.
     She climbed the ladder. “Who’s in there with you?”
     “You wouldn’t believe me, Mommy.”
     Allison stepped into the seven-by-seven foot room. “I heard two voices.”
     “Joey is afraid of you. He left.”
     Allison walked to the window. “There’s no one there.”
     “You’re a bad Mommy.”
     “Please don’t say that… I want us to spend time together, just you and me.” Allison took a small teacup and pretended to pour tea into it. She handed it to Josephine, who wouldn’t take the cup. The six-year-old folded her arms and lowered her head. “Have it your way. I’ll call you when it’s time for lunch.”
     In the kitchen, she prepared two grilled cheese sandwiches and placed one at Josephine’s place and another next to her. Not wanting to fight her daughter any longer, Allison decided to give in, at least for her birthday. If she wanted to believe in an imaginary friend today, she could.
     Opening the back door, she yelled, “Josephine and Joey, come in for lunch.”
     “Okay, Mommy.”
     Her daughter ran and took her seat at the table. Allison had heated a bowl of tomato soup for herself. She took a spoonful. “Aren’t you hungry?”
     “Yes, Mommy, but I’m waiting for Joey to take the first bite.”
     Allison faked a smile as Josephine held her sandwich. “Want to help me put up decorations for your birthday?”
     “I’d rather go swimming.”
     “No.” The word came out too strong.
     Her daughter’s eyes widened. Josephine stood.
     In a soft motherly voice, she said. “Please help me.”
     Josephine dropped her uneaten sandwich and ran outside.
     Again, Allison cried. After regaining control, she coaxed her little girl back into the house and together they spent the afternoon hanging decorations, stopping at the sound of the front door. “Daddy’s home.”
     “Allison?” Roosevelt called.
     With Josephine at her side, Allison greeted her husband in the living room. “Come into Josephine’s room; We decorated for her birthday.”
     Face fallen, lines spread across his forehead, Roosevelt reluctantly followed his wife.
     “Aren’t you going to hug your daughter?”
     Roosevelt turned and left the room. No hugs. No compliments on the decorations.
     A vision flashed. Floating body. Pale skin. Swimming Pool. Josephine’s funeral—one year ago. Allison shook her head and continued to decorate.













Randy Tramp

Amazon Review:

It's a military thriller with a heart. Commander Mark Steele has an exciting job in Special Forces. Though it's dangerous, he knows his work is critically important. But that job separates him from his wife and child. When an injury brings him home, his wife is glad to have him back. But other issues cause struggles within the family, leading to distrust and hurt. Steele takes dangerous risks in his new work. The thriller plot thickens, as he seeks to save a life. But can he save his family?

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