WHIRLPOOL

Part 3 - An Open Door 
By Tessa Harvey


    Helen slid away from the cream kitchen wall, face white. "It's Aunt Pauline. Don't let her get me back, Dr. Katie."
    She crept away to the bedroom. 
    Thomas had a sudden picture of the storm, of the lightning, and thunder. He felt again the river's power, the terrible whirlpool, the glorious colours - red, orange for danger and courage, green for the Good Shepherd, blue for the great ocean, indigo and lovely, the Lord of Armies walking over water. Then the whirlpool had been breached by the sea's roar, the water had stilled just briefly. He looked past the doorway in the rainbow, limned in light to his mother reaching for him. One day it would be his turn to see the great white glory of Jesus, but not yet. He reached now for his earthly father. But his father was moving to the door, tall and strong like a knight of old. The whole family watched this timid, bookish dad now a new man, reaching to answer the crude, angry summons, unafraid, or so it seemed.

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