THE CLIFF OF HOPE 

By Tessa Harvey

    Wendy was not enjoying herself. It was a nice restaurant, the waiters were obliging, the food quite good, though all the French words puzzled her.
    She thought of James, of her sons, Izak and Chris,....of the house she had worked so hard to make a home. "Why did I quarrel so much?" she thought, sadly. The man she was with was so arrogant and overbearing. How silly she was being. But the man kept showing her photos of himself - in the city with his firm, outside stood on one rugged hill top or another, posing, always posing. There were no other people, just this man smiling at the camera.
    "Have another drink." He poured more. "I want to go home," Wendy said, scraping back her chair.
    The man clamped a strong arm on hers, hard enough to bruise. He kept squeezing. Tears filled her eyes. "You owe me," he hissed, angrily. The woman struggled to free herself. She flung money on the messy table. "Not any more, I don't." She teetered out on her too-high heels and found a taxi to her relief and went home.
    Wendy raced into the house and immediately kicked off her high heels. Hobbling a little, she went to change. Perhaps she need not tell her husband. Then she noticed the silence. Where were the boys? James' side of the bed was very rumpled. Another woman? Oh no! But there were signs of illness - a bucket near the bed, thankfully empty, cough lozenges....."God, help," she called, trying to think. Then she remembered Chris proudly showing her a picture. He was a very good artist, detailed and careful. Excellent for a six-year old.
    There under the bed - a picture!
    It showed a high cliff. A boy was half-way up. Wendy peered closer. The boy was wearing a red jumper and bue jeans. Izak! There was a moon? Yes, a moon and dark shadows. Three stick figure boys were watching. Strange. Then, in more detail, in one corner, a small boy wearing Superman clothes with a crown.
    He was shining a torch, the bright beam directed back on himself, grinning. There were words: SPEE LUN KING! explaining the crown on the little figure's head.
The mother carefully tucked the picture on the dresser, grabbed her car keys and faced the storm.

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