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moving as far away from the sound as possible. The gnawing grew louder, evolving
     into a hideous scratching on the floor, as though an animal as large as a dog or a deer was trapped beneath my bed. I held
     tight to the boys and was about to scream for Father to hurry and strike the flint and catch a spark when Mother appeared
     in the doorway with a lit lamp in her hand, revealing my bedpost, whole and uneaten, and nothing present except ourselves
     in the room.
    “The good Lord gave us light and so be it. We will burn a lamp in each room this evening and consider this matter with the
     sun on our faces tomorrow.” Mother was calm, as always, and made this pronouncement as though nothing was amiss that we could
     not address. “Richard dear, no rat will bite you, Father and I will guard your beds.” She took Joel from me into her arms
     and there was no further discussion of the trauma. She managed to balance him on her hip so his curls mashed against her shoulder,
     while motioning with her other hand that held the lamp for Richard to follow her. He jumped quickly off the bed and rushed
     to her side, clutching her nightdress with tight fingers. I saw Joel gripped her waist with his legs and her neck with locked
     hands as though he planned never to let go.
    “I want to sleep with Richard and Joel!” I cried, though I knew it was not brave. I was too scared to lie in my own bed.
    “I will sleep with John Jr.” Drewry volunteered to give his bed to me and I believe he needed his elder brother’s comfort
     as much as I needed not to sleep alone. Father nodded his agreement, but his attention was not with our sleeping arrangements.
     He lit the two remaining lamps with Mother’s flame and held them high above his head, illuminating as much of my room as possible.
    “Give one to the boys, Jack.” Mother saw him hand a lamp to John Jr. and then she left to tuck Joel and Richard in their beds.
     I wanted to jump from my bed and run after her, but her departure left a darkness at my doorway I feared to cross and I decided
     to wait until Father had finished his inspection so he might walk me down the hall.
    “What is this, Betsy?” His voice was low and quiet and his inquiry so sincere I thought he had found something previously
     hidden. I stretched forward on my hands and knees, craning my neck to see off the edge of the bed what he was referring to.
    “What is what, Father?” He did not reply to my question, but turned instead to face me, allowing the lamp to dangle from his
     hand so the room darkened and only a portion of the floor received the light.
    “Darling daughter, shall I lie with you awhile?” He suggested this, but I could see he did not really want to lie with me.
     I could hear the tiredness in his tone.
    “No, please, Father. Rather, I would go to sleep in Drewry’s bed for I am frightened, and I wish to be near the little boys
     should they awake, for they will inspire me to be brave.” I stood up quickly and Father took my hand in his and pulled me
     to him in the dark.
    “Fear not, darling daughter, I will be close at hand.” I was greatly relieved he did not wish to lie with me, for though his
     hand on my back was reassuring and his skin warm and comforting under his worn cotton nightshirt, I found the smell of the
     drink he had consumed after dinner sour and disgusting on his breath. He stepped out of our embrace but kept hold of my hand,
     raising his lamp to light our way down the hall.
    Mother was tucking the quilts around Richard and Joel when we reached the bedroom. “Go to sleep now,” she told the boys, managing
     to make it sound reasonable to try again.
    “You too, Betsy.” Father patted my behind as I hurried to be near Mother. Her lamp burned on the golden pine table under the
     window between Richard’s and Joel’s beds and there was plenty of light, enough to see that neither Richard nor Joel were crying,
     and they both looked fairly sleepy. I did not think I