“All right, all right, we’ll let him know.”
She grabbed the phone and hesitated. It would sound ridiculous to call a neighbor and say that her three-year-old had told her something was wrong. But Ethan’s urgency was far too real to ignore. She walked to the fence separating their yards. Mr. Harrison was in the garage arranging tools.
“Mr. Harrison!”
He turned, smiling kindly. “Hi, Rachel, everything okay?”
“I know this might sound strange, but have you smelled anything unusual in your house lately?”
His smile faded. “Why do you ask?”
“It’s just that my son mentioned he smelled something coming from your direction.”
“It’s probably nothing, but…” Mr. Harrison frowned. “Funny you mention it. The last couple of nights I’ve noticed a strange smell in the kitchen, kind of sweet.”
Rachel felt her stomach tighten. “Maybe it’s worth checking your gas lines.”
Mr. Harrison nodded and called the gas company. A technician arrived an hour later. Rachel was in the kitchen when she heard an urgent knock at the door. It was Mr. Harrison, his face pale.
“Rachel,” his voice was trembling. “The technician found a leak in the external gas pipe right behind the kitchen wall. He said it’s small, but it was there. If it hadn’t been found, it could have caused a dangerous buildup, a fire or worse.”
Rachel felt her legs go weak.
“How did your son know?” Mr. Harrison asked, genuinely curious. “Did he smell it from outside?”
“I don’t know.” But she knew Ethan couldn’t have smelled it. He had been playing in the backyard far from Mr. Harrison’s house, and the leak was behind a wall.
That night when Ethan was asleep, Rachel finally told Michael.
“He said the Lady in Blue told him,” she explained, watching Michael’s expression shift from skeptical to worried.
“Rachel, that was just a coincidence. It had to be.”
“How, Michael? How does a three-year-old know about a gas leak that even the neighbor didn’t notice?”
Michael had no answer.
The days passed. May arrived, bringing warmer temperatures and flowers blooming all over the garden. Ethan continued his daily conversations with the image of the Virgin Mary. Rachel watched him, now with a mixture of fascination and something she couldn’t quite name.
It was on a Tuesday, ten days after the incident with Mr. Harrison, that the second situation occurred. Rachel had gone to the pharmacy to pick up her usual medication, something for anxiety that she had been taking for years. Same prescription, same pharmacy, same routine. She arrived home and placed the bottle on the kitchen counter while putting away the rest of her groceries. Ethan was coloring at the table in the living room but stood up as soon as he saw the bottle. He walked to the kitchen, his eyes fixed on the medication.
“Mom Rachel, don’t take it.”
Rachel looked at him, puzzled. “What, sweetheart?”
“The medicine! The Lady in Blue said there’s something wrong. That if you take it, you’ll get really sick.”
Rachel felt irritation mixed with concern. She was being ridiculous, taking seriously the imagination of a three-year-old child about her medication. “Ethan, this is the same medicine I always take.”
“But it’s wrong!” His voice rose, full of urgency. “She said it’s dangerous.” Ethan grabbed Rachel’s hand, eyes wide and serious. “Please, Mom Rachel, please.”
Rachel looked at that small face, at the genuine urgency in his expression, and she thought of the gas leak.
“All right, all right, I’ll check.”
She picked up the phone and called the pharmacy. “Hi, this is Rachel Thompson. I picked up my prescription earlier today, and I’d like to confirm that everything is correct with it.”
The attendant, Janet, whom Rachel had known for years, said, “Of course, just a moment.”
Rachel waited, feeling foolish. It was just Ethan’s imagination. It had to be…
