The Sparrow Found A House (Sparrow Stories #1)

by Jason McIntire

  Chapter 26

  Whatever Befall

  “WHO??” The whole room chorused the question in complete disbelief. Mom had just gotten off the phone with someone who was “in the area” and “wanted to come stay a day or two.” It was Grandma Stortz.

  “I felt I had to tell her she was welcome,” Mrs. Sparrow said regretfully.

  “You did the right thing,” the Sergeant told her. “It’s possible she’s coming here to get information she can use against us. But then again, it’s also possible that she’s decided harassment won’t work, and she genuinely wants to make up. Either way, though, she’ll be here, and that will give us a chance to show her that we haven’t all lost our minds. Now kids, I don’t have to tell you that the way you behave toward Grandma is very important. Particularly, I don’t want to hear that any one of you has been anything but completely polite, and respectful at all times. It’s bad enough that she thinks we’re something terrible, without us doing some fool thing to make it true.”

  They all nodded solemnly – even Izzie, who had been sitting there learning how to play Catan, and felt like a member of the family after only two days in the house. “You guys are so cool and so much fun,” she remarked. “I can’t understand why your grandma doesn’t like you, or whatever.”

  “She doesn’t understand why we choose to live the way we do,” Mrs. Sparrow explained.

  “She may even think we’re a cult,” Jessie added pointedly, with a sideways glance at her friend.

  “Well I don’t,” Izzie affirmed. “I like the way you live. For a couple of days a year, anyway. You have those adorable kittens in the barn, and you cook breakfast on the stove instead of pouring it out of a box, and you do interesting things like potato fights and Catan. I’m going to be kind of sorry when my mom gets here tomorrow, actually.”

  “You may not have to worry about that just yet,” said Mr. Sparrow. “The snow forecast is up to eight inches in our area, starting in the morning. Even Grandma might not make it in.”

  “Or, she might get snowed in with us,” Jessie postulated with dread. “That would be a really ‘fun’ experience for you, Iz.”

  Izzie’s laugh suddenly melted into a grimace. “Oh man, I feel weird all over,” she shuddered sourly. “Don’t you folks think it’s hot in here? Let’s open a window.”

  Mrs. Sparrow reached over and felt the girl’s forehead. “Oh dear, you’re burning up.”

  Suddenly they noticed that Izzie’s eyes and cheeks were bright with fever. “I’m so tired,” she yawned, “I could go to sleep right here.” She plunked her head down on the table for emphasis.

  “We need to call your mother.” The Sergeant dialed his phone even as he spoke. “Mrs. Hubbert? Izzie seems to be sick. She’s... oh. I see. I hope you get to feeling better. No, don’t worry about it. We’ll take good care of her. We’ll call you if there are any further developments. Bye now.” He clicked the phone shut and licked his lips. “Crystal, you’d better call your mom back and tell her not to come. Izzie’s mother knew what I was talking about immediately, because she came down with the same thing yesterday, and is now recuperating in bed. She’s got some kind of flu bug. Izzie must have caught it from her in the car.”

  Izzie raised her head slowly. “The flu,” she repeated in a flat voice. “Joy. Did Mom go to the doctor?”

  “She didn’t have the energy to go anywhere. On the phone, he told her to stay in bed and keep taking aspirin. If it got worse he was going to give her a prescription, but she said she’s starting to feel better.”

  “I just totally hate being sick,” Izzie groaned. “And – oh no! I’ve probably given it to all you guys too!”

  They assured her to not worry about it, though all of them were thinking the same thing.

  “I think I’ll just go to bed now,” Izzie planned, “and try to sleep it off before it gets worse. That sometimes works.” She stood up, did a sort of woozy pirouette, and sat back down. “I can do this,” she muttered to herself. Between her own efforts and those of some family members, Izzie got up to her bed – but they all knew that she wouldn’t be going anywhere from there. Soon the only sound from upstairs was the patient alternately snoring and groaning.

  When they returned to the living room, Mom had more bad news. “Grandma is determined to come anyway. Her exact words were ‘I’ve had my flu shot; I’ll be fine.’”

  “This is sounding less and less like a friendly social call,” worried the Sergeant, “but we can’t back out now.”

  “On the subject of the world falling apart,” Jessie put in hesitantly, “I don’t feel too good myself.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of.” The Sergeant shook his head ruefully. “I’m going to call Mrs. Scroggins and tell her to keep Katie over in the guest house when they get here, so they at least can stay clear of this germ. Everybody still healthy may want to sleep in the guest house tonight as well.”

  Jessie had been planning to spend the night on the couch and keep quarantined from Izzie, but by bedtime there was obviously no point to it. She already had the full nasty, achy package, and was so sapped of energy that she could barely get into bed on her own steam. Once there, she immediately went catatonic – not quite asleep, but half-awake in an unsettled state of fevered dozing. If only she could go to sleep! But she couldn’t. Not until this building was built. One more brick. Two more. Oh no, the wall’s coming down!

  Jessie rolled over with great effort, realizing that none of her fever-scrambled thoughts made any sense. Yet even knowing that with one part of her brain, she was still “solving problems” with another part. The inheritance has to be divided without going to court. If we go to court, the lawyers will take it all. That always happens. And the war, the war – what are we going to do about the war, if the Egyptians come in on the other side?

  Izzie was moaning from across the room, probably lost in her own ridiculous dreams. Suddenly she spoke out very distinctly. “Wum,” she announced in a matter-of-fact tone. “Everything’s wum. Makes you dunt.”

  In spite of her misery, Jessie had to wheeze out a laugh. Izzie was a riot, even passed out with the flu.

  Waking after two hours of hot, fitful sleep, Jessie saw her mother in the room changing sheets. Immediately she felt better, and began to drift off again as her mother sang Be Thou My Vision in her soft and sweet alto voice.

  “Waking or sleeping, thy Presence my light,” the words said. Jessie echoed the thought in a prayer as her mind slipped into the dark again. Be my light, Jesus. Jessie fell asleep as Mom finished the song, “Heart of my own heart, whatever befall, still be my vision, O Ruler of all.”