by Donis Casey
“Hush, honey, hush.” He spoke right into Phoebe’s ear as she squirmed in his arms. “Look, here’s Zeltha! Hold her while me and Gee Dub dig John Lee out. Look, honey. Zeltha needs you.”
Gee Dub thrust Zeltha into her mother’s arms, and Phoebe squatted down on the ground with her, freezing and bruised, but refusing to go any further. She had no idea how long she hunkered there, with her skirt tucked around her bare feet and Zeltha pressed against her breast, watching her father and brother dig through the rubble. At intervals, Shaw or Gee Dub would call John Lee’s name, then stand still for a few seconds, listening. Thus far there had been no response.
Phoebe caught sight of a dim spot of light coming up the path. Kurt, carrying a lantern, and Charlie. She could tell who it was by the lightning illumination.
She ran to meet them and was in the midst of explaining the situation when Shaw yelled, “He’s here!”
Phoebe tried to follow Kurt and Charlie up the woodpile that had once been the barn but Shaw grabbed her arm. “Stay out of the way, honey.”
“Is he alive, Daddy?”
Shaw would not keep the situation from her. “I can’t tell yet, darlin’. But you can’t help. Think of Zeltha and this other little one who need their mother right now.”
999
They began to dig with fingers and sticks. Miraculously, Kurt found a shovel and a hoe, both of which worked well as prying instruments and speeded things along considerably. They worked by the light of Kurt’s kerosene lamp. Shaw insisted they dig slowly to avoid a disastrous shift of the rubble, but inch by agonizing inch, John Lee was disinterred.
The rescuers took turns standing over John Lee’s head, shielding his face from the rain with their coats and bodies.
It took all of them to lift a beam from the barn roof which had fallen across one leg, and then he was free. Shaw knelt down and ran his hands over the limp figure, briefly assessing the damage before attempting to move him. It didn’t take much of an examination to feel several raw, pulpy wounds and a couple of broken bones. John Lee’s right leg was bent at an odd angle. Shaw could feel breath on the back of his neck as his other boys anxiously huddled close, trying to see what was happening.
John Lee’s eyes fluttered open briefly. “Water,” he croaked.
If his tears hadn’t been warmer than the rain, Shaw might not have known he was weeping with relief.
Phoebe appeared at his side, desperate to get to John Lee. Shaw blinked at the bedraggled figure in the sodden housedress, not quite sure how she had gotten past him. She was so agitated that Shaw feared she would go into labor then and there.
He looked up at Gee Dub, standing behind her. “Gee Dub, get Phoebe and Zeltha out of here. Take them back to the house. See if you can find her some shoes and a coat and get them to Mary’s house. Your ma is over there now. ”
“No, Daddy!” Phoebe protested, but Shaw cut her off.
“Phoebe, you’re making it harder for us. Me and Kurt will get him out and rig up a stretcher. Honey, we’ll bring him to you as fast as we can. You’re going to hurt the baby and Zeltha’s going to end up with pneumonia. Get back to the house and take care of that child before she freezes clean to death. Gee Dub, go on. Hurry up, now. Charlie, go with them and bring me back some drinking water and see if you can find another lamp.”
Gee Dub Tucker
Gee Dub dragged Phoebe most of the way back to the half-a-house, but as soon as they were out of sight of what was left of the barn, she stopped struggling and allowed Gee Dub to lead her, docile as a lamb.
Since the kitchen had disappeared Charlie couldn’t find any water, so he left with a glass of sweet tea that was still standing on the bedside table and a couple of sodden candles that would be useless in the rain.
Zeltha had fallen into an exhausted sleep against Gee Dub’s shoulder. He laid her down, still asleep, on her parents’ bed, and wrapped the quilts around her. He sat Phoebe in the corner rocker and threw a quilt over her while he rummaged through the clothes press, hunting for something warm for her to wear over her housedress. It was downright cold, now, and three walls were no adequate shelter against the drizzly rain.
No coats. They had probably kept their coat tree in the parlor, the contents of which were more than likely in Missouri by now. Gee Dub cast a glance over his shoulder at the bedraggled figure huddled in the chair. He could hear her teeth chattering from across the room, whether from cold or shock he couldn’t tell. He pulled out one of John Lee’s flannel work shirts and a woolen shawl and seized a pair of Phoebe’s shoes and some stockings. She limply allowed him to slip the shirt and shawl over her dress. He knelt down and slid her feet into the stockings and shoes, talking gently to her all the while. Her feet were bloody. He knelt there on the floor for a moment, overcome with a feeling of unreality as he looked out at night where the wall had been an hour earlier.
Why am I so calm, he wondered? He stood and took Phoebe’s hands to pull her up. They were black with mud and blood, her fingers shredded. If they were hurting, she didn’t show it. Gee Dub briefly considered first aid, but where was he going to get water to wash her wounds or clean bandages to wrap them?
He picked up the sleeping child and arranged her against his shoulder, then tucked his free arm around his sister. “Come on, now,” he urged. “Let’s go to Mama.”
“Is John Lee dead?” Phoebe’s voice was small.
Gee Dub was firm. “No. Daddy and Kurt and Charlie are pulling him out of the mud right now.” He fervently hoped it was so. He led her out through the gaping hole, across the yard and toward the path that led to the Lukenbach farm.
Phoebe straightened in Gee Dub’s grasp. “Let me hold my girl. Soon as I get her to Mama and get some proper clothes on, I’ve got to get back here to John Lee.”
The tenor of her voice had changed in the blink of an eye. Gee Dub was not surprised. He knew his sisters. Phoebe didn’t have time to be weak right now when there was work to be done.
The rain had let up but a fine mist was in the air, so fine that it barely wet their hair. Gee Dub handed Zeltha to her mother, hoping that Phoebe had enough strength left to manage the girl’s leaden weight. When they reached the path, he moved ahead of her in order to remove any impediments.
Behind him as they walked, Phoebe began to talk. “Me and Zeltha were alone in the house, Gee. When the ceiling started to cave in I knew we were in for it, so I stuffed her under the dresser. I’d have got under there with her but there’s too much of me right now, so I just scrunched down as close to her as I could and held on. I swear, Gee Dub, the walls moved in and out like they were breathing! Then the roof lifted off like a lid and then sat right back down again. Then…I swan! There was a noise like I never heard in all my born days, and half the house was just gone! I couldn’t even believe what I was seeing, all hunkered down there just staring at the front yard instead of the wall like I should have been. Jesus was watching over us sure, Gee, ’cause if we hadn’t been in the bedroom we’d be gone, too!”
Trenton Calder
It didn’t take me and Ruth long to realize that we weren’t going to get very far on the road to her folks’ farm. Truth is, there wasn’t hardly any road anymore. The wind had scrubbed it right off the face of the earth and laid the ground over with broken trees and pieces of barns and furniture and dead animals. We didn’t see any dead people, thank the Lord, but that’s just because we didn’t go far.
I had to talk faster than a carney in order to persuade her that this was a bad idea. “Better wait until light so we can see where we’re going. Otherwise we’ll end up riding around in circles all night and that won’t do your folks any good. Besides, they’ve all got root cellars, so even if they’ve got storm damage, they’re all right.”
I didn’t think she was going to listen until I suggested that we go back to Alice’s and see what the Kelleys had to say about the situation. Wal
ter let us in when we got there. Alice was sitting in an armchair with the new baby, and the oldest Tucker sister, Martha, was pacing up and down the floor just as concerned about her family as Ruth was. I was glad to see that Martha’s betrothed, Streeter McCoy, was there, too. I admired Streeter McCoy a bunch. If anybody was going to figure this thing out, it was him. He was Boynton’s town treasurer, which means that he had a good head for figuring.
He didn’t waste time. “It’s cold, raining, and black as sin out there,” he said to the women. “Trent couldn’t even find the road a bit ago. Now, I’m as worried as you all are, so I suggest that Trent and I take a couple of good lanterns, some tools, and maybe some quilts, if you’ve got some to spare, Alice, and we’ll see if we can pick our way through the mess on horseback. Walter needs to stay here with Alice, and, besides, I’ll feel better if you all have a man around tonight.”
That plan went down with the Tucker girls all right, so me and Streeter loaded up and walked over to the livery to saddle him a horse. While he was busy getting ready, I stopped in at Scott’s house. I reckon him and his wife Hattie didn’t know where I was until I showed up at their door, so Hattie fussed over me and Scott acted put out until I told them what I had been up to. Scott had already walked around town to look at the damage and had sent a couple volunteers out north and west of town to check on the farms. I told him what we were planning and left to meet Streeter in front of Mr. Turner’s livery.
The streetlights were out and a steady rain was falling when we set out. We could barely see five feet in front of ourselves.
“This is a fool’s errand. You know we’re not going to get out there tonight,” I said after taking fifteen minutes to get a hundred yards. We still couldn’t find the junction for the road to the Tucker farm. “It’d be a whole lot smarter to wait until daylight.”
I couldn’t even see Streeter’s face when he spoke up. “Why’d you come, then?” I figured he was chiding me for my faintheartedness, but he didn’t sound angry.
“Well, if I hadn’t made the effort, Ruth would have gone haring off in the dark by herself.”
He chuckled at that. “She’d have had to knock Martha out of the way. We may not get anywhere till morning, but at least if we try, the ladies will stay put for a while.”
Alafair Tucker
Shaw and his sons managed to rig a stretcher out of coats and boards and they carried John Lee the half mile over the bare field and across the road to the Lukenbach farm. Mary had already brought her mother and sisters back to her barely damaged house, where the children were piled together like puppies, sound asleep on a heap of blankets in one corner of the extra bedroom. Alafair and Mary were fussing over Phoebe with hot bricks wrapped in flannel, salve and bandages for ravaged feet and hands, and cups of warming tea. But the kitchen table was cleared in a trice when the rescuers arrived with the wounded man. John Lee was in and out of consciousness. He roused himself when Phoebe bent over him.
“Zeltha…” he managed.
“She’s fine, darlin’,” Phoebe said. “And so am I. And you’re going to be fine, too.”
Shaw drew Alafair and Mary aside. “His right leg is broken,” he murmured. “He might have a broken jaw. I know he’s got some busted teeth. Y’all can see to his cuts, and I can set that leg. It looks like a clean break. But I can’t tell about his innards. Or worse, his head. He needs a doctor.”
“Kurt can fetch one.” Mary volunteered her husband.
But Gee Dub was close enough to hear the conversation. “I’ll go, Dad. Kurt and Charlie can come with me back home and check on the livestock. They can take care of the animals while I ride in for Doc Addison. ”
Shaw and Alafair glanced at one another. The likelihood was that at least a few animals had been killed or wounded by the storm. It was cruel to let them suffer any longer than need be.
Shaw nodded. “All right. Kurt, you have some firearms handy?”
“I do, sir.” Kurt looked grim, and Charlie, uncharacteristically, had nothing to say.
“Mary and me will help Daddy with John Lee,” Alafair said, “so you fellows get on. Judging by the direction of the wind, the worst of the storm probably missed Boynton, but Gee Dub, you be sure to check on the other girls while you’re in town.”
The boys had barely walked out of the house when a commotion in the yard caused Alafair’s heart to jump into her mouth. What fresh disaster could possibly have befallen them now? She hurried out the back door with Shaw and Mary, leaving Phoebe to tend John Lee.
In the dark it was hard to see what the dust-up was, at least until Alafair raised her kerosene lamp high enough to cast some light into the yard.
Kurt, Gee Dub, and Charlie were trying to catch a horse.
The horse was fully saddled, a tall roan with a light-colored mane and tail. He was probably a handsome animal, though it was hard to tell, what with the dark night and the coat of mud on him. How he had managed to survive the storm all in one piece was a wonder. All four of his limbs were certainly in working order, the front two currently flailing at his would-be rescuers, his eyes white-rimmed with panic. The men had encircled the terrified animal and were trying to calm him with soft words and soothing noises, but he was having none of it. His agenda consisted of nothing more than escape, and he reared and whirled himself in a counterclockwise circle, looking for a gap between the outstretched arms of his tormenters big enough to bolt through.
Once he reared and whirled, and twice, and three times, before Shaw managed to catch the whipping reins and expertly calm him into a standstill. As Shaw stroked the heaving horse’s muzzle and murmured into his ear, Charlie checked him quickly for injuries.
“He’s full of splinters and he’s got a bad-looking puncture wound on his thigh,” Charlie exclaimed, “but nothing’s broken that I can find. Looks like somebody was riding him when the storm hit, Daddy.” Charlie was running his hand over the tooled leather saddle. “Maybe we’d better go out and see if we can find the rider. He might be off in a ditch hurt.”
“I’m afraid whoever was riding that horse is dead.”
Shaw turned his head to look at Alafair, who was still standing in the door with Mary. Her comment surprised him. “What makes you say that, hon?”
A flash of lightning in the distance illuminated her face just enough for Shaw to see her grim expression. “Yonder beast just turned three times widdershins. Someone has died, sure enough.”
He handed the reins to Kurt. “Take this animal to shelter, son, then you and the boys set to your task.”
The young man’s wide blue eyes regarded his father-in-law with confusion. “What does she mean, sir, widdershins?” Having been born and raised in Germany, Kurt often required an explanation for some term or another.
Shaw glanced at Alafair, and when he answered, he kept his voice low. “The horse circled three times to the left, contrary to the path of the sun. It’s the sign of the unnatural. Alafair’s likely right about the rider. Women know these things, Kurt, that’s been my observation. Now, get on.”
Gee Dub Tucker
The horse was docile enough as Kurt led him to the barn, but when the boys tried to get him into a stall, all bets were off. He shied and skittered, reared and tried to bite. Kurt was barely able to keep hold of the reins and avoid having his head staved in by a hoof, but it wasn’t until Gee Dub managed to throw a feed sack over the animal’s eyes that they were able to get him into a stall and unsaddled. Charlie pumped a measured amount of water into a bucket and threw some oats into the feed box, and the horse drank thirstily while Kurt examined the wound on his hip.
Odd. It was a narrow puncture wound, maybe an inch wide. It wasn’t bleeding and the edges were clean, but swollen. Whatever had pierced him wasn’t still in the wound. Kurt hastily washed the wound and covered it with a clean cloth. That was all he had time for at the moment.
They left the unlucky
beast blindfolded and tied in the stall and the three young men set out down the path back to the Tucker farm. The stable where Shaw kept his riding stock had lost a corner of its tin roof, but was otherwise intact. The horses in their stalls were restless but unhurt, so Kurt and Charlie took lanterns and headed for the pasture where the mules and draft horses had ridden out the storm. They left Gee Dub to saddle his own chestnut mare, Penny, for his trek into Boynton.
Penny had been Gee Dub’s mount since she was a long-legged filly and he was a scrawny lad, and they had grown into one another comfortably. He had never found another horse he liked better. She was curious and oddly playful, for a horse, which had always appealed to Gee Dub’s wry sense of humor.
He hung an unlit lantern on the saddle horn and swung himself up onto her back. The lightning was sporadic now as the storm receded into the distance, and the night was black as a bucket of pitch. A light, gritty snow was blowing about, a strange phenomenon that sometimes happened in the wake of a twister, even in the middle of summer. Gee Dub was sure it wouldn’t last long, but it added to the general misery of the situation. He buttoned the top button of his coat and pulled his hat down low on his forehead as he made the turn out of the drive and onto the road that led to town.
He let the mare pick her own way through the rubble strewn across the road, and he could tell by her gait that the normally well-packed dirt road had become a sucking, muddy bog. The trip to Boynton from the farm normally took no more than twenty or thirty minutes on horseback, but forty minutes after he left, Gee Dub didn’t seem to be any closer to town than when he started.
In fact, he didn’t rightly know where he was. Was he even still on the road? He didn’t think so. There was vegetation on the ground, and it was rutted, as though it had once been plowed. A fallow field. He couldn’t see worth a darn. It was so black that he couldn’t get his night eyes, and he wondered if the horse was as blind as he was. He swallowed a momentary pang of unreasonable fear. Even if he got hopelessly lost, the sun would come up eventually and he’d find his way home.
