Whispering Hope

by Marsha Hubler

  Everyone burst into laughter except Wanda, but this time Skye detected the slightest hint of a smile on Wanda’s face.

  “So,” Mr. Chambers said, “Can we have your word of honor that you’ll not sneak to the barn anymore?”

  Wanda said nothing and stared at her plate still halffull of food.

  Mrs. Chambers finished her drink. “Wanda, our family, the one you are part of for the next year, discusses everything. Our love for one another is built on trust. If you don’t like something, tell us about it. We want to help you and we want you to feel like part of this family.” Mrs. Chambers reached and touched Wanda’s hand. “We love you.”

  Although Wanda abruptly pulled away without a word, she stared into Mrs. Chambers’ eyes as if she were thinking, Is she for real?

  “Yes, she’s for real,” Skye said.

  “And about the cigarettes,” Mr. Chambers said. “We’d appreciate your turning all of them into us like you were supposed to when you first came. With God’s help, and ours, you can kick that habit before it takes a good hold of your system.”

  “And now is as good a time as any.” Mrs. Chambers smiled at Wanda. “Come on. I’ll escort you to your room and we can have ourselves a little hunt.”

  “Tsk,” Wanda said. She pushed away from the table and trudged back down the hallway like a prisoner on her way to the gallows.

  When Wanda was out of earshot, Morgan whispered, “Mr. C., she’s not going to give them up that easily.”

  Skye added, “When Mom’s not watching her at Maranatha, she can get a fresh supply from the other kids.”

  “We know,” Mr. Chambers said. “We know.”

  Chapter Seven

  Easy, Rebel!” Chad said, trying to calm down the wild Mustang in the training corral the next Saturday. As usual, when either Chad or Skye worked the horse, Rebel would allow them to get only within inches of his muzzle, and then he’d balk.

  Skye stood outside the corral, watching the progress, or lack of it. “He’s one stubborn mule, isn’t he, Chad?”

  “You can say that again.” Chad slipped out of the corral between the rails and joined Skye, who had crossed her arms on the top rail of the fence.

  “He must have been abused awfully bad,” Skye said. “But he’ll come around. I just know it.”

  “Patience and tough love, my dear.” Chad gave Skye his best dimpled smile.

  Skye gulped and her heart did back flips. He called me “dear.” She gave Chad a return smile and then glanced at her watch. “It’s two o’clock already. We’ve been out here over an hour, and nothing’s happened yet. It’s been two weeks since we started.”

  “Speaking of nothing happening,” Chad said, “how’s Wanda, the other rebel, doing?”

  “Why do you ask?” Skye said. Yes, why would you ask about her, Chad Dressler!

  “Just curious,” Chad said. “A few of us Youth for Truth kids are praying for her.”

  Skye leaned her chin on her arm and stared at Rebel, who was, as usual, facing in the opposite direction. “Not much better, I guess. She won’t talk to me unless it’s a slam. Her favorite name for me is ‘horse breath.’ Sheesh! She hangs out at the pool table all the time, and she even sleeps in the game room. If Mom would let Wanda eat there, she’d never come out. Really strange.”

  “I saw that futon next to the computers and wondered about it,” Chad said.

  “That futon is right underneath my bedroom, and you should hear the way she yells in her sleep. She has really bad nightmares, and that’s probably why she won’t sleep in her bedroom. It’s right next to Mom’s and Dad’s room, and she doesn’t want them to hear her carrying on.”

  “Who knows what might have happened to her when she was a little kid,” Chad said. “Do you know why her father’s in prison?”

  “Nope. She won’t talk about it. At least, not with me. She won’t talk about anything with me.”

  “How’s she doing with her smoking?”

  “I’m not sure. I haven’t smelled any smoke on her lately, and I haven’t seen any butts lying around anywhere, but she’s street smart. She could be stashing them anywhere.”

  “Patience and tough love, my dear.”

  Dear? Twice in one day. Chad’s smile sent Skye’s heart into another aerobic routine.

  “How’s Rebel doing?” Mrs. Chambers asked, coming up behind Skye and Chad.

  “No breakthrough yet, Mom.” Skye turned toward Mrs. Chambers and saw Wanda standing right beside her.

  “Hi, Wanda,” Skye said.

  As usual, Wanda donned her ball cap and same old clothes. But instead of her high top sneakers, Wanda was wearing riding boots.

  Wanda barely glanced at Skye and said nothing.

  Chad squared his Stetson. “Mrs. C., Sooner or later, Rebel’s got to realize that we want to help him, not hurt him,” he said and then added, “Howdy, Wanda.”

  “So, Wanda,” Skye said staring at Wanda’s boots, “I see your tootsies have a new wardrobe. That can only mean one thing: it’s your big day to ride a horse.”

  “Whatever,” Wanda grumbled, hanging her thumbs on her jean pockets and masquerading tough. “I rode horses lots when I was a kid.”

  Well, that’s a barefaced lie, Skye thought. She’s just saying that to impress Chad.

  “So, you’ve ridden horses before, Wanda? How interesting,” Chad said, giving Skye a quick wink.

  Skye slipped out a sly smile then studied Wanda, noting an air of nervousness that oozed out all over, no matter how cool the girl tried to be. “I remember my first ride on Champ,” Skye said, “and I was shaking in my boots until I realized how gorgeous and well-trained he was.”

  Mrs. Chambers beamed with obvious delight over Wanda’s progress. “I think Wanda’s ready to take that big step. She’s already had a handful of lessons on grooming, tacking, and leading a horse. And she hasn’t done half bad for someone who says she hates horses. Wanda, stay here, and I’ll go get Lucy.”

  “You’ll do great,” Chad said to Wanda. “Just let the horse teach you. Lucy’s got years of experience under her cinch, so it should be a cinch!”

  Skye giggled, but Wanda folded her arms and just stared at Chad.

  As Mrs. Chambers led Lucy out of the barn, Skye again studied Wanda’s face, which almost seemed to light up at the sight of the horse. I think she really does want to ride, but she’s too stubborn to admit it.

  “Wanda and I are going into the pasture,” Mrs. Chambers said to Skye and Chad. “You two may carry on your work with Rebel. I don’t think we’ll get in each other’s way.”

  “Okay, Mom,” Skye said as Chad slipped into the corral with Rebel. “We’ll stay out of your horsehair, if you’ll stay out of ours.”

  Everyone laughed but Wanda.

  Skye woke up in the middle of the night with her mouth as dry as a ball of cotton. She rolled over and glanced at her clock’s bold red numbers. “Two thirty,” she moaned to herself. “I gotta have a drink.”

  Struggling to stay awake, she forced herself out of bed and slouched her way toward her bedroom door. As she glanced at the mirror, a bright light jabbed at her sleepy eyes. She rubbed them and looked again, then turned quickly toward the window. Her gaze drifted outside, down past the yard and to the barn, where billows of smoke and a geyser of orange flames were erupting out of the one corner of the hayloft.

  “Oh, no!” she yelled. “The barn’s on fire!” She charged out of her room to Mr. and Mrs. Chambers’ door and pounded so hard the whole wall shook. “Mom, Dad! The barn’s on fire! I’ll call 911!”

  “What?” Mrs. Chambers mumbled.

  “The barn’s on fire!” Skye screamed. “We’ve got to get the horses out!” She raced into the dining room and made the emergency call with her trembling hands barely able to hold the phone.

  Mr. Chambers shot out of his room, still slipping into his shirt and buckling his belt. Mrs. Chambers followed right on his heels, yanking a sweatshirt over her disheveled hair. Both bore expres
sions of panic, the likes of which Skye had never seen before. Mr. Chambers charged out of the sliding glass door and sprinted toward the barn.

  Grasping the door, Mrs. Chambers paused. “Skye, tell Morgan to stay in the house. Oh, and go down and get Wanda. She can help. Hurry.”

  Skye ran back the hall, banged on Morgan’s door and burst into the room.

  Morgan had already sat up and had turned on her light. “Skye!” A look of horror masked her face.

  “Mom wants you to stay in the house,” Skye ordered as she turned to leave. “Just pray.”

  Skye raced back into her room, tugged on her jeans and boots and scrambled toward the basement. She flipped on the light and hurried down the stairs two, three at a time. “Wanda!” she screamed, but Wanda was not there—and her bed was neatly made.

  Skye tore out of the basement and ran as fast as her legs could go toward the barn.

  Thick smoke billowed from the second floor where hay bales were stored, and flames licked boards around an open window. Mr. Chambers was desperately wielding water from a garden hose at the angry flames.

  Hooves pounding the ground, Lucy bolted out of the barn. Ears plastered against her head and nostrils flaring, she ran past Skye, off into the cool dark of the night.

  “Skye!” Mr. Chambers yelled. “Get the horses out!”

  “Skye, in here!” Mrs. Chambers called. “Help me open these stalls and the horses will run out on their own!”

  Skye darted into the barn filled with white smoke that was growing denser. Lungs burning with what she had already inhaled, she held her breath as long as she could, but her body soon demanded more air. Pressing her nose against her arm, she noticed that the lights were on. Through the swirling white film, Skye could see Mrs. Chambers moving quickly at the other end of the barn.

  Skye ran toward Mrs. Chambers who was coughing and opening Rebel’s stall. With a horse’s natural fear of fire, Rebel needed no prodding. Releasing high-pitched squeals, he barreled out of the doorway, nearly trampling Skye on his way out.

  In the distance, blaring sirens brought help closer and closer. Skye only prayed it wasn’t too late.

  Skye’s lungs felt like she had breathed in the fire itself, and her eyes burned as she ran to Champ’s stall, fumbled with the latch, and yanked open both Dutch doors. “Easy, Champ,” she coughed as he nickered and pranced. She grabbed his halter and led him out of the stall toward the open doorway. “Go on, boy,” she coughed, slapping him on his rump. “You’re okay. Now go.”

  As though charging out of a starting gate at a racetrack, Champ took off.

  Skye and Mrs. Chambers released the remaining four horses that raced out of the barn. Nose buried in her arm, Mrs. Chambers quickly surveyed the situation, and Skye did the same. Although smoke had penetrated the entire ground floor of the barn, Skye couldn’t see any flames through her stinging, watery eyes.

  “C’mon.” Coughing, Mrs. Chambers started running toward the door. “We need to get some fresh air.”

  Skye followed Mrs. Chambers outside just as two screaming fire engines, a tanker, and an ambulance, all with flashing lights, barreled down the driveway and pulled a short distance from the barn. The trucks and their commotion lit up the place like a firemen’s carnival. As far as Skye could tell, about ten firemen scrambled from the trucks and started their assigned tasks.

  Moving to the far side of the barn, Mr. Chambers continued to spray water on the fire. “I think it just started!” he yelled to anyone who would listen.

  “Is there anyone in the barn?” one fireman yelled.

  “No!” Mr. Chambers yelled. “We just got all the horses out!”

  Another fireman asked, “Do you have a pond on your property?”

  “Yes,” Mr. Chambers answered, “at the bottom of the fenced-in pasture.”

  “Freeburg’s trucks should be here any sec,” the fireman said. “Open your gate so their tanker can fill up.”

  Mr. Chambers dropped the hose and raced toward the gate.

  Skye stared at the scene while two men quickly slid a large plastic holding tank off the truck and started pumping water from the tanker into it. One fireman grabbed some kind of line or hose from another truck and pulled it to the plastic tank where he plugged it in. Two other men shoulder-loaded a hose from the first truck and stretched it the length of the barn. A pair of men from another truck donned breathing apparatus, grabbed fire extinguishers and hatchets, and started toward the barn.

  The men with the outstretched hose started spraying water on the flames in the loft while two men from the second truck prepped their hose.

  Still coughing, Skye watched the firemen perform their duties with the precision that only drill after drill had produced. Every man knew exactly what to do to put out the fire and save the barn from total destruction.

  Out of the ambulance hopped two EMTs. Carrying small cases, they rushed toward Mrs. Chambers and Skye. “Are you all right?” asked a chubby female in a navy blue uniform.

  Mrs. Chambers gestured toward Skye and spoke through a series of coughs. “We…got our lungs full of smoke, but we’re okay. Just let us…catch our breath.”

  “Do you need any oxygen?” a tall, thin EMT with a beard asked.

  “I think…we’re okay,” Skye managed to say. “We were in the barn…just long enough to get the horses out.”

  Gasping, Mr. Chambers joined the group while his glare never left the barn.

  “Sir,” the male EMT asked Mr. Chambers, “are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” Mr. Chambers said. “I didn’t breathe in any smoke…I’m just winded.”

  With blasting sirens and flashing lights, three more fire trucks and another ambulance barreled down the driveway. They clattered to the far side of the barn and pulled to a screeching halt. One busy fireman in front of the barn ran to the tanker and shouted something to the driver. As the firemen hopped off the engines, the tanker backed up, maneuvered around the other trucks, and headed toward the pond.

  Mrs. Chambers grabbed Skye by both shoulders and glared into her face. “Skye…where’s Wanda?”

  Skye’s eyes grew as round as saucers. “Mom…I completely forgot to tell you…she wasn’t in her bed.” She then pointed at the barn. “She might be in there!”

  “Wan-da!” Mrs. Chambers screamed and started running toward the barn, but Mr. Chambers grabbed her arm and stopped her. “You stay here!” he yelled. “I’ll go in.”

  “You can’t go in there!” an EMT yelled.

  “I have to,” he said. “One of our girls is in there!”

  Mr. Chambers ran to a firemen gearing up and told him about Wanda.

  “Mike!” the fireman yelled back to the hosemen. “There might be a kid in there. We’re going in.”

  “Okay,” one said. Turning his water on, he and his partner streamed a second powerful surge of water into the barn’s loft.

  Skye and Mrs. Chambers stood clearing their lungs and watching while Mr. Chambers followed the firemen into the barn. Skye glanced back at the house and saw Morgan and two dogs looking out the sliding glass door. Flames from the fire and the flashing lights lit up the entire Keystone Stables yard. Skye took a quick count to make sure that all the horses were safe. All six had settled a comfortable distance from the fire and were indulging in an early morning snack of dewy grass.

  Into the driveway pulled a pick-up truck that Skye knew belonged to their next-door neighbor, Mr. Garside. Just seconds behind, two other cars also pulled in. Mr. Garside jumped out of the truck and came running toward the group. The drivers of the other cars, also neighbors, came running.

  “I heard the sirens!” Mr. Garside yelled with excitement. A John Deere ball cap fit snuggly on his gray head, and his plump, tanned face beaded with perspiration. “It looks like they got here in time.”

  “This is not a night to sleep soundly,” another neighbor said, forcing out a laugh.

  “Can we do anything to help?” the third man asked.

 
; “One of our girls might be in there.” Mrs. Chambers’ voice quivered as she wiped a barrage of tears from her face and tried to clear her lungs. “She likes to sleep in the barn.”

  “I’m going in,” Mr. Garside said, turning toward the barn.

  “Oh, no you’re not.” The male EMT grabbed the man by his T-shirt. “You’ll be more help if you just stay here with these ladies.”

  Skye watched the action, running her fingers through her hair, chewing her lip, and coughing. Her stare darted from the scrambling firemen to the shooting flames and billowing smoke to the open door of the barn and back. Soon the tanker at the bottom of the field came racing up, ready with a fresh water supply. But within minutes, the powerful hoses from the first two trucks had put out the flames, and all that seemed damaged on the barn was the one corner and, of course, the damaged hay bales inside.

  As the firemen stretched out their now silent hoses, Mr. Chambers, coughing, hurried out of the barn. Mrs. Chambers and Skye, still struggling with their own breaths, rushed to his side.

  “Tom, where’s Wanda?” Mrs. Chambers could hardly contain herself.

  Skye’s eyes stung with hot tears and she felt her face flush with fear. “Dad, did you find her?”

  Mr. Chambers let out another string of coughs and then struggled to force out his next few words. “She’s not in there!”

  Chapter Eight

  Thank the Lord,” Mrs. Chambers said with a huge sigh of relief. “But…where could she be?”

  Mr. Chambers turned and started hurrying toward the house. “I’ll call the local authorities and ask them to be on the lookout for Wanda. I’ll be right back.”

  “Maybe she’s in town,” Skye said to Mrs. Chambers and Morgan.

  “But nothing’s open in the wee hours of the night except the donut shop,” Morgan said. “And, somehow, I don’t think Wanda’s into donuts.”

  “I just pray she’s okay, wherever she is,” Mrs. Chambers said, her voice cracking.