Jamie sat as still as a stone while Jenny spread the salve over the open wounds. She knew it had to hurt when her fingers rubbed against the raw flesh, but he didn’t flinch, just stared ahead, moving only when she instructed him to. When she was done, he got back on his bed, settled himself against the pillows and opened the book. Jenny looked at him for a short moment, her hands propped on her hips, then slapped the lid back on the jar of salve. Jamie’s eyebrows twitched at her exaggerated motions, but he kept his eyes on the pages before him. Jenny began straightening the room, slamming cupboard doors, kicking chairs out of her way. Sister Mary Frances left the two to work it out for themselves.
Jenny finally had to leave the room. She was boiling over with frustration, and she knew that exploding would do more harm than good at the present time. Jamie had totally ignored her for the rest of the afternoon, giving all his attention to the book in front of him, as if he had never seen it before. She knew he had read Oliver Twist many times, could practically quote it by heart, so he wasn’t fooling her with his act. She tore out of the mission as if chased by demons and headed towards the orchard at a full run. She ran into the stand of trees and didn’t stop until she reached the end, where the trees gave way to a field that rolled down towards the buildings of St. Jo, just barely visible in the distance. Jenny threw her arms around a bud-laden tree and laid her forehead against the rough bark, willing her heart to slow down, the blood to stop rushing around in her head. She needed to be patient. Jamie’s wounds were deeper than his skin. Jenny raised her head with a start and whirled away from the tree.
“He’s blaming himself!” she said to no one in particular. Jamie had been charging down the ladder to help his father when the lantern exploded in his face. He hadn’t been able to stop the murder of his parents; he probably would have died himself, and Jenny along with him, if he hadn’t been stopped by the burning oil. Jenny’s first impulse was to run back to the mission and knock some sense into her bull-headed brother, but for once she hesitated. “I need to give him tune.” She said it out loud, so that she could make better sense of the entire situation. “He’ll realize it soon enough.”
The decision made, she immediately felt better. Then the realization hit her that the words and tone she had used had sounded just like her mother. She grasped her upper arms in her hands and looked heavenward, trying to spot some blue sky between the white blossoms that waved so lightly in the fresh spring air. “Oh, Momma, help me to help him, please,” she prayed. The branches sighed and swayed above her, die scent caressing her senses like the gentle touch of her mother’s hand. Jenny inhaled deeply, taking the scents inside her to help her make it through the night in the dark rooms of the mission. She felt better, she felt refreshed, she was strengthened. She would tackle Jamie again tomorrow. She would bring him out here so he could find the same peace that she had. She started back to the mission with a determined step, but stopped short when she came upon Logan and Joe.
They were lounging against a tree, obviously hiding from their chores. She knew they had been spying on her by the smirks on their self-satisfied faces.
“Hey, Joe, maybe they should lock her up with her ugly brother,” Logan said to his buddy, his eyes on Jenny.
“Why?” Joe looked at Jenny and gave a nervous little giggle.
“Cuz she’s crazy. You saw how she was out here talkin’ to the trees, thinkin’ they were her dead mom.”
“Maybe she’ll think the barn is her dad,” Joe added.
“Or maybe better, she’ll think he’s the jackass.” Logan smiled evilly at her. Jenny balled her right hand into a fist and punched him in the nose, driving his head back into the tree he was lounging against. Blood began gushing out, and he grabbed his nose with both hands, trying to stop the flow trickling between his fingers.
“She broke my nose,” he cried out. Joe nervously looked at Jenny, who was rubbing her fist, then back at his friend. He didn’t seem to know what to say without his buddy standing solidly behind him. Jenny made sure he wasn’t going to try anything, then stalked off, still rubbing her fist. She ran into Marcus at the edge of the orchard.
“Are you all right? I saw Logan and Joe follow you.”
“I’m fine, but I can’t say the same for Logan.” Logan and Joe came out of the orchard, and Marcus grabbed Jenny, pulling her away from the two as they walked by, Logan stopping the flow of blood with his shirt. Marcus’s eyes grew wide.
“Did you do that?” he asked.
“Someone had to do it,” Jenny replied. “Come on, I want to make sure they don’t go into the infirmary.”
He shook his head as she began to run, and then followed behind her. Before they could enter the mission, Logan and Joe were stopped by a nun, who examined Logan’s bloody nose in the courtyard while Joe hopped alongside, waving his arms and pointing towards the orchard. Jenny and Marcus ducked into the building and made their way to the infirmary at a East walk, being warned to slow down by another frowning sister.
Sister Mary Frances was in the outer office when they came bursting in, and she rose from her desk at the interruption.
“You have a patient coming.” Jenny was almost out of breath, but she managed to get the words out.
“Is it bad?” she asked, suddenly alarmed at the urgency in Jenny’s face.
-No, I—”
“Go on in and shut the door,” Sister Mary Frances said, understanding the situation when she heard the complaining Logan coming down the hall. Jenny dashed into Jamie’s room with Marcus on her heels and firmly shut the door behind her.
Jamie greeted her with a look of horror when he realized that she was not alone. Marcus didn’t hesitate. He walked over to the bed with his hand outstretched.
“Hi, I’m Marcus,” he said with a friendly smile. Jamie looked at Marcus’s hand, looked up at his friendly face, then looked past him to his sister, who shrugged and gave him an imploring look. Jamie took the outstretched hand and shook it, turning his face away to hide the burn.
“James Duncan,” he said, and immediately began to fumble around, searching for his shirt. Jenny produced it from the back of the chair he had been sitting in earlier and held it up, hooked on the end of her finger, dangling just out of his reach. He leaned forward and jerked it out of her hand, giving her a murderous look as he pulled it on. Jenny gave him a sarcastic smile in return. Marcus decided to give the two of them some room and went over to the closed door, where he stuck his ear to the crack.
“What is going on?” Jamie asked, motioning towards the door with his chin. Marcus stuck his finger up to his lips, signaling Jamie to be quiet. Jamie started using the Indian sign language that Gray Horse had taught them to talk to Jenny. Marcus watched the exchange between the two with his ear still at the door.
“Uh-oh,” he finally whispered, looking towards Jenny. “You’re going to get in trouble.”
“For what?” they both asked.
“Logan is telling the sisters that you went crazy and hit him for no reason.”
“They won’t believe that.”
“Who is this guy?” Jamie asked.
“They’re sending for Father Clarence right now,” Marcus reported. Jamie got out of bed and went over to the door, leaning over Marcus so that he had his ear pressed to the crack above the smaller boy’s. Marcus looked up, and Jamie flashed his grin. The salve that Jenny had rubbed on earlier had softened his skin so that he now could move about without feeling the pulling and tearing that he had experienced earlier. They both listened to the soothing tones of Sister Mary Frances as she ministered to Logan’s nose. They also heard the angry accusations he was making, including several references to the freak hiding behind the door, in a voice loud enough for all to hear. Jamie stalked away from the door, the clear skin of his cheeks flushing red in anger.
“You punched this guy in the nose?” he asked his sister.
“He asked for it,” Jenny declared.
“That’s not all he’s asking for.” Jamie sta
rted pacing around the confines of his room, stopping only long enough to look out the window when his route took him past it. Jenny could hardly contain her joy at seeing him this way. He was ready to whip Logan but good, and he hadn’t even met him yet. If anything would get him on the road to recovery it would be this. Jamie had always hated injustice of any kind; one time he had even fought an older boy at school when he caught him throwing rocks at a bird’s nest. He would get strong again, just to keep this bully from picking on everyone else. Marcus saw the smile on her face and smiled back.
“Father Clarence is here,” he whispered as he leaned back against the door. Jamie and Jenny joined him, each taking a station above or below. They listened as Logan angrily told his story, Joe interjecting his asides into the fabrication.
“Where is the girl now?” they heard Father Clarence ask. The three behind the door all looked at each other when they heard Joe announce that she had still been in the orchard with that punk Marcus when they came in. Sister Mary Frances never said a word as the priest instructed the other nun to find the missing girl immediately and bring her to his office. He then instructed Joe on the sins of name-calling, telling him not to refer to Marcus as a punk. Marcus put his hands over his mouth to cover his laughter as he listened to joe being chastised for his “sin.” The three of them scattered around the room, trying to look casual when they heard footsteps approaching the door.
“Father Clarence would like to have a talk with you,” Sister Mary Frances told Jenny when she had the door closed firmly behind her. “Before he does, I would like to look at your hand.” Jenny held her right hand out to the nun, who examined it closely, instructing her to make a fist, wiggle her fingers and flex her wrist. “I can’t believe you didn’t break anything on that hard head of his,” she finally declared. Marcus began to laugh, and Jamie couldn’t help grinning, his pride in his sister evident. Sister Mary Frances added her own sweet smile to the others and took Jenny’s arm in hers.
“You’d best be off. Waiting will only make it worse.”
“What’s going to happen?”
“Nothing that can compare to what you’ve already been through,” the nun assured her. She laid her hand along Jenny’s cheek. “I’ll say a prayer for you.” Jenny nodded and took off down the hall.
“What will he do to her?” Jamie asked when she had disappeared from view.
“She’s going to get a beating,” Marcus declared and flopped down in die chair.
“Marcus, you don’t know that,” the nun answered.
“Everyone gets a beating, no matter how young or old. ‘It drives the sin out, it helps to make us stronger in our war against the devil and his minions,’“ Marcus quoted.
“Father Clarence will recognize the truth,” Sister Mary Frances said, as much to herself as to the two boys with worried faces. Marcus threw his hands up in disgust as the nun left the room. Jamie went to the door and cautiously peered out into the office. He took a tentative step into the outer room, his hands braced against the door frame.
“You can’t help her,” Marcus said from the chair. “You will only make it worse for her and wind up getting in trouble yourself.” Jamie looked over his shoulder at the younger boy, who sounded wiser than his years. “Besides, you know your sister would get really mad if you showed up,” he added with a smile.
Jamie shook his head in wonder at the boy. “It didn’t take you long to figure her out,” he said, stepping back into the safety of his room. He hadn’t realized how much he had been shaking until he reached the edge of his bed, where his legs suddenly gave out from under him.
“Are you all right?”
“I guess.”
“Do you want me to leave?”
“No, stay, at least until Jenny gets back.” Jamie surprised himself with the words. “It will make the time go quicker.” He eased himself up on the bed and leaned back against the pillows. He suddenly felt weary, and very worried about his sister. As Marcus began to chatter about the mission, Jamie realized that he was the only one around to worry about Jenny, and the responsibility settled on him heavily. His heart began to ache for his mother and father and the peace that he had felt in their presence. They had made every day seem so easy, taking on the burdens of life and sharing them equally, giving Jamie and Jenny freedom from everything but the great joys that each day had to offer.
“What happened to your parents, Marcus?”
“Indians attacked our wagon. My father was going to set up a medical practice in Denver. We had an uncle but he said he didn’t know how to care for my baby sister, so he just left us. That was four years ago. My sister Mary doesn’t remember any of it. She was too little.”
“Do you still think about them?”
“Every day. It’s hardest at night when I’m falling asleep. That’s when I miss them the most. Mary cries sometimes, but she doesn’t really know what she’s crying for.”
“I wish I knew why my parents had to die,” Jamie commented after a while.
“We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Marcus said. He wiped at some tears that had gathered at the comer of his eye.
“With my parents, it was deliberate, I know. I just wish I knew why.”
“Sister Mary Frances said there are some things we’ll never know the answers for. I guess this is one of them.”
“I know, but I’m going to do my best to find out.” Jamie closed his eyes. He really was tired. The ordeal of taking off the bandages had drained the little bit of strength he had built up since his injuries. Marcus settled into the chair, hoping that Jenny would be back soon.
Sister Mary Frances could not believe her eyes when she entered the office of Father Clarence. The priest looked as if he was ready to explode, his face a deep purple, his eyes bulging. He was standing at his desk, his arms planted rigidly on the surface, staring down at Jenny, who was calmly sitting before him.
“You will obey me!” the priest shouted. The girl did not flinch, just looked up at him with deep blue eyes full of rebellion.
“I will not let you touch me,” she said calmly, as if she were speaking to a child that was having trouble understanding a difficult lesson.
“You have broken the rules and you must be punished!” The priest raised his voice again and slammed his fist against the desk top. “I will send for someone to hold you down if I must, but you will be punished!”
Sister Mary Frances loudly cleared her throat in hopes that the priest would notice her presence in the room. The priest turned to her, and she was momentarily taken aback by the venomous look in his eyes. “If I may have a word with you?”
The priest took his glasses off, then removed a white linen handkerchief from the pocket of his frock. He spent a few minutes cleaning and checking his glasses, then wiped his face with the cloth. As the nun approached the desk, Jenny rose from her chair. The nun shifted her eyes towards the door, and Jenny made good her escape before the priest had a chance to protest. His angry voice followed her down the hall as she made her way back to the infirmary.
She found Jamie and Marcus both half asleep in their places. Marcus jumped up when she entered the room, a questioning look on his face. She smiled at him, then took a place on the edge of Jamie’s bed.
“Hey,” she said, gently grabbing the arm of her sleeping brother.
“Hey, are you all right?” he asked sleepily. The bell began to toll, announcing the dinner hour.
“Fine, although Father Clarence is a bit out of sorts.”
“Why is that?”
“He thought I needed a spanking. I disagreed.”
“You what?” Marcus asked incredulously.
“I told him I wasn’t going to let him punish me, that I didn’t deserve to be punished.” Jamie began to laugh. “It didn’t set well with him. If Sister Mary Frances hadn’t shown up, I believe he would have fallen over dead of heart failure.”
Marcus looked at her with a delicious grin on his face. “I think I’m in love,” he c
ommented. Jamie tugged on his sister’s braid, and she elbowed his side.
“We’d better go to supper before we get into any more trouble,” she said as she got up from the bed.
“We?” Marcus asked as he followed her out of the room. “I’m staying far away from you, believe me.” Jamie laughed as he heard their voices trailing off down the hall.
Jenny and Marcus took their seats at their respective tables and joined the rest of the children in the wait for Father Clarence to appear and bless the meal that was laid before them. Logan was sitting at his place, his nose swollen and his eyes ringed with black and blue circles. Joe was quiet for once. Apparently, Logan was not in the mood for Joe’s snickering commentary. Marcus gave the two bullies a self satisfied grin and looked over at Jenny with a wink. Jenny just stared the two down, then turned her attention to Mary, who was seated across from her. The little girl seemed thrilled at the attention that Jenny gave her, and Jenny decided that she would take it upon herself to look out for her. The priest finally appeared, and quickly blessed the meal, but he still looked agitated.
Jenny knew she had not escaped when they gathered for chapel that evening. Father Clarence promptly began speaking on the wages of sin, and how sinners will be punished some day. He even quoted the scripture on vengeance, shaking his fist at the heavens. Marcus rolled his eyes at this, but Logan and Joe seemed to enjoy the passage, Logan staring down his swollen nose at Jenny as the priest expounded on the verse. Jenny let her mind drift back to the services she had attended with her family at the little white church in Council Bluffs and the loving fellowship that had existed among the congregation. She watched Mary, who was seated in front of her, struggle to stay awake as the priest went on past the nine o’clock hour when they were supposed to be dismissed to get ready for bed. Soon many of the smaller children were asleep, their heads tilted back, mouths open. Even Joe was snoring, the other boys giggling at the sounds he was making. The priest kept looking right at Jenny as he went on with his sermon, and she knew that he was making her the target of the other children, who anxiously wanted to leave and seek their beds. He finally closed the service, having exhausted his voice and the ears of the nuns, who had not dared even to move in the presence of his anger. The children shuffled sleepily from their pews, grumpy with each other and the nuns.
Chase the Wind Page 17
