Anna's Blizzard

by Alison Hart

  “But where?” Miss Simmons seemed on the verge of tears. “The blizzard is still raging.”

  Anna fought back her own panic. “I don’t know. But we can’t stay here.”

  Miss Simmons nodded and got up. “Come, girls,” she said, “let’s get your boots.”

  Anna stood. She turned in a circle, hopelessness spinning around her like the wind. Earlier, the school had been the safest place. But with no door or roof, it was safe no longer. If they stayed there they would freeze.

  But where would they go? And how would they get there?

  Even with the light from the stove, Anna could barely see in front of her. How would they find their way through the storm?

  Top Hat nudged Anna’s shoulder with his nose. Anna brushed the snow off the pony’s head. “I know, Top,” she whispered. “I want to go home, too.” She stared into his brown eyes.

  Top Hat!

  Top would lead them! Didn’t he always find the sheep in the dark of early morning? Didn’t he sense the trail home after a long night?

  The Friesens’ farm was not even a mile from the schoolhouse. Top had taken Anna there more times than she could count. Anna was sure he could lead them now.

  “Miss Simmons!” Anna stepped across William’s legs and hurried to the teacher, who was bent over lacing Sally Lil’s boots.

  “We can get to the Friesens’,” Anna said. “It’s less than a mile. Top knows the way. He’ll lead us there.”

  “Top? Yes, Top!” Sally Lil cried.

  Ida frowned. She was clutching Hattie and Ruth’s hands. “Should we leave the stove?” she asked. “It’s our only light. Our only way to keep warm.”

  “We can’t leave,” Eloise wailed. “My pa won’t know where to find me.”

  John Jacob spoke up. “Listen everyone. We have to leave. The snow’s falling too hard for the stove to keep up. And the wind is blowing so hard, the stovepipe might collapse and maybe even the walls.”

  Carolina began to cry again.

  “John Jacob’s right. Everyone put on your scarves and mittens,” Ida said. “Stuff rags and newspaper up your coats.”

  Anna made her way to the corner, Top right beside her. Stooping, she felt around for the rope and her pony’s bridle. When she found them, she held the metal bit beneath her arm to warm it.

  Miss Simmons came up and wrapped her shawl around Anna’s shoulders.

  “I’m fine,” Anna said, although chills racked her.

  “You lent Sally Lil your coat. Now I’ll lend you mine,” Miss Simmons said. She knotted the shawl at Anna’s throat. “I’ve my cloak to wear.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.” Anna busied herself with bridling Top. Despite her stiff, fumbling fingers, he took the bit. She slipped the headpiece over his ears.

  When Top’s bridle was in place, Anna handed the coil of rope to Miss Simmons. “Lash as many children together as you can,” she told her. “That way, no one will get lost.” Then Anna joined Karl, Ida, and John Jacob, who were using lunch pails and slates to scoop away the snow from the doorway.

  Miss Simmons tied Eloise to Hattie, Hattie to Ruth, and Ruth to William. Then she tied William to George and George to Karl before the rope ran out. By that time, Anna and the others had cleared a narrow path through the snowdrift.

  “The two little girls can ride Top,” Anna said. She boosted Sally Lil onto the pony.

  Carolina whimpered. “No time for tears,” John Jacob declared, tossing her up behind Sally Lil.

  Miss Simmons gave the end of the rope to Ida, who looped it around her arm.

  “Hold on to Top’s tail, Ida,” Anna said. “And don’t let go.”

  “I’ll go last,” Miss Simmons said, “to watch out for stragglers.”

  John Jacob shook his head. “No, ma’am. I’ll bring up the rear. That’s a gentleman’s job.”

  “No, John Jacob,” she protested. “I can’t let you go last. It’s a teacher’s duty.”

  He nodded firmly. “No Ma’am. You keep hold of the littler ones.”

  “Everybody ready?” Anna asked. There was a chorus of muffled replies. “I’m going to take a look outside first.”

  Anna pulled her cap over her ears and stepped onto the stoop. The wind struck her like a hammer. It threw her against the doorjamb like she was nothing but a stick. Behind her, the two little girls on Top shrieked.

  Anna sucked in a frosty breath. Stunned, she stared into the night. All she could see was a swirling mass of windblown snow. The walls of the school had protected them from the wind, Anna realized. Here, outside, it rushed across the plains like a furious beast.

  Her heart sank. There was no way they’d make it to the Friesens’ farm. The icy blasts would sweep them to the open prairie where they’d freeze to death. Or it would drive them toward the river where they could fall through the ice and drown.

  Turning, she hollered back to Ida, “It’s no use! We’d never make it!”

  Ida nodded in agreement. She and Miss Simmons helped Sally Lil and Carolina off Top and herded everybody back to the stove.

  “What do we do now?” Ida asked.

  Suddenly a shrill, grinding noise made Anna look up. She felt someone shove her and she stumbled backward. The top of the stovepipe crashed where she’d been standing.

  “Are you all right?” asked John Jacob. “I’m sorry I had to push you so hard.”

  “I-I think so,” Anna gasped. Smoke, pushed low by the wind, whipped around her head.

  “The stovepipe’s split in two. We have to leave,” John Jacob shouted in Anna’s ear. “Before the smoke gets too thick!”

  “But out there is hopeless.” Anna heard the whine in her voice. Oh no, she thought, I sound just like Eloise!

  “Then we must think of something, Anna.” John Jacob leaned closer. A smile creased his cold-reddened cheeks. “Ain’t you the one who’s always up for an adventure?”

  She heard the challenge and gave him a shaky grin. “I guess we’ll just have to figure out a way to outfox the storm. Think hard, John Jacob. How can we keep it from blowing us all to kingdom come?”

  “We have to make sure we start out in the right direction. And stay on course … at least until we get to our shed,” John Jacob said.

  A thought struck Anna. The barbed wire fence!

  She gripped his arm. “The fence! It runs along the lane to your shed. We can use it to guide our way to your farm.”

  “Yes. Yes!” John Jacob punched his fist in his gloved palm.

  Excitement filled Anna, warming her toes and fingers. “Tell the others. Top and I are going out to find the fence.”

  “No. Not alone.”

  Anna pulled the shawl tighter around her shoulders and rushed toward the door before he could stop her. Snatching up the dangling rein, she led Top onto the stoop. She brushed the snow off his forelock and whispered in his bent ear, “I’m counting on you, Top.”

  Grabbing mane, Anna vaulted onto her pony’s back. Then she dug her heels in his sides and together they plunged into the blinding snow.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Enees reaching high, Top plowed through the drifts. The snow brushed his belly and lapped the toes of Anna’s boots. She clung to his mane, unable to see past the pony’s ears. She had to guess the direction of the fence.

  Suddenly Top halted, almost tossing Anna over his head. She righted herself and thrust out her hand. Her glove snagged on something sharp. It was the barbed wire fence!

  Anna whooped. She steered Top back toward the school. The pony lunged down the trail they’d made, up onto the stoop, and through the doorway.

  “We found it. We found it!” Anna shouted as she slid off Top. Everybody crowded around. “We found the fence. It can lead us to the Friesens’!”

  She lifted Sally Lil onto Top, and John Jacob put Carolina on behind. Carolina wrapped her arms around Sally Lil’s skinny waist. Her lower lip trembled. She coughed when the thick smoke blew in her face.

  “I’ll make sure Carolina doesn�
�t fall off,” Sally Lil said, trying to sound brave.

  Loud thuds made Anna spin sideways. The front wall of the schoolhouse, buffeted by the wind, was sagging inward. Sod blocks were dropping to the floor like sacks of wet flour.

  “Go! Go!” John Jacob yelled.

  Clucking to Top, Anna guided him off the stoop. The thigh-deep snow dragged at her skirts, and she floundered along beside the pony. She glanced over her shoulder. Sally Lil and Carolina were one lump on Top’s back. She couldn’t see past the pony’s rump. She prayed that the others were right behind.

  When Anna reached the end of the beaten-down path, she searched for the barbed wire. This time her coat sleeve caught in the barbs.

  “Ida!” she screamed into the raging wind. “We’re at the fence line. Do you have hold of Top’s tail?”

  “Yes!” came her faint reply.

  “Are the others still behind you?”

  “Yes!”

  “Then we’ll move on!” Anna turned to the left. With her right hand, she felt for the fence. She couldn’t keep her hand on it; the barbs were too sharp. She’d just have to keep checking to make sure they didn’t wander too far from the fence and get lost.

  Anna urged the pony forward. Head tucked, she battled her way through the fresh snow. One hand gripped Top’s rein; the other gripped his neck.

  One, two, three, four, five, Anna counted her strides. On the fifth step, she reached for the fence. Her hand hit a wooden post, its top hidden by the drifted snow. She didn’t dare wait past five. One wrong step could lead them astray.

  One, two, three, four, five. Counting helped keep Anna’s mind from growing as numb as her feet. Snow clung to her stockings and skirt and made them heavy. Her gloves and boots were frozen stiff. Her cheeks and ears had lost all feeling.

  Beside her, Top strode steadily. His nostrils flared pink, and icicles hung from his muzzle hairs. When Anna stumbled and fell in a drift, he waited patiently until she pulled herself up.

  One, two, three, four, five. Anna reached out for the fence again, but felt nothing. She swatted in all directions. Where is it? Then her elbow whacked the top strand, and tears of relief welled in her eyes. Quickly, she checked on Sally Lil and Carolina, who were as white as snowmen.

  “Are you all right?” she shouted.

  Sally Lil nodded.

  Taking a deep breath, Anna set off again, breaking through an icy crust. Her knees and legs ached and each stride grew harder.

  One, two, three … Her counting slowed. Four … five … Anna stopped to catch her breath. Snow slithered down her neck. She could no longer feel her feet.

  How much farther? Straightening, she stared in front of her. She had no idea how far they’d walked or how far they had to go. All landmarks, all distance, had been erased by the whitewash of snow.

  Pea soup. That’s what Mama called fog. Oh, this was much worse!

  “Ida!” Anna cried, flakes whirling into her mouth.

  “We’re okay!” Ida screamed back.

  I’m not, Anna thought. Her chest heaved. She tried to take a step, but her boots felt nailed to the ground.

  I’m so cold. So tired. She closed her eyes just for a minute and leaned against Top’s neck. She listened to the soft shush, shush of the falling snow. It sounded like Mama humming a lullaby.

  Anna’s mind drifted; her body swayed. Suddenly, someone pushed her roughly. Anna toppled into the snow. It closed around her, choking her. She clawed free. Top stood over her like a snowy beast.

  “What are you doing?” Anna yelled angrily. He pawed the snow at her feet. Then he lowered his head to push her again, and she hit him on the nose. Grabbing the cheek strap of the bridle, she pulled herself up.

  “Stop it, Top. Stop it!” she screamed. Then she gasped, realizing what Top had done. He’d saved her life.

  Anna had heard tales of folks falling asleep in the snow. Falling asleep and never waking.

  She hugged him. “Oh, Top. You know we can’t stop. You know we have to keep going no matter what.”

  Spring, summer, and fall, Anna and Top guarded the flock. In all their years together, they’d never lost one sheep. Top was making sure they wouldn’t lose one now.

  Anna stomped her feet, flapped her arms, and slapped her cheeks. I might not be smart or brave, she thought. But I know what needs to be done.

  Anna clucked to Top. “One … two … three … four … five …” she counted aloud, ignoring the snow beating against her. They had to keep moving a little longer, then they could rest. She put her head down against the wind and forced her numb feet to take five more steps. Then five more.

  “One … two … three—” Anna’s shoulder bumped a wooden post. Immediately past the post, she ran into a hard, solid corner. It was the shed!

  “Hurry, Top.” She inched her way along the rough wooden wall. The three-sided shed was used for storing wood and cow chips. Where was the open side? Finally Anna realized that the opening was drifted shut. Holding on to Top, she plowed through the snow back to Ida. The older girl was hunched over like an old woman. Snow completely covered her clothes. All Anna could see was her eyes.

  “I found the shed.” She leaned into the wind toward Ida. “How far is it to the house?”

  “About a hundred steps. Straight ahead and to the right.”

  “You’ll have to lead the way, Ida. The fence stops. There’s nothing to guide me.”

  Ida shook her head. “I c-c-can’t, Anna.” Her teeth chattered. “My skirts are f-frozen stiff. I c-c-can’t move my legs! Top’s been dragging me.”

  “Oh, Ida.” Anna moaned. Behind Ida, she could barely make out a dim shape. That had to be Karl. The rest were invisible.

  “John Jacob!” Anna hollered. There was no answer.

  Panic filled her. What if the others had come untied?

  “Anna,” Ida whispered feebly. “We must k-k-keep moving. Or none of us will make it.”

  “Yes, all right.” Anna nodded. “I’ll find the way.”

  I’ll find the way. Brave words. But this time, there would be no fence to guide her.

  She’d have to rely on Top.

  The pony stood quietly, his head bowed, the two girls slumped over on his back. Snow had crusted over his nostrils and eyes. “Oh, Top.” Anna gently brushed off his face. She laid her cheek against his. “Don’t you give up!”

  The pony shook and icicles tinkled in the air. Anna tried to make a clucking noise, but her lips were too stiff. “C-come, Top. You’ve got to find the Friesens’.” She tugged on the reins and side by side they trudged forward.

  Anna prayed they were headed in the right direction.

  She began counting to a hundred. A hundred steps and they should reach the Friesens’ house.

  As she walked, the wind pummeled her to and fro. She held tightly to Top’s mane. The cold bit through her clothes. The snow clung like weights on her legs.

  Top kept walking. Anna stumbled beside him.

  One hundred. She stopped counting. She rubbed the snow from her face with a crusty glove. She stared right. Left. Straight ahead.

  There was nothing.

  She’d led them to nothing.

  They were lost on the prairie in the middle of a blizzard. And it was her fault.

  Anna sunk down in the snow. She raised her head to the sky and wailed like a lone coyote. “No-no-no.”

  “Ann-na!”

  A cry came from far away. Anna held her breath. Was she hearing things?

  “Ann-na!”

  No, someone was calling her name!

  Anna stood up clumsily. “Here! Over here!”

  Top pricked his ears. Raising his head, he whinnied.

  “Anna! Don’t move!”

  Papa? Could it be?

  “We’ll come to you, Anna!”

  It is Papa!

  Anna wanted to run screaming toward her father’s voice. Only where was his voice coming from? She swung right, then left. With trembling fingers she pushed her stiff cap from her
ears. Howling from all sides deafened her. Oh, the wind was playing tricks!

  Then she saw it. A golden glow moving toward her. A lantern!

  “Papa! Straight ahead!” Anna shouted.

  Turning, she shook Sally Lil’s and Carolina’s legs. “Help’s coming! It’s coming!” There was no sound from the girls.

  A sob caught in her throat. Don’t let it be too late!

  “Anna!” The light dazzled her. “Oh, my child!” Arms closed around her, and Anna fell weeping against her father’s snowy chest.

  “Papa, the roof blew off the school. We had to come.”

  “Mister Friesen’s with me. He’s pulling a sled.”

  Ida and John Jacobs’s father came up, the sled gliding behind him. Anna wanted to stay forever in the safety of her father’s arms. But she pulled away and said tearfully, “When we left, everyone was tied together behind Top. But I couldn’t see them. I couldn’t see them, Papa.” She broke down, her sobs shaking her shoulders. “Oh, I hope they’re all right.”

  Papa squeezed her shoulder. “Stay by Top,” he instructed as he handed her his lantern. Anna swayed against the pony. Through blurry eyes, she watched as her father and Mister Friesen disappeared in the icy whirl.

  For what seemed like forever, she waited, shivering with the cold, with sorrow. Oh, what if her friends had not made it!

  Then Mister Friesen reappeared, pulling Ruth, Eloise, and Hattie on the sled. Papa was right behind. George was in his arms. William clung to his back.

  Anna cried out, this time with joy.

  “Bring Top and the lantern and walk right behind me,” Papa shouted as he strode past. “The others will follow. It’s not far.”

  Moments later, Anna spotted a rectangle of light shining like a star through the fog of snow. Mrs. Friesen stood, a dark silhouette, in the open doorway of the soddy. She began to cry when she spotted the children.

  The snow had been packed down in front of the house. Anna halted Top under a protective roof. The pony’s sides heaved. She hobbled around behind him, her feet like stumps and her toes crackling like twigs. Ida, Miss Simmons, and John Jacob appeared through the snow.