He only wished he could feel some of that pain. Anna had been his wife after all. But the only sadness he felt was in knowing where she would be spending eternity. The same as he felt for anyone who had rejected God’s precious gift. Grief over a lost soul, no more, no less. Mostly what he felt was gratitude, for which he continued to ask forgiveness several times a day.
As he neared Main Street, he was astounded at the size of the crowd. Perhaps he’d gotten used to the empty streets during the worst of the epidemic because the crowd seemed overwhelming. There had been days when he feared he was the only living being on the earth, so quiet and deserted was the town.
Not so today. It appeared as though anyone who could walk or hobble lined both sides of the two blocks. People talking and smiling, hoping that others wouldn’t notice that their cheerfulness was forced, or that their eyes reflected the same misery they saw in eyes of everyone around them.
He stopped for a moment, fairly near the street but behind a small group of children. They were short enough that it allowed him to see who was standing across from him.
Daniel and Nina Pullman, holding hands and looking radiantly happy over in front of the druggists. And why shouldn’t they be? He’d heard the story of Nina’s ’death’ and found that he agreed with the young couple. He, too, believed she’d seen the glory of God and that He, in His mercy, had given her back to her husband.
A little to the north, in the next block up, he saw Marcus kneeling between Rachael and Rebecca, who were each chattering and gesturing toward the corner where the parade would begin. Marcus looked a bit overwhelmed but he was, for the first time in all the years Colby had known him, smiling the only genuine smile he’d ever seen. So big and so contagious that he found himself grinning, too.
He’d been a bit nervous upon leaving Marcus that first morning, but it was obvious he was keeping his word to his friend. The girls were clean and looked happy, even if their braids were slightly crooked and off center. Even more obvious was the fact that they were very, very good for his friend. He’d have to stop in soon, just to reassure himself that all was finally well in Marcus’ world.
Smiling again, he continued down the street. When he reached the corner of Main and Lawrence, he looked down the line of people again, his eyes coming to rest on Elliot Owens and his children. What was left of them anyway. Their family, more than any other in town, had suffered the greatest loss. Exactly half of them gone now.
Elliot had brought Richard, Kathleen and little Sara to church the past two Sundays and his heart had broken each time. They had once taken up most of one pew because there had been so many of them. But not anymore. Colby missed Jonathon’s fidgeting throughout the service. Missed the tales of his spying and other adventures. Missed them all so terribly he felt tears come to his eyes.
They spilled over and ran down his cheeks when, as the small marching band rounded the corner, Elliot lifted Kathleen to his hip so she could see everything. He’d never known a better, more loving father than Elliot Owens. Regardless of his overwhelming loss he was still that, and so much more to the ones who survived.
His eyes moved to Richard, who was holding the baby close. The poor boy looked so lost that Colby longed to comfort him. So much like his father, he’d guarded the brood like a mother hen. With only two sisters to watch out for now, he seemed to be at a loss, not sure what to do anymore.
Time. It would take more time for them than for the others but they, too, would find their way again. And he’d be there to help them in whatever he could. Someday they would discover that life still held joy for them. Perhaps not to the same degree as before, but still there nonetheless.
“Oh, Reverend Thornton! There you are!” Betsy Montgomery said, grasping his arm, her smile wide with enthusiasm. “I was hoping to find you here. I baked you a pie and wondered if it would be all right to drop it off this afternoon.”
And maybe, just possibly, he might find some joy of his own.
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Thanks so much for reading Enza! If you enjoyed the story, I’d truly appreciate it if you’d post a short review on the site where you purchased it. Your opinion really does matter to me, and I do read all of my reviews. They help me to make this and future books better.
If you want to know what’s next on my to-be-written list, or just want to join in some fun conversations, head on over to Facebook and like my author page, or sign up for my newsletter so you can be among the first to read installments of my Newsletter Novellas – the first drafts of novellas I’ll eventually publish, but want to share with readers who want to know a little bit about the writing process. While you’re at my website, you can browse my blog which covers topics from my cursed septic tank, to hair-knitting fairies, to movie reviews, to just about anything else that comes to my mind.
Thanks again!
Kristy
Estimates of the actual death toll from the 1918 influenza pandemic range between 40 and 100 million people, worldwide. Conservative estimates for the United States alone are 550,000. That’s more than the total number of American soldiers who died in all of the wars during the twentieth century.
I don’t remember ever reading about this in any school history class. In fact, I don’t remember hearing about this at all until I happened to catch a documentary on PBS. But if Enza has piqued your interest about this tragic event, I encourage you to read the transcript, Influenza 1918, at PBS.org.
Kristy K. James’s first goal in life was to work in law enforcement, until the night she called the police to check out a scary noise in her yard. Realizing that she might someday have to check out scary noises in other dark yards if she continued on that path, she turned to her other favorite love… writing. Since then, her days have been filled with being a mom and reluctant zookeeper, creating stories and looking for trouble in her kitchen.
Visit Kristy’s website at: http://kristykjames.net/ or drop her an email at: mailto:[email protected].
Other works by this author include The Coach’s Boys series: The Daddy Pact, A Hero For Holly, A Harry Situation, Her Best Friend Jon, Code Red Christmas, a Coach’s Boys companion story, Holding Out For Love, as well as Laying Low in Paradise, Reluctant Guardian, Erin’s Christmas Wish, Brody’s Banshee, Holding On To Yesterday, and A Fine Mess.
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