Gather The Children (Chronicles of the Maca Book 2)

by Mari Collier

  He turned his agonized face towards his mother, sure that she would be screaming at him again, but her face wasn't twisted in anger, puzzlement was in her eyes, and a slight frown pulled at her mouth and forehead. He swallowed and tried to think of something more to say, but no more words would come. His fight with Daniel, the screams of his mother replayed in his mind, and anguish tore at his insides. He turned and ran out of the building, bumping against the young woman and knocking her aside in his rush.

  Outside he pulled in a lungful of fresh air unsullied by soap and humans and swung over the porch railing to land in front of MacDonald. He looked up, still trying to pull more air into his chest that was now too constricted to breathe either in or out.

  Something in his eyes or face must have registered with the big man as he took Lorenz's arm and led him between the general store and the stable. “I think we shall go for a short stroll. There tis a graveyard across the street and up a bit. Ye twill find it a quiet spot.”

  By the time they reached the graveyard, Lorenz was still panting, but air was going in and out in a normal sequence. He was grateful to be away from everyone's prying eyes. How had MacDonald known, and why had he made such an ass of himself?

  “There tis the grave of yere cousin, Wilhelm. He was but a couple of years younger than ye. The typhoid fever twas here in fifty-eight and took him; him and Mrs. Rolfe. The typhoid had started in the East the year before. If ye noticed the sadness in yere El-Uncle's eyes, or the sourness of yere Tante Gre'Gerde's, there lies the answer. For some reason the good Gar took him and left ye alive. Mayhap there tis a reason, mayhap there tis nay.”

  Lorenz began to settle down and he looked around as his breathing returned to normal. It was not a large graveyard, but there were a few more graves. “Someday yere mither and Uncle wish to have a Church built just to the left of here, across from the store.” MacDonald's voice was soothing, talking of everyday things. He led him to the end of the graveyard and leaned his arms on the top rail of the fence. “And now, would ye like to tell me what prompted all the excitement?”

  Lorenz stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth. “Ah called her Tante Dirty, just like ah used to. And then ah had to bring up that damned fight 'tween me and Daniel, and Mama being so mad she didn't even want me in the house.” He clenched his jaw waiting the tongue lashing or the fist. Instead when he looked at MacDonald, the great shoulders were shaking and the man's lips were pursed as though holding back the laughter. “It ain't funny!” he protested.

  “Oh, aye, laddie, tis very funny. Did ye nay notice how sanitized her kitchen tis with nay a thing out of place?” His words had no meaning to Lorenz except to illustrate how out of place he was here with these people.

  “But Mama was getting upset, and it was that damn candy, and then I almost knocked Martin's sister over when I went out the door, and she's going to be mad too.”

  MacDonald straightened and looked at him, the amusement still gleaming in his eyes and the shoulders were still shaking, the silent laughter causing him to smile. “I am trying nay to laugh out loud for if yere mither hears me, I shall be in far more trouble than ye.” He gave a nod towards the road where his mother was walking towards them in long, swift strides, the grey skirt swinging out and away from her legs in her hurry. Lorenz let out his breath and knew that his time here was over. He would no longer have to plot to run. So why would being made to leave make him sad? He hadn't cried in years. Not since he was four or five that he could remember.

  Anna practically ran through the fence opening to where they were standing. Her grey eyes were puzzled at she looked at them both. “Vhat ist? Vhy did du run out of there, Lorenz?” She took his hands in hers and made him look at her.

  Lorenz was struck mute. Where was the anger? Why was she acting like she couldn't remember? There was no anger in her eyes or face. There was only love and concern.

  MacDonald answered for him. “It seems GreaGerde's candy has brought back his memory of a time when ye angered and made him leave the house.”

  It was Anna's turn to look perplexed. Then she remembered and her eyes closed for a moment and she took a deep breath. “Ach, ja, that day, that horrible, horrible day.” She opened her eyes and turned to Lorenz. “I didn't vant just du out of the house. I vanted us all out of the house. I sensed there vas horrible danger, but your father had gone out and taken all the guns with him. It was so hot, and Auggie was teething and fussy. I gave the rest of du the last of GreGerde's candy to keep du quiet vhile I tried to pack up vhat I vould need for the baby. Time vas so short, and then Daniel took the candy away from du, and du two fighting vere. Ach, I lost my temper and stopped the fighting. I somehow knew time was short. I sent du with Margareatha and sent Daniel out to the field vhere his father was supposed to be. I thought he vould at least protect his child. I should have known better. By the time I finished putting the diapers in a knapsack, I had to change Auggie. Then I heard the Indians ride up, and I knew I vould have to fight for mein baby.” Anna stopped. “Lorenz, I sent du out of the house to save du and Margareatha, not because I didn't vant du. I love du. Du are mein sohn!” Her voice and eyes filled with intensity and her face became as set as Lorenz could set his.

  Lorenz was staring at her, his mouth open as though trying to say something to refute her, but no words emerged. Her eyes were boring into him, willing him to believe her. To relieve the tension, his mother suddenly put her arms around him. Her voice was now almost a sob, “Mein Gott, du cannot believe I don't vant du.”

  Just as suddenly his arms were around her and the wail he had been holding inside burst out. “Mama, I cried for y'all.”

  Anna looked her middle son, “Und I cried for all of du.” She put her hands up on his shoulders. “Du vere a little boy then. I may have frightened du, but I vas afraid that day, but now Gott has brought du home.”

  Lorenz's face softened. Was it true, was he really home? He suddenly remembered the big man standing patiently at the fence and looked at him. MacDonald still looked relaxed leaning against the fence, but his eyes had narrowed as he seemed to judge the scene playing out in front of him. “I reckon your man's got his own ideas about me being home and stayin'.” He looked back at his mother. The idea that MacDonald would let a kid like him stay was beyond his scope, and then there was that fake murder charge against him. Why start to believe you were home when it was going to be pulled apart again?

  MacDonald straightened. “That twill nay work, laddie. I have already told ye that ye are welcome in my House. Why nay admit ye twere but a wee one when all the other happened, thank Gar that ye are home, and then start behaving like it?”

  Lorenz gave the big man his full attention. “What about that poster? What if the Marshall comes after me? Y'all just going let me go with him.”

  “We twill cross that bridge when it happens. If need be, I'll attend ye, but if yere Red O'Neal tis an honest man, he twill set the record straight.” MacDonald smiled down at him. “Do ye have any more arguments?”

  “No, sir.” He took a deep breath. “How do I go back in there after makin' a fool of myself?”

  MacDonald grinned, “That tis easy, but first tell yere mither that there twill be no more talk of running. She needs to hear the words.”

  Lorenz took a half-way deep breath and looked at his mother. “Ah, ah reckon ah'll stay. Your cookin's awfully good.” For the first time since he was home, he smiled at her.

  Anna laid her hand on her son's face. “Danke, Lorenz.”

  “Now, for the words ye twill be saying,” said MacDonald. “First of all ye twill call GreGerde, Tante GreGerdefrom now on, and ye twill tell her the smell and sight of her candy just overwhelmed your senses.”

  “How will that help?” Lorenz was dubious.

  “A compliment to anyone twill work wonders,” MacDonald assured him. “Tis why ye twill tell Olga, Miss Rolfe, that ye were too upset and did nay see such a pretty, young lassie in yere rush to leave.”

  �
�Ah don't think she'll believe me if I say lassie.”

  MacDonald cocked his head and pushed up at his hat. “Ye twill stop yere objections and use yere own words. Ye ken well what I mean.”

  This time Lorenz grinned at the big man. “Yes, sir.”

  They were walking the length of the graveyard and out into the dusty street. Men's voices raised and lowered as they neared the store and saloon. From the smithy came the sound of pounding. “It seems that the equipment must have been neglected during the months of the war,” said MacDonald. “Tom has some nay expected work. He, too, should be able to pay on his bill at Kasper's. Tis a good day for all.”

  Kasper greeted them as they came in the door. “Ach, good. Now we can start the service. We're holding it in the living room.”

  “First the laddie has a few words to say to GreGerde and Olga,” said MacDonald as he removed his hat and looked at Lorenz to make sure that Lorenz removed his hat also.

  His aunt was standing by the living room door and Lorenz approached her. His tongue felt twice as thick as normal, but somehow he stammered out the words. “Tante GreGerde, ah'm sorry ah called y'all Tante, uh I mean that other name, but, well, ah smelled the candy and ah remembered. We always fought over yore candy 'cause it was so good.”

  GreGerde straightened and a pleased smile came onto her face. “You remembered? But you vere, were so little.” For the first time, she looked glad to see him. She reached up and patted his cheek. “After prayers, you will have to tell me if it's as good as ever.”

  She turned to the rest. “Come, come. All is ready.”

  Lorenz stepped back and as Olga approached he took another deep breath. Before he could say a word, MacDonald was speaking. “Olga, ye have nay yet been introduced. May I present Lorenz, Mrs. MacDonald's laddie. Lorenz, this tis Miss Olga Rolfe.”

  Olga was a short, stocky woman with sun-streaked, light brown hair parted in the middle and drawn severely back into a bun. It was a style she would keep for sixty years as her hair thinned and grayed and the grave closed over her. The light brown eyes were small, set on either side of a short, straight nose, and her lips a surprisingly deep, raspberry color. She was dressed in a plain, gray dress swirling down past her shoe tops. Right now, she was regarding Lorenz as though he was some strange interloper and of small consequence in her world.

  Lorenz stumbled out his words. “Miz Rolfe, ah'm sorry ah bumped into y'all. But uh, ah, uh, well, ah wuz kinda in a hurry.” He stammered to a halt and then added, “Ah mean, ah wouldn't run into such a pretty woman if ah'd watched what ah wuz doin'.”

  Color rose in both of Olga's tanned cheeks. She decided to smile at Lorenz to forgive his gawkiness and then extended her hand. “It's nice to meet you.” She stepped past them into the living room, and Lorenz pursed his lips, gently blew out his breath, and looked at MacDonald.

  MacDonald smiled at him and actually winked. He then picked up Mina and nodded for Lorenz to precede him into the room where everyone was seated except Uncle Kasper.

  Martin stood up and motioned to the straight chair next to him. He smiled and extended his hand. “Mr. Lawrence,” he said.

  Lorenz shook his hand, but couldn't figure out why Martin was acting like they just met. Was this something people like them did? And why was he calling him Mr. Lawrence? Everyone was seated once Mama settled Mina on her lap between the other two women on the sofa. The men were all sitting on straight chairs, and he wondered if MacDonald's would break under the strain. And where was the room in here for someone as big as him or anyone else should the spirit come on them like he'd seen at that camp meeting? There were lamps and some kind of fancy doodads sitting on the little tables. They didn't look like they would withstand anyone crashing against them.

  Uncle Kasper cleared his throat. “Now that we have all gathered here, we're ready to begin. Since I am not ordained, our service will be brief,” he explained to Lorenz. “We conduct our services in German. I understand that you have forgotten your birth language, but Anna assures me that you are beginning to understand some of the words again. It's difficult for us to change anything as it is the way we've learned the word of God and the liturgy. Our bible is Doctor Luther's translation of the oldest texts into Deutsch, much better than the English King James, and, of course, we learned the songs in German also. I'll explain everything I'm doing in English.”

  Kasper now addressed his congregation. “Today we are celebrating the return of my nephew and thanking God for answering our prayers.” His words became unintelligible as he switched to German, and then Lorenz began to pick them out. Since everyone had their hands folded, Lorenz assumed they were praying. After what seemed the longest ten minutes of his short life, Kasper ended with the words, “und der Heiligen Geist.”

  Lorenz could understand the part about the name of the Father and the Son, but who or what was the Holy Ghost, and were they worshipping three Gods? He looked sideways at Martin. Martin was no help as his head was still bent and his hands clasped.

  “Now we will sing the first song, Shepherd of Tender Youth. It reinforces how our loving Savior cares for us all, children and adults, like a good shepherd,” said Uncle Kasper. Then to clarify things for Lorenz, he continued with his quick lesson. “It's one of the oldest known Christian songs, and it was written by Clement of Alexandria sometime around two hundred AD, about one thousand six hundred years ago.” He pulled out a pitch pipe and blew a note. Everyone seemed to “hmm” and they launched into song.

  Lorenz wasn't sure what he was listening to. This wasn't anything like that camp meeting he witnessed, but as the singing flowed in unison, he became enthralled. His mother's and Uncle's voices were soaring together and then dipping to the lowest notes: her voice a lovely, full soprano and Uncle's a matching lyric tenor. Tante's voice was a thinner soprano, while Olga was singing alto. Lorenz couldn't have named what range they were singing, he simply heard and labeled their voices as high, higher, low, lower in his mind. Young James was singing the high notes, while the elder and middle Rolfes added their baritones. MacDonald was singing, but it was more of a bass booming on a continuous note. Mina didn't know the words, but she added her voice by following the sounds in an “ah” that swooped along with the highest notes.

  When the song ended, Uncle Kasper opened the bible in his hand. “Today's text is from Matthew 18:10-14 and Luke 15:4-7. Both of them are quoting our Lord Jesus when he explains how he cares for the lost sheep,” and he began reading in German.

  By this time, Lorenz was blinking his eyes. Why did Kasper keep referring to sheep when MacDonald and Rolfe were cattlemen? Before that, they had been hunters. Why would they care about sheep? He stole a glance at the two. Both seem to be listening as intently as the women. Contrary to what he had seen at the camp meeting, the children were sitting quietly. Martin had his hands on his knees leaning forward. He looked like he was afraid he was going to miss a word during the reading.

  Kasper finished the reading and closed the book. “Now we will sing the second song written by our own Dr. Martin Luther. It is Erhalt uns, Herr, bei deinenwort. Loosely translated it means, Lord keep us steadfast in your word.” Once again he used the pipe, everyone dutifully “hummed,” and the voices blended again.

  For the first time since he was four-years-old, Lorenz was hearing a melody in the minor key. It was both alien and familiar. He was somehow sitting on a large wooden bench with Mama and wedged in between Rity and Daniel while around him the voices swelled and fell. He could almost smell the closeness of the congregation in steamy woolens and the heavy smell of trees and grasses growing in rich soil. Just as rapidly the vision faded and he was on the straight back chair listening to nine other people singing joyously the mournful tune.

  When they finished, Kasper said, “Please rise for saying the Apostle's Creed and the Lord's prayer.” As one, the small congregation rose and began to recite in unison. Martin nudged Lorenz as he stood and Lorenz rose too. He figured if he remained sitting his mother would be
more upset than MacDonald. He wasn't sure what a creed was, but he knew prayer was asking God for something and they all had their hands folded and their heads bowed like they were praying. He hoped God understood German better than he did.

  As they lifted their heads, Kasper spoke again. “Now we will sing the last song, “Wohl einem Haus, da Jesu Christ.” He smiled at Lorenz. “We are asking God's blessing on this house, and of course, all other Christian houses.” The pipe blew and once more the group sang.

  For a change, the words were starting to make sense. This was about doing what God wanted for everyone in a home and then everything would be okay. As they finished the song and raised their heads, Kasper spoke again while making the sign of the cross and everyone sang, “Amen.” At least Lorenz figured that's what the word meant. Then they all smiled, the women hugged, the men shook hands, and everyone thanked Kasper who was beaming at them all. Where, Lorenz wondered, was all the shouting that he associated with preaching?

  Martin and the other men grabbed the chair they had been sitting on and carried them out to the big table. Lorenz did the same. The women all seemed to be babbling about the cooking when Tante GreGerde slipped something into his hand and smiled at him. Lorenz looked down and his eyes widened. Without thinking, he plopped the candy into his mouth. Daniel couldn't get this one. He smiled. “Danke, Tante GreGrede.” It was the same words he had used so many times long ago.

  Tante smiled back at him. “Well,” she demanded, “does it taste as good as before?” Her brown eyes were bright with the sadness gone.

  “Yes'm!” He rolled the maple ball in his mouth, not even realizing he had switched from English to German and back to English. “Hit's no wonder we used to fight over who got the last one.”

  Tante GreGerde beamed at him and nodded her head in satisfaction. Martin gave him a push on the shoulder. “Come on help me get ready for horseshoes. That way we're out of the kitchen.”