“What’s that?” asked Jerusha.
“They help her to breathe with a tube in her throat,” Bobby said.
“Oh, Bobby!” Jerusha cried, bursting into tears. “Is my little girl going to die?”
“I don’t know, Jerusha,” Bobby said as he put his arm around her shoulder. “I just don’t know. We have to wait and hope we got her here in time...”
...and leave her in the Lord’s hands.
The staff nurse led Jerusha into the ICU and pointed her to a chair by Jenna’s bed. Jenna lay still beneath a sheet, her face wet with perspiration. Her head and neck were arched slightly back and her breathing was shallow and quick. Tubes ran from both arms to a jumble of bottles hanging on racks above her.
“You just sit here, Mrs. Springer,” the nurse said. “We have her on a monitor in the nurses’ station, and if anything changes we’ll be right in.” The nurse left Jerusha sitting next to Jenna’s bed.
How can this be happening? Where is Reuben?
Her thoughts whirled like a flock of blackbirds, and a deep despair crept over her. She slipped to her knees beside the bed and began to pray.
“Please, God, don’t take my little girl away. Please, please, please let her live.”
All day and through the night, Jerusha stayed by Jenna, praying to God and talking quietly to her little girl. At times Jenna became agitated in her sleep, and Jerusha spoke soothingly to her and caressed her brow. Jenna would calm and sink back into sleep. From time to time a nurse would come in and check Jenna’s vital signs. Early the next morning the doctor came in with the nurse. He spoke more gently to Jerusha this time.
“We have the results of the tests we ran. The Gram’s stain definitely shows Jenna has meningitis caused by meningococcic bacteria. Along with that, she has a blood infection. I’m having the nurse switch her off the benzylpenicillin to ampicillin and vancomycin. I must warn you that even if these drugs are effective, the disease was quite advanced when she was admitted, and there may be serious complications if she survives. There could be deafness, swelling of the brain, and possibly cognitive impairment. If we get her through this stage, she might be a very different little girl than the one you know.” He paused and then added, “I’m sorry.”
“Mr. Halverson is still in the waiting room,” said the nurse. “He’s been there all night.”
Jerusha went out to the waiting room. Bobby was sitting with his hands together, looking at the floor. When he heard Jerusha, he looked up. His face was pale, and his eyes were red from lack of sleep.
“Bobby, I’m sorry I left you out here,” she said. “I—”
“It’s all right, Jerusha.” He smiled weakly. “I understand. How’s she doing?”
Jerusha put her hands to her face and began to cry. Bobby stepped to her side and clumsily tried to comfort her.
“It’s okay, Jerusha,” he said quietly. “You’ve just got...to trust...”
“In the Lord?” snapped Jerusha. “I have prayed and prayed and begged Him to spare her and she’s only gotten worse. The doctor says that even if she lives she will probably be...different. Where is Reuben?”
Bobby stared at her as though seeing a side of her he had never known. “Reuben hasn’t come yet,” he said. “If you want me to go get him, I will.”
“You can’t make Reuben overcome his fear of the world,” Jerusha said. “I should have listened to my intuition when he came home from the war. He came back changed. He wasn’t the man I fell in love with. You can do what you want, Bobby. I’m going to go sit with our daughter.”
Jerusha turned on her heel and went back to the ICU. Bobby stared after her, the hurt from her words in his eyes.
Jerusha sat with Jenna through the rest of the morning and into the afternoon. The day had been foggy and overcast with a gloom that the weak November sun couldn’t pierce. Finally in late afternoon, the overcast sky began to clear up, and the sun broke through. A shaft of light came through the window and fell on Jenna’s face. The little girl opened her eyes. Jerusha leaned forward, but Jenna was looking beyond her. She opened her mouth and spoke clearly and quietly.
“I can’t come now. Who will take care of my mama?”
Then she closed her eyes. Jerusha sat still. Jenna’s head was still turned toward the window. Jerusha took her daughter’s hand in hers and watched the slow pulse beating in Jenna’s neck—once, twice...She watched it beat one more time and then stop.
Jerusha sat still, not comprehending what had just happened. She became aware of a bell ringing somewhere, and nurses filled the room. A gentle hand took her arm and led her out into the hall. She saw Dr. Schaeffer rush past as the nurse led her out into the waiting room.
Reuben was standing there with Bobby. She stared at him and then slowly walked to him. She raised her fists together and struck him on the chest.
“It’s your fault!” she cried.
She raised her fists again and began to strike him slowly on the chest. Reuben stood still with a lost look on his face. He did not defend himself.
Bobby came between them then and gently stopped her arms. Reuben remained silent.
“She’s dead. The doctor said if we had gotten her here earlier...”
And then Jerusha’s face hardened into a mask. “I want to go home, Bobby, but I don’t want Reuben there.” She didn’t look at Reuben or acknowledge him.
“Jerusha, think of what you’re doing,” Bobby said. “Don’t make a decision like that now.” And then the enormity of what had happened came to Bobby, and he began to weep.
Reuben remained still, his face unreadable.
“Bobby, if you don’t take me home, I’ll call a cab and go home myself.” Jerusha walked out the door into the cold.
Bobby followed after her. “All right, Jerusha, I’ll take you home. Wait here for a minute.”
Bobby went back inside and spoke to Reuben. Jerusha could see them through the glass door. Bobby was animated, his arms moving. Reuben stood still and answered in monosyllables. Finally Bobby came out.
“Jerusha, Reuben’s going to stay with me for a few days until we get this sorted out. He needs some things from the house. Maybe you should stay with your parents tonight while he collects them.”
The bitter cold chilled Jerusha to the bone. Numbly, she agreed to Bobby’s suggestion. The last light of the sun spiked in pale rays above the western horizon. The wind began to pick up, blowing snow. Darkness closed in on Jerusha’s heart.
It was winter in Apple Creek.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Flight into Darkness
IT WAS FREEZING COLD in the cabin, but Jerusha was drenched in sweat. Tears poured down her face.
I saw her little heart stop beating, and then she was gone. O God, this is too much to bear.
And then the voice spoke to her heart. “I did not say that you would have no pain in this world. I did say that I would never leave you or forsake you. Let not your heart be troubled. Jenna is with Me, but Reuben is still with you, and he needs you.”
Jerusha had watched Reuben through the big glass door at the hospital while Bobby talked to him. He had looked like a deer caught in the headlights. His face was white, his hands shook, and he could only answer Bobby’s questions with monosyllables.
“It was not Reuben’s fault that Jenna became sick. I did not create this world with death in it; I created it perfect and good. And even when death came into this world, I made a way back to life. Each person on this earth has an appointed time, and that time is in My hands. Take the blessing that Jenna was to your life and move beyond the pain. You made a promise to Reuben, and now you must keep it. He needed you, and you forsook him. You must forgive him.”
In her memory of that day at the hospital, Jerushsa saw again Reuben’s eyes. They were empty of life, a dark pit. The joy that had once lived there had dwindled to nothing. He was a devastated man. As Jerusha recalled that scene, her heart began to melt and break for her husband.
I’m sorry, Reuben
. I’m so sorry…
Reuben watched as Jerusha left through the front door of the hospital with Bobby right behind her. His tongue cleaved to the roof of his mouth, and his thoughts were chaotic. In a few minutes Bobby came back in.
“You’ve got trouble, my friend,” he said. “Jerusha wants nothing to do with you right now. I suggest you come over to my house for a few days until she calms down.”
“Okay.”
Bobby came up close and looked into Reuben’s eyes. “Reuben, are you alright?”
“She’s dead, Bobby.”
“I know, Reuben. I wish you knew how terrible I feel for you and Jerusha and for me. This is just awful.”
“Jerusha’s right. It’s my fault.”
“Reuben, now is not the time for taking the blame. You did what you thought was right. It just didn’t turn out the way you expected. Come over to my place and rest. We’ll get this all sorted out.”
“I’ll need some things,” Reuben said.
“I’ll take Jerusha to her folks’ house for the night. She should be with someone anyway. I’ll call Henry and have him pick you up and take you home for your things and then drive you to my place. Reuben, Jerusha just lost her baby. She’ll get through this when she’s had a few days to accept it.”
“She hates me, Bobby. I can see it in her eyes.”
“Just calm down, Reuben,” Bobby said. “We’ll get through this...”
...with the Lord’s help.
“She’ll never forgive me. No one can help me now... not even God.”
“I’ll help however I can,” Bobby said. “Just don’t give up hope, buddy.”
After Bobby and Jerusha left, Reuben sat in the waiting room for what seemed like hours, staring at the floor. His hands and feet felt numb. He couldn’t get the accusing thoughts out of his head.
I believed You would protect my family if I did everything right, but Jenna died anyway. Now Jerusha hates me and You have abandoned me. I trusted You, I did everything by the book, and now I’ve lost everything I love.
Suddenly Reuben felt a hand on his shoulder. “Reuben?” Reuben looked up into Henry Lowenstein’s face.
“Reuben, I’m...I’m so sorry,” he choked out.
Reuben just stared at Henry with a blank look on his face.
“Come on, Reuben,” said Henry. “Bobby wants me to take you by your house to pick up some things.”
Henry took Reuben’s arm and tried to pull him up. Reuben jerked his arm away and stood.
“I’m not a cripple, Henry. I’m just a murderer.”
“Reuben, don’t say such things!”
“It’s the truth. I killed Jenna just as sure as if I put a gun to her head and shot her. You can take me home, but I don’t want to go to Bobby’s. I’ve got to sort some things out.”
“Well, Bobby said...”
“I don’t care what Bobby said!”
Others in the waiting room glanced up at Reuben. A nurse stood up from behind the admitting desk and came toward them. He waved her away and turned to Henry. “Just get me home.”
After Henry took him home, Reuben sat in the darkened and quiet house. Where joy and love and peace had abounded, now there was only despair. He sat on a kitchen chair with his elbows on his knees and his fingers interlocked behind his head. The cradle his daughter had slept in as an infant now sat empty in front of him.
Reuben sat there all night until the morning sunlight began to creep in through the kitchen window. At last he stirred himself and stood up. He went quickly into the bedroom, opened the closet, and dug around until he found a small metal box. He opened it. Inside were several rolls of bills and a sheaf of papers. He put several of the bills in his pocket, looked through the papers, took a pen off the dresser, and signed them on the last page. He found another sheet of paper and began to write.
Jerusha,
I’m leaving. I know you hate me and believe I’m responsible for Jenna’s death, and you are probably right. I’m leaving you $5000. It’s part of the military pay I saved while in the hospital and never spent.
Don’t worry, I won’t come back. I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me someday. I can only wish you truly find a happy life in the years ahead.
Reuben
Reuben went through his drawers and closet and gathered up some clothes and personal items. He packed them into a small satchel and looked around his home one last time. Then he walked out the door and closed it behind him. He walked through the field and crossed the small bridge between their house and the Lowensteins’. He went up on the porch and knocked. After a while Henry’s father came to the door.
“Why, Reuben, what are you doing here?” he asked.
“I came to see if Henry could give me a ride back to Wooster,” said Reuben quietly. “I have some things I need to take care of.”
“I’m sure he can. I’ll go get him.”
Mr. Lowenstein started to go back in the house but then turned and said, “Come in and wait in the living room. I’m so sorry about Jenna. Is there anything we can do for you and Jerusha?”
“Thank you,” Reuben said. “We’ll be all right. It will just take some time.”
Reuben shifted from one foot to the other while Henry’s father went to fetch Henry. In a few minutes Henry came out, pulling on a shirt.
“What can I do for you?” Henry asked. “A ride?”
“If you don’t mind. I need a ride back to Wooster to take care of Jenna.”
“Sure. I’ll take you wherever you need to go. Let me grab a jacket.”
They drove to Wooster and stopped at the mortuary. Reuben made arrangements for the mortician to pick up Jenna’s body and deliver it to Jerusha’s parents for burial. Then they went to the hospital, where Reuben signed release papers. He then had Henry drop him off at a used-car lot.
“Goodbye, Henry,” Reuben said as he got out of the car with his suitcase. “I won’t see you again. Please keep an eye on Jerusha. She’ll need a friend.”
“Are you sure this is what you want to do, Reuben? Don’t you think you ought to wait?”
“This is for the best.”
Reuben closed the car door and walked into the dealership. He asked about a used Ford pickup in the lot and laid a hundred dollars on the counter. The salesman wanted to show him other cars, but Reuben shook his head and pointed to the pickup.
In half an hour Reuben was on the road.
He stopped at a motel on the edge of town and rented a room. After he took his things inside, he went next door to a grocery store and bought a razor and some shaving cream. He went back to his room and stared at himself in the bathroom mirror for a long time, and then he lathered his face and shaved off his beard. He went into the room and pulled a wool shirt and an old jacket out of his suitcase and put them on. He left his hat and black coat on the bed and went out to the truck. He threw his suitcase in the back, climbed in, and started the motor. He sat there for a few minutes with his head down, not moving. Then he sighed deeply, raised his head, and without looking back, pulled onto the highway and headed west.
Bobby Halverson drove down the county highway thinking about Reuben. He had been gone for a year now. After Jenna’s death, he had just disappeared. Henry had come to his house the morning after the tragedy and shared his concern with Bobby.
“I left him at a used car lot in Wooster. He didn’t look good, Bobby. He was saying all kinds of weird stuff about killing Jenna and being a murderer. I got a bad feeling about all of this.”
I’m sorry I didn’t see it coming, Reuben. I knew something happened to you up in that trench on Guadalcanal, but I thought you’d get over it. When you went back to the Amish, I figured you’d be okay. You and Jerusha were so happy, and when the baby came it was like your life got on the right track. But I should have talked to you about it—made you talk about how you were feeling. I guess I failed you as a friend. I sure wish you’d come home. I need your help...and so does Jerusha.
The last piece
of wood from the shed was burned. The light was dying outside, and Jerusha knew the two of them probably wouldn’t survive another night without a fire. The cold continued to close in on Jerusha and the little girl like circling wolves. The wind howled as the day crept on into night. Jerusha huddled under the quilt with the child and stroked her brow.
I’m sorry, little one. I tried to save you, but I can’t do it by myself. I’m sorry, Lord. I see now that You didn’t kill Jenna, and Reuben didn’t either. It was this world, fallen from grace and filled with evil and disease. If only I could see Reuben one last time. I would tell him that I forgive him...and that I need him.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
A Place to Hide
LOWELL JACKSON’S RANCH SAT HIGH on a ridge outside Fairplay, Colorado. From his front porch he could see cars on Highway 9 in the valley below him. One day in January of 1950, he watched from his porch chair as an old Ford pickup turned onto his road far below and began the circuitous passage up the mountain.
A light dusting of snow had covered the road earlier that morning, but the afternoon sun had melted it, and now the gravel road was in good shape. Lowell had lived on this ranch since retiring from the army in 1939. He raised horses and some cattle, but mostly he watched as the world went on its way far below. He didn’t get many visitors, so the old Ford crawling up the hardpan road was of some interest to him.
“Manuel, looks like we got company,” he called out. “Better set another place for dinner.”
An old Mexican man limped out on the porch with a fry pan in his hand. He was as grizzled as Lowell and wore a Detroit Tigers baseball cap.
“Why we got to make a place, Señor Lowell?” he grumbled. “I only cook enough beans for you and me.”
“Don’t argue, you old cactus,” Lowell said. “Just put on some of those steaks you been saving and get some potatoes from the cellar. It’ll take that truck a while to get up here, so git!”
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