The Heart's Voice

by Arlene James

  Becca bit her lip and said, “I’ll check.” Shifting Jemmy off her lap, she went to the foot of the steps and gathered up the things they’d dropped earlier. “Might as well get dressed,” she said, carrying them into the light. She placed the lot on the chair and plucked out several items, including a disposable diaper, which she held out to Dan. “Think you can manage CJ while I take care of me and Jemmy?”

  “Try,” he said uncertainly, looking at the bits of clothing as he took them into his hand. He looked up a moment later to find her waiting.

  “Well, turn around,” she said, making a twirling motion with her finger.

  “Oh.” He got up and turned the chair so that it faced the wall, CJ and his clothing tucked under one arm. He sat down again and started trying to figure out what went where.

  The diaper was first, of course. Fortunately CJ lay placidly with his head upon Dan’s knees while he managed it. He’d dismantled sophisticated weapons less confusing than all those folds and gathers and tabs, and it wasn’t until he had the thing on that he realized it was backward.

  “Again,” he said with a sigh, but CJ had been patient as long as he was going to be. It became a real wrestling match, and for once Dan was glad he couldn’t hear, for he was sure there was much laughing going on behind him. Nevertheless, he finally got the squirmy critter corralled and saddled. Then came the actual clothing, which turned out to be a one-piece shorts-and-shirt thing with a bewildering number of snaps. He fastened the crotch together twice before he got it right, and by then CJ was completely out of patience. Hitting a moving target at a hundred yards was nothing, Dan concluded, compared to getting a tiny sock on a busy foot. In the end, Becca came to rescue them both.

  Dressed simply in faded jeans, gray T-shirt and running shoes, she wasn’t wearing any socks, either. “Let’s just forget about these,” she said, tucking those tiny stockings into a pocket. “Anybody hungry?”

  Jemmy jumped up and down, the ruffled hem of her favorite flowered nightgown belling out to reveal the cuffs of the shorts she wore underneath. Apparently Becca hadn’t managed to grab her a top. At least she had snagged a pair of tennis shoes for her. As Becca reached for two jars of sliced peaches and a small box of plastic forks, Jemmy knocked into the empty chair. She stilled at once. Becca obviously chose not to scold the child in these trying circumstances, a decision Dan found wise.

  “We’ll have to eat out of the jar,” she said, handing one to Dan. “Try not to get syrup all over yourselves. We may be wearing these clothes for a while.”

  She smiled, but Dan saw the worry in her gaze and nodded mutely. Becca calmly set her chair upright and parked herself in it, Jemmy coming to lean against her knee. Dan held the plastic fork in his teeth while he twisted open the jar, feeling the pop that told him the seal was good and the fruit safe to eat, but he hesitated before he put the fork into the jar, looking up at Becca. She seemed to know exactly what he was thinking and reached out her hand for his. He clasped her fingers and bowed his head.

  “Dear Lord, thank You.” It was all he could get out, but it was enough. Becca squeezed his hand and let go. When he looked up, she was forking a peach slice into Jemmy’s mouth.

  The best that Dan could manage with CJ was to lean the child way out over his legs and quickly slide a whole peach slice into his gaping maw. The boy could swallow almost without chewing, and half the quart jar was gone before Dan got his first bite. He ate the rest with CJ sitting quietly against his chest, drank the syrup, dropped the fork into the empty jar, which he placed out of the way on a nearby shelf, and wiped his sticky mouth with the palm of his hand. When he looked down at CJ, he saw that the boy slept. Jemmy was drinking the syrup out of the jar she’d shared with her mother.

  “What do you hear?” he asked Becca.

  “Nothing for some time now.” The look on her face said that, much as she dreaded it, they could probably safely look outside.

  “Wait for daylight,” he suggested, and she nodded agreement. Neither had to say that the dark could hide unknown dangers if the storm had done much damage.

  Dan didn’t know how long they sat there, her cradling Jemmy, him holding a sleeping CJ, but the air had gotten close and stale and his joints felt stiff and uncomfortable when he finally rose.

  Jemmy, too, came to her feet, so he slid CJ into his mother’s arms and reached for the flashlight. “Let me look first.”

  Becca nodded, and he slid his palm against her cheek before he went to the stairs. Dread filled him, but it was easy enough to set aside. They were all alive and well. And together. He’d not ask for more than that.

  He climbed the steep steps, put his shoulder to the door and shoved upward, but it barely budged. Not a good sign. He pocketed the flashlight and tried again, feeling something heavy slide around on the top of the door. He looked back down into the cellar, saying, “Becca, help me.”

  Becca rose and placed CJ in the seat of the chair, instructing Jemmy to stand in front of him and keep him trapped in his seat. Jemmy seemed to relish the job. Becca squeezed up the steps beside Dan and placed her hands flat on the underside of the door. He pulled her up higher.

  “Use your back.”

  She maneuvered until she got her shoulders pressed up against the door. Dan craned his head out of the way to accommodate her. He patted her legs to let her know that she should push with those rather than just her back.

  “On three.” She nodded, and he counted. “One, two, three.”

  For a moment he didn’t think they’d make it, but then whatever it was blocking the door slid free and the door literally flew open. Gray light flooded the stairwell. Dan caught Becca as she lost her balance, steadying her with his hands.

  “Wait,” he said, promising her with his eyes that no matter what they found, all would be well. She shrank back, and he climbed up out of the hole of the cellar into…chaos. And open air. The refrigerator had been blocking the door, but that was about the only recognizable shape he saw. Becca’s house lay in jumbled piles of debris, bits of newly installed insulation fluttering like pink dandelions in the breeze. Even the floor had buckled and tilted crazily. It wasn’t light enough to see much more, but what he could see was catastrophe.

  He turned back to the cellar and looked down to find Becca waiting with wide, uncertain eyes, CJ on her hip, Jemmy’s hand clasped in hers. He reached down and drew her gently upward, saying, “Sorry, honey.”

  Tears filled her eyes, but for a long moment she looked only at him. Then she took that last step up and out. Wandering slowly forward, she clasped her son to her and took it all in. Dan let her go, let her deal with it, but when she reached the spot where her new porch had stood, now swept clean of even the sand that had once covered the hard ground, she fell forward onto her knees. Yanking Jemmy along with him, he rushed to her side and went down onto the dirt with her, pulling her into his arms, pulling Jemmy in with them, CJ wedged between their chests.

  She sobbed, but the children, oddly, remained dry-eyed. With Jemmy it was shock, with CJ confusion. Dan held them all as close as he could get them and waited it out. Presently Becca began to pray. He couldn’t hear what she was saying, but it didn’t matter. As he held her with her face tucked into the curve of his neck, he could feel the words against his skin, and though he couldn’t identify a one, he knew the essence of them, for they were the same words that his own heart prayed.

  Why?

  Help.

  What now? How do we fix this? We survived.

  Thank You.

  Chapter Eight

  They sat on the ground for a long time as daylight gradually brought the devastation into full relief. Becca didn’t want to look. She didn’t want to leave the shelter of Dan’s arms. If ever she had doubted that Dan Holden was the answer to her prayers, she would not do so again. He had saved them. God had used Dan to save her and her children.

  “What do we do now?” she asked his shoulder.

  His only reply to that was to bracket her face
with his hands and tilt her head back because, of course, he couldn’t have heard her. She smiled wryly and saw in his bright eyes a tender concern that brought fresh tears to her own. The children began to stir.

  Jemmy sat flat on the ground, leaning against both Becca and Dan, and now she rubbed her eyes as if awakening. CJ had slipped down to Dan’s lap when he had shifted off his knees to sit with his legs folded back beneath him and slightly to one side. Her poor baby was holding the hem of Becca’s T-shirt and the sleeve of Dan’s as if he needed to be doubly sure that he was anchored to this world. He tugged uncertainly at her, and she straightened away from Dan to smile blearily at CJ and take him into the fold of one arm, wrapping the other around Jemmy.

  “I don’t know what to do next,” she said to Dan, feeling stupid.

  He got to his feet, dusting off his jeans with busy whacks of his hands as he glanced around the immediate vicinity. “Head for town.”

  Jemmy stood, keeping close. Dan reached down and pulled Becca to her feet by one arm, CJ sliding into position on her hip. He held her gaze for a time, as if willing her to be strong. Becca steeled herself, full of dread, then turned and caught her breath.

  It was even worse than she’d first thought.

  Broken, soggy bits of debris were snagged in the bushes that had grown up around the fencerow. Much of it was tangled in twists and curls of barbed wire. A cast-iron skillet and a single fork, the plastic dish drainer, the broken handle of a broom and the sides of a rattan clothes hamper were strewn about the yard. Her car lay on its side, missing its hood and most of its glass. A fence post had been embedded in one wheel well and stuck out at a crazy angle. She saw a wooden block and a tiny die-cast car in a clump of grass. What was left of her television set had been buried by one corner in the dirt next to it. The old hickory tree that stood about fifteen yards to the east of the house was now bald and split. Worse, Dan’s truck was wrapped around it.

  “Oh, Dan,” she said, turning to him.

  He shrugged. “Insured.”

  “Well, thank heaven for that,” she said, not even wanting to think about her own situation.

  Bringing his hands to his hips, he said. “Guess we walk. Or I do.”

  She glanced around once more. “There’s no point in hanging around here. We’ll all go.”

  “You sure?”

  She wasn’t really, but she couldn’t think of anything more depressing than sitting here alone with the kids. “If you don’t mind. We’ll have to take our time.”

  He reached for CJ and her hand. “Plenty of that.”

  She took Jemmy’s hand with her free one, and they started off at a sedate pace, Dan matching his gait to Jemmy’s. They hadn’t gone very far, just a few yards down the road toward town, when Becca felt her spirits begin to lift. The air tasted clean, crisp. The bright sun felt gentle. The sky had never seemed so blue. She began to realize that the post oaks lining the bar ditches that flanked the dirt road were alive with fluttering movement. She squeezed Dan’s hand, and he turned his head to look at her.

  “Birds are singing.”

  He nodded and looked up, pointing with his chin. A pair of small brown wrens dipped and darted, cavorting like happy children. Becca burbled laughter, glad to be alive, and Dan’s strong right arm came around her shoulders, squeezing and momentarily throwing her off stride. Then he pointed to one side.

  “Rabbit.”

  They stopped and stayed still until Jemmy spotted the small gray hare with white tufted ears. It hopped off as soon as she began to speak to it, but she smiled, wonder in her eyes. Becca shook her head at that. Jemmy had seen rabbits before, even held and petted tame ones, but the whole world had become a gift with their survival of the storm.

  A little farther on, Jemmy herself caught sight of a tortoise sticking its head up from a depression in the ground. It retreated into its shell as she ran toward it, but presently poked its head out again, beady eyes rolling. Becca stopped her from reaching for it, and Jemmy immediately put up a fuss to take it home as a friend for Buddy.

  “This is a wild thing, Jem, not a pet.”

  Jemmy’s lower lip began to tremble. Just then Dan crouched at the edge of the depression, CJ on his knee and a twig in hand. He dropped the end of the twig in front of the tortoise’s head, and the critter snapped with shocking speed, yanking the twig from Dan’s hand as it again retreated. Jemmy jumped back with a yelp.

  “Bad turtle!” she cried.

  Dan wrapped his arm around her and brought her close to his side, saying, “Reckon he’s had a tough time, too. Better leave him be. Okay?”

  Jemmy dashed a tear from one eye with a dusty hand. “’Kay.”

  He nodded and patted her arm before rising to his feet once more. They started walking again, but Jemmy’s mood had soured, and she complained of being tired and bored. Becca began to hum a familiar song, and soon Jem was singing along and skipping ahead. Becca was beginning to feel fatigued herself. None of them had gotten much sleep, and the adrenaline surge of terror had abated. She wondered how long they could keep up the pace.

  Sure enough, they hadn’t gone quite a mile when Jemmy began to flag. Dan paused long enough to hand CJ to Becca and swing Jemmy up onto his back. A spurt of guilt shot through Becca, and she mentally castigated herself. She should’ve stayed at the house with the kids and waited for him to return with help—except the house no longer existed. The devastation boggled her mind. She didn’t dare think about it yet. Better to concentrate on the here and now.

  “You can’t carry her the whole way,” Becca told Dan, feeling hot and drained.

  “Won’t need to,” he said, striding ahead, his hands behind him to support Jemmy, who had wrapped both arms and legs around him.

  Dirt gave way to pavement, which made the walking easier but hotter. They trudged on, not speaking or pausing except to shift a child into a more supportable position. At the end of the second mile they stopped to rest. Becca’s tongue was sticking to the roof of her mouth. Her feet felt sweaty, and CJ had started to fuss. She swept a place free of stones in the dirt at the edge of the road and sat down cross-legged, CJ in her lap. Dan and Jem did the same. Becca’s forearms had started to sunburn. She wasn’t as brown as Dan or even Jemmy. She shielded CJ with her body as best she could and sighed, pushing damp, scraggly hair away from her face. She must look a sight, but what could she do about it now?

  She caught Dan’s eye and said, “Wish someone would come along.”

  Dan nodded, squinting into the distance, his forearms balanced on his knees. “Me, too.”

  “I wish I had some chocolate milk,” Jemmy announced.

  “When we get to town,” Becca promised. Providing it’s still there, she added silently, biting her lip. Just how hard had the town been hit? she wondered. Were Abby and John Odem safe? She wished she had some way to let them know that she and the kids were okay. Dan seemed to be reading her thoughts.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “Be okay.”

  She nodded and put on a brighter face, though a real smile seemed to elude her.

  They sat there until the ground got too hard for comfort. When Jemmy rose, so did Dan. He reached down for CJ, who went readily into his arms, and once more hauled up Becca, who let him, even as it occurred to her that she had come to depend on him even for small things like this. She pushed away a sense of desperation and fixed her mind on just getting to town.

  Dan looked down at Jemmy. “Walk a bit?”

  She nodded and moved between him and Becca. He lifted CJ onto his shoulders, clasping his hands behind the baby’s back. CJ grabbed an ear and a fistful of hair. Becca took Jemmy’s hand and squared her shoulders. Off they went.

  That last mile seemed to stretch on and on forever. Heat radiated in silver waves off the pavement. The sun had grown harsh, mocking. Becca held tears at bay with a willing numbness. Dan had shifted CJ to his chest and instructed Jemmy to walk in the shadows that he and Becca cast as they trudged along.

  The
y didn’t pass another soul all the way into town, but as they drew closer they could see signs of damage. Trees and highline poles were down. Shingles and leaves and bits of other matter littered the ground. Becca’s concern for Abby and John Odem grew.

  “Didn’t set down,” Dan pointed out. He didn’t say, and she didn’t have to be told, that a tornado didn’t have to touch the ground to do a great deal of damage.

  Jemmy began to complain and then to cry, and they were blocks yet from Dan’s house. He looked to Becca, the first real signs of worry puckering his brow. “Can you take CJ?”

  She wasn’t really sure that she could, but she nodded and held out her arms. Once he was on her hip, the baby felt part of her again. Dan scooped up Jemmy and held her against his shoulder, stiff and sniffling, but before they could move forward, a black-and-white patrol car turned from behind an empty building onto the street and came toward them. Dan waved it to a stop, and Clay Parks got out, one of only two deputy police officers employed by the city. He was a compact man with a boyish face and easygoing manner.

  “You folks all right?”

  “Just tired,” Dan said, sounding it. “Mrs. Kinder’s house was destroyed. We had to walk in.” He didn’t offer any explanation for him being with them.

  “Say, I’m sorry to hear that,” Clay told her.

  “Can you tell me if Abby and John Odem are okay?” Becca asked urgently.

  Clay nodded, the brim of his brown felt cowboy hat rocking to and fro. “Saw Abby not two hours ago. They had some damage at the house. Otherwise they rode it out just fine. She was worried on account of not being able to reach you, with the phones being down. Power’s off, too, but the chief called it in on his cell. Oughta be back on in a few hours.”

  “Could you take me and the kids over there?” Becca pleaded. “We’re about done in.”

  “Drop us at my house,” Dan countered.

  Becca bit her lip uncertainly. “I don’t know. Maybe we should go straight to Abby’s.”