by Mary Ellis
“Mamm, I’m getting you dirty.” She tried to wriggle away without success.
“That’s what washing machines are for.” After embracing a full minute, Rosanna took Violet’s arm to offer support, her composure and reserved nature returning. “I’ll bet you’re starving…and thirsty. And I’m sure a bath would feel nice.” The three Trasks resumed their glacially slow progress to the house.
When Violet reached the base of the steps she began to cry. “Oh, mamm, our sweet little mare is dead. We’ve had her since I was a child. We tied her up under a shady tree by the road, but when we returned after the twister, she was gone.” Her cries escalated into near hysteria.
“Stop crying,” murmured Solomon. “Nell is in the barn right now. She found her way home and she’s fine.” Both parents carried Violet up the steps.
“She didn’t get sucked up in the twister?” she asked in disbelief.
“Nein, she ate a bucket of oats and fell asleep. She’ll probably sleep until Saturday.” Once they reached the porch, Sol lifted his daughter into his arms, despite her protests, and deposited her on a kitchen chair.
“I’ll draw a warm tub of water. Then you will eat and go to bed.” Rosanna bustled into the bathroom, content with something practical to do.
Violet propped her head with both hands. “I might fall asleep and drown.”
“Not with me in there with you,” called Rosanna. “We must wash your hair. Who knows what crawled inside that tangle.” Soon, the sound of running faucets obscured the rest of her plans.
Solomon poured her a glass of water, which Violet drank down in long gulps.
“When we got to the road my buggy was gone too—just one broken wheel was left. That’s why I thought Nell had died.” Her chin sagged despite her cupped palms.
“Knowing how you tie off reins,” a voice sounded from behind them, “Nell probably broke free after the first peel of thunder.” Irvin and Susanna crossed the room in a few strides, with Mark and Ann, and Kathryn and John on their heels. Soon siblings filled the Trask kitchen, eager to welcome home their storm-fighting sister. They surrounded her with hugs and kisses, heedless of her muddy condition.
“Hello, everybody, but where are my nieces and nephews?” she asked. “Don’t they want to see the aunt who refused to blow away in a tornado?” Violet drank the second glass of water Sol poured.
Kathryn slipped into the chair vacated by Rosanna. “They’re in bed. Tomorrow will be soon enough for that mob to pester you with questions. They can wait until after you’re rested.”
At the mention of rest, Violet stifled a yawn. “Mama’s going to give me a bubble bath, just like when we were kinner. And shampoo my hair so I won’t drown in the tub.”
“I’ll feed you supper while you soak,” said Ann, burrowing in the refrigerator. “If you weren’t so exhausted, you would feel like a pampered Englischer at one of those day spas.”
“How would you know what goes on in one of those?” Mark sprang up to help slice roast beef left over from dinner.
“I saw a picture in a magazine, and I have a good imagination.” Ann loaded enough potato salad onto a plate for three women.
Kathryn set a glass of milk before her younger sister. “How is your friend Nora?” she asked softly.
“The medical people sewed up a gash on her head in a makeshift tent. She refused to go to Columbia, so they gave her a shot and a bottle of pills to take.” Violet drank long sips of milk. “They wouldn’t give her pain relievers because she might have a concussion. Nora said she didn’t have a headache for the first time in days. Imagine that. A clunk on the head can cure migraines. If we had only known sooner.” She tried to stand but fell back down. Kathryn and Ann half-walked, half-carried Violet to the bathroom.
Solomon dabbed his eyes again. Summer pollen must be affecting him adversely tonight. “Okay, the rest of you back to bed. Tomorrow will be soon enough for more questions.” He resumed the patriarchal role with his offspring.
“Too late for bed, daed. Look.” Irvin opened the kitchen door, which swung precariously from the top hinge only.
Everyone stared as the sun rose above the horizon, streaking the sky with pink and gold. “Let’s hope for good weather. This people of Missouri will have their work cut out for them today.”
Mark joined Irvin in the doorway. “And for a long time to come. Who wants to tend animals—and do everyone’s chores—and who wants to check on our neighbors? Folks might need our help.” Sol’s sons and son-in-law strode outdoors, arguing as to who would do what.
He carefully closed the door behind them and bowed his head in prayer. Until I draw my dying breath, I will be grateful to You for preserving my family.
Thursday
Nora awoke to bright sunlight streaming through her bedroom window. Birds chirped in the trees as though nothing had happened the day before. For a brief moment she thought about pulling the shade and going back to sleep, as she hadn’t arrived home until almost dawn, but one name sprang to mind and one face was instantly etched on the inside of her lids. Lewis. Was he dead…or injured, still trapped beneath rubble? Or had he already headed to Columbia to catch the next bus back to St. Louis?
Why stick around when the woman supposedly in love with you had given you the cold shoulder?
Except she actually was in love with him.
Bolting from the bed, she staggered and nearly fell as the room swam before her eyes. She’d forgotten her head injury. Gingerly, she touched the bandaged spot before swallowing two Tylenol tablets and one of the antibiotics. She’d bathed only a few hours ago, so now she dressed and brushed her teeth as quickly as possible. Within ten minutes she arrived in the kitchen sporting only a minor limp from her assortment of bruises, scratches, and blisters.
Emily stared at her, while Jonas nearly dropped the case of bottled water he was carrying. “What are you doing up?” demanded her boss. “You’ve only been sleeping about four hours.”
Nora clutched the back of a kitchen chair. “About the same length of time for the two of you. Where are you going?”
“We didn’t get knocked unconscious and then walk miles of bad roads, injured.” Emily moved the hampers and several thermoses of coffee to the counter near the door. “You should eat something and then go back to bed, Nora. After we load up food, water, and our first aid kit, we plan to make ourselves useful in the community. People might still be trapped in cellars.”
“We’ve borrowed our neighbor’s buggy. We’ll take it as far as we can and then start walking.” Jonas lifted the first load and carried it outside.
“I have to find Lewis,” said Nora. “I can’t stay here napping if he might be hurt or…dead. If he’s still alive, there’s something I must tell him.”
Emily’s face filled with pity. “There’s no point going to the lumberyard. It’s closed until further notice. Nobody will be there.”
Nora began to perspire, even though the room wasn’t warm. “Then where is he?” she gasped. “Why didn’t he come home last night?”
Emily shoved bread, crackers, peanut butter, and jam into a cloth tote bag. “He moved to Seth’s house yesterday, remember? They only worked half a day and then went home to get Lewis settled in. I’m not sure if they were on the road or already at Yoders’ when the twister hit.”
Nora swallowed hard. “Then I’ll go to the Yoder farm.”
Emily pressed the back of her hand to her forehead. “They live on the other side of the lumberyard. You’ll never get through.” She stopped packing long enough to face Nora. “Give the workers a few days before venturing out for unnecessary travel. Don’t forget you suffered a blow to the head.”
Nora reflected a moment. “I know you think me silly, Emily, but this is the only thing I’ve been sure of in a long time. I love him and I must know if he survived the storm, even if he returns to Maine. I know a shortcut to Seth’s that will save both time and distance. On my way home, I’ll check in on Violet and the Trask family.” She walked
to the sink to fill her aluminum water bottle. “I promise not to make extra work for rescuers, and I’ll help anyone in need along the way.”
“Can you ride a saddled horse?” asked Jonas from the doorway.
Nora pivoted around as hope and anticipation began to build. “I can. My father taught Rachel and me when we were young. Amy and Beth would have none of it.” She didn’t mention she hadn’t ridden since she was fourteen.
“You can probably get around on horseback. I’ll tie a bag of bandages, antiseptic, and water to the saddle horn of my gelding. Just watch out for live power lines. Don’t even try to step over them.” Jonas marched off toward the barn.
Emily shook her head. “It’s settled then, but be careful. You might not think your life worth much at the moment, but I care very much about you…and so does Sally and your family.” She wrapped her arms around Nora in a brief hug, grabbed the last of the supplies, and vanished out the door.
The Gingerichs left home within ten minutes to be of service to their community. Jonas had tied his gelding, saddled and supplied, to the porch rail. Nora followed soon after wearing a backpack stuffed with as much food as it would hold. If the tornado taught her anything, she realized her self-centeredness must stop. She would strive to be more like Emily. The sun would no longer rise and set according to the whims of Nora King.
Her romantic future seemed of little importance as she viewed collapsed houses, damaged barns, and destroyed cars. She prayed for each family she saw as they dug through rubble looking for keepsakes. She prayed every time an ambulance sped by, taking the injured to hospitals in Columbia. And she prayed at the demolished home sites, where no one stirred and nothing remained, that the inhabitants had reached shelters before the tornado hit.
Two hours later, as she passed Gingerich Lumber, she spotted a “Help Wanted” sign in the window. Odder still, that the front window was still intact. Was the notice for Elam’s position or Lewis’s? She hoped both men would find peace and happiness. Nora stopped only twice more to water the horse from farm ponds before reaching Josh’s lane. Remnants of Violet’s buggy and shreds of her lap quilt littered the ground where they had tied up yesterday. Violet—what an amazing woman to walk as far as she had without complaining. When Nora rode by Josh’s house—untouched by the twister—she prayed for Seth, Violet’s beau. The answer to that particular prayer appeared around the next bend in the road.
Seth Yoder stood on scaffolding among the rafters of his family’s home with at least four other Amish men. They were replacing a missing roof, while a half dozen more workers handed up materials from ground level. Seth recognized Nora before she could slide gracefully from the horse.
“Wow, look at that! Nora has transformed herself into Annie Oakley of the Wild, Wild West.” Seth waved his hat as though enjoying a summer picnic instead of repairing his family’s roofless house. “Have you come to help us, Miss King? Or bring word of my dear, sweet Violet?”
Nora laughed, drawing as near as she dared with the piles of ruined materials. “She’s fine. The walk did her legs a world of good. Good luck ever getting her back into a wheelchair. How is your family, Seth?” She peered up at the men on the scaffold. The sight of one tall, powerfully built man nailing plywood made her heart clench inside her chest. Lewis—alive and unhurt. Danki, Lord.
“We’re all fine. My brother spotted the twister early enough for everyone to get to the cellar. Our house lost its roof but the important building—the horse barn—dodged the bullet. No damage, and not one animal as much as tangled their mane or tail with twigs.” He laughed from the belly. “Want to climb up the ladder? Or should I send Lewis down there? I suppose you two are glad to see each other.”
Nora felt faint, and it had nothing to do with the head concussion.
Lewis finished nailing his piece of plywood and stood, meeting her gaze at last. She shielded her eyes from the glare and stared back, willing herself not to cry. Slipping his hammer into a loop on his tool belt, he scrambled down the ladder, his expression unreadable. It took some time to reach her side with the broken beams and shingles strewn across the yard.
“Hello, Nora. We were glad to hear you and Violet got home safely. I hope that gash on your head doesn’t trigger more migraines.” His tone couldn’t be more lackadaisical.
“You heard about our walk? How could you possibly?” she croaked.
“Seth called Violet’s sister on her cell phone this morning. Kathryn reported the ordeal you two had.” He crossed his arms, looming large over her. “Why did you come here, on horseback, no less?” Now he sounded irritated.
“I…I had to know you were alive and well.”
“I am. Fit as a fiddle.”
“I passed Gingerich Lumber. It suffered damage, but it’s not a total loss.”
“Gut.” One word couldn’t possibly sound more unemotional.
“I saw the ‘Help Wanted’ sign and figured it might be for your position. Tell me, Lewis, why are you leaving?”
His eyes practically bulged from their sockets. “Must I spell it out for you?” he snapped, heedless of who might overhear. “Because I’m in love with someone who is not in love with me.”
“I am in love with you,” she snapped back. “That’s the other reason I came. But I was ashamed of myself and afraid to tell you what kind of person I am.” She spoke low but clear, to make sure he understood.
He glanced around the Yoder yard. Every pair of eyes was focused on them. “Let’s talk by the barn. Your horse can probably use a bucket of oats anyway.”
Nora stayed silent until the gelding was drinking deeply at the water trough. “I’ve done things in the past that I regret, things difficult to confess.”
“I take it you lost your virtue to Elam?”
“Nein…not to him. I…I lost it in Pennsylvania to a boy I thought loved me. But his affections were false, and he soon started courting someone else.” She stared at the ground. “I never felt toward him what I feel toward you.”
“And you couldn’t admit this to me?”
“I thought…I thought you would despise me if I did.”
He lifted her chin with one finger. “How could I despise you for something that happened before we met?”
She shrugged her shoulders, while her world hung by a slender thread.
“Well, I couldn’t. That’s the long and short of it. Now, I’ll ask you one more question, Nora King, and I strongly suggest you tell the truth.”
Gazing up at him, she nodded because her emotions made speech difficult.
“Do you love me?”
“I do, Lewis. I have. And I always will, without a shadow of a doubt.” Nora held her breath.
He rubbed his jawline. “Well then, we’ll never bring this matter up again. It’s water under the bridge, and it don’t make no never mind to me.”
“What?”
“I heard an Englischer say that yesterday and I liked it. It must be a Missouri expression. I never thought I’d be able to use it so soon.” He winked one of his light blue eyes.
“Oh, Lewis.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, not caring who saw them. “I’m glad I caught you before you left.”
“Why’s that?” He stroked the back of her kapp, just below the location of the bandage.
“Because I sure wouldn’t want to ride that horse all the way back to Maine.”
Emily and Jonas drove down Township 116 about a mile and a half to the west before the route became impassable by buggy. Each farm they passed showed signs of repairs under way. People waved from porches, barns, house roofs, or fields. The wind had tossed every kind of junk across pastures and croplands. Even if a crop could be salvaged, countless amounts of debris must be picked out before harvesttime. The only traffic on the road passed by in large pickups with big knobby tires, capable of off-road detours. Each single driver stopped to ask if they wanted a ride or needed food or water.
“People keep offering us assistance instead of us providing help to other
s,” moaned Emily, wiping her forehead with a hanky.
“Our turn may come yet,” said Jonas. He pulled the buggy off the pavement under a shady tree, one of the few left undamaged. An unluckier tree, with roots dry and dying, lay across the road ahead. “We can go no farther.” He pulled a tablet and black marker from his duffle bag and began to write.
“What are you making?”
“A sign to hang on the buggy so everyone knows it’s mine and not abandoned. We’ll take the horse with us. I’ll tie whatever supplies we brought to his back. With your mare still at Minister Trask’s house and Nora riding my gelding, I’m running low on horseflesh. I can’t afford to give this one up too.”
“You’re one smart man, Jonas Gingerich, turning a registered Standardbred into a pack mule. What if some of his horse friends see him?”
“We can find him a hat and dark glasses.” They shared a laugh while loading whatever they could onto the animal. Emily slung the first aid kit over her shoulder, and they soon circled around the fallen tree. As they journeyed in the hot summer sun, Emily wished she’d remembered her sunglasses. Jonas checked at each house to make sure anyone needing medical treatment had already been transported. The uninjured people stood around in a daze, unsure where to begin salvaging useable bits and pieces of their lives. After another half mile, Emily stumbled over a branch and fell to one knee, ripping her skirt.
“I suppose now you’ll expect a new dress?” teased Jonas, helping her to her feet.
“It can wait a month or two.” Emily rolled her eyes. “But I don’t see what use we can be down here. The sheriff’s department and medical workers have checked these homes and farms for injuries. We might be wasting our time and shoe leather.” She halted finally aware he stopped ten feet back. “What is it, ehemann?” she asked, returning to his side.
“We almost walked right by this place without noticing. And we’re on foot.”
