A Wedding for Julia

by Vannetta Chapman

  The woman who had complimented her apple-cinnamon pie, Frances, had been there with her back pressed against the wall. She hadn’t even hesitated. While her friend Terra had held up a small flashlight she’d fished from her purse, Frances had pulled the pieces of glass free and bound the wound with some of the cloths.

  “You’ll need stitches soon,” she’d cautioned. Frances was older, her skin a warm brown from days in the sun or possibly from her ethnic heritage. She was also as thin as a willow; whereas Terra was more solidly built. Both women seemed unharmed but rattled by what they had been through.

  Julia wasn’t sure about the stitches. She’d never had stitches before and hoped the bleeding would stop soon on its own. “Danki, for your help. We should check on the others.”

  They moved in a sort of circle around the room. Frances and Terra worked their way around the right side of the basement while Julia had moved around the left. The makeshift bandage had staunched the bleeding of her wound at first.

  Staring across the candlelit basement into her mother’s eyes, Julia knew she would need to seek Frances out again soon. The wrapping was too wet, the bleeding increasing. But for now, she was caught up in her mother’s memories, and it felt so good to sit and rest.

  “He was angry,” Ada said. “Your dat was always a peaceful man, but he was young then and not yet given over to gelassenheit.”

  Inquiring eyes turned to her, but Julia didn’t know how to explain such a cornerstone of their faith, of their lives. So instead she shrugged. “I was young and afraid he was angry with me.”

  She glanced at the stairs, as if she might see her father walking down them, walking toward her as he had that evening.

  “I remember flying through the air, into your arms, just before he screamed. Then there was the noise like a train. It was similar to what we all heard earlier.”

  “A tornado hit here before?” Wess asked.

  “Nein.” Ada turned the bottle of water in her hands. “He shields all who take refuge in Him.”

  Julia noticed a few people look to each other in confusion, but she could no more explain Ada and her Psalms to them than she could explain gelassenheit.

  “You can see the historical clippings at the library. The tornado skirted our area that July day—hovering, it seemed—and then moving past. Dat slammed the lock shut and came down the stairs, not saying a word. When he put his arms around us, I knew.” Julia closed her eyes, remembering the touch and smell of her father, remembering his presence.

  She had felt his loss almost daily since that cold March morning when she’d stood at his graveside next to her mother. Somehow though, sitting in the basement with blood running down her arm and the world above in chaos, she no longer missed her father.

  How could she miss him when his presence was so strong? How could she miss what wasn’t gone?

  “What did you know?” Victoria asked.

  Julia opened her eyes, reached forward, and tucked the girl’s hair behind her ears. “I knew he wasn’t angry with me, but with the storm—with what he couldn’t control. And I knew I was safe in my father’s arms.”

  A silence settled over the room as the truth of Julia’s words sank into their hearts.

  “You said you sheltered here two times.” Brad glanced back toward the windows. “The first time there was a tornado—”

  “Ya, that one only skirted the area.” Ada took another sip of water. “St. Croix and Dunn took a direct hit.”

  “And the second time?”

  Julia answered. “I was nine and remember those details better. We all sheltered, dat threw the bolt as before, but the tornado didn’t appear here in Pebble Creek.”

  “One soul was called home—in Waukesha.” Ada’s voice was low, and her eyes were closed.

  “Should we get her up and try to walk her around a little?” Sharon asked.

  Julia looked to Frances, who shook her head.

  “Let her rest for fifteen minutes. Then wake her and be sure she can answer questions such as her name, who you are, and where she lives. Keep doing that every quarter hour.”

  Julia stood and motioned for some of the adults to follow her into a corner by the stairwell.

  “Your arm looks bad, Julia.” Tim was the first to speak.

  “I’ll have Frances look at it again in a minute. I thought we should speak of our situation. We have enough food and water to make it several days.”

  “Days?” Brad’s eyes bulged. “You think we might be down here for days?”

  “Listen to the storm.” Julia watched their faces as understanding dawned on each one. The wind continued to howl outside their sanctuary, but now there was a muted heaviness to it. “The rain turned to snow half an hour ago. We can’t go out by the stairs because the door won’t open. The windows are blocked by fallen limbs and possibly other debris as well.”

  “I’m not sure staying here is the wisest course.” Brad shook his head.

  “Outside in a blizzard at night would be worse. It’s completely dark out there now. I don’t know why. It’s too early for evening, but I can’t even make out the limbs outside the window anymore.” Tim glanced around at their group. “Let’s set up a makeshift bathroom in the corner. Brad and I can hang a curtain around it.”

  “Frances and I can find food to distribute.” Julia moved to the shelves against the wall.

  “I can help with that.” Terra moved forward. “Let Frances see to your arm now.”

  “I’ll help as well.” Jeanette had left her children and Bandit with Wess and Sharon.

  Julia nodded. She was feeling lightheaded suddenly and reached out to rest her good arm against the wall nearest her. “Look along those shelves. There’s plenty to eat that wasn’t broken.

  Tim ran his hand up and over the top of his head. “After we see to the bathroom, we’ll search for items to make pallets for sleeping. It would be better to keep folks off the cold floor as much as possible.”

  “We should remind people to only check their phones periodically.” Brad scrubbed a hand over his face. “Best to save the batteries.”

  “Agreed.” Tim reached out and stopped Julia as she moved away. “Caleb’s all right. He would have sheltered in the barn.”

  She couldn’t speak past the lump in her throat, so she only nodded.

  “And at first light, I’ll prove it to you. Whatever I have to climb through, I will find a way out of here.”

  Caleb crouched in the semidarkness at the back of the barn. The few gas lanterns he’d found cast a comforting glow throughout the half of the barn they were huddled in—the half that hadn’t been crushed by the tornado. The front half was now impassable. No one was leaving in that direction.

  The front entrance to the barn simply didn’t exist anymore. It was a mass of wreckage—lumber, trees, and debris. Fortunately, the rubble had at least sealed out the storm on that end.

  And while they should be able to go out through the back, a snow bank was fast building up against the loading bay doors. Every hour he faced the blizzard with two other men and shoveled the accumulating drift away from their only exit. They hadn’t dared to travel far from those loading doors, though. The temperature had dropped below zero, the wind was howling, and snow was still falling at a dangerous rate.

  No one’s cell phone was working.

  As much as it pained him, they had all agreed it was best to stay put until morning. To go outside into the storm, especially after the damage the tornado had caused, would only invite more injuries.

  He had to trust that Julia, Ada, and Sharon were safe.

  What help would he be to them if he survived the tornado only to become lost and freeze to death in the blizzard? No. It was best to wait and pray and help those who were trapped with him.

  At the moment he had his hands full calming Aaron, who sat propped up against one of the horse stalls.

  “You’re sure it’s broken? Because I think I can walk on it. I can at least ride if you’ll help me up on P
atches. If you’ll saddle him, I could take—”

  “You know as well as I do the gelding won’t make it half a mile in this storm.” Caleb understood his friend would walk home if that were the only way to check on his family. From the expression on his face, he knew Aaron would like to try, but he also knew that leaving tonight just wasn’t possible.

  Brenda Stiles, an older black woman with short hair, shook her head and pointed a finger at his leg. “Trust me. It’s broken. I’ve splinted it, but you won’t be able to walk on it until you see a physician and have it set properly. Even then you’ll need to use crutches until it heals.”

  Aaron made a sound which resembled a growl.

  Brenda looked unfazed. “I’m used to working with babies. It’s been a while since I had a full-sized patient who could argue with me.”

  “We’re grateful to have a doctor here,” Caleb said. “Gotte sent you to us.”

  “I thought He was sending me on vacation, but maybe you’re right.” Brenda shook her head. “It’s amazing we don’t have more injuries. I think that tornado was an F3. Maybe an F4.”

  Aaron struggled to sit up straighter. “I have to go home. My wife is expecting our first boppli. I’ve heard that things like big storms can cause women to go into labor.”

  “Is she alone?” Brenda asked.

  “Nein. Her mother will be with her, but—”

  “And has her mother ever attended a birth before?”

  “Yes, of course, but—”

  “Don’t Amish often give birth at home?”

  “Lydia was planning to have her child at home,” Caleb explained. “Not in the basement, but at home. And her mamm, Ella, has assisted in several births just since I have been here.”

  “Is she near term?”

  “Yes. That’s why she wasn’t here at the cabins today.” Aaron sank against the stall’s wall, defeated.

  “I know you want to be with her.” Caleb rubbed his hand over the top of his head and through his hair, and came away with leaves. “You don’t even know that the babe is coming, but if it is, then this is the day the Lord appointed, Aaron. Don’t you think I want to be with Julia? She’s only across Pebble Creek—”

  “Which is probably raging now.”

  “No doubt. We must trust in Gotte. If our faith can’t see us through tonight, if it can’t see us through the worst of times, then what gut is it?”

  Aaron pulled at his beard, but he finally nodded and accepted the cup of water handed to him by one of the guests. Fortunately, most of the supplies in the barn had been stored against the back wall in case of just such an emergency. They had blankets, a few lanterns, some food, and plenty of water.

  Caleb turned back to Brenda. “How’s the little girl with the hurt foot?”

  “Her name is Darby, and she’ll need a tetanus shot, but she’ll be okay. Most fatalities during a tornado are caused by flying debris.”

  Aaron stared at her. “Are you sure you haven’t been hit by something, Doc? Maybe it rustled around the facts in your head a bit. I always thought it was the getting sucked up in the air and slammed back down that did you in.”

  Brenda patted his arm. “It happens, yes. But debris is more likely to harm people. You two did a good thing moving everyone in here. I was just driving up in my car when I saw the group running toward the barn. It was a smart thing to do.”

  Shaking his head, Aaron stared down at the barn floor.

  “She’s fine,” Caleb assured him. “Your house has a cellar, as does Ella and Menno’s. If the homes are gone we will rebuild, but your family is safe underground.”

  When Brenda glanced from one to the other, Caleb explained, “His wife’s family lives next door, and his father-in-law has been very ill. I’m sure they would have gathered together as soon as the weather changed.”

  “Ah. Then we’ll pray for all of their safety. If your wife is as practical as you are, I’m sure she headed downstairs early.”

  It was the first thing anyone had said that caused Aaron to smile. “Lydia’s as sensible as they come. When we first met, she was in charge of these cabins.”

  Brenda looked surprised. “An Amish businesswoman? Now there’s someone I’d like to meet.”

  “She would have checked you into your cabin, but I insisted she stay home today.”

  “And maybe that was a gut thing too. At your home she’s in the safety and warmth of a basement rather than this smelly barn.” Caleb stood and stretched. “Think I’ll make the rounds and check on everyone again.”

  As he walked past the horse stalls, which miraculously had remained intact, he couldn’t help feeling a pull toward Aaron’s gelding. The horse might make it through the storm, not with the younger man riding, but if he were to take it out. He might be able to make it down the road to check on Julia.

  First he needed to check the weather. He needed to see if the snow had let up any.

  He walked to the end of the barn, which wasn’t that far now that the front portion had collapsed. Two of the Englischers waited near the bay doors. One was Rupert and another was Eddie—Caleb was having the hardest time telling them apart. It seemed all Englischers looked the same, though he knew that wasn’t true. Probably he was just tired.

  He didn’t mention his hopes to ride home as they pushed against the doors to open them. Which turned out to be a good thing, because his hopes faded more quickly than water passed through his fingers when he reached a hand down into Pebble Creek.

  At first it seemed perhaps something had fallen in front of the doors.

  “It’s only been thirty minutes,” Rupert muttered. Or was it Eddie?

  “Might need to change our snow patrols to every twenty minutes, Eddie.” Rupert stopped pushing and dropped to his knees. He was a big man, with a large stomach, but Caleb didn’t doubt that he could put all of his weight behind what they were trying to do. “I’m going to push from the bottom while you lean into the middle of the door.”

  “I’ve got the top,” Caleb said, catching on to what Rupert had in mind. Now he had them straight. Eddie was thinner and bobbed his head in agreement a lot. Rupert would have made a good farmer with his size and his practical ways. Caleb had heard him mention to someone that he worked on computers and had come to the cabins with his wife so they could experience nature.

  “On three.” Caleb feared it wouldn’t work, but slowly the door gave an inch. By the time there was enough space to squeeze through, they were all out of breath and slapping each other on the back.

  “How did it get so high so fast?” Eddie stood in the small hole they’d made from pushing the door out. The snow had completely encapsulated the loading area of the barn. “I don’t understand this at all. First the warm weather, then day turned to night, the rains came—”

  “Followed by tornadoes,” Rupert reminded him.

  “Yeah. Then hail, snow, and now a blizzard. It sounds like something out of Revelation.”

  “It’s not the end-times, only a bad storm,” Caleb assured him. “It happened here once before, more than a hundred years ago. As far as how the snow has built up, the winds must have shifted. If it wasn’t a blizzard before, it is now.”

  Caleb glanced back into the room, where several of the women, a few older men, and some of the children were watching. “Let’s find some buckets and start a line. We’re going to have to take the snow into the barn until we can clear a path out. Dump it back against the cave-in.”

  The work was exhausting, but somehow it managed to raise everyone’s spirits. Perhaps because they were doing something constructive instead of simply waiting. Maybe because they were working together. Caleb noticed a few smiles as buckets of snow were passed from hand to hand. When they finally broke through, a cheer went up through the group.

  The euphoria didn’t last long.

  Slamming the door shut, they regrouped inside.

  “My iPhone said the temperature is three below zero. Is that a malfunction?” Eddie was staring down at the smal
l screen in disbelief.

  “It’s probably right. The storm of nineteen eleven did the same thing—” Caleb noticed several in the group staring at him. “In that storm the weather was at first unseasonably warm, then the temperature dropped dramatically and was followed by a tornado and then a blizzard.”

  “Will we freeze in here?” A woman from the back pulled her child into the circle of her arms, as if she needed to protect her from instant death.

  “This barn was built to protect livestock in the worst of our winter weather. It will do the same for us.”

  The woman nodded and turned away.

  Caleb discussed a fifteen-minute rotation of snow clearing with Eddie and Rupert. He knew they would be safe in the barn, but he didn’t want their only exit closing up. Come daylight, he wanted to be out and on the road. Emergency personnel would be combing the area looking for survivors. Aaron and the little girl—Darby—needed real medical attention. He wanted to get information about Lydia.

  And one way or another, he would find his way home to Julia.

  Chapter 37

  When Julia woke, the darkness had begun receding from the basement windows. At first she was disoriented, unsure of where she was. It seemed as if her arms were pinned at her side, and she thought maybe it was a dream. If she tried a little harder, she could wake fully.

  Then the pain in her left arm became sharper, and Sharon’s concerned face popped up in front of her.

  “You’re awake. I hope I didn’t bother you. I didn’t mean to, but I was worried. You are sweating even though it’s freezing in here.” There was the sound of a cloth being dipped into water, and then Julia felt the sweet relief of coolness across her forehead, down her cheeks, and across her neck.

  “What—” her voice was a croak.

  “Try to swallow some of this.” Jeanette was on her other side, lifting up her head and pressing a bottle of water to her lips.

  “What happened?” Julia’s eyes adjusted to the small amount of light coming through the high windows. She was able to make out the huddled forms sleeping around her, and Tim standing a few feet away. “Where—”