by Lyn Cote
With the baby on one arm, Cecy felt on top of the coarse blanket again until she found Linc’s hand underneath. Carefully she covered his hand with hers, the blanket between them.
How had they survived the day? The fear she’d lived with for ten days since she had awakened blind had been crushing, oppressive. But today, her terror had grown to monstrous proportions. Now she leaned her head on the hardwood frame and canvas of the cot. “Linc, can you hear me?” No answer. Only voices outside. A dog barked. A baby cried out. A little girl yelled, “I want my mama!”
The baby whimpered. Cecy let go of Linc’s hand. The baby’s cheek was wet with tears. “You’ll be all right.” But then she recalled that the baby was perhaps an orphan now. She knew the pain of estrangement, abandonment, loneliness. “Don’t worry, little one. I’ll never let you be lonely.” She kissed the tiny palm, counting the chubby little fingers. But how could I take care of a child? I’m blind. She couldn’t even take care of herself.
Linc moaned in his sleep. What had that woman meant when she said there wasn’t enough morphine? Linc, please sleep. Don’t wake to pain. What if the nurse didn’t come? What if he needed something and she didn’t know what do? What if he died tonight? Tears coursed down her face.
The canvas flap swished. “Is that you Kai Lin?”
“Yes.” A piece of bread was pressed into one of Cecy’s hands and a cup of coffee in the other.
Cecy drank the coffee and forced down the bread, hearing the baby nurse again. Cecy sensed Kai Lin sitting very close. After eating, Cecy kept one hand on Linc. He lay very still. That worried her. He moaned and that worried her. I don’t know what do. I do love you, Linc. Why I didn’t see it…?
Tense and unchanging hours crawled by. She touched Linc’s fevered forehead. The day had stripped her raw. She clutched the blanket around her.
A deep groan shuddered beneath her. A tremor. She screamed. The aftershock rocked on, startling the camp. She and Kai Lin clung to each other, Linc, and the baby. Finally the earth settled again. But the hysteria outside their tent clamored on. Too many souls pushed beyond their limits. Each noise shivered through her, rasping her nerves, stirring fresh panic.
From outside, over all the chaos, came the sound of one forceful baritone voice singing, “Rock of ages, cleft for me, let me hide myself in Thee.” He sang the opening phrase again and again until the outcry around calmed, stilled. Then he sang on, “Let the water and the blood, From thy riven side which flowed…” Voices, then more and more joined the chorus, “Could my tears forever flow…All for sin could not atone…” Cecy pressed her hands to her breast holding back loneliness, paralyzing fear. I’m alone. Linc may die.
The song around them swelled louder and deepened with emotions. “Lord, Thou must save, and Thou alone….” Mother, Nana, Meg did they need help?
“Nothing in my hand I bring, simply to Thy cross I cling…Rock of ages, cleft for me…let me hide myself in Thee.”
Her teeth chattering, Cecy felt Kai Lin move against her side. “I’m so afraid, Kai Lin.”
Kai Lin spoke next her ear, “Earthquake and fire take everything from Kai Lin, not just baby, family, husband, everyone.”
Cecy leaned her face closer until it rested against the woman’s soft cheek. “Oh, Kai Lin.”
“Lord give, Lord take away. Nothing we can do. But pray.” The simple words did not hide the woman’s raw pain.
Their heads touching, Cecy felt their falling tears mingle. “I’ve not prayed for a long time. Not since I was little girl.” When I prayed to stay with Mama, Nana.
“I pray. God, help us.”
Outside, the hymn ended. The camp stilled at last.
A lone woman’s voice began to recite the words, the good words which bound Cecy to Nana, to Meg. “The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want.” Again more voices joined in. “He maketh me to lie down in green pastures. He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul.” Soon, the words of the psalm swelled until the prayer surrounded their tent.
As she listened to Kai Lin saying the psalm in her own tongue, Cecy silently mouthed the blessed words that Nana had taught her, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil…” Today, death had prowled all around her. Even blind, she’d sensed it as though she crept through a dark forest alive with deadly peril.
The psalm outside ended with heartfelt Amens. She heard other women weeping. How many women tonight would keep vigil over loved ones? Grief surrounded her, permeated her. Inside, she could only say, “Dear God. Dear God.”
She was praying. The shock of this realization dazzled her like a blazing illumination she experienced even without sight. She heard again Linc’s voice, “Go ahead and shoot me, but I’m not leaving her!” He’d sworn he loved her. In the midst of earthquake, fire, and death, he’d protected and defended her. “How could I have doubted him?” she whispered.
Lord, You brought me home to San Francisco, to my mother, to Nana at last. You gave me Linc who loves me more than his own life. I cannot believe that You will part us now. But even if Linc dies, I’ll know he truly loved me and that shows You love me. Free me, Lord, from my father and my aunt’s hatred. I choose Linc. I choose Your love.
The words uncapped a deep spring of fresh, healing joy that surged through her. All the beautiful music she’d ever heard or sung intertwined, vibrated through her, a mighty chorus of joy, a stirring prelude to new life. Her hands searched the darkness and found Linc’s face. She placed a hand on each of his cheeks. “I love you, Linc.” Tracing her hands lovingly over Linc’s form through the blanket, she kissed Linc’s hand. I love you, dearest of all.
Though she huddled on bare, cold earth in an army blanket with the night chill around her, a warmth grew—not from outside, but from the inside. Love was warming her. She whispered, “My father didn’t win. Heavenly Father, I put my trust in You.”
April 19, 1906
“Cecy?” Linc’s scratchy voice woke Cecy.
Her heart pounding, she moved to her knees and reached for his hand. “We’re at the Presidio garrison. You were shot.” With one hand, she felt her way gently up to his forehead. But his fever hadn’t broken.
“Baby? Children…found?”
“The baby’s fine, but…the children…no, not yet.” Speaking of the children clogged her throat with emotion. She focused on Linc to gain control. She reached toward Kai Lin, who was still slept beside Cecy, and touched her hair. “Is it morning yet, Kai Lin? Please go get us some coffee.”
“I go quick.”
Cecy heard the rustling of the woman leaving the tent.
“Who?” Linc’s voice sounded like a rusty hinge.
She laid her hand on the side of his face. “Kai Lin. She came to nurse the baby. How do you feel?”
“Hurt. Hot.” His voice came out in forced gasps. “Children?”
“I described them to the soldier who shot you. He promised to look for them. We’ll find them.” Cecy pulled a crumpled handkerchief from her pocket and wiped his forehead.
“Fires?” he asked.
“Yes, fires still burning,” Kai Lin’s voice replied. “Here coffee.”
Cecy accepted a cup. “Linc, can you sit up?”
“No,” he moaned.
“I brought spoon. I do it.”
“I feel…weak,” he murmured. “Thanks. So thirsty.”
Cecy listened to Linc sipping and swallowing the coffee. She brought her own cup to her lips. Her hands shook. Maybe today the fires would stop. Maybe today.
Linc asked in his weak voice, “What does it look like outside?”
“Big smoke over San Francisco. Color red over city, show through bad black smoke.”
Cecy asked, suddenly sniffing the air. “Is something burning close by?”
“Tent burn! Look up!” Kai Lin exclaimed.
Reflexively, Cecy did look up.
“Sparks,” Linc said with despair. “Water—quick.”
�
��Isn’t anywhere safe?” Cecy half rose, but Kai Lin pushed the child into Cecy’s arms and ran out.
Soon, Cecy heard men’s loud, hurried voices and footsteps outside the tent. The sound of water being splashed and a faint spray from overhead told her that the sparks were being put out. She gripped Linc’s free hand again.
“The children,” Linc murmured.
“They are in God’s hands.” Saying the words gave her comfort, a new sensation. Cecy closed her eyes and prayed aloud for the thousandth time for Meg, Del, and Susan.
“You…praying?” He squeezed her hand weakly.
“Last night God was all Kai Lin and I had left.” She waited for his reaction.
Cecy felt Linc’s smile. How could that be?
“I love you, Cecy. Thank you, Lord.” Linc’s voice, though thready and weak, sounded confident. “Children…God…send someone.”
Cecy bowed her head until it touched to Linc’s hand. How dear he was to her. He wouldn’t die. The children would be found. Softly she sang the words from an old school hymn, “God has led us safe this far. And He will lead us home.”
The second day passed like a month. The baby, now fed, quieted—even gurgled when Cecy tenderly rocked him in her arms. But Linc’s fever rose. The nurse brought aspirin but to no avail. Using a small basin and cloth, Cecy bathed and bathed Linc’s burning face. Kai Lin continued to douse the tent against showers of sparks.
Explosions punctuated the long hours. Rumors that Nob Hill had been demolished saddened Cecy. Were her servants safe? The remembered image of her mother, Nana, Susan, Meg, Del, and Linc all together in the lush conservatory made her heart ache. I don’t care if I never see again, Lord. I can live with blindness, but I can’t live without my family. The odor of burning flesh came on the wind. She realized parts of the city had become pyres for the dead. Fleur, Clarence, Little Ann—even Victor and Clarissa. Were they safe?
Every once in a while, a woman would wail out in shock and grief. All other voices would fall silent. The wailing would drop into moaning, the other voices would start up again louder, discreetly shielding someone’s grief. Less often came shouts of welcome, of reunion. Loved ones found. Cecy recited the Twenty-third Psalm silently and clung to Linc’s good hand. He lay still, too weak to talk, almost too weak to swallow broth.
April 20, 1906
“Papa! Papa!” Meg’s voice.
Feeling a shock of joy, Cecy sat up from where she’d slumped asleep on the cold ground. She held out her arms.
“Meg, thank God,” Linc’s frail voice spoke in the darkness. “Del? But where is…Susan?”
“Oh, Papa.” Meg began crying and must have bumped the cot. It moved. Linc moaned.
Cecy held her hands over Linc on the cot protectively. “Meg, dear, your father’s shoulder is hurt.” She held out her arms reaching for the child. “Don’t touch his sling.”
Del mumbled, “Grandma died.”
Cecy’s heart hurt.
“How did it happen?” Linc’s feeble voice showed strain.
“We got out of the house,” Meg whimpered. “Then we started walking and then Aunt Susan had to sit down. She couldn’t breathe. We tried to get someone to help—”
“But no one would listen to us,” Del added.
“Then she had to lie down and she couldn’t get up.” Meg began to sob.
Cecy’s searching hands connected with Del’s arm. She pulled him close to her. Susan gone. She hugged Del and whispered her love for him.
“They made us leave her.” Del’s stark words reverberated with raw pain. “They said she was dead. Kang died, too.”
Cecy stroked Del’s moist cheeks and kissed him. “You’re safe now.”
Meg went on tearfully, “They took us away. They said we had to go to Oakland. We ran away. But they found us again—”
“Who?” Linc asked.
“The army,” a man’s voice replied.
Linc looked to the entrance of the tent. He hadn’t noticed the soldier who’d wounded him stood there.
“I found them, sir. They were at Golden Gate Park.”
“Thank you.”
“The fire is dying and it looks like rain.”
Cecy asked, “Have you found out about my mother?”
“Ma’am, from all the information I’ve been able to glean, your mother’s sanitarium wasn’t affected much. She should be okay.”
“Thank you.” A lump of cold dread in her middle dissolved. Mother, Nana are safe. Cecy wept for joy.
The soldier doffed his hat and left without a word. His debt paid in full.
Linc tried to believe what the children said about Aunt Susan, but he couldn’t really take it in. In his memory, the faces of his mother Jessie and Susan captured for one moment in time. They stood side by side on the back porch of the Chicago house before the fire. They were laughing. Oh, Mother, she’s with you now. Linc let his eyes close. “Lord, we commend our beloved Susan to Your care. She has fought the good fight. Bless us. Make us strong again. Heal our pain.”
“Papa?” Meg bent her head and laid her cheek beside his. She pointed to Kai Lin. “Who’s she?”
“She is Kai Lin, our new friend,” Cecy replied, dabbing at her eyes.
Linc glanced at the sad, young Chinese woman who sat on a drab army blanket holding the smiling baby in her slender arms.
“Whose baby?” Del asked.
Cecy found and stroked Del’s curly hair. “The poor child is an orphan. Meg, let me touch you, dear. I need to hold you.”
Linc closed his eyes remembering the mother lying dead. The baby left all alone as the deadly fire had drawn nearer and nearer. Tears slid down the sides of his face. Thank you, God. Over all the noises, Cecy had heard the baby’s cry.
After Meg kissed and hugged Cecy, she drew near the baby. “Can we keep her?”
“It boy baby.” Kai Lin smiled wanly.
Cecy spoke up: “We’ve named him Shadrach because he came through the fire. If we don’t find his family, we’ll adopt him.”
“I’m an orphan now, too.” Del looked close to tears.
“As long as we live, you have family,” Cecy said, reaching out, drawing him close again.
The words were exactly what Linc would have said. He gazed at her.
Sitting on the bare ground, still wearing her driving hat and coat, Cecy smiled. Her beautiful face was smudged with dirt and smoke, her driving coat torn, and her auburn hair bedraggled. So weak he still couldn’t lift his head, he saw clearly Cecy had changed. Her lovely brown sugar eyes had no sight, but she looked at peace, even in the cramped tent.
Drawing a shaky breath, he felt like a flattened flour sack. But they’d made it through the crucible. “We won’t be afraid anymore,” he stated. Speaking took so much energy, but healing words needed to be said. “The six of us are family now. If you agree, Kai Lin?”
The Chinese woman nodded through tears. “We come through fire. We family.”
Linc touched Cecy’s hand. “You know God’s love is true now. Do you believe I love you, too?”
“Oh, yes.” She ran her hands over him till she found his face. She kissed him.
He kissed her in return. Del and Meg knelt on either side of Cecy. She whispered the words that had brought healing and had come true. “Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life. And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. Amen.”
ECHOES OF MERCY
Chapter 1
New Orleans
January 2, 1920
Voices shouted, “Police!” Del reared up in bed. A fist caught him in the eye. The lightbulb dangling from the ceiling exploded into blinding light. Three uniformed policemen crowded Del. One gripped him by the throat. One pointed a gun to his head. One was pawing under his mattress. “Well, look at this.” He waved a thick wad of greenbacks. “And here’s the gun.”
Del gawked. The officer who had Del by the throat dragged him off his bed. Del clawed at the fingers on his neck. Dear God, are
they going to kill me?
Another blow like a brick. Another. Light flashed in front of his eyes. He scrabbled at the fingers around his throat. Pain shot through his head. Blackness.
Cold water doused Del’s face. “Why’d you kill Mitch Kennedy?”
Del ached. His arms were bound behind him to the hard chair he sat on. He shook his head, trying to come to.
“We’re gone get a confession outa you or else. Hear me, boy?” A hard fist crashed into Del’s jaw, bringing an unwelcome memory…Red-orange flames. German shells bursting, reverberating through his bones. He’d fly apart if it didn’t stop!
“Why’d you shoot your boss?” Pain zigzagged through his head and face. The voice faded…
Gabriel St. Clair, New Orleans Parish Attorney, hated the dirty, drab anteroom to the city jail. The prisoner blinked, but his head lolled to the side. “Delman Dubois?” Gabe repeated.
Delman looked up. The sight of the black prisoner’s battered face, one eye swollen shut, lacerated lips, and a swollen jaw, turned Gabe’s stomach. “Rooney, you’ve got to keep your men from roughing up prisoners so badly.”
“He resisted arrest,” Deputy to the Chief of Police Rooney said; his lips twitched in a nasty grin.
“Delman, do you know the charges against you?” Gabe asked.
“No.”
Gabe grimaced. Even a colored deserved to have his charge explained to him and a dog would have been treated better. “You’ve been arrested for the theft of two hundred dollars and the murder of your boss, Mitch Kennedy.”
“Mitch’s dead?” The prisoner licked his lips.
“You know he is.” Rooney reached to strike again.
Gabe caught his arm.
Rooney glared at him, but pulled back.
“Delman, can you afford to hire counsel?”
“Afford a lawyer?” Rooney snorted again. “He’s just a cheap piano player.”
Gabe studied the prisoner. Beating a helpless man made Gabe sick. But what could he do after the fact? And legally, there was so little he could do for this boy. The money and the gun had been found in his room. An easy conviction. Just another cheap, nasty crime in Storyville.
