Rorey's Secret

by Leisha Kelly

  “No,” Dad told him. “Not now. I’m all right. Go help George.” He started scooting toward the back of the truck. I went with him.

  “What about Bert?” Mom asked. “Are you all right, Bert?”

  “Yeah,” he answered her. “It’s just my ankle twisted. But I’m sure glad Mr. Wortham pushed me out. I couldn’t find the door. And I’m awful sorry . . .”

  Mom reached to help Dad as he got to the open back end.

  “Dad,” Robert persisted. “I’m not so sure you oughta be—”

  “Help us inside, Rob,” Dad insisted. “Then hurry back over there. They need you. It’s bad enough that I can’t—”

  “Mom!” Robert protested again.

  “We need the doctor.” “We left word for him to come when he can, to look at the baby,” Dad said, taking a deep breath. “He can see to me and Berty then. You’ve got to help them with the fire.”

  Robert looked to Mom again, and she nodded her head.

  “Help me to a chair, Juli,” Dad said. “Robert, help Bert. Then go. Please.”

  When Dad first got his feet on the ground, he stopped for a minute. I could feel him taking another deep breath. Mom put her arm around him, and he put his arm over her shoulder. I jumped down to his other side.

  “You sure you’re all right, Samuel?” Mom asked.

  He said he was, but I wondered too. At least nothing was broken, or he wouldn’t be standing up. That’s what I figured, anyway.

  But we moved slowly. Dad was walking but kind of leaning on Mom, and that made me worry. Is he okay, God? I thought he was okay.

  Berty tried walking on his own and couldn’t quite manage it, so he ended up leaning on Robert. Emmie took hold of the tail of my blouse and came right alongside us as I heard what sounded like a rumble of thunder off in the distance.

  “This’uns a bad night,” she said softly.

  “Yeah,” I told her. “But just like Dad said, it could’ve been worse.”

  That thought had my stomach in flip-flops. Daddy could’ve died. He very nearly did, or so it had seemed. And Berty could have died too. “Lord have mercy,” Mom had said. He must have had mercy. On Daddy and Bert, for sure.

  But suddenly I couldn’t help wondering what the Lord thought of Rorey if she or Lester Turrey had somehow set that blaze. I wondered what he thought of me too, foolish friend that I was, promising to keep mum at such a horrible cost.

  Forgive me, I whispered, too quiet for anybody to hear.

  Tell your father that, something strange and ugly in my head jumped right back at me. He’s not okay. And it’s all your fault.

  7

  Julia

  Samuel was doing his best, not wanting any of us to worry, I could tell that. But I could also tell that he was weakened, and he wasn’t bearing full weight on one leg.

  I was glad for Delores to meet us on the porch as we were coming up the steps. “Oh, Lordy be,” she said. “Goodness gracious.” But that was all she said. She held the door for us and then hurried to turn around the nearest kitchen chair for us to set him in. Then she quick got a chair for Berty too.

  “What’s happened?” Thelma called out, coming into the kitchen with baby Rosemary in her arms.

  “Just what are you doin’ up?” her mother demanded.

  “Was it the house?” Thelma kept on. “Did everybody get out?”

  “The barn,” Samuel managed to say. “They’re all right.”

  “Imey’s lost,” Bert said sadly.

  “Oh, Berty,” Thelma answered him. “Better the calf than one of you all.”

  The room seemed almost chaotic then, with Thelma trying to comfort Berty, and Delores trying to shoo her back to the bedroom and look at Berty’s ankle at the same time. Sarah and Emma Grace got up close as I was trying to check Samuel over, and then Katie came from upstairs looking dreadful worried.

  “Is Georgie asleep?” I asked her.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Bring in fresh water and set some on to heat, will you please?”

  Katie went running out, and I remembered Robert still standing in the doorway, just looking at us all. “How bad is the fire?” I asked him.

  “Spreading, Mom. Looked like it might take the field.”

  “Go!” Samuel demanded. “Go help them!”

  For just a moment our son hesitated, and then with another glance at me he turned and disappeared. “Thank you, Robby!” I called after him. “Please be careful!”

  I looked down at Samuel. “He’s just worried about you.”

  Samuel shook his head. “Can’t take time for that. I ought to be over there—”

  “No. You ought to be lying down. Can I move you to the bed?”

  He shook his head again. “Thelma,” he said. And I knew what he meant. We’d given Thelma and the newborn our room for the night.

  “Go ahead and put him in there,” Thelma said quickly. “I’m gonna rock the baby, and I can do that in the sitting room. Then we can just stay there, on your davenport. But can I be helping first?”

  “No. Not tonight,” her mother answered. “Go set yourself down. Go on.”

  Katie was back in before long, wiping at tears with one arm and carrying a bucket with the other. She put the water on without asking any questions, and I turned my eyes to little Emma Grace standing there watching me.

  “Sarah, take Emmie to your room and see if you can get her to sleep up there with Georgie.”

  “I don’ wanna sleep,” the little girl protested.

  “It’s night,” I told her. “Time for you to be asleep. Don’t you worry. Everybody’ll be all right.”

  Sarah didn’t want to go either, I knew that. She was standing about as close to her father as she could get. But she was good to mind me and take the little girl upstairs. And almost immediately I was glad that they were gone, because Samuel was looking paler.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” I asked him again.

  “Yeah,” he said, but his voice sounded kind of strange. He took another deep breath, and it seemed to take extra effort.

  “Samuel, you have to tell me what’s wrong. Where do you hurt?” I knelt beside him and put my arm around his shoulder, feeling my heart suddenly pounding faster. What was it Robert had said? That he hadn’t been awake? I should’ve paid him more attention. That could mean a head injury. Robert was right to worry, if that was the case.

  Samuel reached his hand to me. “Juli—it’s going to be okay.”

  “Does it hurt you to breathe?”

  “Some. I’m just bruised, that’s all.”

  Katie was standing there by the stove looking at us. I felt bad to have all the kids scared like this, but nothing could be done about it. “Help me get him to the bed,” I asked her, and she came running to my side. Maybe we shouldn’t have sent Robert on. The Hammonds certainly needed help, far more help than they had, with the fire going wild, but it might have been better to send Robert looking for the doctor. Now we were left without the truck.

  “I’m all right,” Samuel said again. Katie got on one side of him, and with me on the other we helped him out of the chair. But it was slow progress to the bed. Despite what he said, he seemed weaker than before.

  We finally got him settled down, and Katie hurried to light the lamp and the pair of candles sitting on the dresser. Then she was right back at our side.

  “Samuel?” I said. “Tell me everywhere you hurt.”

  “My head.”

  Those simple words made me feel sick to my stomach. “Is that the worst?”

  He was quiet for a moment. “Yeah.”

  I thought back to the time, several years ago, when he’d fallen through the pond ice and struck his head on one of the wooden beams that served as a dock. He’d been unconscious then too. Quite a while. But he’d come around and been all right. I wondered if it mattered with a head injury that there had been another one some time before. Lord, help.

  “Where else?” I pushed him. “Samuel, I’ve got
to do what I can. I’ve got to know.”

  He nodded. Slowly. “My side,” he said, seeming to have trouble getting the words out. “My leg.”

  Looking down at my husband, I wondered where I should look first. He was so filthy with soot that I wasn’t sure I could even find anything.

  “Katie, bring me some water and a cloth.”

  She went, but maybe I shouldn’t have sent her out so soon. She looked scared, worse than Robert, seeing all this. And we weren’t even taking the time to give her a word of comfort.

  Samuel moved his right arm against his side. “Juli, I’m sorry,” he said so softly.

  “Stop,” I told him. “You have nothing to be sorry about. Do you hear? You saved that boy’s life.”

  I kissed his smudged cheek, unable to stop a sudden rush of tears. “Close your eyes and rest. Please, Samuel. We need you better.”

  “Is Bert all right?”

  For a brief, awful moment, I wondered if he didn’t remember Berty coming in the house with us, and before that telling us it was only his ankle that was hurt. But I decided Samuel was surely just looking for an assurance that Berty was being taken care of too. “Yes, honey. Delores is seeing about his ankle. He’ll be just fine. Thank God you got him out.”

  He seemed to relax a little. Katie came rushing back with a bowl in her hands and a couple of towels over her arm. I started washing Samuel’s face just as gently as I could.

  “His leg is bleeding, Mom.”

  Katie’s words, so quietly spoken, jarred me nonetheless. Why hadn’t I noticed?

  I examined the leg more closely. It didn’t look to be bad. But I couldn’t tell for sure. I had to get my sewing scissors and cut some of the trouser out of the way to get a look. He had a gash, bleeding slowly, with plenty of blood drying around it.

  “Oh, Samuel.” I knew that leg would need attention, but I was more worried about his head. I grabbed one of the towels and wrapped it around the leg wound. “Hold this, Katie,” I said. “Keep it nice and tight.”

  She nodded and obeyed me stiffly. “Is he gonna be all right?”

  “Yes,” I told her. “Say a prayer, but don’t you worry.” I knew she was terrified. Sarah too. And Emmie, the poor child. I reached my arm over Katie’s shoulder for a quick squeeze. Robert was scared too, I knew, and right in the middle of everything. Lord, bless him. He’s having to be such a man tonight. Keep him safe.

  “Samuel, I need to see your head,” I told him, hurrying to the business at hand. “I may lift it just a little, so I can feel the back. You just stay relaxed, and let me do it, all right? Don’t try to move.”

  He was still. He didn’t answer me a word, but his eyes were open, watching. Katie had tears trailing down her cheeks, but she was doing what I told her, holding that towel tight against his leg. I picked up the bowl of water again. I knew it wasn’t very warm. What Katie’d put on to heat hadn’t had time to get hot. But the cool would probably feel good on his head. I hoped so.

  Something had hit him; that was clear to me. On the back of his head I felt quite a lump beneath a small but jagged cut with dried blood caked over it. A wonder he hadn’t bled more.

  I wished the doctor were here already to ask about this. But it worried me, knowing there was very little even a doctor could do for a head injury. Dr. Howell had told us that before. I began to pray that nothing was serious, and nothing broken.

  “How do you feel now?”

  “Sore.”

  I kissed him again, remembering his tender caress of such a short time ago. Lord, help him. Heal him quickly.

  I let Kate bathe his forehead for a minute, which Samuel seemed to welcome.

  I could hear Delores in the kitchen talking, probably to Bert, but I couldn’t quite make out what she was saying.

  “Let me see your side,” I said, carefully unbuttoning Samuel’s shirt. But I couldn’t see any injury there. I couldn’t feel anything either, but my touch hurt him. I could tell, even though he didn’t say so.

  Feeling numb, I went to get another cloth and bowl. Delores looked up as I entered the kitchen. “How is he?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  She was setting Bert’s foot down to soak in a mixing bowl full of water. She glanced up at me again with concern on her face. “Do you need to sit down for a minute?”

  “No. No, not at all. There’s too much to do.” I grabbed a clean cloth, scooped some water out of the kettle into another bowl, and then threw a kitchen towel over my shoulder. “How’s Thelma?”

  “Still rockin’ the baby. Don’t you worry ’bout her. She’s got a strong constitution about her, that one. She’ll be fine bein’ up this soon. And I’ll see that she don’t overdo.”

  I nodded. It was all I could manage before hurrying back into the bedroom. Samuel’s eyes were closed. That bothered me at first, even though I’d told him to rest. What if he was unconscious? What if something was seriously wrong?

  But he opened his eyes as I neared the bed. “Juli, all of you need to get some sleep.”

  “There’s no way we can sleep with you and Berty hurt! And that fire going on. We’re not even half started cleaning you up.”

  “I should be helping,” he said. His voice sounded weak.

  “I don’t want to hear such nonsense. The only way you’re to help is to stay still while I see to you. I want to get your shirt all the way off and wash you up and see if there’s anywhere else—”

  “I love you.” His words were quick and soft, stopping me in midsentence.

  I just stared, wishing I could hold him till forever and make all the hurt go away. “Oh, Sammy, I love you too. I’m so glad you’re all right.”

  As soon as I said it, the cruel doubts started beating my insides. Was he all right? I’d once heard about a man who’d been hit with a chunk of rock inside a cave. He thought he was fine. Everybody thought he was fine. He just went home, and the next day they found him dead in his bed.

  I couldn’t say anything else. And Samuel didn’t either. He closed his eyes again as I bathed the back of his head. Katie went to get fresh water and came back as I was taking the towel off his leg.

  “Can you get his boots off for me, Katie?”

  She nodded, looking grim. “Do they know how the fire started?”

  “I don’t know, honey. I doubt it.”

  “It’s so good he isn’t burned.”

  “Yes,” I said, feeling a little sick inside. “Thank God for that.”

  I took the sewing scissors to Samuel’s pant leg again and cut the rest of it completely off from midthigh so I could really see the wound and not have to bandage over or under the dirty denim. Katie struggled with the boots and then brought in another oil lamp from the sitting room. I folded one of the cool cloths and left it against the back of Samuel’s head and then turned my attention again to his leg.

  Once we had the blood cleaned away, I could see that he’d have a lot of bruising on that leg. The gash was at least four inches long, and deep. It would require stitches. And I knew I ought to be putting something on to help it right away.

  “Katie, go and see if the water’s hot. And set out the comfrey and plantain from the cupboard if you can find them.”

  She went out quickly, and I felt over the rest of that leg and the other one. “God’s grace that nothing seems to be broken,” I said.

  Samuel didn’t answer. His head was turned just a little to one side, his eyes still closed. Let him be sleeping, Lord, I prayed. Just let it be a nice, restful sleep.

  But I wasn’t sure how he could sleep at a time like this, any more than I could, if he was really all right. A weight pressed hard against my stomach. What if there was nothing that could be done? What if he didn’t wake up?

  “Mom? How is he?”

  Sarah’s words jarred me. I hadn’t heard her coming down the stairs.

  “It’s all right, honey,” I told her. “He’s resting.”

  I sounded so phony to myself that I wondered if she knew
. But she only stepped closer, looking at her father with cautious eyes.

  “Is Emma Grace asleep?” I asked her.

  “Yes. She didn’t want to, but she was too tired to fight it long.”

  “Thank you, Sarah, for all you did.”

  She looked at me oddly, almost as if my words hurt her. “There wasn’t much I could do, Mom. I hope I never see nothing so scary—never again.”

  She looked closely at her dad’s leg with tears in her eyes, and then up at his face again. “Oh, Mom—” she stopped, not quite able to say anything else. And I was no better.

  Suddenly, Katie called to me from the doorway. “Mom, the water’s warm. Do you want me to set some aside with the herbs in it?”

  “Sarah, help her, will you please? I need two tablespoons of the ground comfrey and plantain both to a quart of water nice and hot. Let it steep about five minutes. And I’ll need some wide strips of clean cloth for bandaging. You can use the torn sheet I saved in the linen drawer. And bring a glass of water for when your father wakes up.”

  I saw the worry on both their faces and was sorry to be so abrupt. “I’m proud of you both,” I added quickly. “You’re being such a help.”

  They disappeared, and I was glad to be alone for a moment with just Samuel and God. “Thank you,” I whispered. “That he’s still with us. Just help him get better.”

  Out in the sitting room I could hear baby Rosemary crying, sweet and delicate. I could hear the voices in the kitchen too, and Whiskers outside barking at some critter. Then, over all that, I heard the rumble of thunder. I hoped that would mean rain. The summer had been so dry that everybody I knew was worried for their harvest. And now a brutal fire! Who knew how much it had already cost. Maybe the sky would pour down rain and stop the fire’s raging before it got any worse.

  It wasn’t two minutes and I heard the patter of raindrops. I was so glad. So relieved. Water from heaven would quench that awful fire. But I couldn’t help thinking that if the rain had only come sooner, if everything had already been dripping wet, maybe there’d have been no fire. And Samuel would never have had to leave my side.

  Soon it was pouring. I took the cloth from Samuel’s head to wet and cool it again. I thought of everyone over at Hammonds’, getting soaked now and surely glad of it. Let it pour! But too much mud would make our dirt roads bad. Too much mud would make it harder for the doctor to get here.