Anna's Healing

by Vannetta Chapman

  “Accident reported. I want you to cover it.”

  “All right.” Chloe picked up her purse and began shutting down her computer. “Any details? Where am I going?”

  “Farming accident.” Eric cleared his throat as he stared down into his coffee cup. “Amish girl. It’s the girl you have been using in your last couple of pieces.”

  “Anna?”

  “Yeah. Anna Schwartz.”

  Chloe sank back down onto her chair. “What happened?”

  “From what I heard on the scanner, there were several sightings of a tornado touching down. Anna was helping with the harvest when it happened. According to the chatter, it must have spooked the horses of the team she was driving.”

  “And she was thrown?”

  “Apparently.” The somber look returned. “I know you’re close to the girl, Chloe. Can you be objective about this? We need to get the details, and if you’re fast enough we can include it in the next edition of the—”

  “I’ll send in something before the five o’clock deadline.”

  “She’s in Tulsa at Oklahoma Surgical Hospital.”

  Why OSH? Why not Saint Francis or OSU Medical Center? Accident victims were often taken to St. John’s as well. Chloe jumped up and then barreled out of her cubicle, but she realized she had left her phone on her desk and turned back. When she brushed past Eric to retrieve it, he put a hand on her shoulder.

  “Get the story. Get the facts. Get out.”

  Chloe wanted to bat his hand away. She wanted to stop and argue with him. More than anything she wanted to ask him what had happened to him along the way. Where had he lost his compassion? When had he forgotten that the people they wrote about were people they lived by, ate with, and shopped with? People they went to school and church with.

  She flew out the door. Her hands trembled when she tried to put her key in the ignition of her car.

  Anna. She was so young. How did this happen? Why did it happen?

  Chloe didn’t spend much time arguing with God. She’d seen and written about enough of the dark side of human nature to understand that some people simply turned bad somewhere along the way, like an apple left in the bottom of a basket too long. If that was a cold perspective, so be it. She’d seen the destruction that such people left in their wake, and it wasn’t a pretty sight.

  No, she didn’t argue with God about those people or the people they hurt. It might be unfair, but the world was a harsh place. Her years on the newspaper staff had taught her that.

  But a farming accident caused by a tornado? Why did things like that happen? And if they had to happen, why not take the bad people instead of the good? People walked around as if life would always proceed as it had the day before, but often it didn’t.

  Because they were a county newspaper, their offices were located on the east side of Tulsa, a fair distance from the downtown area. Making a right out of their parking lot, Chloe accelerated onto 412 West, which would take her downtown. Glancing out the side window, she saw a busload of schoolchildren, laughing and talking. That was when she realized her thoughts were assuming the worst. There were many reasons a med flight may have been called in for Anna. Perhaps it wasn’t as bad as she feared.

  She turned on her radio in time to here an announcer give an emergency update.

  Approximately one hour ago at least two tornadoes touched down in the small community of Cody’s Creek. Multiple sightings report the funnels hopscotched through at least a dozen fields before going back up into the sky and heading east.

  There have been several reports of injuries. Many Amish as well as non-Amish farmers were working outside in their fields at the time of the tornado’s appearance. According to Dereck Hess with Cody’s Creek Emergency Services, all but one of those injuries have been minor.

  Because the storm has moved off to the east, the Shelter-in-Place warning has been lifted. At this point we’ll resume our regular programming, but we will break in the moment we have additional details.

  Chloe pushed her little blue car up to the speed limit. Usually she treated the engine gently. The car was old and needed to last her at least another couple of years, but worrying about the life of her vehicle today seemed trivial. Her friend was injured. Anna was on her way to Tulsa, maybe flying over her right at this moment. She glanced down at her gas gauge—it was on full.

  Eighteen miles. She’d be at the hospital within the half hour.

  CHAPTER 21

  Chloe had met Anna’s aunt twice—the night she’d attended the corn maze festival and the morning she’d picked Anna up so they could go and look at quilts. The woman had seemed pleasant enough, if a bit subdued.

  Today everything had changed.

  As Chloe walked into the surgical waiting room, she understood immediately how serious the situation was.

  Erin sat ramrod straight on the edge of her seat and barely glanced at Chloe when she rushed into the room. From the looks of her, she was still in shock as to what had happened. And where was the rest of Anna’s family? An older Englisch woman was sitting beside Erin, dressed in black slacks and a light-blue blouse, her gray hair cut in a short bob. She was as round as she was tall, and she wore a name tag that said, “Dora Smith, Chaplain.”

  Chloe nodded but didn’t offer her own name. Her attention was completely focused on Anna’s Aunt Erin. “Mrs. Schwartz, I don’t know if you remember me…”

  Erin raised her eyes but didn’t seem to process what Chloe had said.

  “I write for the Mayes County Chronicle, and I’ve been to your farm a couple of times. Anna and I went to—”

  “You went to look at the quilts. Ya. I remember.” The words were spoken softly, as if she were afraid of disturbing someone, but they were the only people in the waiting room.

  “I heard about the tornado. Is… is Anna okay?”

  Instead of answering, Erin covered her face with her hands and began to weep.

  Chloe sat beside her and placed a hand on her back. Glancing over at the chaplain, she asked, “Do you know? How is Anna?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t share any family information, and if you’re asking as a reporter—”

  “No, I’m not. I’m asking as Anna’s friend.” She pulled in her bottom lip and fought against the tears that stung her eyes. “That is to say, my boss sent me here to report on what happened, but I would have come anyway. I’m concerned about her.”

  Erin gained control of her emotions long enough to glance at the chaplain and say, “Tell her. It makes no difference to me. How could it matter? Anna, dear Anna…” and then she dissolved once again into tears.

  “Most of Anna’s injuries were minor…” The chaplain hesitated, ran her hand over the Bible she was holding, and then slowly continued. “She sustained some lacerations and bruises. There’s a possibility she’s suffering from a concussion as well.”

  “What else? I can tell there’s more. Please, I need to know.”

  “The doctors fear she also suffered a spinal fracture. They have ordered X-rays, a CT scan, and an MRI. Anna is having those tests now.”

  A spinal fracture sounded terrible. “They can fix that though, right? They brought her here because it’s a surgical hospital.”

  “I don’t know any more than that.” The woman’s gaze was sympathetic. No doubt she had sat beside many grieving families before. She wasn’t going to offer false hope.

  So they waited.

  Once Dora asked if Erin would like her to pray. When she nodded yes, the chaplain commenced to petition God on Anna’s behalf. It had been years since Chloe had heard an audible prayer. Somewhere along the way she’d simply stopped attending her parents’ church. But she bowed her head and listened respectfully. Perhaps it would calm Erin. Maybe, just maybe, God was listening. She didn’t know what she believed, and suddenly she felt her lack of faith more than ever before.

  Silence again fell across the room, the only sound the ticking of the clock and the occasional echo of someone in padded s
hoes going down a hall.

  Then the double doors across from them opened. A tall, athletic, middle-aged man with brown hair mostly tucked under a surgical cap walked into the room. Actually, he looked younger than that, possibly mid-thirties if Chloe were to guess. She noticed he wore no wedding ring, and then she was embarrassed that she had looked. She told herself to chalk it up to possessing a reporter’s inquisitive nature.

  “I’m Dr. Hartman. Are you Anna’s family?”

  Erin nodded her head. Then she unexpectedly reached over and clasped Chloe’s hand. Chloe had been wondering if she should leave, but the look of panic on Erin’s face convinced her to stay.

  “I’m Erin Schwartz, Anna’s aenti, and this is Chloe, her friend. How is she? How is Anna?”

  “She’s stable.” Dr. Hartman nodded toward a chair opposite Erin. “Do you mind if I sit?”

  “Nein. So she’s out of danger? She’ll live?”

  “Anna is stable, and yes she will live.” He clasped his hands in front of himself, his elbows resting on his knees, and Chloe knew that his next words would change their lives forever.

  “Mrs. Schwartz, I’m sorry to inform you that your niece suffered an SCI—a spinal cord injury.”

  Erin clasped her hands to her heart. “What does that mean?”

  “It means the damage is irreparable.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Chloe filed her report by the deadline. She respected the Schwartzes’ desire for privacy and kept her column brief and to the point. Though Eric may have preferred a more sensational piece, she was determined to keep her emotions at bay. She could do that when she was writing, but the rest of the time she struggled.

  What had happened was terrible, and it seemed to haunt her hour after hour. Like a stone in the pit of her stomach, she carried her worry and grief with her everywhere. It colored the morning sunrise, turned her food bitter, and stole her sleep. How could such a thing happen to an innocent young woman in the prime of her life? How could it happen to anyone? What kind of God allowed tragedy and heartache to randomly destroy innocent people? Her faith, which she’d largely ignored since her father’s death, wavered. Did she believe what she’d always been taught? Was their God a loving God? Why did terrible, awful things happen to good Christian people?

  Chloe found none of those answers as she tossed and turned each night, but she would rise the next day and continue with her work. It was the one thing she knew she was good at, and the rhythm of investigating, researching, and reporting calmed her turbulent soul.

  She constantly reminded herself to focus on the who, what, when, and where of the story. As to the why, she wouldn’t attempt to address that question.

  Tornadoes Rip Path Through Cody’s Creek

  By Chloe Roberts

  Mayes County Chronicle

  CODY’S CREEK—Two tornadoes briefly touched down in Cody’s Creek yesterday, damaging crops and livestock. Multiple injuries were reported across the area but were minor in nature. Only Anna Schwartz sustained massive injuries. She was care-flighted to Oklahoma Surgical Hospital in Tulsa, where it was determined that she had suffered an irreversible spinal cord injury. The family had no comment.

  The National Weather Service confirmed both tornadoes hopscotched across the area beginning at 11:54 a.m. and lasting approximately 12 minutes. The storm was confirmed to be an F-3 with winds reaching 170 miles per hour. The area sustained some damage to structures. Both funnel clouds repeatedly dipped into fields, decimating crops but leaving houses and barns largely in tact.

  Dr. Greg Gardner with the National Weather Service issued the following reminder. “The Emergency Alert System now issues emergency warnings over wireless systems. You can sign up to receive text alerts through your carrier. Details can also be found at www.ctia.org/wea. Many local agencies also issue texts regarding critical weather events. Be alert, be aware, be alive.”

  Approximately 1000 tornadoes occur each year in the U.S., and Oklahoma records on average 52 per year. The weather service reports that annually 60 people are killed by tornadoes, most from flying or falling debris.

  CHAPTER 23

  Anna dreamed.

  In one dream she tried repeatedly to sew a quilt, only she continually pieced it together incorrectly. She was holding the fabric wrong, and her needle always had a small length of thread in it, causing her to bend over the work and take increasingly tiny stitches. Each time she turned the fabric over and began to sew, she looked down and found herself staring at a large needle and a too-short length of thread. Slowly she would begin to sew again and the entire scene would repeat, looping endlessly until she thought she would scream.

  Another time she was walking through her aenti’s fields. Wildflowers stretched in front of them as far as her eye could see. That made Anna laugh, as she’d never imagined a land that had been so tough to farm could be so beautiful. A bird chirped in the background. She could never see it but felt as if the bird was following them as she walked through the sea of wildflowers. Anna ran through the flowers, only to find that she was suddenly stuck in a field thick with corn about to be harvested. When she looked up, a rainbow adorned the sky.

  It was the last dream that bothered her the most. In it, a handsome, strong young man hovered over her, concern etched across his face. He looked as if he was about to cry, and she wanted to reach up and smooth the worry from his face. She didn’t know who the man was or why he would be so worried. She didn’t know what she could say to relieve his fears. Occasionally he would speak, whispering, “You’re going to be okay.” She wanted to believe him, but there was such fear in his eyes—a deep, lasting misery. For some reason she couldn’t fathom, she asked him to hold her hand and he did. The tenderness in his touch was more than she could have imagined, but the grief never left his eyes.

  The dreams repeated themselves, always the same, always ending in confusion and fear. She longed to open her eyes but found it too difficult. She was too tired. So she would give in to the need for rest and allow herself to drift off, only to be pulled again into a cycle of nightmares.

  When the man began to cry, the man who was holding her hand, Anna knew then that she could stand it no longer. She made up her mind to scream out, to cry for help, but someone was again standing over her, murmuring.

  “It’s all right, Anna. It’s only a dream. Relax. Try to relax.”

  She opened her eyes with a heroic effort. Bending over her, gray hair peeking out from her kapp, brown eyes assuring her that all was fine, all was okay, was her mother.

  “Mamm?”

  “Shh. Don’t try to sit up yet. You’ve been resting a long time. Take a moment.”

  Anna allowed her eyes to travel around the unfamiliar room. It was too bright, owing to electric lights in the ceiling. Machines were lined up on the left-hand side of her bed. One showed a display with a line going up and down, and it beeped occasionally. The other held a bag of fluid that was connected to the needle in her arm. Directly across from her bed and mounted on the wall was a television, which was turned off. There was also a long row of windows with their blinds partially open.

  “Mamm?”

  How was it that her mother was here? Her mother was supposed to be in Indiana. It was harvesting time. She would be needed to help her father.

  Those thoughts were immediately followed by a question. “How sick am I?” The machine began to beep and a red light flashed over the zigzag line.

  “Look at me, dochder. Deep breaths. I am here with you. Don’t be afraid.” Her mother’s voice remained calm. “You’re all right, Anna.”

  While her eyes held compassion and a mysterious kind of sadness, Anna knew she was telling the truth. She must be. As far as Anna knew, her mother had never lied. She might occasionally avoid an answer, but lie? No. She seemed incapable of such a thing.

  Anna wanted to speak, to ask her mother about the grief in her eyes and more, but when she tried, her voice came out a croak.

  The door opened and a nurse walk
ed in—a woman with short, spiky gray hair. “Our patient is awake and no doubt quite thirsty. Let’s see if these ice chips will ease that dryness in your throat.”

  The nurse handed the cup to Anna’s mom, and then she walked over to the machine and touched a button that turned off the flashing red light.

  “It’s good to see you awake, Anna. I’m Nancy, and I’ll be your nurse this afternoon.”

  Anna accepted the ice chips. Her lips felt dry and cracked when she ran her tongue over them. The cold water instantly eased the pain in her throat.

  “Where… where am I?”

  “More ice, Anna.” Her mom popped in another spoonful before she could argue.

  “You’re at Oklahoma Surgical Hospital in Tulsa, and you’ve had quite a lot of visitors these past few days.” The nurse noted something on a tablet she held in her hands, glancing again at the machines occasionally.

  Something squeezed her arm, and she attempted to pull herself free from it.

  “That’s only a blood pressure cuff. It’s reading your vital signs, and then they appear here on this screen.” The nurse tapped on one of the monitors. “Both your heart rate and blood pressure. If either number becomes too high or low, the monitor you heard goes off. We’re very high-tech here.”

  This seemed to be some sort of joke between the nurse and her mother, who exchanged a smile.

  The beeping sounded like the bird in her dream. Why had there been birds in her dreams and how long had she been in the hospital?

  Nancy stepped closer, her attention now completely focused on her patient. “How does your head feel, Anna?”

  “Fine. I guess.” She wanted to raise her hand, to check if her kapp was on, but she was connected to so many machines she couldn’t actually move her arm.

  “No headaches or blurry vision?”

  “Nein. What happened?” Anna cleared her throat and tried again. “I remember driving the team and then… nothing.”

  Aenti Erin pushed through the door and into the room at that moment. The panic that Anna had felt on waking returned full force when her aenti rushed across the room and grabbed her hand.