“I feel a little rattle in my chest. Maybe I should stay in and—”
“You were snoring like an old Amish man when I came into your room. I think your chest is good. Those herbs I gave you worked.”
Hmm. Best not to fake an illness with Mammi. The woman’s herbal remedies might work, but swallowing the bitter teas was often more painful than the ailment. Not to mention that faking was a form of lying. She had enough sins without adding another to the count before her day had even officially begun.
Samuel’s boots clomping down the hall pulled Anna from her morose thoughts.
“Morning, Anna.”
Anna had noticed a marked change in her onkel’s attitude toward her over the last several months. Was it because he felt a sense of guilt for what had happened? That was a ridiculous thought. He had nothing to feel guilty about. More likely it was because he’d joined their community of believers again—in spirit as well as body. Whatever had caused him to hold himself apart for so many years had dissolved over the last six months. It was difficult to remain distant when folks brought meals for your table, feed for your animals, and seed for your field. Not to mention the monetary donations from the benefits, auctions, and even strangers.
“Ready?” he asked.
She nodded, placing her arms around his neck. Instead of putting her in the wheelchair, Samuel insisted on carrying her to the bathroom each day. Then Mammi would come in and help her take care of her toiletries and dress. The weeks in therapy had done little good, in Anna’s opinion. She had not regained any use of her legs. She had learned to maneuver the wheelchair, become convinced of the importance of eating right and doing her exercises, and regained her ability to use the toilet. There wasn’t a day that passed when she didn’t thank the Lord for that.
At first she had been astonished that her onkel was not too embarrassed to carry her into the bathroom. He’d been such a quiet, reserved man the first few months she’d lived with them. He was still quiet, but their relationship was different. Perhaps when you walked through the valley of death together, you grew closer. Not that Anna had been so very near death, except for the bouts with pneumonia that had frightened everyone.
Today her lungs felt strong, and though she did not understand the turn her life had taken, she was able to be objective enough to recognize the changes that had been good. Each time she placed her arms around her onkel’s neck and rested against him, Samuel would smile—a slow genuine smile. Was it for her? Was it a reflection of his heart? She didn’t know. There was so much she didn’t understand.
Mammi helped her with her toiletries. Her clothes had been hung in the bathroom the night before, and Anna was able to pull the dress over her head. She could now fix her own hair and even pin on her kapp. However putting on her socks and shoes was impossible. She would have tumbled right out of her chair if she tried, and then—if no one was there—she’d have to lie there on the floor until someone came. The thought frightened her. She let Mammi take care of those things. It wasn’t easy for the old gal. She couldn’t bend to the ground either. They were like two peas in a pod in many ways. She had to raise Anna’s foot and place it on the side of the tub. Then she would fetch Anna’s shoes and socks and put them on.
She was grateful for her aunt and uncle and grandmother. She appreciated the many letters from her siblings and parents, all of who continually offered to come and visit. But none of those things changed what she had become. She was a paraplegic, and that wasn’t something she would ever get used to. Thoughts of going back to Indiana had faded away. Why? What did it matter whether she sat in a wheelchair here or there? Her life had become meaningless, and it seemed to her that it would always remain that way.
CHAPTER 28
Jacob wasn’t in the kitchen when Anna rolled her chair into the room. Some days he joined them for breakfast if the work allowed. More often, he would eat a large breakfast at the bishop’s and work in the barn or on the fences or with the animals until lunch. Those were long mornings for Anna. Her time with Jacob was special, though she didn’t want to focus on that either. She wasn’t ready to examine her feelings, which she realized were as futile as wishing she could fly.
“Chloe should be here by ten, and she scheduled the van for half past the hour.” Her aenti set a hot mug of coffee in front of her. Anna never drank the stuff before… it seemed her life was divided into before and after the accident. She’d always thought of coffee as an old married person’s drink. But now she found the warm beverage helped to jumpstart her brain and even improved her attitude a little.
“I don’t like the van,” Anna confessed.
“Ya. The old ways were better. Though I agree with the necessity of using the tractors.” Samuel paused before adding, “If you had been driving a tractor instead of the horses, maybe you’d still be able to walk.”
“I don’t think so. If the tractor had turned over on top of me, it could have killed me. The horses ran away, and maybe that saved my life.”
They had spoken of the accident many times, but it seemed as if Samuel hadn’t been able to let go of his sense of guilt. He heaped a large pile of scrambled eggs on his plate, and then he passed the bowl to her.
Anna took one spoonful and passed it to her mammi. No matter how little she ate, her clothes grew tighter. She’d struggled with her weight before the accident, but in the last eight months she had lost that battle. Her entire body had changed, had rebelled against her and what had happened. It had embarrassed her when she’d needed newer, bigger dresses, though her aenti seemed happy to sew them for her.
“I’m glad we still take the buggy to church,” Anna said.
“And to weddings and funerals.” Mammi pushed up on her glasses.
“The buggy is what I like best.” Anna stirred the food on her plate. “Even when we have to strap my chair on the back, it’s soothing to ride behind a horse.”
“I’m surprised you aren’t a little bit afraid of them.” Erin set a tray of hot biscuits on the table, sat down, and began to fill her own plate.
Once she’d done so, her onkel said, “Let’s bow.”
Anna wasn’t sure what others prayed about during this silent time. She prayed that Gotte would help her through one more day. That seemed monumental enough of a request. And she tried to remember to be thankful for the food.
“Amen,” Samuel said.
He smiled at his wife as she passed him the bowl of grits. Erin had also changed since the accident. Hadn’t they all? Where before she was painfully thin, she’d put on a few pounds and they looked good on her. There was now color in her cheeks and she moved with more energy. It had occurred to Anna that being needed had changed her aenti into a different person.
“Anna loves the horses.” Samuel picked up the conversation where they had dropped it. “You should have seen her last week when Jacob took her to the barn.”
Anna blushed at the thought of Jacob pushing her wheelchair across the yard. He’d done so four times now, and each of those trips was burned into her memory. On the first they’d been watching the sunset when a bobcat loped across the yard in front of them. Anna had heard about them but never seen one. The cat moved gracefully, the sun bouncing off its brown coat. She’d been able to make out black-tipped ears and whiskers before it darted out of sight.
On the second time they had gone to the edge of the field so she could see the progress of the crops. The ache in her heart had been terrible then. She’d wanted so badly to stand up and walk down the rows. She’d insisted they go back inside, and though Jacob was obviously confused by her mood change, he’d quietly agreed.
The third time was what her uncle was referring to, when they’d gone to the barn. She did still love the horses. When Jacob took her to the horse stalls, and she was able to feed Snickers and Doodle a treat, it was as if a small part of her had healed.
It was the last trip with Jacob that stood out in her mind the strongest. He’d pushed her out to the mailbox, which sat near the tw
o-lane road. She’d been so happy to be away from the house, to be somewhere different, that she’d felt a curious lightness. She’d felt free. On the way back, a red-tailed hawk dove down in front of them, caught something up from the grass, and soared away. Its majesty and beauty had stunned them both, and they had remained there for a few minutes hoping it might return.
Jacob seemed to enjoy those walks as much as she did, though she couldn’t imagine why. Surely he had more important things to do than push a wheelchair around the yard. He had even suggested she allow him to put her on the tractor so they could head off toward the tank on the back side of the property to fish. Jacob often put preposterous ideas in her mind.
“She fed Snickers by hand,” Samuel continued. “That horse is becoming spoiled.”
“I’m not afraid of Duchess or the workhorses, and I do prefer them to the van or any Englisch vehicle. The horses, they did me a favor.” It was Anna’s opinion that if the horses hadn’t thrown her, she would have continued driving straight into the storm. She would have died after being sucked up into the tornado. The horses’ instincts had saved her, though at a terrible cost.
“We could have helped you into Chloe’s car, but she wasn’t sure she could get you back out. The van is a good compromise.” Samuel continued to shovel food into his mouth, pausing once in a while to swipe at his beard.
“We’re fortunate Mayes County offers such a service,” Mammi said. She sipped her coffee slowly as the steam rose up from her cup.
Conversation died as each person focused on their plate.
The door to the mudroom banged open, followed by the sound of Jacob stomping his feet on the rug.
“Sorry I’m late.”
“No problem, Jacob. Sit here. I’ll fetch you a plate.”
He sat across from Anna, saying good morning to Mammi and assuring Samuel that the animals had all been cared for. “The cow was in a mood this morning. She tried to kick me once.”
“Sounds like Bella. She’s been cranky the last few weeks.”
“But she still gives gut milk,” Mammi added.
“Speaking of which, I thought we might make a buttermilk pie this afternoon, Mammi.”
Anna nearly winced. She loved her aenti’s cooking, but she had to find a way to eat less or burn up more calories.
“Going to town today, huh?” Jacob winked at her as he heaped food high on his plate.
“Ya, in the van.” Anna squirreled her nose, feeling like a moody child and not caring how silly she looked.
Why did it matter? She was convinced that he thought of her as a little sister. He no doubt felt he needed to protect her, but he didn’t care for her, not the way she cared for him. Her mood continued to drop as she considered a day away from the farm. She wouldn’t see him at lunch, and he’d likely be gone by the time she returned.
Jacob was still working for Bishop Levi a few hours in the afternoon when Samuel could spare him. The weather had been good and the crops were coming in well. There was work on any farm, but Samuel and Levi seemed to have more than their share. All but one of Levi’s sons had farms of their own, and Samuel had no sons. They had both adopted Jacob, who appeared content to split his time between the two places.
Soon the men were gone, Jacob pausing to whisper, “Enjoy your day in town and stay out of trouble.”
What trouble could she get into from a wheelchair?
She tried to control the blush creeping up her neck, but if he noticed he didn’t mention it. Instead, he thanked Erin for the breakfast, wished Mammi a good day, and hurried out after Samuel.
As the calories settled into her stomach and the dreams of the night before fell away, Anna’s mood improved. By the time there was a knock at the door, she was actually looking forward to the trip she had dreaded on rising.
CHAPTER 29
Chloe waited by the door after knocking briskly. She worried that her friend might have changed her mind. Anna suffered from depression and boredom. Chloe had done a lot of research on spinal cord injuries and paraplegics. Both said this was normal and might or might not pass as the injured person grew accustomed to their new life.
Chloe had visited once a week since the accident. At first Anna had been happy to see her, but then she’d decided that Chloe was visiting her out of pity. One day Anna had said as much. “I don’t need or want your sympathy. You don’t have to keep coming to see me.”
Those had been a rough few months through the darkest part of winter. Perhaps that was why Chloe had begun calling her mother again, several times a week. She needed someone to talk to, someone who understood about loss and pain and suffering. They didn’t talk about Chloe’s dad during those conversations—about his illness or his death. But her mother counseled her to have patience, to pray, and to keep visiting her friend.
When spring arrived Anna’s mood had improved, and she seemed to look forward to Chloe’s visits as long as they stayed at her uncle’s farm. She’d always found an excuse when Chloe discussed them going to town together. One night Chloe remembered her promise in the fall, after they had gone to see the Amish quilts. They had set a date to see the quilts Chloe’s mom made, but that plan had fallen away with so many others after Anna’s injury.
Now it seemed to Chloe that it would be good for Anna to enjoy an afternoon away from the farm. She’d spoken with Erin about it twice, and Anna’s aunt had agreed that it would be a good idea. But each time Chloe had tried to plan it, Anna had dodged and hedged and generally become difficult.
When Erin opened the door, Chloe blew out a sigh of relief. They were still going. She could tell by the smile on Erin’s face.
“It’s gut to see you, Chloe.”
“You too, Mrs. Schwartz. How is Anna today?”
“I’m fine, and I can hear you.”
Erin cocked an eyebrow and said, “She’s ready.”
Chloe walked into the sitting room and tried not to wince. The sight of Anna in a wheelchair still came as a shock, even after so many months. She’d been so vibrant and full of life when Chloe had first met her. Now she seemed like a mere shadow of her former self. Everyone said to give her time and Anna would find her way back to them, back to the person they knew and loved. But Chloe was beginning to worry that might never happen.
“Tell me you are not in a complaining mood today, Anna Schwartz. I’ve been looking forward to this trip for a week.”
Anna stared at her and attempted to frown, but when Chloe stuck out her tongue, she laughed. “You look like a child when you do that.”
“And you sound like one, which is why we make perfect friends.”
It was true. They’d become fast friends over the last eight, no nearly nine, months. Chloe realized with a start that in many ways Anna was the little sister she’d never had.
“I’m so glad you’re finally going to meet my mom.”
“I thought I met her in the hospital.”
“She met you. You were rather out of it.”
“Ya, so you tell me.”
“The van will be here any minute,” Erin said. “You girls had best hurry outside.”
Chloe moved behind the chair and released the brake. “Do you have everything you need?”
“What do I need?”
“I don’t know. Your purse? Maybe a pillow or…”
“I wasn’t planning on sleeping.”
“For your back! Weren’t you complaining about your back last week when we were on the porch looking through magazines?”
“Maybe, but I’m not going to look through magazines today.”
Chloe rolled her eyes, and Anna said, “I saw that. Well, I didn’t see it, but I know you either rolled your eyes or made a face.”
“She’s feisty today.” Chloe stopped in front of Mammi’s chair. “Can you explain that to me?”
Chloe had been teasing, but Mammi answered seriously. “Anna had a difficult morning because of the dreams, but I know she is looking forward to spending time with you.” Mammi patted Anna’
s hand and squeezed Chloe’s arm. “You two have a gut day.”
Erin returned with Anna’s purse. “Here you go. Be careful, girls.”
By the time Chloe pushed Anna outside and down the wheelchair ramp, they could see the van turning into the lane.
“What nightmares? You didn’t tell me about those.”
“Nothing to tell. I’m moody. Didn’t you hear?” Anna plucked at the fabric of her dark blue sleeve as she added, “I suppose I thought you might cancel.”
Chloe moved in front of the chair and squatted down in front of her so that they were eye to eye. “I’m not going to cancel. I’ve looked forward to this as much as you have.”
“Why? Why would you want to spend the day with someone like me who can’t… can’t do much of anything?”
Anna looked so vulnerable that Chloe longed to enfold her in a hug. Instead, she pulled a kapp string to the front that had caught behind her shoulder.
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m the crazy one, but I actually like spending a day with my friend instead of working.”
“We don’t have to work?” The teasing note was back in Anna’s voice.
“I thought about having you fold newspapers for me.”
“Next you’ll have me deliver them from my wheelchair.”
“Not a bad idea if you were in town where there are sidewalks.”
The van pulled to a stop and a black man jumped out. “Hello, ladies.”
“Gudemariye.”
Chloe was relieved to see it was Clarence driving. She understood full well how much Anna disliked riding in the van, though it was sometimes necessary in order to make one of her doctor appointments in Cody’s Creek. Many of the appointments were in Tulsa. For those trips, Erin and Samuel paid a neighbor with a vehicle that was equipped for wheelchairs.
Anna had complained about the van on more than one occasion after a doctor’s appointment or trip to the therapist. Chloe thought the problem was that Anna felt vulnerable in the van, especially when the driver was a stranger, but she had mentioned Clarence before. There was a smile on her face as she held a palm up and high-fived him.
Anna's Healing Page 13
