From Pharaoh's Hand

by Cynthia Green

  “Excuse me, ma’am,” Sam began as he approached the desk. “ Ma’am, we have a newborn here that needs attention.”

  “A newborn? Where’s the mother?”

  “We don’t know. It’s quite a mystery. We found the baby floating in the river this morning in a canoe.”

  “What, you’re kidding, right?”

  “It’s the truth with my hand up, miss. He appears to be okay, just hungry.”

  Sam and Callie did not notice the camera crew closing in on them. WBBJ had been following the story since they had arrived in Linden soon after midnight. They had come to interview the hospital officials about the number of injuries that had been reported. Sensing a sensational story afoot, the reporter stuck his microphone in front of Sam’s face and started firing questions. Sam was still holding the baby to his chest, trying to protect him from the media’s onslaught.

  “Excuse me, did you say you found a newborn in the river this morning?”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “In a canoe? How did all this come about?”

  “Well, the missus and me, we drink out coffee out on the porch every morning and watch the sun come up. Had no idea a tornado had been through. Noticed the canoe down at the water’s edge. That was when we heard Moses cryin’.”

  “Moses? His name is Moses?”

  “Well, ma’am we don’t know what his name is. We been callin’ him Moses ‘cause we drew him out of the river. Seemed fittin’.”

  “And you say he was in a canoe? Where do you think he came from, sir? Were there any clues that might indicate who the baby belongs to?”

  “He was lying in the bottom of a canoe wrapped up in a blue long-sleeved t-shirt. I have it here in this bag that was with him, along with some other things.” Sam fumbled with the bag for a minute, then pulled the dirty shirt out and held it up. “Only thing I could tell was, it was probably a kid. Shirt’s got an Indian chief logo on it with the initials, NSHS above it. Figured it was a high school mascot. The shirt was dirty and wet, so the wife wrapped the baby up in a proper blanket.”

  Just then the nurse came around from the counter and shooed away the press. She took the baby into her arms and disappeared through the double doors that led to the ER within.

  The automatic entrance doors opened and a group of men ushered Catfish Jones in on a gurney. The reporter turned his attention to this new development, leaving Sam with instructions to wait there for a further in-depth interview. Sam and Callie craned their necks with great interest as they made their way to the lobby seating area. The media had completely surrounded the group of men.

  “Stand back please. Not now. This man is in bad shape. Please,” said the sheriff.

  “Just a quick comment, if you will, tell us who this is and what’s happened.”

  “I said, not now. I’ll give you a press conference with full details later in the day. Right now we’re still working on the rescue efforts. And this man needs treatment.”

  The paramedics pushed their way through the group and swept Catfish away to triage. The reporter shoved his microphone into the sheriff’s face and continued.

  “Have you been notified about the newborn that was just admitted that was found floating in the river?”

  “Newborn? What? Um...no I haven’t. As you can see, we’ve been quite busy.”

  “Mr. Sam Mathis and his wife, Callie brought the baby in a few moments ago. Mr. Mathis found the infant floating in a canoe at the river’s edge in their back yard earlier this morning. No one knows how the baby got there and how the baby could have possibly survived the tornado. Any ideas on who this miracle baby they call “Moses” belongs to, Sheriff?”

  “I will have to get back to you on that. In the meantime, I would ask that you please refrain from reporting until you get the complete set of facts.”

  The reporter did not answer the sheriff, but he promptly turned towards the camera and said,

  “This is Hal Jacobs, for WBBJ-TV, reporting live from Perry County, Tennessee. Stay tuned in as we will be bringing you details from these stories as they become available.”

  Chapter 25

  New Hope

  In Jackson, John was sitting on the bed waiting for Carolyn to finish pressing his dress shirt. He had an important meeting this morning and wanted to impress his boss. He reached for the television remote and turned on CNN.

  “Bad storm we had last night wasn’t it,” Carolyn said.

  “Yep. But not near as bad as it got once it crossed the river. Usually those storms lose a little speed once they move out of our area. This one doubled in strength. They’re calling it an F-4.”

  “Anyone hurt?”

  “It hasn’t said yet. Right now it’s showing a lot of the damage. Perry County took a big hit. Lost several structures. The Middle School was flattened.”

  “Good thing it was at night. Can you imagine if it had hit during the school day. F-4 is almost as bad as the one that hit us, isn’t it?”

  “Ours was a F-5, but you can bet there’s plenty of damage.”

  John flipped the channels on over to his local station, Channel 7, WBBJ-TV. The reporter was interviewing a couple at Perry County Medical Center. Carolyn handed John the freshly pressed shirt, and he began to button it as he watched the screen.

  “Excuse me, did you say you found a newborn in the river this morning?” the reporter asked; his voice was breathless and urgent.

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “In a canoe? How did all this come about?”

  “Well, the missus and me, we drink our coffee out on the porch every morning and watch the sun come up. Had no idea a tornado had been through. Noticed the canoe down at the water’s edge. That was when we heard Moses cryin’.”

  “Imagine that,” John said aloud.

  “Shh. I want to hear the story,” Carolyn answered.

  “Moses? His name is Moses?”

  “Well, ma’am we don’t know what his name is. We been callin’ him Moses ‘cause we drew him outta the river. Seemed fittin’.”

  “And you say he was in a canoe? Where do you think he came from, sir? Were there any clues that might indicate who the baby belongs to?”

  “He was lying in the bottom of a canoe wrapped up in a blue long-sleeved t-shirt. I have it here in this bag that was with him, along with some other things.” John watched as Sam fumbled with the bag for a minute, then pulled the dirty shirt out and held it up. “Only thing I could tell was, it was probably a kid. Shirt’s got an Indian chief logo on it with the initials, NSHS above it. Figured it was a high school mascot. The shirt was dirty and wet, so the wife wrapped the baby up in a proper blanket.”

  John stood to his feet. The realization hit him at the same moment it hit Carolyn. A blue long-sleeved t-shirt with NSHS on it.

  “North Side High School!” They exclaimed in unison. And then turned back to the television, but a nurse had taken the baby and gone.

  “Carol, could that have been Beth’s shirt? Beth’s baby...our grandbaby?” John’s voice was excited and hesitant at the same time, as if she were too afraid to hope.

  “She did have a shirt like that. I remember she liked to sleep in it because it was long. Come to think of it, I don’t remember seeing it since she disappeared. Oh John, I know it’s her! It has to be her!”

  “Her backpack was pulled out of the Tennessee River at Perryville. That’s on the border between Perry County and Decatur County. I’m calling the sheriff.”

  “Forget calling the sheriff. I have to see that baby. I will know if it’s our grandson. I just need to see him. Get your shoes on, we’re headed across the river.” Carolyn’s heart was in her throat. Where was Beth? How had her grandson ended up in a canoe on the Buffalo River? How did that tiny newborn survive the night in an F-4 tornado? God, please let her be all right. Help us find her. Let my grandson be okay. Oh God, thank you. Thank you!

  Chapter 26

  Free at Last

  The muddy waters pulled and tugged at Beth�
�s legs and body. She clung desperately to the tree roots, and tried to remain calm as the water steadily rose. She had to get out from the river bottom. The wrath of the storm had dissipated, leaving in its wake a wildly swollen river. Tree limbs and brush were sweeping by her at a rapid pace. Several times Beth had to dodge to keep from being knocked unconscious by a heavy log. She had tried to pull herself along the edge of the bank and find a spot to climb out of the river, but once the tree roots ended, the bank was nothing more than silt and slime. She dared not turn loose, although her fingers had begun to grow numb.

  There was a branch lying low across the river. Maybe she could, if she stretched really hard, reach the branch. It hardly looked sturdy enough to support her, but she knew she couldn’t hold on much longer. The trauma of the birth and the lick on her head had sapped her of most of her strength. She was growing weary in her fight for survival. What does it matter, my baby is gone now. I can’t go back to Catfish. I’m as good as dead anyway. Maybe I should just let go, and let this be the end. My family thinks I’m dead anyway. I have nothing to live for now. Beth was so tired. She was just so tired. Her grip was loosening. She felt herself sliding out into the current. She was letting go. Her last thought as her head went under was, I’m going to be with my baby. I’m going to see God.

  The river swept Beth two miles downstream. She came up gasping for air, choking on river water, and then she came to an abrupt halt as her body slammed into a pile of brush that had collected against a fallen tree. Barely breathing, she lay there, half-conscious, across the pile of brush -- trapped by the tree with the water rushing across her legs. The morning sun had appeared and was drying the water from her bruised and bloody face. Beth felt the warmth on her face. She saw light. She saw golden halos of light, transparent and celestial. And she felt love, so pure and transcendent that she realized that she must be nearing heaven’s gates. There was no pain in her body. She was floating above the river and looking down.

  Below her she saw the twisted form of a familiar girl. That must be me. But if that’s me, how did I get here. Wake up, Beth. Wake up. Off in the distance she heard the sound of a thousand angelic voices. They were crying, “Holy, Holy, Holy” over and over in sweet tones of joyous praise. She wanted to get closer. She wanted to run to them, to hear their music, to sing with them. She wanted to see the face of God in all His glory. She wanted to see her baby. This is heaven. This must be heaven. I never knew how wonderful it would be. Closer, I want to go closer. I want to go in.

  “Not just yet, my child,” a Voice spoke. It was the most tender and loving voice Beth had ever heard. It sounded so familiar. So kind. “Not just yet, my beloved one. I still have work for you down there.”

  “But I want to see my baby boy. My baby...my boy...”

  “You must go to him, child; he is not here. It is not your time.”

  “If he is not here, then where is he? How will I find him?”

  “Love will lead you out of this barren land. Love will lead you to him. It is time for you to go my child. You are free.”

  Free. I’m finally free.

  Chapter 27

  Questions

  As soon as the media cleared out, Sam made his way over to the sheriff, who had been standing at the ER admitting desk talking to the clerk about the night’s events. Sheriff Wright wanted to wait around to make sure Catfish was going to pull through. He also had some reports to fill out, and he wanted to check on the ladies that had been trapped in the apartment complex. Was that really only last night? It seems like light years ago. Man, I’m beat. And now there’s this baby to investigate.

  “Um, Sheriff. I know you’re kinda busy right now, but I wanted to talk to you about the baby we found this morning.”

  “I was just fixin’ to ask you some questions about that. I hear your morning has been as strange as my night.”

  “Well, it certainly hasn’t been your usual Friday morning, I’ll grant ya that.”

  “Get Callie and let’s go back in this little office here and get me up to speed.”

  “Come on Callie,” Sam called. “Sheriff wants to ask us about the baby.”

  Callie rose to her feet and followed the two gentlemen to an office off the side of the admitting desk. In her hand she carried her shoulder bag and the tattered garbage bag. She felt a bit self-conscious about her looks. She had hastily thrown on an old jogging suit and ran her fingers through her hair. There wasn’t time for makeup or even to brush her teeth. But judging by the looks of things, Sheriff Russell had had a bad night too. She doubted if anyone would notice or care what she looked like at this point.

  The sheriff pulled up a rolling office chair as Callie and Sam sat in the two visitor chairs opposite the desk. He had so many questions running through his mind. It was hard to concentrate as tired as he was. The events of the night before were telling on his face. He sighed, ran his fingers through his hair, and then rubbed his eyes before pulling a pen and a small notepad from his shirt pocket.

  “Now where exactly did you find this baby this mornin’ Sam. Was it you, or Mrs. Callie here, that found him?”

  “Well, we both heard him about the same time. Callie and me were headin’ out to the back deck to have our morning coffee. We noticed the river was up, and I spotted a stray canoe down at the edge of the water. When we heard that baby cryin’ I grabbed my pants and shoes and took off down the hill.”

  “And what time was that this morning?”

  “It was, oh I’d say about sun up.”

  “And what did you find when you got down to the river?”

  “I pulled the canoe up on shore, and down in the bottom of the boat, lay this little fella, no bigger than a turnip. He was squalling his head off. He was laying on top of this bag here. Show him Callie what was in the bag.”

  Callie lifted the bag from off the floor and rummaged around in the top of it.

  “Well, the baby was wrapped in this t-shirt. But it was all soggy and dirty, so I cleaned the baby up a little and wrapped him in the afghan off the sofa.” She handed the shirt over to the sheriff. He spread it out before him and inspected it. “NSHS. North Side Indians?” “It looks to me like some kid is in trouble. But the river? I can’t figure out why they would put the baby in the river. What else is in that sack, Mrs. Callie?”

  Callie handed over the garbage bag, and Sheriff Russell began pulling out the items one by one.

  “Food. More clothing. Wait. What’s this?” His hand was on the walnut box. He pulled it carefully from the bag. It was an odd size, delicately carved and gold trimmed -- not what he had expected to find. He ran a finger around the lid. He read the inscription. It still did not dawn on him that this was part of the stolen King Tut exhibit. The sheriff opened the lid. He wasn’t sure what he had expected to find; he’d seen some crazy things in his job as an officer of the law. He caught his breath as the golden rings shone up at him from the dark interior. Rings. Heavy gold rings. Stolen, no doubt. No money. No credit cards. No ID. A runaway. Wait. The runaway from Madison County. It all fit. But where was the girl? And what did the rings have to do with anything? She needed money to survive. She was probably going to pawn them when she got where she was going. Had she been living in the woods all this time? Breaking into homes for food and money?

  “Thank you for bringing the baby and these things in. They will help us find the mother.”

  “But what will happen to the baby?” Callie asked.

  “Right now, he will be placed in the custody of the Department of Human Services. All that will have to be worked out. I imagine he will become a ward of the State. Looks like his mother will be facing jail time when we find her for endangering the baby, not to mention theft charges. She’s in a lot of trouble. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a call to make. Thanks again.”

  Callie and Sam were at a loss as to what to do. They didn’t want to leave the baby alone at the hospital. But what could they do but wait and see if the mother were found. Perhaps the girl’s fami
ly could be located. Already they had fallen in love with the miracle baby they had named Moses. Callie was softly crying as she left the office.

  Russell picked up the phone and dialed information. He wanted to call the Madison County Sheriff’s Office to confirm his suspicions. If this baby belonged to the Jackson runaway, Sheriff Dameron would be involved. And he would have all the information on the case.

  “Jackson, Tennessee. Madison County Sheriff’s Department.”

  Russell jotted down the number, dialed it, and then waited for an answer.

  “Uh yes... this is Sheriff Rus Wright over in Perry County. I need to speak to Sheriff Dameron if he’s in please.”

  “One moment, please.”

  “Sheriff Dameron speaking.”

  “Hello. Sheriff Wright, over in Perry County. How ya doin’ this morning?”

  “Well, better than you guys, obviously. What can we do to help you this morning, Rus?”

  “Well, I’ve got this situation that’s come up...in the middle of everything else. I think I have a lead on that runaway from Jackson back in the winter. What was her name?”

  “Elizabeth Morgan. What ya got?”

  “A baby’s what I got. Couple brought it in to the hospital this morning. Found it floating in a canoe in the Buffalo River this morning after the storm.”

  “What makes you think it’s connected to our case?”

  “Listen to this. The baby was wrapped in a blue long-sleeved t-shirt with an Indian logo on it, and the initials NHS.”

  “Holy cow. She’s still alive. Where is she?”

  “Well, that’s the thing. The mother was nowhere in sight. The baby was lying on a garbage bag that had some food and clothes in it. There was also some stolen jewelry in the bag--fancy stuff. Gold rings in a fancy jewelry box. She must be breaking in houses to survive.”