by Nancy Mehl
Abigail arched one eyebrow and stared at Ida without smiling. “Well, I hear you have been busy attending that liberal church in town. Perhaps they don’t teach taking care of your neighbors there?”
Ida toddled up next to Abigail and kissed her on each cheek. “Now Abigail, the church is not liberal. They also live a simple life. You should visit. I believe you would enjoy it. The pastor is a man of great love and deep understanding.”
“Humph,” she uttered. “We had a wonderful church until you broke it up. I believe you’ve also convinced the Vogler family to abandon true doctrine.”
Ida laughed gently. “No, Abigail. I do not convince anyone to do anything. God alone is able to lead His sheep. And you know that our number began to dwindle because our dear brother Benjamin died. And then Gabriel and Sarah decided to attend Bethel, as I did. The Voglers made their decision later without any help from me. And the Beckenbauer brothers are too ill to attend church at all. It might interest you to know that Abel and Emily Mueller visit them regularly and help to care for them. They have become very good friends.”
“Oh, pshaw,” the woman spat out. “The brothers are taking help because they have no other choice. I would help them if I could.” Her voice took on a whiny tone. “But as you can see, I can’t do much for anyone.” She leaned over and rubbed her cast. “I’ve been in this chair for a month now. It doesn’t get any better.” She reached up and grabbed C.J.’s hand. “Thank God my son is here to take care of me.”
C.J., who still stood in back of his mother’s wheelchair, winked at us. “Now Mama, you know the doctor said your bones were healing nicely and that you should be able to start getting around with crutches before long.”
Abigail quickly pulled her hand from her son’s. “You just say that because you want to abandon me again.” She put her hands up over her face. “I am so alone. There isn’t anyone who cares about me.”
“How did you break your leg, Abigail?” Ida asked, ignoring her friend’s attempt to gain sympathy.
“I tripped on the stairs carrying my laundry to the basement,” she said. “I lay on the floor for days because no one cared enough to check on me.”
“But I believe Kenneth and Alene Ward bring you groceries almost every week, isn’t that true?” Ida said.
Abigail turned her face away and wouldn’t answer.
“That’s who found her,” C.J. said. “And it was only a couple of hours after she fell. Not days. They called an ambulance and stayed with her at the hospital. They also called me. Nice people.”
“You have no idea how long I was on that hard cement floor!” Abigail cried angrily. “You were nowhere around and haven’t been for years. You don’t care anything about me.”
“Now Abigail Bradley,” Ida said emphatically, “you stop this right now. Your son left his job to come here and help you. This is not the right way to treat people. Especially your own flesh and blood.”
Abigail’s expression turned even more irate, but she clamped her thin lips shut.
C.J. sighed. “I’m sorry for my mother’s behavior.” He patted her on the shoulder. “She has been in quite a bit of pain. I’m sure it’s not easy to stay cheerful when you hurt so much.” He smiled at us. “May I get you ladies something to drink?”
Ida leaned over and hugged her friend, and then she walked back over to where I sat. “No thank you, C.J.,” she said. “As we told you, we are on our way to see a friend in the hospital. I just wanted to check on Abigail. We should be on our way.”
“Just like you to rush off,” Abigail barked, abandoning her momentary attempt at silence. “You leave me alone for months, and then when you do come by, you only stay a few minutes. I guess you can check me off your list of things to do now.”
“Mama!” C.J. said. “That’s enough. I think it’s time for you to go back to bed. Maybe a little sleep will help calm you down. And perhaps another pill?”
“No! You give me those pills to keep me quiet.” She looked at us, her eyes wide. “He tries to keep me asleep so I won’t complain.”
I couldn’t help thinking that if I were C.J., keeping his mother knocked out on medication would be a temptation I wasn’t sure I could resist. However, it was obvious he was going out of his way to care for her.
“We must be going, Abigail,” Ida said. I stood up and held out my arm so she could hold on to me. “I will check back with you soon. And C.J., please let me know if there is anything I can do to help you. Gracie, can you give him my telephone number? I can’t ever remember it.” She turned and smiled at him. “I know there is no phone here, but if you need to reach me, you can do so in town, from the restaurant.”
I opened my purse and pulled out a small notepad. I wrote down Ida’s number and then my own and handed the paper to C.J.
“Thank you, ladies. I truly appreciate it. So far we’re doing fine, but if I do need something I’ll certainly call you.”
“I’d like to invite you to my wedding, C.J.” I gave him the details while his mother glared at me. “I understand if you’re too busy, but I’d love it if you could come.”
“I’ll certainly try. I appreciate the invitation.” He took Ida’s cape from the coatrack and helped her into it.
We made our way to the front door to the sounds of Abigail grumbling about being deserted by people who called themselves her friends. I couldn’t wait to get out of there and away from that unpleasant woman. We said good-bye to C.J. and he closed the door behind us. The rain was still coming down so I popped open the umbrella and held it over us until we were inside the car.
“Man, that woman is something else,” I said when we were both safe inside. “How can you be so kind? I just wanted to punch her.”
Ida’s nose wrinkled up as she giggled. “Oh, Gracie. I do not think you would ever strike a woman in a wheelchair. No matter how obnoxious she was.”
“I wouldn’t place a bet on that,” I said under my breath. I started the car and began backing out of the dirt driveway we’d come in on. My concentration was on my rearview mirror, and I forgot about the big mud hole I’d driven around when we’d arrived. My back tires suddenly sank down into it, and it was clear after several attempts that I would need assistance to get free.
“We’re stuck, Ida,” I said. “I’ve got to go back to the house and get some help.”
The old lady nodded. “I’m sure C.J. will give us the assistance we need.”
I started to open my door, thinking what a mess I was going to be after wading through the mud hole in the rain, when my door flew open. C.J. stood there in a gray plastic rain covering, a hood over his head.
“Stay in the car,” he said. “I’ll get my truck and pull you out.”
“Oh thank you so much,” I responded with relief. “I’m sorry. I should have gone around it.”
He smiled, water dripping from the edge of his hood and past his face. “No, I should have filled it before this happened. It’s my fault.” He pointed to the front of my car. “I’m going to put a chain around your bumper and attach it to the back of my truck. I don’t think you’re stuck too badly, so I don’t believe it will cause any damage to your car.”
I grinned at him. “That’s fine. I’d rather mess up my bumper a little bit than sit in this hole until it dries up.”
He laughed and shut the door. Ida and I waited a few minutes until C.J.’s truck came around the back of the house. Of course it was red, just like every other Tom, Dick, and Harry in the county. I almost laughed. I had no intention of falling for this again or leveling any further accusations toward anyone in Harmony.
C.J. pulled around in front of us and wrapped a couple of thick chains around my bumper. I’d turned off my wipers so it was hard to see him. He came back to my window. I rolled it open.
“Turn off your engine and put your car in neutral,” he instructed.
“Okay.” I rolled my window back up and turned off the engine. Then I shifted into neutral. It was almost impossible to see anything wi
th the rain pouring down and hitting the windshield, but I heard C.J’s motor rev up. Then slowly we began to move. Within a couple of minutes, we were out of the hole. C.J. got out of his truck, removed the chains, and waved us on. I lowered my window once again and yelled “Thank you!” to the now thoroughly drenched man. I started the car and turned on my windshield wipers. For the first time I got a good look at C.J.’s red truck.
And his bumper sticker with a big black bear emblazoned on it.
Chapter Nineteen
I drove the rest of the way to Topeka without saying anything to Ida about C.J.’s truck. For crying out loud. Did everyone with a red truck have a compulsion to stick an image of a bear on his bumper? I’d made Pat investigate two men because they had red trucks. Only one had a bear bumper sticker. Besides, what if the witness who saw the truck in Topeka was wrong? What if the animal on the bumper sticker wasn’t a bear at all but some other animal? Rufus’s Chicago Bears bumper sticker wasn’t the least bit odd seeing as how he’d moved here from Chicago. Maybe the image on C.J.’s sticker was something else entirely. With all the rain, I hadn’t seen it clearly. I’d feel pretty stupid if the sticker was actually a shout-out for the I Love Koalas Club. I decided to stop back by Abigail’s and get another look at that truck before I did anything stupid. I tried to put it out of my mind, but I couldn’t help thinking if Hannah showed up in a day or two, sorry that she’d run away and thinking that she could just waltz back into town after causing all this trouble, the next person Pat might have to physically restrain would be his future daughter-in-law.
We were almost to Topeka when I spotted a park by the side of the road with covered shelters. The rain had slowed down to a light sprinkle. I pulled off the road and into the park. “Maybe we should eat here,” I said to Ida. “What do you think?”
“Ach, it is just lovely, Gracie,” she said with a smile. “Yes, let’s stop here.”
I parked as close as I could to the shelter, and we both got out. I carried the picnic basket to one of the covered tables. Surprisingly, it was clean and didn’t need to be wiped down, a condition not always true when it came to eating outside. I surveyed the area. Very nice. Lots of trees and pleasant landscaping. I compared it to the park in Harmony, which was one of my favorite spots in town. One reason I loved it so was because it reminded me of a special place in Wichita where I’d spent many happy days.
O. J. Watson Park is the epitome of what a park should be. It contains a beautiful lake full of ducks, geese, and even a crane or two, with tall trees full of lush leaves and wildflowers that grow along the paths. And Watson Park has something else unique to Kansas—an actual yellow brick road that winds through it. It’s still my favorite walking trail. I used to go there on the weekends just to walk the road, enjoy nature, and watch children laugh as they rode ponies, pushed paddleboats across the sparkling water, or caught a ride on a special train that chugs around most of the perimeter of the park. Over the years, the friendly park staff had grown to know me, and every time I went there, it was like visiting dear friends. My love for Watson Park had helped me to realize that this city girl longed for the beauty and silence of the country long before I was able to recognize it.
“Are you here with me, Gracie?” Ida said, chuckling. “You look so far away.”
I laughed. “I guess I was. I was remembering a special place I used to visit in Wichita. This park made me think of it.”
Ida breathed deeply. “Ja, this is lovely. I would rather eat outside any day than sit in my house or in a restaurant. Many days I take my lunch out on the front porch and eat it there.”
I’d just started to open the picnic basket when I remembered we had nothing to drink. I mentioned my concern to Ida.
“Ach,” she said with a smile, “I remembered. Open the basket.”
I looked inside. There were two Mason jars with iced tea nestled between a thick towel so they wouldn’t hit against each other and break. I removed the jars and the food, and we spent the next forty minutes enjoying our supper. The sandwiches were delicious, the pickles crisp and tart, and the baklava sweet and flaky. By the time we finished, I couldn’t eat another bite.
We packed up, got back in the car, and drove to the hospital. I was using directions copied from the Internet, but I missed our turnoff the first time. The second time around I found the hospital without any problem. I parked, and Ida and I went inside. I had Sarah’s room number, but I wasn’t sure how to get there. A kind receptionist gave us directions. It was amusing to see all the odd looks aimed Ida’s way. In Harmony, conservative Mennonite clothing went unnoticed. Ida’s was somewhat more severe than most, but no one ever paid any attention to her. Here, she stuck out like a sore thumb. I was certain she wasn’t used to the stares since she hardly ever left Harmony, but she carried herself as if she had no idea she was garnering attention. Finally we found Sarah’s room. The door was open, and as we entered we immediately saw Sarah sitting up in her bed. She looked so much better than she had when she collapsed, I was filled with joy.
“Gracie! Ida!” she called out when she saw us. Her face lit up in a smile. She wore a hospital gown, and her long black hair hung down past her shoulders. “I am so glad to see you both!”
I hurried over to her side and put my arms around her. “I’m thankful to see you looking so well, and I’m grateful to God for taking such good care of you.”
She patted my back with her small hand. “God is good, isn’t He? He brought just the right people to me when I needed help.” She tightened her arms around me. “Thank you, Gracie. Thank you for all you did for me. And thank your father for me, too, won’t you?” She let me go and lay back on her pillow. “The doctors say I can go home soon. Then I’ll be able to offer my thanks to your father in person.”
“He’ll be happy to see you.”
Ida, who’d gone around to the other side of the bed gave Sarah another big hug. “I prayed for you, dear, sweet Sarah,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion. “I knew the God who heals would keep you safe.”
“He has done exceedingly above and beyond, Ida,” Sarah said solemnly. “The most recent tests are good. The doctors say I am responding very well to the medicine they’ve prescribed. I’m already feeling much better than I have in a very long time.”
“That’s wonderful,” I said.
“Well, well. Look who’s here.” Gabe’s deep voice rang out from behind us. I turned around to find him smiling at us. “Gracie and Ida. Two of my very favorite people. I’m so glad to see you.”
He held out his arms, and I embraced him. Goodness, he really was turning into a great big teddy bear in Mennonite clothing. He also greeted Ida, and then helped her into a nearby chair.
Sarah asked about Hannah.
“Nothing new,” I answered. “It’s been five days now. I’m ready for her to come home.”
“I feel badly for Abel and Emily,” Gabe said. He walked over to Sarah’s bed and took her small hand in his. “I know how it feels to wonder if you might lose the most important person in your life.” His voice broke.
I reached over and put my hand on his shoulder. “I know you do. We’re all so grateful nothing really awful happened.”
Sarah gave me a beatific smile. “And that’s not all God has done, Gracie. You’ll never guess.”
I frowned at her. “I give up. What else has He done?”
“Great and mighty things.” I immediately recognized the voice that boomed from behind me. John came up next to the bed. I almost gasped at the change in his expression and the different look in his eyes. There was a light that hadn’t been there before.
“Oh John,” I said, overcome with emotion.
“Now, now, Gracie,” he said, grabbing my hand. “No tears. I’ve spent the last two days being weepier than any man should be.”
“Ach, my dearest John. You have met my friend Jesus, ja?”
He smiled. “Yes, Ida. I’ve met your friend. And it didn’t happen just because He saved Sarah�
�s life, although that started it. After we got to the hospital, while the doctors were working with her, I went to the chapel, got down on my knees, and asked God to reveal Himself to me. I’d heard the story of salvation many times and rejected it because I couldn’t be sure it was true. I needed to know God. To know in my heart He was real. I couldn’t believe just because people told me I should—or even because the message of the cross was so appealing. I needed to experience the presence of God for myself.” He tried to blink away the tears in his eyes. “And I did. I can’t really explain it. All I can tell you is that God visited that room. He visited this man, and I will never, ever be the same.”
If we hadn’t been standing in a hospital, I think I would have jumped up and down and shouted at the top of my lungs. Even the sedate and dignified Ida looked as if she had some Holy Ghost fire in her belly.
I threw my arms around John and hugged him as hard as I could. “I’m so happy, John. So very happy.”
“Now you’re more than my friend,” he whispered into my ear. “You’re my sister.”
“And proud to be,” I replied softly. I let go of him and smiled at everyone in the room. “Now if Hannah would just come home, everything would be perfect.”
Sarah nodded. “We will all keep praying.”
“I know the whole town of Harmony is praying as well,” Gabe said.
His reminder about Harmony made me think about Sam. I rifled through my purse, only to realize I’d left my cell phone at home. Cell phones are so useless in Harmony, I tend to forget I have it. “Is it okay if I use your phone, Sarah? I’d like to call Sam and tell him we got here safely.”
With Gabe’s encouragement, I called Sam’s house collect. He answered after the second ring. I waited while the operator confirmed that he would accept the charges.
“So you made it,” he said after the operator left the line.
“Yes, we’re here. I’m in Sarah’s room, and she looks incredible.”
