Thunder Snow Page 7

  He placed his chin on the table, staring at the jar, with tears glistening in his eyes.

  I squeezed his shoulder and shook my head. “Never mind. It won’t hurt, just this once.”

  I tiptoed to Poppa’s room. He still lay in the same position, and Momma now lay beside him on top of the quilt, fully dressed. Her eyes were also closed, and her breathing was even as in sleep. Zeke started forward, but I pulled him back.

  “Shhh . . . You’ll wake them.” We went into our bedroom, and I helped Zeke get ready for bed. When I tucked him in, his eyes pleaded with me.

  “Jay? Can I have my jar?”

  I kissed his cheek and went back to the kitchen to retrieve the jar. I blew out the lamp, and the house was plunged into darkness. I felt my way back to the bedroom, the lightning bugs lighting my way.

  Zeke held the jar close to his face. Rivulets of tears sparkled in the twinkling light. My heart overflowed with emotion, and I kissed him again and told him goodnight.

  Slipping under the quilt, I prayed as I had never prayed before.

  I slept and half-formed images drifted through my mind before taking on shape. I dreamed of Poppa swimming in the creek. A large snake, a horned snake, swam toward him, and I dove to help. But, as I drew closer, the snake wrapped itself around him. I grabbed Poppa and fought the snake, beating it with my fists. Slowly, I pulled Poppa closer to the shore, yet the snake stayed wrapped around him. As we reached the shore, the horned snake tightly constricted, and Poppa retched as I screamed for help.

  I awoke, my heart pounding in my ears. I still heard the retching from my dream, and I pulled myself to a sitting position.

  “Sarah Jane!”

  Chapter 15—Sickness

  I leaped out of bed and stumbled toward Momma’s panicked voice. The violent retching continued, and the smell of sickness assailed me. It was pitch black, and I strained to see.

  “Get the lamp and light it,” Momma commanded.

  I ran to the kitchen, knocked over a kitchen chair, and struck a match with trembling hands. I lit the lamp and carried it into Poppa’s room. Momma cradled Poppa’s head as he vomited into the chamber pot. I set the lamp down on the floor.

  “Get a wet wash rag. Hurry.” Momma didn’t look up.

  I scurried back to the kitchen, stumbling over the fallen kitchen chair. I scrambled to my feet and felt my way to the bucket of water on the counter. I dipped some into the wash pan and grabbed a few rags. I picked up the pan, and water sloshed over the sides. Water dripped with each step I made, and I tried to steady my trembling. I placed the pan on the floor by the bed.

  Poppa quit vomiting and fell back on the pillow, his face deathly pale. Momma supported him while I tugged the shirt over his head. We managed to change his shirt and then the sheets. Momma rolled them up and thrust them in my hands.

  “Take them outside and just throw them over the clothesline for now.” Momma took one of the rags and dipped it in the pan of water.

  A lump formed in my throat, and I choked as I walked into the cool night air. Oblivious, the stars twinkled overhead, brightening other worlds.

  I shook out the sheets and threw them over the line along with his shirt.

  Stopping at the shelf on the back porch, I filled the pan with water. I jerked the wash rag off a nail and lathered it up to wash my face and arms. After flinging the water from the wash pan, I flipped it over to dry before going back in.

  Momma sat in the chair by the bed, her hands clasped together. Poppa lay very still, but his chest moved rhythmically up and down.

  “Go back to bed, Sarah Jane. And check on Zeke.” Her gaze stayed fixed on Poppa’s face.

  I nodded, knowing she couldn’t see me, but still unable to speak. I crept to my room.

  Zeke still slept, his arms wrapped around the jar, the lightning bugs still flickering. I gently pried the jar from his grasp and set it on the floor by his bed before lying down.

  And then the tears began to fall. My body shuddered as I sobbed face down into my mattress of corn shucks, rolling my head back and forth until all that filled me was the sound of shucks rattling in my ears.

  I AWOKE THE NEXT MORNING with my eyes swollen and burning. Zeke’s bed was empty. I rolled out of bed and yanked off my night clothes and pulled on a pair of overalls. My hands were clumsy as I buttoned the sides and fastened the straps.

  I slowed, reluctant to pull back the curtain. As long as I stood there, everything looked normal. I could pretend everything was normal.

  I took a deep breath, pulled back the curtain and walked out. In the kitchen, Momma, her hands on the kitchen table, leaned forward. I stopped and stared for a minute, disoriented. And then I realized why. Momma was praying. I had never seen her pray before.

  Quietly, I went in search of Zeke. He was sitting in the chair by Poppa’s bedside, his hands clasped together as he gazed solemnly at Poppa.

  I shuddered a sigh of relief to see Poppa sleeping and breathing normally, even though his face was pale and pinched.

  Zeke turned to me, his eyes round and his mouth drooping. I placed a finger to my lips and motioned for him to follow me. We went into the kitchen.

  Momma wiped her face with her apron, and Zeke ran to her and wrapped his arms around her legs. She absentmindedly stroked his hair while she studied me.

  “Sarah Jane,” she said. “I want you to fetch the doctor.”

  “Poppa seems better.” Surely he was better. He had to be better. I licked my lips, my heart pounding.

  She shook her head. “He’s very sick. Do as I say. You can ride one of the mules to Colt’s house, and he can take you on his wagon to get the doctor.”

  I nodded my head and headed to the door.

  “Sarah Jane, please hurry.”

  “Yes, ma’am!” I pushed the door open and jumped off the porch. I ran to the barn, snatched the bridle off the rail, and tugged it over Mr. Price’s head. Pulling him out into the yard, I clambered onto his bare back and dug my heels in his sides. He stepped forward, and I kicked him into a trot.

  Only a mile to Aunt Jenny and Uncle Colt’s house.

  It was a beautiful day. The sky was clear, the birds were singing, and the smell of honeysuckle drifted in the air. My stomach rumbled, and bile filled my throat. I kicked the mule harder.

  Halfway there, I realized it was Sunday, and I had no idea of the time. What if they already left for church? What would I do then?

  I could ride to the church building, but it lay to the south, in the opposite direction, about a mile past the school. The doctor was three miles north of our place.

  I squared my shoulders. If Uncle Colt and Aunt Jenny weren’t at home, I would just keep going until I reached the doctor’s house.

  Slapping Mr. Price on the rump, I leaned forward, willing him to break into a gallop. He trotted faster as I urged him on.

  Chapter 16—The Doctor

  Uncle Colt’s place came into view, and the wagon stood out front, the mules harnessed and tied at the front porch rail. None of the family was in sight. I slid off the mule and ran to the front door, yelling.

  “Uncle Colt!”

  He came out the front door, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “Jay?” His brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

  “Poppa’s sick.” My breath came in gasps as if I had been running. “Can you take me to the doctor?”

  Uncle Colt didn’t ask any questions.

  “Get in the wagon. I’ll be right back.” He slipped back inside.

  I tied Mr. Price’s reins to the front porch and climbed in the wagon. Uncle Colt came back with his hat in his hands, and Aunt Jenny followed him with Laurie and William. She had something wrapped in a dish towel, and she thrust it in Uncle Colt’s hands after he clambered in the wagon.

  “Be careful.” She stepped back and wrapped her arms around William and Laurie’s shoulders.

  I tried to speak but failed. I slumped forward, my head on my knees. Uncle Colt patted me on the back.

  �
��Are you hungry? Jenny sent along some biscuits and sausage.”

  I mumbled no without lifting my head. It was calming having Uncle Colt sit next to me, and the nausea I had felt since leaving home slowly passed. I straightened and told Uncle Colt about Poppa.

  He nodded his head solemnly and drove in silence for a few minutes.

  “Why is life so hard?” My voice trembled. If he had patted my arm then, I wouldn’t have been able to hold back the tears.

  “There’s not an easy answer to that. Just remember that this world’s not our home. We’re just sojourners.” He glanced at me. “Trials are to prepare us for heaven.”

  I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. We drove into the doctor’s yard, and I jumped out before the wagon stopped and bounded up the steps of the large two-storied house. I violently rapped the door knocker that was shaped like a lion’s head. It took a minute, the seconds ticking by excruciatingly slow, before the door opened. Doctor Burch peered at me over a pair of spectacles. Uncle Colt joined me, and I could only stare at the doctor mutely.

  “Sir,” Uncle Colt said. “My brother-in-law, James Hunter, is very ill and has need of your services.”

  “James Hunter.” Doctor Burch rubbed his stubbled chin. “Yes, I know him. Just a minute and I’ll get my coat and bag. The girl can ride with me and give me the details.” He shooed me toward his car and closed his door.

  “Uncle Colt,” I whispered. “Do you want me to ride with the doctor?”

  “Yes, Jay.” He squeezed my shoulder. “Go on and get in the car. I’m going to head on back.” He swung up to the wagon seat. “I’ll get Jenny, and we’ll meet you at your house. Keep your chin up.”

  I nodded, climbed in the old Model T, and waited. Doctor Burch came out and stood on the porch for a moment, straightening his coat. It was all I could do to not shout at him to hurry. He sauntered out to the car, dropped his bag in the back, and slid into the driver’s seat.

  He turned to get a better look at me. “And what was your name?”

  “Sarah Jane.” I clasped my hands together. “We need to hurry, Doctor Burch.”

  Giving a nod, he pressed a button on the floor to start the car and backed out of the yard. He drove carefully, his gray hair wisping around his head. I twisted my hands in my lap and fidgeted so much the car swayed with my movements. We hadn’t driven far when we passed Uncle Colt. I gave him a half wave before I turned to the doctor. I told him, in jerky sentences, how Poppa had taken sick.

  He nodded his head thoughtfully. “Appendicitis, sounds like.”

  I twisted my hands together until my fingers ached. “Can you help him?”

  His lips clamped together, and he shook his head slowly. “We’ll see. But, if it’s appendicitis, we’ll have to get him to the hospital for surgery.”

  The hospital? I knew there was one in Andalusia, but it would take hours to get there on a wagon. Did Poppa have hours? I pressed my foot down, willing the doctor to drive faster. We continued to plod along. At the rate we were going I figured Uncle Colt would be right behind us. I turned around, but there was no sign of him.

  Hurry, hurry, hurry, I pleaded silently, my eyes tightly shut. I must have spoken aloud, because the car began to pick up speed. I leaned back, my eyes still closed.

  The car pulled to a stop, and I jerked the car door open and slid out. I waited impatiently for the doctor to retrieve his bag.

  “This way, Doctor Burch.” I headed to the back porch and raced up the steps.

  Chapter 17—The Hospital

  HERE Momma opened the door and put up a hand to stop me. “You need to see to the chores. And take Ezekiel with you.” Zeke held to her skirt, and she gave him a little push out. She motioned the doctor in and closed the door.

  Zeke’s eyes filled with tears, and I took his hand and squeezed it.

  We didn’t talk, but went about the chores mechanically, Zeke helping me as much as he could.

  When we finished, we headed to the back porch and waited on the steps. Zeke leaned against me and laid his head on my shoulder. When Momma and Doctor Burch came out, we scrambled to our feet.

  “Sarah Jane,” Momma said. “We’re taking your poppa to the hospital.” Her eyes were red, but otherwise she seemed calm.

  Momma carried a bundle of Poppa’s things out to the doctor’s car. When Zeke followed her, the doctor pulled me to one side. Before speaking, he pulled off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

  With kindness mingled with sadness in his eyes, he spoke. “Your father needs an operation.”

  “It’s his appendix?”

  He nodded.

  “Is it ruptured?” I asked, my heart in my throat.

  He ignored my question. “I need your help to get him to the car.”

  I followed him into the house. Poppa was already dressed, propped against the pillows. He gave me a weak smile and patted my arm.

  “Don’t worry none, Blue Jay.” His voice was weak, barely above a whisper.

  I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. The doctor helped him to his feet, and we shuffled out to the car, Poppa leaning heavily on me. Momma was kneeling down by the car, talking to Zeke.

  “You’re staying with Sarah Jane,” she said firmly.

  We weren’t going with them? They couldn’t leave us here, not knowing what was happening. We had to go. I started to speak, but Poppa clutched my arm.

  “Mind your momma. It’ll be okay.” His brown eyes were sunken but still twinkled. “Bring Ezekiel here.”

  I nodded and got Zeke while the doctor settled Poppa in the car. Zeke wrapped one arm around my leg, as if Poppa was someone he had never seen before. Poppa held out his hand, and Zeke stepped toward the car.

  “Always remember I love you, Ezekiel James.” He pulled Zeke to him and kissed his forehead. He reached over Zeke and took my hand. “Blue Jay, I love you.”

  Momma and the doctor climbed in the car.

  “We must get going,” Doctor Burch said.

  Reluctantly, I closed the car door, and they drove away. Zeke burst into tears, and I held him close, swallowing the lump in my throat.

  “Everything will be all right, Zeke.”

  Yet, I didn’t believe my own words. I had never felt more alone in my life.

  It was with relief that I saw Uncle Colt and Aunt Jenny drive into the yard. When Uncle Colt climbed down from the wagon, Zeke threw his arms around him and started crying again. Uncle Colt picked him up, and Zeke laid his head on his shoulder.

  “Where’s the doctor?” he asked me.

  “He’s taking Poppa to the hospital. Momma went with them.” I kicked at a clod of dirt.

  Aunt Jenny wrapped her arms around me. “Let’s get y’all cleaned up.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “We’re going to the hospital.”

  Uncle Colt strode toward the house carrying Zeke.

  I said a hurried prayer, thanking God, and ran after them.

  THE HOSPITAL WAS IN Andalusia, a long twenty miles away. The sun set before we arrived. The hospital had once been a house and towered three stories above us. It covered as much ground as four of our barns.

  A sign with only one word, “Hospital,” painted on it hung between two posts on the tiny front lawn.

  We entered through the large double doors and stopped at the desk. A gaunt woman, her hair pulled severely into a bun, gave us directions to Poppa’s room.

  We passed two nurses and a family group huddled outside one of the closed doors on the first floor. Poppa was on the second floor, and we climbed the wide staircase.

  My nose wrinkled as hospital smells assailed me. A strong scent, vaguely reminiscent of the liniment Poppa used on the cows, made my nose burn and my eyes water.

  Our footsteps echoed in the long, narrow hall. We stopped at the door with the number six painted on the door frame. Aunt Jenny knocked softly. Momma opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, drawing the door closed behind her.

  Before it closed,
I caught a glimpse of Poppa lying on the bed with rubber tubes running in different directions.

  “Did they operate already?” I asked.

  Momma nodded mutely.

  “What did the doctors find?” Uncle Colt asked.

  Momma, her eyes red rimmed, looked over Uncle Colt’s shoulder.

  Chapter 18—The Leaving

  Momma eyes glazed, and she didn’t answer. I clutched Aunt Jenny’s arm.

  Uncle Colt gently touched her shoulder. “Molly? What did the doctor say?”

  Momma’s eyes swept over us before she looked down. “His appendix had already ruptured.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

  “Can the doctors help him?” Aunt Jenny stepped forward and laid a hand on Momma’s arm.

  Momma shook her head and said only one word. “Gangrene.”

  She motioned for Aunt Jenny and Uncle Colt to go in. She followed them without seeming to notice Zeke or me.

  I slumped down to the floor and leaned against the wall. Numbness settled in me. Zeke crawled into my lap.

  His eyes round, he stared at me for a few seconds before he spoke. “Is Poppa going to die, Jay?”

  I took his hand in mine and gave it a squeeze. “Poppa’s going to heaven to be with God. He’s going to a better place.” I choked out the words and pulled him closer.

  I bent my head over Zeke’s and shut my eyes. A few tears squeezed through and ran down my cheeks. I took a deep, shuddering breath. I didn’t want Poppa to see me crying. If I ever got a chance to see him.

  The door opened, and Aunt Jenny came out, her eyes brimming with tears. Zeke and I stood, and Aunt Jenny wrapped us in her arms. I felt as if none of this were real.

  “Jay, you have to be strong . . . we all do.”

  She used her handkerchief, smelling faintly of her perfume, to wipe the tears from my face.

  Zeke had his arms wrapped around Aunt Jenny. She wiped his face also and looked at me keenly, with Poppa’s tender brown eyes. She cupped my chin in her hand.