A Wedding Quilt for Ella (18 page)

“Maybe he’ll be makin’ it,” Ella said, daring to hope. “We don’t know how badly Eli is injured.”

Dora set her stool down on the concrete barn floor and turned back to face Ella. “You saw him, Ella. There was blood all over him. He even had blood coming out of his ears. That’s a sure sign he won’t make it. But I guess it doesn’t matter what you and I think. Things are out of our hands and even out of Dr. Mast’s hands—out of everyone’s hands in fact. You can’t change what is to be. Don’t you see that, Ella?”

A picture of her wedding quilt on top of Eli’s broken body rose in Ella’s mind. She stopped, unable to move for a long minute.
Did that perhaps doom Eli? Did it send him to the same fate as Aden? Did I condemn my own brother when I only meant to help him?

“It’s a foregone conclusion,” Dora said. “We’ll be burying him in a few days. I just know this. I now know we have lost our brother.”

“I don’t want to lose my brother,” Clara said, protesting from beside her cow.

“Aden’s family wasn’t given much choice,” Dora said. “Why do you think we should be given one?”

“He doesn’t even have a girlfriend,” Clara said. “He won’t have anyone but us to mourn him.”

“Then we’ll have to do more than our share,” Dora said. “Mamm will do more than her part, and Daett too. I know I’ll be mournin’ my share.”

Ella rallied herself from under the cloud of despair tearing at her own heart. “Perhaps
Da Hah
will spare us,” she said, surprised at her own words.

“I wouldn’t depend on it,” Dora said, standing to dump her first bucket of milk into the strainer.

“My hands ache,” Clara said.

“They’re going to be burnin’ by the time you’re done tonight,” Dora said. “Just take a break once in a while. It’s all you can do, and we do need your help.”

Silence settled on the barn, broken only by the moo of uncomfortable cows and the steady spit of milk streaming into the bottom of the buckets.

Twenty-two

M
r. Adams’ pickup truck pulled into the yard, bouncing to a stop by the front door. Mamm was already at the door when Monroe climbed out. She told the three smaller girls to stay inside as she rushed onto the porch and down the steps. Mr. Adams climbed out of the truck when he saw her approach.

“Your son has been taken to Tri-County by ambulance,” he said when she stopped in front of him.

“He’s alive, then?”

“He was when he left the clinic. Dr. Mast accompanied the ambulance, and he’s in good hands, ma’am.”

“With Dr. Mast, yah, he is. Where was he hurt?”

Mr. Adams shook his head. “It was all kind of a rush around there, and I didn’t hear anything.”

Mamm glanced at Monroe, and he shook his head.

The barn door opened, and Ella looked out. She thought she had heard a vehicle pull in.

“Monroe’s back,” she announced, turning to her sisters.

Dora stood up quickly and emptied her bucket into the strainer. “Be back in a moment, miss cow,” she muttered. “Got to see whether my brother is alive.”

Clara had just started to work on a fresh bucket, so she had little milk to dump into the strainer. When she stood up, the cow brought her tail around with a solid thump and caught her across the face. She stumbled into the aisle and lost her hold on the milk bucket. It clattered to the ground, and the milk flew against the wall. Clara shrieked and wanted to cry, but Ella took her hand and said, “Come. There’s more important things than spilled milk right now. We’ll clean it up later.”

“The milk,” Clara said, “it spilled!”

“It doesn’t matter,” Ella whispered, hurrying out.

Halfway across the yard, Dora had waited for them. Together they walked quickly toward the house.

“Good evening,” Mr. Adams said, smiling as they approached. “Your brother has been taken to the hospital.”

“So he’s not dead?” Clara asked.

“No,” Mr. Adams said. “We’ll hope for the best. He’s quite injured, I’m sure. You don’t get mauled by a bull without injuries. But Dr. Mast is doing what he can.”

“We thank you very much for your help,” Mamm said. “It means so much to us.”

“I’m more than glad I could help,” he said, “and if you need transportation to the hospital tomorrow, I think I can offer my wife’s services. I myself won’t be home during the daytime.”

“That would be too much,” Mamm said, her voice catching. “We don’t want to impose even more on you and your wife.”

Mr. Adams smiled. “Until your son is well, consider us available to transport you to the hospital.”

“You’re too kind,” Mamm said.

“Not at all, Mrs. Yoder. We will pray God brings a swift healing for your son.”

“If it is His will,” Mamm said.

“Then we will pray that it
be
His will,” Mr. Adams said firmly.

“Thank you,” Mamm whispered.

By the look on her mom’s face, Ella knew her mother hoped this man’s great boldness in asking the Almighty to make up His mind would not end up as an offense.

“Let us know,” Mr. Adams said, getting back into his pickup.

They watched him drive out the driveway.

“Oh, the poor cows,” Ella said, remembering their duties again. “We’re still not done.”

“I’ll help,” Monroe offered. “I’ll finish my silage afterwards.”

“I think I’ll be makin’ supper,” Mamm said. “I feel like I can breathe again.”

“The worst may still not be over,” Dora said. “There could still be bad news to come. We should keep our hope in check.”

“You had to say that,” Ella said, giving Dora a sharp look.

“I’m sorry,” Dora said at once. “I guess I can’t help myself.”

“Perhaps the news will continue to be good,” Mamm replied hopefully “There has been one good sign already. Mr. Adams was home tonight, and so he was able to drive Eli to the clinic. Yah, perhaps
Da Hah
will continue to help us out.”

Ella remembered her quilt and wondered if it had helped or made things worse.
Surely it isn’t a sign that makes Eli’s chances even worse. I shouldn’t think about such things. Surely a quilt doesn’t make a difference one way or the other.

“Let’s go finish the chores,” Monroe said. “It’s late enough already.”

“Clara can stay with me,” Mamm said. “I need help with supper, and you’re almost done, aren’t you?”

“Three cows, I think,” Ella said. “We can handle those. Her hands hurt by now, anyway.”

Clara nodded, and they left for the barn. When Ella got done with two cows, she checked the ones Clara had done. One still needed finishing. When she finished that cow, she stepped back as Dora released the long line of cows. They moved out to the barnyard, pushing and shoving as usual against those who paused.

With the last one outside, Ella went to check on Monroe. Normally she wouldn’t have concerned herself because Monroe was well able to take care of himself, but the earlier events had inspired fear.

“Are you okay?” she asked, hollering up the silage chute.

A fork load of silage thundered down, and she had to step out of the way.

She hollered up again. This time Monroe stuck his head out of the opening, halfway up.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“Just checkin’ on you. Are you okay?”

“I’ll be right in,” he said. “Just got a little more to pitch down, and then I’ll have to spread it out.”

“Want me to help you?”

He grinned. “Guess it would be nice—it’s kind of late. The fork’s over there in the corner.”

She knew what to do and went to look for the fork. The pile of silage Monroe threw down would need to be distributed along the wooden feed bins where the cows would have access later.

With her fork in hand, she got to work and had several loads drug to the other end by the time Monroe came down. He helped, and the job was finished quickly. Monroe went to open the gate for the cows and let the now subdued bull out of its pen. A few cows came in immediately, which alerted the others. By the time they left the barn, the whole herd was in line and scooping up the silage in great gulps.

The table was set and ready when they arrived inside. Monroe let Ella wash at the basin first while he waited. By the time Monroe was done, the others had seated themselves. Without Noah present, they bowed their heads in silence.

Ella didn’t feel hungry and noticed her mom didn’t have much on her plate either. Monroe and Clara seemed to have their full appetite, though. They took seconds of most everything. Since it was the family custom, she waited at the table until everyone was done and then stood to help clear the dishes.

“I’m going down to call at the phone shack,” Mamm said. “Maybe the hospital will have news.”

“I’ll drive you,” Monroe said as he stood, his plate finished and scraped clean.

“You don’t have to,” Mamm said. “It might do me good to walk down.”

“It’s too far,” Monroe said, his voice firm, “especially after dark.”

“I guess you’re right,” Lizzie said, giving in. “I hope I can find out something from Noah.”

“He’ll have good news,” Ella said, uncertain where her hopefulness came from.

A few minutes later, Mamm and Monroe left, the noise of the buggy wheels rattling in the driveway. Dora, who still sat at the table, sighed and got up to help.

Clara, sitting at her place at the table, asked, “What do you want me to do?”

“Dry dishes,” Ella said. “Ruth can help. Ada and Martha, you two stay in the living room and out of the way. I’ll start to wash, and Dora can clear the table.”

Dora nodded and diligently began to scrape the dishes into the scrap bucket before handing them to Ella to wash.

When the last dish was finally scraped, Dora took the pail outside to dump. She took no light along. They all knew the way by heart, and with the faint glow from the kitchen door, the path was easy to follow.

A few minutes after Dora had let the screen door slam, a loud shriek pierced the night air. Ella caught her breath and raced for the kitchen door.
What now? Did some awful creature assault Dora? Is there a robber man in the yard? Did he come to assault them when none of the men are home?

“Oh, no!” Clara said, following close behind her.

The two looked at each other, pale faces in the light of the kerosene lamp, and then they crept slowly toward the screen door. Ruth stood stock-still, frozen by the sink.

Dora’s voice reached them as the two made their way cautiously to the door. “Don’t come out here!” Dora yelled, her voice sounding muffled. Loud sniffles and coughs followed.

“Why not?” Ella asked from the doorway.

Dora yelled again. Her voice sounded more angry now rather than anything else. “Of all the stupid, hideous, awful things to do! And on a night like this! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!”

A wave of putrid smell rolled up the porch, and Ella gagged.

“A skunk,” Clara said with a howl. “Where did she find a skunk?”

“I threw the slop on it!” Dora sputtered as loud as she could.

“Now I’ve heard everything,” Ella said. “Did it get you?”

“How would I know?” Dora hollered with fury “You want to come out and see?”

“I don’t think so,” Clara said. “I’m stayin’ inside.”

“Someone has to help her,” Ella said, unable to keep the laughter out of her voice.

“It’s
not
funny!” Dora said, fairly bellowing.

“So what do you need?” Ella asked.

“How ’bout a tub of hot water? That would be a start.”

“Out there? How are we supposed to get it outside? It stinks all over in here.”

“How do you think it smells out here?”

“I can’t imagine,” Clara said. “Don’t want to find out either.”

“Get some water heated,” Ella said. “She’ll need a wash.”

“That’ll take a while,” Clara said, hesitating.

“Well, she can’t clean up in cold water.”

Clara went to add wood to the fire while Ella ventured outside. Dora stood on the edge of the garden where the kitchen light reached. Farther into the garden, the darkness was deep and the smell was awful.

“So did it get you?” Ella asked, struggling to breathe.

“Get a flashlight so we have some light. Maybe I can tell then.”

“Clara’s heating water for you. We’ll bring it to the tub in the basement.”

“I can’t go in there with this much smell on me.”

“Maybe the skunk didn’t hit you fully. If it didn’t, you could leave your dress outside.”

“Get the flashlight, then, and another dress and a blanket. I have to be takin’ this dress off as quick as I can.”

Ella left, got the items Dora wanted, and returned. The flashlight revealed no wetness on Dora’s dress.

“Let’s move away from this spot,” Ella said, and when they did the smell decreased.

“I guess it did miss me,” Dora said, her voice low and disgusted.

Ella couldn’t keep from laughing.

“So what do we do now?” Dora asked, coughing loudly.

“Come to the basement steps and take your dress off there. You can go inside then. The smell won’t stay in the house without the dress.”

“That’s what you think. What about on me?”

“We’ll worry about that later. There’s got to be some way of gettin’ it off.”

At the concrete steps, Dora got ready to remove her dress. “Turn out the light,” she said.

“The neighbors have seen girls in their underclothes before.” Ella laughed in spite of the evening.

“They haven’t seen
me,”
Dora retorted.

Ella handed Dora the flashlight, and she shined the light ahead of herself.

“Go on, now,” Ella said. “I’ll bring you a dress and a blanket.”

“Bring a complete change,” Dora said. “I smell all the way through.”

Dora carefully found her way down the steps, her flashlight winked on only at intervals. Ella got a stick to pick up the dress. She carried it over to the wash line, its wire just visible from the kitchen light. Gingerly she held the stick up and draped the dress over the line. Tomorrow her mom could decide how to salvage the smelly thing.

Twenty-three

E
lla let the screen door slam on her way in, the sound snapping in the night stillness.
What time is it? There is a late feel to the air.
A quick glance at the kitchen clock proved it was a little past nine-thirty.