A Wedding Quilt for Ella (22 page)

In the morning and after chores and breakfast, Mamm left with Mrs. Adams to go to the hospital. They took the backseat of the van out and spread blankets on the floor in case Eli would need to lie down on the trip home.

“If it’s needed,” Mamm had said. “It’s better to be prepared than to expect Eli to sit up all the way home if he’s in pain.”

Ella fluffed up the bed one final time and then moved out to the garden to work. She kept watching for the van, and when it pulled into the driveway a little before twelve, Eli was sitting upright on the front bench seat, his face somewhere between a grimace from the pain and happiness to be home again. Ella ran to the van as Eli eased himself to the ground. She would have given him a hug, but he held her back with a raised hand.

“I can barely walk,” he whispered.

“You do look
gut,
though,” Ella said. “So much better than when I saw you last.”

Eli nodded and then grimaced when he stepped forward.

Dora, at work in the basement on the last load of wash, didn’t see anyone until she saw them walk past the window. She shrieked and raced up the steps to open the front door.

“So you’re not dead,” she said, a broad smile on her face.

“Close enough,” Eli said as he hobbled painfully inside. “Show me some place I can lay down.”

“You’re in the guest bedroom,” Mamm said. “You won’t be climbin’ any stairs for a while.”

“That’s nice,” he said, grinning. “It makes me feel special.”

“You’d better get well pretty quick,” Dora said. “We need you around here so don’t go feelin’
too
special.”

“I’ll be glad enough to get rid of all this,” Eli said, lifting his shirt to show them the white strips taped around his torso. He turned around slowly so they could see the supports went all the way around his body.

Ella led the way and held the bedroom door open for him. Eli lowered himself gently onto the bed and sighed.

“My my” he said, “it is good to be home, and now I want around-the-clock service, all sisters at my beck and call. I want water, candy, and food when I need it and no questions asked. Is everyone understandin’ that?”

“You low-down rascal,” Dora said, “I do think the hospital has gone and spoiled you already. I think you need to get out and plow the fields. Do you really expect us to obey you hand and foot? I’d say a good day’s work in the field would be what you’re really needin’.”

“How soon the sun hides behind a cloud,” he said, grinning. “I thought you felt sorry for me.”

“Not
that
sorry,” she said. “I now have the wash to finish in the basement, my weak, frail, little brother.”

“So I will be dyin’ at home in my own bed,” he mourned, his body stretched out in hopelessness on the bed.

Ella laughed and left to get him a glass of water. She could hear her mother give him a long lecture on the care of his broken ribs, instructions she apparently had gotten from the hospital. She even went so far as to read them off a paper she had brought home.

“Don’t run or climb stairs. Don’t cough unless you have to. Have someone help you into and out of bed.”

Ella couldn’t help but laugh. Eli was not going to like any of this, but at least he was alive. He did look the picture of despair when she walked back in with the glass of water.

“This recovery is goin’ to take years,” he said, moaning. “Years and years, and I can’t even go outside for a good week by Mamm’s instructions, mind you. How am I supposed to get better with no sunshine? What is life worth if you have to spend it all inside the house? At least let me go out to the barn when they do chores. I could sit and watch.”

‘You will do no such thing,” Mamm hollered from outside the bedroom. “We’ve already brought you home sooner than the doctor wanted us to. We don’t need you injuring yourself and returning to the hospital because of your foolishness.”

Eli groaned at a new thought. “How are we gonna pay for this anyway? The bill has got to be thousands of dollars, and that’s just for the hospital bill. Why didn’t you just let me die out there? It was my fault I tried to run across the barnyard all to save a little time. I knew the bull was pretty upset that night.”

“That’s an awful thing to be sayin’,” Mamm said. “Life is a great gift, and
Da Hah
takes and
Da Hah
gives it—not us. Don’t you ever think something like that again.”

Eli glanced at Ella. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. Aden didn’t have any choice in the matter, did he?”

“It’s okay,” she said, patting his arm. “We’re just glad you’re back, safe and sound.”

He laid back, limp on the bed, and groaned again. “It just hurts all over. Each breath causes pain.”

“You’ll be better in no time,” Mamm said, her voice cheerful now. ‘I’m out in the kitchen, and Ella and Dora will be around somewhere all day. We’ll be checkin’ on you. You just holler when you need something.”

“It’s almost lunchtime,” Ella said. “You’ve got to be hungry, yah?”

“I’d be if I could swallow,” he said, holding his ribs. “It was horrible stuff they served in the hospital. Because it hurt so bad to swallow, I only ate a little and didn’t care so much. Now here I am with good food and wanting to eat a lot but too hurt to eat.”

“Now don’t go feelin’ sorry for yourself,” Mamm said. “Stay in here, and I mean it. No trips to the barn, just the necessities like the bathroom. The walkin’ you’ve already done today has been hard enough.”

He grimaced one final time as they all left the room. Ella made and brought an egg salad sandwich—Eli’s favorite—from the kitchen. His eyes lit up with delight.

“Oh, you’ll be spoilin’ me now. Oh, ye ribs, please let me eat,” he said, groaning and slowly sitting up in bed.

“Put this over you,” Ella said, getting him to lean back and shaking a linen bed sheet out across his lap. “I just cleaned these sheets.”

“My mouth waters. My eyes are a achin’,” Eli said. With a look of bliss on his face, he bit into the sandwich. A swallow was followed by a muffled howl of pain, but he proceeded to take another bite.

“You don’t
have
to eat it.”

“Oh, but I do,” he said, his voice solemn. “I have to get well. I can’t stay in this bed forever.”

Ella had turned to go when he asked, “Is Mamm out in the kitchen?”

“Yah, do you need her?”

He shook his head, and Ella moved toward the door.

“Ella, I have to tell you somethin’.”

Ella paused and then returned to his bedside when she saw the serious look on his face.

“I met this girl…in the hospital. An
Englisha
girl. She took care of me sometimes. She lives north of here.”

“So? They have lots of nurses in hospitals.”

“Not like this one. She was just like one of our own people.”

“She’s an
Englisha”
Ella looked sharply at him.

Eli bit into his sandwich and chewed slowly. “What would you say if she stops by.”

“But we can’t pay for nurses.”

“We don’t have to. She’d be stoppin’ by to see me. Only don’t tell anyone. Mamm will have a fit if she even thinks it’s more than a friendly checkup.”

“Now wait a minute.” Ella put both hands on the bed. “You didn’t fall for this girl, did you?”

He grinned weakly and nodded. “I like her…more than I’ve ever liked any girl.”

“She was there to take care of you,” Ella said. “She was a nurse. Surely it didn’t mean anything.”

“Maybe or maybe not,” he said.

“Well, if it’s true, then I suggest you get over it fast.”

He met her eyes, and she knew at once that her words were in vain.

“You’ll be seein’ when she gets here,” he said, “how nice and plain she is.”

“So when is she comin’? Will she just walk in here?”

“I told her she could stop by when she wanted to. I told her to tell whoever came to the door that she was one of my nurses from the hospital here to see me. Perfectly normal thing, I would say. Only it’s not perfectly normal. I think I’m going to ask to see her once I’m well—in friendship.”

Ella regained some of her composure. “Nurses are friendly because they’re supposed to be. That’s part of taking care of you. That’s all.”

“Like I said, maybe or maybe not.” Eli finished the last bite of his sandwich. “I just wanted at least one person to know about this, and I knew I could trust you.”

“Well, all I can say is don’t be heartbroken when she doesn’t come,” Ella said. “Just thank the good Lord you have a decent home to return to, a nice family to take care of you, and a church that watches for your soul.”

“I
am
thankful,” he said, weariness in his voice and sleepiness in his eyes.

She left him alone. Surely a few days of rest and good food would restore him. What imagination he had and what nerve to invite a nurse home for a visit.

“Is he okay?” Mamm asked.

“I think so,” Ella said, trying to smile. “He ate his sandwich, and he’s tryin’ to sleep now.”

Her mom nodded and looked relieved.

Twenty-seven

S
upper was over, darkness had fallen, and the gas lantern now hissed above the kitchen table.

“It’s time for evening prayers,” Daett said, “and we will have them in Eli’s bedroom.”

Chairs scraped on the hardwood floors as they got up and gathered around Eli’s bed. Mamm and Dora brought in chairs so they could kneel.

“Our great God in heaven,” Daett prayed, kneeling now, “You who see all things and order the affairs of men, we thank You for Your mercy to us and that Eli has been spared. We ask that You would continue to protect us from evil, from sin, and from the world. Have mercy upon us weak and frail human beings made from the mere dust of the earth. You know that we blow over like the grass in the fields at the faintest brush of Your hand. Remember us, we pray, that we perish not from the face of the earth. Do not forget us in Your great anger. And we give You thanks for the blood of Your Son, Jesus Christ, who washes away our sins. Amen.”

Afterward, Eli had tears in his eyes as he whispered, “I’m in pain.”

“Da Hah
will take you through this,” Daett said. “He has spared you, and He will allow your body to be healin’ again.”

“If it be His will,” Mamm added with a note of caution, “but we are hoping it is.”

Eli nodded and then asked, “Isn’t it time for my pill again? Then I’ll see if I can sleep for the night.”

Dora brought him the bottle of prescription pills that Mamm had bought in town. With the kerosene lamp turned low, they left him alone. Mamm would check on him throughout the night.

Ella went up the stairs quietly and settled slowly on the bed. Eli’s information about the nurse troubled her. Eli could not allow himself to get entangled with an
Englisha
girl.

She jumped up at the sound of a buggy pulling into the driveway. What would someone want this late at night? It could mean only one thing—there was trouble somewhere. Ella opened the door into the hallway.

Dora already had her head out of her bedroom door. “Did someone just drive in?”

“Yah. You goin’ down?”

“You think it’s trouble?”

“I hope not,” Ella said. Yet a caller at this hour must surely mean trouble somewhere.

“Maybe someone wants to borrow from Daett,” Dora offered.

“This time of the night? I’m goin’ down,” Ella said, her foot finding the first step in the dark, her bedroom door shut behind her.

“I’ve heard enough of dark troubles to last me a good long time,” Dora said. “Tell me if it’s really bad. Otherwise I’m going to sleep.” Dora’s door clicked shut behind her.

Mamm was at the front door when she got downstairs, the guest bedroom door shut.

“Who is it?” Ella whispered.

“Looks like Uncle Mose’s buggy. I can’t tell for sure, but Daett’s already outside.”

Ella stood beside her mom as they opened the front door and listened to the rise and fall of male voices beside the buggy. She couldn’t make out what they said, and the tone gave no clue either. There was no laughter or mirth, but that didn’t narrow things down much. Mose could simply be interested in Eli’s condition. Why hadn’t she thought of this before?

“Eli’s just home,” she whispered. “Mose is askin’ about him.”

“I thought of that,” Mamm said, “but why isn’t he comin’ inside?”

“Maybe because it’s so late.”

“Here Daett comes now.” Mamm stepped onto the porch as the buggy left.

Daett approached in the darkness, his form barely visible. When he stepped into the faint light from the living room window, Ella saw his face outlined with concern. Surely the news was not good.

“There was an accident just now out on the state road,” Daett said, his voice troubled. “Mose’s boy and the girl he was with were on their way home from Randolph. A car came across the road from the other way and didn’t see their dark buggy, I guess.”

“Are they okay?” Mamm asked.

“David is. Mose said he went along to the hospital, but his girlfriend’s hurt. He just came from telling her parents. I suppose they’ll go down tonight, yet.”

“Ach,” Mamm said, holding the door open for Noah, “is this never going to stop?”

“It does seem we’ve had a lot lately,” Daett said.
“Da Hah’s
hand is heavy on us, but He knows what He’s doin’. Mose said they would let us know of anything new.”

“Who’s David dating?” Ella asked, unable to remember seeing him with anyone on a regular basis. She knew her cousin fairly well, even though he lived two districts over.

“Menno Beachy’s daughter,” her mom said, “Melissa. She’s nineteen or so.”

“How badly was she hurt?” Ella asked. Surely this would not be another parting of a couple like Aden and she had been through. David and Melissa were younger, but the pain would be just as real.

“Mose didn’t know,” her dad said. “The ambulance took her to Tri-County.”

“You mustn’t worry,” Mamm said, taking Ella’s arm. “There’s nothing you can do anyway, and we must leave these things in
Da Hah’s
hand.”

“What if she dies?” Ella whispered.