For a long time we lay like that. Once, Delores peeked in, but she went right back out. The house was so quiet. I hoped all the children were asleep.
I knew I should be doing something. Making mullein and nettle tea, at the very least. But I wasn’t sure that anything would help Samuel more than just doing what he wanted, just staying right here. Soon the rhythm of his breathing changed, and I knew he was asleep. A good, hearty, restful sleep, I hoped. A normal sleep.
I kissed his cheek. Then I sat up slowly. He looked so peaceful. I hoped Robert and George and all the rest were peaceful by now. I hoped everything was all right.
In a few minutes, I went back to the kitchen, thinking that I might put on Samuel’s medicine tea in case he’d take it when he woke up. I wasn’t sure if I should finish what I’d started, washing him and looking him over, or just let him sleep a while first.
“You want coffee?” Delores asked me.
“Yes, thank you.”
“How’s he doin’?”
“I don’t know.” I stopped, feeling an uncomfortable churn of emotion inside me. “Oh, Delores, he’s hurting, I know he is. I’m just not sure what to do . . .”
She came and hugged me, then she sat me in a chair. “Do you think he has bones broken?”
“Not that I could tell, but his head . . . I just don’t know how bad . . .”
“Is he talking like himself?”
“Yes.”
“Then he’s gonna be fine. You jus’ believe for that, honey.”
I knew what she was saying. And she was surely right. But inside me the nagging doubts still lingered. What if he wasn’t fine? Sometimes, with a head wound, it was just so hard to tell. And what about his side?
Delores set a cup of coffee in front of me, but I almost couldn’t drink it. This night would change some things for George Hammond. That was clear. But what about us?
Sarah
Katie and me lay on the floor because Georgie and Emmie were on our bed. It was almost morning. I kept expecting to see light through the window, but it was still dark. I couldn’t sleep for thinking about what had happened. And I guess I wasn’t the only one. Katie rolled over after I thought she was already asleep and just stared at the ceiling for a while.
“What if Dad had died?” she asked me with something strange and trembly in her voice.
“He didn’t,” I answered crossly. “There’s no use talking about something like that.”
For the first time in a very long time it bothered me that she’d called him Dad. He wasn’t her dad. He was only her cousin or something. Never mind that our family had taken her in when she was only six and he’d been a dad to her ever since. It upset me anyway.
“Sarah, I’m glad I wasn’t there,” she whispered. “I would’ve been scared half to pieces.”
“Well, I was scared too. Anybody would be.”
“Do you think he’ll be all right?”
“Of course he will. Mom said so.”
“I know. But she’s more worried than she wants to let on. I think it’s serious, getting knocked in the head like that.”
Of course it was. Any fool knew that. I wanted her to shut up. I wanted to tell her to. But I couldn’t be that mean. “Go to sleep. I don’t want to talk about it.”
She lay there quiet for a while, and I hoped she’d done what I said. Little Georgie giggled at something in his sleep.
He just doesn’t know,
I thought.
There’s nothing to laugh at tonight.
“Do you think one of them went to check on the animals and spilled their lantern over?” Katie suddenly asked.
“How should I know?” I scolded. “I wasn’t there when it started.” She rolled over just a little to face me, but I didn’t look her way. “I wish I had been,” I said under my breath then, but she heard me.
“How could things have been different if you were?” she asked. “There was no way we could know it was going to happen.”
“At least I could’ve been watching.” I felt a sudden tightness inside me, like somebody was squeezing as hard as they could on my stomach.
Dumb fool!
a voice in my head raged.
You could’ve done more than watch! You could’ve seen to it that Lester Turrey never came! It was probably him who spilled a lantern, after coming nearly two miles in the dark!
“I don’t think there was anything anybody could’ve done,” Katie said softly. “We wouldn’t have known what to watch for.”
She didn’t say anything else, and I was glad. I felt pretty miserable just lying there.
Why don’t you tell her?
I kept thinking.
Why don’t you go tell Mom? Why are you still keeping your stupid promise?
I had no answer, but I couldn’t seem to make myself say anything more. For a little while there wasn’t a sound except the rain and Emma Grace’s breathing. But then in the distance I thought I heard a truck. It got closer pretty quickly. I sat up.
“That’s Robert,” Katie said, getting up too. “I hope he has good news.”
There won’t be much of that,
I thought. Even with the fire out. I knew the Hammonds had lost a lot, and that meant we’d have less too, ’cause we always shared everything.
Georgie’d rolled so much on the bed that he had one leg hanging over. I got up and pushed him farther up. Then I covered him and Emmie and headed for the stairs.
Maybe it didn’t matter how the fire got started. Maybe it wouldn’t matter if I never told what I knew about Rorey. If it was her fault, she’d probably already learned her lesson. And surely nobody would care about having someone to blame.
I hurried down the stairs. I wanted to hear Robert tell us the fire was out. I wanted to know how bad it had gotten after we had left. I could hear Katie behind me, but I didn’t wait for her.
Robert was just coming in the back door as I got to the kitchen. I expected him to be alone, but he wasn’t. I guess I should’ve known that Mr. Hammond might send his younger boys over here along with him. Franky and Harry. They spent a lot of time at our house anyway. But what about Rorey? She was younger than Franky.
“How’s Dad?” Robert asked right away.
“Sleeping,” Mom told him. She looked so tired. I wished I knew something to do about it. Robert looked tired too. Drenched to the bone and muddy to boot. But nothing like Franky. Franky looked like he could fall over.
“Sit down,” Mom told them all. “Let me get you something to eat. You’ve been working so hard. Is the fire out?”
“It looks out,” Harry answered. “But Pa an’ Willy an’ Kirk are stayin’ put just to be sure.”
“Mom,” Robert persisted. “Is he really okay? Is it really just sleep?”
Mom stopped in her tracks for a minute. She saw me in the doorway and glanced my way but turned quickly back to Robert. Franky was the only one to sit down.
“I believe it’s good sleep,” Mom said. “I believe he’ll be all right. But once you’ve had a chance to sit a minute and get a bite or two, I’d thank you to go inquire after the doctor, in case he heard Delores was here and thinks we might not need him. It just serves us well to be cautious.”
Robert took her very seriously. “I can go now, Mom. I don’t have to wait.”
“No. Let me at least get you a sandwich to take along. And maybe you ought to have company, to keep you awake. Would you be up to that, Franky?”
I knew Franky well enough to know that despite how he felt, he wasn’t likely to tell her no. But before he got a chance to say anything, Robert was answering for him.
“No, Mom. Not Franky. I didn’t even want to bring him here. I sure don’t want him along no further. Besides, he’s hurt.”
“Hurt?” Mom jumped on that one word and was immediately at Franky’s side. But I stared at my brother. It wasn’t like Robert to sound so hard. Franky wasn’t his best friend, that was true. But he
was
a friend. Practically a brother, for all the time Franky spent with our folks. Why wouldn’t Robert want to bring him?
“What’s happened?” Mom was questioning Franky. “Where are you hurt?”
“I’m all right,” Franky answered her. But I knew he wasn’t, and so did Mom. She noticed the filthy old hanky around his hand at the same time I did. She lifted his arm gently, but he started to pull away.
“Quit acting so tough,” Robert said harshly. “Let ’em doctor you. You know that’s why your pa sent you. That and getting you out of his sight for a while.”
Mom looked really angry. “Robert John! No matter what kind of night we’ve had, you’re not to speak like that! What has gotten into you?”
“It was his fault, Mom,” Robert said, with something awfully raw in his voice. “They lost the barn and a whole lot else, and the house is damaged, and we almost lost Dad—”
His words struck at me deep. “It—it doesn’t have to be somebody’s fault!” I cried without thinking.
“You don’t know what their pa said,” Robert answered me right back.
“Sarah’s right,” Mom interrupted. “There’s no use pointing fingers. Accidents happen.”
I couldn’t believe how calm she sounded. I couldn’t have said another word right then. But Franky? How could it be? Had he followed Rorey tonight too? Had he fought with Lester again? I wanted to ask him. I wanted to demand that he tell me, but I just stood there half choked.
Mom took hold of Franky’s hand and asked him to let her see. She turned her eyes to me only for a second. “Sarah, get your brother and Harry a couple of sandwiches.”
“Yes, Mom,” I managed to answer her. I felt like I was shaking. I hoped nobody could tell.
“I could ride to the doctor with Robert,” Katie suddenly offered. “I’m sure I’m not as tired as Harry or Frank.” I hadn’t even realized she was that close behind me.
Mom nodded. That was all. And for a minute I thought I should have offered, but I was glad I hadn’t. I would rather stay here, because Daddy was here. I didn’t want to be gone for a minute.
Another truck came hurrying up our lane, and I wasn’t sure who to expect. Thelma’s brother, maybe. Mrs. Pratt came in the room then, took one look at Franky’s hand, and reached for some water.
“You get a nail in it, honey? Best soak it some to draw out the poison.”
Franky didn’t say anything, only obediently stuck his hand down into the water. I wondered how much worse this night could get. Robert had said they’d lost a lot and the house was damaged. How bad was it?
Harry moved to the door and opened it before whoever it was had a chance to knock. Thelma’s brother Richard came in from the porch, followed closely by Mr. Post.
“How’s Samuel?” Mr. Post asked right away.
“He’s sleeping, Barrett,” Mom said softly. “I’m glad you both are here. I was going to send Robert for the doctor, but I’d feel better about it if one of you went along.”
I expected Robert to say something about that. But he didn’t. Neither did Katie, though if Mr. Post or Richard went, it wasn’t likely she’d need to.
“Is he in the bed?” Mr. Post asked.
“Yes,” Mom answered him.
“You mind if I go in and see him a minute?”
Mom shook her head. She looked so tired. But she got up and went with him. I wanted to go too, but she’d given me a job. Delores was seeing to Franky. I had to hurry up and make those sandwiches, and it’d be the right thing to feed Mr. Post and Richard Pratt something too, since they’d been helping. And Franky, if he could eat right now. Mom had only been looking at his one hand. But now Mrs. Pratt was looking over both of them.
“I think you got burns on this other hand,” she told him. “Not bad, but it hurts, don’t it?”
I didn’t hear his answer; I was hurrying to lift the cellar door in the pantry off the kitchen. But I saw his face before I took off down the steps. A nail in his hand, Mrs. Pratt had said. And burns. I wondered if any of that happened while he was helping pull my daddy out of the rubble.
But there was no time to think of it. I needed the butter from the cool pit. And there were three or four hard-boiled eggs left from what Mom had cooked up to send to school with us last morning. I’d make egg sandwiches. So I’d need some pickles off the shelf too. Katie came with me, even though I didn’t ask her to. But she knew what I was about.
“Do you think we ought to open a jar of green beans?” she asked me. “Or some blackberry preserves?”
“I’m not taking the time to cook any beans,” I told her. “We need something they can take right along with them on the way to the doctor so we don’t slow ’em down any. But I don’t know why they don’t just go. They could eat when they get back.”
“Mom knows they must be hungry after fighting the fire all night,” she said as she caught up to me at the bottom of the cellar steps. “Wouldn’t you be?”
“No. I’m not a bit hungry, and I don’t think staying over there would have made me hungry, either.”
“Sarah—”
“You get the preserves and some pickles. I’m going to get the butter and eggs and a little milk. It’s a good thing Lizbeth brought us some extra bread.”
Katie didn’t say another word, and neither did I. I just hurried as fast as I could, pulling the basket of perishable food up from Emma Graham’s old cool pit in the corner of the cellar room. Mom was glad to have the cool pit. Even though times were not as hard for us as they’d been when we first came to Mrs. Graham’s house, we still couldn’t afford an icebox. Maybe we’d never get one.
We hurried back up the stairs, and Katie started cutting bread while I peeled the eggs. Then she was chopping pickles while I mashed eggs in milk with some pepper and sugar. Soon we had some passable egg salad, and I started spreading it on bread.
Richard was in the other room with his sister and the baby. Mom and Mr. Post came back in the kitchen pretty soon, and she got him a drink of water. I wished they would talk about Dad a little, but they didn’t. They didn’t say anything at all, and it bothered me terrible.
Then Richard came back in the room, and Mr. Post moved for the door.
“We best be goin’,” he said. “Richard, your mama’s gonna be here a while. You mind takin’ Robert in to see about Dr. Howell? I’m gonna go over t’ home and fetch Mrs. Wortham a chunk or two a’ ice outta what’s left in the icebox, an’ I hope it’ll do some good.”
“All right,” Richard said. I knew him to be almost twenty-three, but right then he looked older, and paler, than I’d ever seen him. “You ready, Robert?”
“Wait a minute,” Mrs. Pratt interrupted. “Where’s Thelma’s Sam? If the fire’s out, why ain’t he come back?”