The Lopsided Christmas Cake (9 page)

“Do you need any help with the clothes?” Elma hollered down the basement stairs.

Thelma cupped her hands around her mouth. “Danki anyway, but I’m fine on my own. Keep doing what you’re doing. I’ll be up as soon as I get the clothes hung on the line.”

Thelma watched the clothes agitating for a moment. Then she grabbed the broom and brushed away the cobwebs overhead as she moved around the washroom. Smiling, she was pleased that at least this area was a bit tidier.

Elma had put her notepad away when Thelma came upstairs. “It’s still raining lightly, so we may need our umbrellas.”

“Okay. I’ll get one for each of us.” Thelma went to the utility room and returned with two black umbrellas. She handed one to Elma and opened the back door.

“Looks like it might let up soon,” Elma commented as they headed to the store. “See that blue patch of sky?” She pointed to the east.

“I see that, but even if it quits raining, it feels like it’s going to be a chilly day. Oh, and look who’s following us—Tiger the cat.” Thelma’s umbrella bumped into Elma’s, knocking it out of her hand and onto the ground. “Oops! Sorry about that. Here, take mine.” Thelma handed her umbrella to Elma, and then stepping around her, she grabbed the one that had fallen.

Elma smiled. “Danki. No harm done.”

They stepped onto the porch, and when Elma unlocked the door, she paused. “We’ll be inside most of the day, so we won’t even notice the weather.” She entered the store, and Thelma followed.

“It’s a bit dampish in here.” Thelma rubbed her arms. “I’ve got goose bumps already.”

“Guess one of us should have come out earlier and gotten that little woodstove going.”

“You know what?” Thelma whirled around. “One of us really needs to go out to the phone shack and check for messages.”

“I suppose that would be a good idea,” Elma agreed.

“I’ll go, unless you want to.”

“No, you go ahead. I want to get this stove going so we have some heat in here. Then I need to do more inventory before any customers show up.”

“Okay, I’ll be back soon.”

“Oh, great!” Elma pointed. “You left the door open, and the cat got in. We’d better get him quick before he hides, or we’ll be stuck with that critter in our store all day.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Thelma scooped up the cat and carried him outside, along with her umbrella. “All’s good,” she said before closing the door behind her.

Elma put her umbrella behind the counter and saw a box of starter sticks to get a fire going. She’d also noticed a small pile of wood stacked outside by the side of the store. That must have been where Grandpa kept the wood they used for the stove.

Elma finished lighting a few of the fire sticks she’d put inside the stove and sniffed. Glancing back at the stove, she noticed smoke coming out through the door, and also from the area where the pipe connected. Quickly, she ran to the bathroom and filled a jar with water. Dashing back to the stove, she doused the fire. Luckily, it hadn’t been burning long enough to make the stove or the pipe hot.

Elma wasn’t sure she was doing the right thing, but she detached the pipe where it connected to the stove then twisted it off at the top where it connected to another section that went through the store’s roof. “Let’s see if there’s anything blocking this straight part,” she muttered, holding the pipe up and looking through it. Elma shrieked as an empty bird’s nest fell onto the floor. Instinctively, she looked up the pipe, which was a big mistake. At that instant, a puff of soot swooshed onto her face.

“Ach, no!” Elma sputtered, blowing a cloud of soot off her lips. “Just look at me. And look at my dress!” Running her hands over the front, smearing more dark powdery ash all over the material, all she could do was stand there with her mouth open.

“What happened to you?” Thelma looked stunned as she came into the store.

“I—I started to light the stove, and all this smoke poured out.” Elma swiped the back of her hand over her mouth. “Then, after I put out the fire, I took the pipe off and this fell out.” Holding up the bird’s nest and motioning to her dress, she grimaced. “You can see what happened next.”

Thelma snickered; then her face sobered. “You’d better go back to the house, change out of that dress, and get washed up. While you’re gone, I’ll clean up in here. Hopefully I’ll have it done by the time you get back.”

“Danki, Thelma. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

When Elma returned to the store half an hour later, she was surprised to see Thelma standing behind the counter, smiling. “Surprise! It’s all done.” Thelma pointed to the stove. Not only had Thelma cleaned up the mess, but she had the stovepipe back on and a cozy fire going. “It should warm up quickly now.”

Elma smiled. “Danki. You’re such a big help.”

“By the way, what did you do with your dress?” Thelma asked.

Elma sighed. “It’s soaking in a bucket of water in the utility room. I’m not sure if that poor dress will ever be the same; it’s such a mess. I may replace it with the new dress I still haven’t made. Of course,” she quickly added, “I have other work dresses I can wear.”

“That’s true, and at least this all happened when there were no customers in the store. That could have been quite embarrassing.”

“You’re right.” Elma couldn’t help giggling. She could only imagine how silly she must have looked, standing there with soot all over her while holding a bird’s nest.

“Guess we’d better get busy,” Thelma said.

Elma picked up a tablet, preparing to write down whatever needed to be ordered. She’d only made it to the first aisle, when Thelma came by. “I forgot to tell you. When I went to the phone shack I saw someone across the street looking at the house that’s for sale.”

“Are they Amish or English?”

“Amish. I saw them walking around the yard, and I noticed that the woman’s skirt is pleated.” Thelma’s forehead wrinkled. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen an Amish woman’s dress with pleats.”

“She’s probably from the Graybill area,” Elma said. “Didn’t someone tell us that many of the Amish women who live there wear skirts like that?”

Thelma tipped her head. “I can’t remember… maybe.” She frowned, brushing at some stray cat hairs on her sweater. “Tiger can sure shed. Guess when I find the time I’ll have to brush him again.”

“That may help some, but it’ll be a constant chore. One more reason I don’t like having cats indoors.”

Thelma shrugged. “Anyway, it will be nice if we get new neighbors soon. I’ll be anxious to get acquainted.”

“You’ll have plenty of time for that if they buy the house.”

“That’s true.”

“By the way, were there any important messages?” Elma asked.

“Not a one.” Thelma snapped her fingers. “Guess I should have checked for mail when I went to the phone shack. I’ll do that now.”

Thelma was almost to the mailbox when she noticed Mary Lambright riding past on her bike. Her little boy Richard was in a child’s seat on the back. Thelma hollered a greeting to them and waved. Mary and Richard waved back. It had quit raining, but the roads were slightly wet.

Smiling, Thelma stepped up to the box. She was about to reach inside, when she heard a horn honk, followed by the spine-tingling sound of brakes squealing—then a bloodcurdling scream. Thelma rushed out and looked up the road. Mary and Richard lay sprawled on the ground, next to the bike. With her heart in her throat, Thelma dashed to the accident.
Please, God, let them be all right.

T
helma dropped to her knees beside Mary and Richard. The driver of the car, a young woman, got out and rushed over. “Oh, my! Are either of you hurt?” The woman’s voice trembled as she knelt next to Thelma.

“I’m all right—just a few scrapes on my knees and hands,” Mary said. “But I’m worried about my little boy.” She gestured to Richard, still strapped in his seat at the back of her bike, sobbing and holding his gravel-embedded arm.

“This was my fault,” the woman said. “I shouldn’t have honked the horn when I saw your bike.”

Thelma winced when she saw the way Richard’s arm was twisted. “I think his arm is broken,” she whispered to Mary. “We have to get him out of that seat. You’ll need to take him to the medical clinic and have it X-rayed.”

Mary’s fingers trembled as she struggled with the safety strap.

“Here, let me try,” Thelma offered.

“We can cut the strap with the scissors I have in my purse,” the English woman said. “I can call 911 or drive you there. I’ll call my boss and let him know I’m gonna be late for work.”

Mary nodded. “I’d appreciate the scissors—and a ride to the clinic.”

Thelma cut the strap away, and Mary took her son out of the seat. Gathering her son carefully into her arms, Mary said, “It’ll be okay, son. The doctor will take good care of you.”

While the young woman made the phone call, Thelma held Richard, and Mary climbed into the backseat of the car. Then Thelma gingerly handed the boy to his mother. It was hard seeing the little tyke grimace in pain.

“I’ll take your bike to my place, and someone from your family can pick it up later on.” Thelma spoke in a reassuring tone.

Tears gathered in Mary’s eyes. “Danki, Elma. My husband, Dan, is at work right now, and my
mamm
‘s home with our other son, Philip. It probably won’t be till sometime this evening that Dan can come by with our market wagon to pick up my bike.”

Thelma was on the verge of correcting Mary, but right now it didn’t matter that the woman had mixed her up with Elma. She was used to that. Even some people back home who had known them for years couldn’t tell the twins apart. The only thing that mattered was getting Richard’s arm looked at. “This evening will be fine. Mary, if you’ll give me your address, I’ll go to your house and let your mamm know what’s happened so she doesn’t worry because you haven’t returned home.”

“That would be most appreciated.” Mary’s voice was full of emotion.

Thelma gave Mary’s arm a tender squeeze. “I’ll be praying for Richard.”

“Danki.” Mary dabbed at the tears on her pale cheeks; then she reached into her purse and took out a notepad and pen. After she wrote down the address, she tore off a piece of paper and handed it to Thelma. “Please tell my mamm not to worry but to pray that Richard’s arm does not have a serious break.”

“I will,” Thelma promised. “And I’ll be praying myself.”