Sophie's Dilemma (35 page)

‘‘She is sure a couple are broken, and others may be cracked. The explosion must have thrown you against something.’’

‘‘A desk maybe. I woke up on the floor under a pile of debris.’’ He kept his voice to a whisper, hoping to keep from coughing. It didn’t help much. Coughing cut him in half.

When he could he let his mind rove. ‘‘You said
we
?’’

‘‘Mrs. Sam, Lemuel, and I took turns.’’

He nodded, just enough to realize that wasn’t a good idea either. Actually, not moving at all seemed the best plan.

‘‘Are you hungry?’’

‘‘No.’’

‘‘Doctor said you had to drink.’’

‘‘Later.’’ He paused. ‘‘How many died?’’

‘‘Two in the fire, one is failing, and Dr. Elizabeth said if she can beat the pneumonia—that mostly follows smoke inhalation—the others will live. We’re all praying.’’

His eyes closed whether he wanted them to or not, and he slept again.

‘‘Is it night?’’ he asked Sophie the next time he woke.

‘‘No, but we had to board up your window. Most of the windows on this side of the building were blown out in the blast.’’

‘‘Have you been here all the time?’’

‘‘No, we take turns.’’

While a deep breath hurt like sabers slashing, shallow breaths weren’t so bad. His throat felt gravelly but not on fire. ‘‘I’m hungry.’’

‘‘Good. We have soup hot. I’ll get it.’’

He watched her leave the room. How long had he been out? ‘‘What day is it?’’ he asked when she returned.

‘‘Wednesday. The explosion happened on Monday.’’

‘‘And the men?’’

‘‘One more died.’’

‘‘And the other two, or was it three?’’

‘‘It looks like they’ll make it, at least if Dr. Elizabeth has anything to say about it.’’ She spooned rich beef soup into his mouth.

He swallowed carefully. ‘‘I think I need another pillow.’’

‘‘I’ll get one.’’ Returning in a moment, she gently lifted his head and pushed the pillow in place. ‘‘The doctor said you were lucky you didn’t have more cuts with all the glass flying.’’ She dipped another spoonful.

At least I am alive. Thank you, God, I am alive
.

‘‘Knock, knock. I’m here to check on my patient.’’ Dr. Elizabeth smiled as she entered the room. ‘‘Now this is what I like to see, a man taking sustenance. How are you feeling?’’

‘‘Some better, I’m sure. Not coughing all the time anyway.’’ While he spoke slowly and carefully, he could at least talk.

‘‘You need to take deep breaths.’’ She demonstrated a slow deep breath. ‘‘I know, I know. You think I’m a sadist, but you don’t need a bout with pneumonia. So far so good. No fever. So in spite of how much it hurts, breathe as deeply as you can.’’ She turned to Sophie. ‘‘Give him plenty of pillows. The more upright he is, the easier on the lungs.’’

‘‘Anything else?’’

‘‘No, but no heavy lifting for you, Sophie.’’ She turned to Garth. ‘‘When you need to get up, you call Lemuel and let him help you.’’

‘‘I will.’’

‘‘And for those ribs—it just takes time. The sooner you are on your feet the better, but no races or lifting for you either. The pain will let you know what you can do. I’ve left more syrup here for you. Take it as needed.’’

‘‘Thank you.’’

‘‘You are indeed welcome.’’

‘‘And my men?’’

‘‘The two in my surgery, barring any changes, will make it. I’m sorry for the others. They found one body and . . .’’ Her voice softened. ‘‘And most of the other.’’

‘‘I see.’’

‘‘Pastor Solberg wants to come see you.’’

‘‘Later please. I can hardly keep my eyes open.’’

‘‘You eat and sleep again. I’ll tell him.’’ She patted Sophie’s shoulder as she passed by. ‘‘And you make sure you get enough sleep too, young lady. That baby needs a mother who’s gotten plenty of rest.’’

‘‘Yes, ma’am.’’ Sophie felt like saluting. Dr. Elizabeth was good at giving orders.

‘‘More soup?’’

He took a few bites. ‘‘Enough. Thank you.’’ He was asleep before she reached the doorway.

The next day he sat in the chair, and the next he walked into the dining room for dinner. While there weren’t a lot of guests eating, those who were gave him hearty applause.

He collapsed into a chair and shook his head. Dr. Elizabeth was right to a point. She said no racing, but he should walk. Why did he feel like he’d run a mile and gotten beat upon with a club the whole way?

Sadness sat upon Blessing like a cloud.

Sophie caught herself staring at the wall—again. Three men dead. One minute they were working, doing the things needed to be done in the mill, and the next they were gone. No, that isn’t quite right, she reminded herself. One man took another day to die, and she could still hear his screams. How terrible must the pain have been to make a big man scream like that?

Even though Pastor Solberg had gone around talking with the families and the others in town, she couldn’t get her mind around it. That, along with the miasma that seeped into every corner of the buildings. If someone laughed, they quit because laughter seemed out of place. Instead of making the load lighter, it cut like slivers from the piece of obsidian her father had on the shelf at home, cuts so fine one didn’t realize until the blood dripped from a finger. The fog was black too, but surely light could sneak through. Or did it only bounce off and go another way?

No matter that spring had come to the prairie.

Hamre had died. She understood that, but she’d not been right next to it like she was here. She mopped the tears she didn’t realize were falling—again. The screams, the horrible agony, it had taken forever for the last man to die.

A knock at her door caught her attention. ‘‘Come in.’’ If only no one would come in, if she could hide out here, cover the window, seal off the door so the fog would have to go away.

‘‘Sophie?’’

‘‘Oh, Mor.’’ Sophie pushed herself up out of her chair and ran to throw herself into her mother’s arms. ‘‘How did you know I needed you so badly?’’

‘‘You could have come home.’’

‘‘I can’t leave the boardinghouse.’’

‘‘What do you mean, you can’t—’’ ‘‘The fog. I’d get lost. I can’t see, I . . .’’ Her words slipped into incoherent sobs. ‘‘And Hamre.’’ She burrowed closer. ‘‘The men.’’

Kaaren eased her daughter to the bed and sat the two of them on the edge, murmuring mother comfort and stroking her daughter’s back. ‘‘Go ahead and cry it all out.’’ When the tears finally subsided, Kaaren fetched a cloth from behind the screen, dipped it in the basin, and after wringing it out, wiped her daughter’s face. ‘‘Now you lie back here’’— she fluffed up the pillows and stacked them—‘‘and tell me all that’s been going through your mind.’’ After getting Sophie comfortable, she sat beside her and held her hand.

‘‘Hamre’s gone.’’

‘‘I know.’’

‘‘And the men at the mill.’’

‘‘Um-hmm.’’

‘‘Mother, it’s not fair.’’

‘‘No, it’s not. We all think we’ll live to get old like Bridget and Henry, but that’s not always true.’’

Silence except for sniffs held for a time.

‘‘Did God do this?’’

‘‘Some would say He did, and some would say Satan did it.’’

‘‘But which is right?’’

‘‘Do you believe God is who He says He is?’’

‘‘Of course. Since I was little you taught us that.’’

‘‘The Bible teaches us that. We read of His promises over and over. He said, ‘I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.’ ’’ ‘‘Then why did they die?’’

‘‘He also said that He will walk with us, will carry us when we walk through the valley of the shadow of death. Death came into the world when sin did.’’

‘‘But God could have stopped it.’’

‘‘Yes, He could have. But one thing He cannot do is stop loving us.

He promised.’’

‘‘Funny kind of love.’’

‘‘Seems that way at times. These are the hard questions of life, and we don’t know why things happen the way they do. But we can trust Him to take care of us.’’

‘‘I know Hamre is in heaven.’’

‘‘Good. Would you want him back here when heaven is our real home?’’

Sophie shook her head slowly but with tears seeping again. ‘‘I used to miss him terribly and now sometimes I can’t even see his face.’’

‘‘That’s part of the healing God is giving you. You won’t forget him. The good memories stay around forever, but now you go on with your life, asking God every day to show you the way.’’

‘‘I don’t do that very well.’’ Sophie stared up into the love in her mother’s face.

‘‘You can learn to.’’

‘‘You do it.’’

‘‘I know. I’ve been learning a long time. When Carl and our two little girls died that winter, all I wanted was to die too. But God and Ingeborg wouldn’t let me. And if I had died, I would never have had you and Grace. Look what we would have missed.’’ Again the silence, only this time it felt lighter, like sun beginning to burn the fog away and peeping through the gray shreds.

‘‘What if my baby dies?’’

‘‘We’ll do everything we can to see that that doesn’t happen. You are good and strong, and we will all be praying for the baby to be born easily and healthy.’’

‘‘I think God listens to you more than to me.’’

‘‘Maybe you need to learn to listen to Him.’’

Sophie thought about what her mother said. Her eyes felt as if sand had been thrown in them. She sighed, one of many. ‘‘Life is hard, huh?’’

‘‘Yes, at times.’’

‘‘Mr. Wiste is getting better.’’ She almost called him Garth but restrained herself.

‘‘As are the other men.’’

‘‘I should get up and go help with dinner.’’

‘‘In a while. You lie here and rest, and I’ll go make us some tea.’’

Sophie heard the door click behind her mother. ‘‘Lord, thank you for my mor.’’

She must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew, she heard the clink of cups and saucers on the tea tray and smelled tea and cinnamon. When she opened her eyes, her mother handed her a warm washcloth.

‘‘This will help your eyes; the tea will help your throat.’’

‘‘Mor?’’

‘‘Yes.’’

‘‘I’m sorry.’’

Kaaren smiled and waited.

‘‘For all the sadness I caused you.’’

‘‘You are forgiven.’’ She hugged her daughter again, the two clinging together. ‘‘Remember, that is over and done with now. Did you ask Jesus to forgive you?’’

‘‘A long time ago.’’

‘‘Then He did, and I do.’’

‘‘And Pa?’’

‘‘You need to ask him.’’

‘‘I will.’’

Sophie pushed herself up against the pillows and took the cup her mother poured for her. ‘‘You are so good to me, Mor. How I love you.’’

‘‘And I love you always, no matter what.’’

‘‘Like God?’’

‘‘As close as I possibly can.’’

‘‘Are you sure you should go help yet?’’ Sophie asked as she set Garth’s breakfast in front of him three days later.

‘‘I have to.’’ While still hoarse and prone to coughing, Garth could at least talk in a normal tone. ‘‘I’ve been lying around long enough.’’

‘‘Would you like more of the honey syrup Dr. Elizabeth brought over?’’

‘‘I’ll take the bottle with me. Thank you.’’ He looked up and studied her face. ‘‘You look lovely, Sophie.’’ His voice softened on her name.

Sophie met him smile for smile yet thought,
How can he say that
when I’m getting broader by the day and I have circles under my eyes so I
look like a raccoon?
‘‘I think your eyes must have been affected by the fire.’’ But his words warmed a band around her heart that seemed to be widening by the day.