Spirit Pouch (31 page)

"Why?" I ask, looking upward.  "Why Joseph?"  I wipe a tear from my eye, but it is then that I feel a total peace come over me like when the sun comes out from behind a cloud. 
Joseph is a pure soul.  I know he will be all right, even if he leaves us.  Even if he dies.  It is not Ty's fault.  And not the snake's fault.  It is life.  And life brings death for everyone, eventually.

I think I feel another tear and wipe it away as I stand up and head back to our camp.  In my anger I had run about a mile and a half.  It seemed like nothing at the time.  Walking back, though, I have time to think and to ponder. 
I know that even if Joseph dies we can be with him again in the Spirit World.  I know that this great blessing comes from Jesus Christ.  Joseph will live again and we can be with him.  This life is not the end.
  Even I am surprised at how strongly I feel the truth of this and I know it is the Spirit bearing witness to me.

I see the oxen and the horse as I get close to camp. 
At least I can report to William that they are okay,
I think to myself.

When I return to camp Elizabeth and Henry are sitting by Joseph, keeping wet, air-cooled towels on his forehead.  Grandmother Brettle and Annie are fixing some food by the fire.

William, George and Ty show up dragging some firewood behind them.

"Jared, help us bring one more load of wood," William says.

"Is it far?" I ask.

"No.  We found some fairly close by," he says, as we head out of camp to the north.

Carrying firewood is far better than sitting in camp worrying about Joseph, or Annie, for that matter.
  We each gather an arm full of wood and return to the wagons.

Elizabeth feeds Joseph some warm chicken soup as soon as it is done.  I hear him cough and wheeze two or three times, holding his chest from the pain of each breath.

When we all sit down for dinner, Henry offers a sincere prayer of thanks and concern for Joseph, and then he returns to Joseph's side.  No one talks much at dinner, silently eating soup and biscuits.

A short while later Annie takes my dish and I go help William spread out our blankets for sleep.  Joseph never really stops wheezing and crying from pain, and I hear him now.

"I know it hurts, my Joseph," I hear Elizabeth say quietly as I walk by.  She has him in her arms, hugging him and talking softly.  His face and lips look blue in the flickering light of the lantern.  "Be brave, my son," she says.

I crawl into my blankets and so do William and George.  Ty comes eventually.  I do not sleep for a while, but I lie under the canvas looking at the stars and listening to Joseph gasping, coughing, crying and wheezing.  At some point I drift into a restless sleep.

Chapter
Eighteen

Joseph

Tuesday, July 10

Waking
up without an alarm clock is a much more pleasant way to greet the new day.  Usually my mind and thoughts seem to float between unconscious bliss and conscious reality for a short while, like when you daydream in English Literature class.  But this morning is different.  I wake up like someone has flipped a switch or pressed the on button.  I open my eyes and am perplexed because it is still dark.  It feels like early morning and I decide the eastern sky is just a touch more light than the west. 
But what woke me up?
I wonder, searching my recent subconscious thoughts for a hint.  William is not in bed and I decide that I had heard William crawling out.

Faintly, and almost imperceptibly, I hear soft and muffled sounds from where Joseph sleeps.  Then comes quiet, but distinct, sobbing.

Throwing off my blanket, I slip into my shoes and make my way over to Joseph.  William is there, kneeling.  Elizabeth is holding Joseph in her arms and Henry is holding Elizabeth, as she silently sobs, as only a mother can when she loses a child.  Joseph's hand falls to the side and William reverently picks it up and places it into Joseph's lap where it sits motionless and lifeless.

I hear William sniff and tears in Henry's eyes reflect the dim light of the nearby lantern.  A coyote howls a lonely song in the distance, and my heart aches.

"Jared," Henry chokes, "would you please wake George?  He needs to be here."

"Yes, sir," I whisper.  I walk over to where George is sleeping and sit down on the blanket next to him.  "George," I say softly, pushing his shoulder a little.

"What?"  His eyes flutter and partially open.

"Your brother, Joseph, has passed away during the night and your father wants you to come to him," I say quietly.

"That's not a very funny joke," George says tersely, and rolls over away from me.

"That's because it is not a joke."

George turns back and, squinting in the dim pre-dawn light, looks me in the eyes to see if I am laughing.  "You're serious, aren't you?" he says, fully awake.

"Very."

George throws off the blanket and grabs his boots, slipping into them fast enough to give a fireman competition.

"George," I say, pausing.  George looks at me.  "I'm sorry about Joseph."

George nods and hurries away.

"Jared?" Ty says from his blanket.

"Yeah?"

"Did I hear you correctly?"

"Yes," I say.  My voice quivers a little.  "Joseph passed away early this morning."

Ty throws off his blanket.  "I'm going to miss that boy," Ty says.  "A lot." Ty grabs his shoes, "Come on, Jared.  We need to help."

I follow Ty over to where the family is gathered.  Elizabeth still holds Joseph in her arms and her face glistens in the dim light with tears.

Annie is awake, sitting in a shadow, and Grandma Brettle is sitting close to her.  They are talking softly and Annie sniffs and pulls her tear streaked hair from her eyes.  Annie scoots close and buries her face in her grandmother's sleeve and her shoulders shake as she cries.  Grandma Brettle rubs her back and blinks away a tear.  Grandpa Brettle has his arm around Henry.

"I'm going to miss him a lot," Ty whispers to William.  He puts his arm around William's shoulder and squeezes.

William wipes a wet streak from his cheek, "Me, too."

"I can't believe he is gone," George says, his voice quivering.  "I didn't say goodbye …", he sniffs and pushes at his eyes, "… and now he is gone."

I pull George over and give him a hug.  "We will both miss him," I say.  "He loved life.  He could play harder than anyone I know."

George smiles.  "He could, couldn't he?  He could play morning to night."

"Boys," Henry says quietly.  "I need your help,"  He walks away from the wagons and we follow.  "William, I need you to go into Willow Springs and find someone who will make us a coffin.  It needs to be simple and soon.  Then find out where the cemetery is.  We will meet you at the store in Willow Springs."

"George and Jared and Ty, I need you boys to hitch up the wagons.  We are going to have a quick breakfast and pack up the wagons.  Today will be a travel day …" he pauses and swallows hard,  "… after a funeral service in Willow Springs."

William sets off for Willow Springs and the rest of us herd the oxen and horse over to the wagons.

"What's the matter with the oxen this morning?" I complain to George.  "It's like they forgot how to go."

"They haven't been worked for three days," George replies.  "They get a little lazy.  But they will shape up once we get them on the trail."

The horse is no better.  I have to coax her into position in front of the wagon.  She isn't too excited about the collar, saddle and breeching strap, but then settles down and submits to the harness.

"How is it going?" Henry says as he inspects the collar and girth.

"It is a lot easier when William helps me," I say, laughing.

"Yes it is," Henry agrees.  "William has a gentle touch with horses that calms them down.  And he knows how to adjust the harness so it fits.  If it rubs it will cause sores.  Looks like you did a good job here, though."

"Thanks,"

"Why don't you come over for a bite to eat, and then we can start loading."

"Okay," I say, walking over to join the rest of the family by the fire.

Henry removes his hat, "Let's have family prayer."  He bows his head and in the short silence that follows I hear a nearby bird call a brief melody and another far away answer.  "Dear Father," he says.  "We bow our heads before thee in great sadness because of our son and brother, Joseph, has left us on this day to return unto thee.  And we will miss him dearly."  Henry's voice breaks and he is silent again for a few moments.  Through the silence I hear sad stifled cries and quick quiet sniffs from Joseph's heart broken family.  My eyes squish with tears and my heart aches.  Henry continues, "Please bless his soul and watch over him.  Please bless this food and bless our travels this day with safety and with thy holy spirit to comfort us."

Henry ends the prayer and we all say, "Amen."  Annie and Grandma Brettle hand out bread and a piece of cooked venison.

"Do you need help with the oxen?" I ask George, cutting through the gloomy silence like a knife through butter.

"Ah … no," he says, returning from where ever his thoughts had taken him.  "We have two oxen yoked up.  The other two will only take a few minutes."

"Okay.  I see how it is.  You two just want to keep all the fun for yourselves," I say, pretending to be offended.

"No!" George says quickly.  "We −"

"Yes!" Ty interrupts, laughing.  "We want all the fun!"  Ty pokes George.  "He's joking.  He's just teasing us."

George gives me half a smile.  "If it's fun you want, you can start loading those boxes from the kitchen."  He laughs.

I laugh, too.  "Thanks, George."

I finish my bread and go help Henry fold up blankets and roll up canvas, loading them in the wagon as we finish each one.  I help Henry and Elizabeth wrap Joseph in a blanket, then Henry and I lift and place his body gently onto the wagon drawn by the horse.

Forty minutes later the wagons are loaded, and with a click of my tongue and a prod from George's ox goad the two wagons start creaking and squeaking with chains rattling on their way toward Willow Springs.

We find William in front of the store in Willow Springs.  "Come inside, Father," William says.  "The clerk wants to talk with you."

Henry walks inside and I see William quietly measure Joseph with a piece of string, then he walks back into the store.  I go with him.

The clerk is showing to Henry the simple pine coffin and William stretches the string out from one end to the other, but the string doesn't touch both ends of the coffin.

"It's a good size, Father," William says.

"Okay," Henry says.  "We will take it, then."  Henry pays the clerk with some coins.  "Did you find the cemetery?"

"Yes," both William and the clerk answer in unison.  The clerk points toward the back of the store.  "About two hundred yards that way.  You will find five other graves there."

"How do you happen to have a coffin already made?" Henry asks.

"It was for the daughter of one of the ranchers nearby," he says.  "But they ended up not needing it."

"How fortunate," Henry smiles.  "I bet they are happy."

"No," the clerk sighs.  "The daughter went missing and they never found her.  They think that maybe Indians took her."

"I'm sorry," Henry says, eyes glistening.

"Thank you," he says.  "You can use the back of the store, here, to situate your boy in the coffin and say a few words, if you would like."

"Thank you.  You have been most kind to us.  Boys," Henry says, "we need a grave dug.  Let's go get a shovel."

"Elizabeth and Henry carry Joseph's body into the store, and Ty, George, William and I take turns with the shovel digging a grave at the cemetery.  The ground is soft and, even so, it takes over an hour.

Some chairs have been placed around the coffin and the family is sitting quietly.  Joseph looks peaceful, like he is sleeping.  We sit down.

Henry stands.  "I think it would be appropriate to have a prayer at this time.  He bows his head and so do we.  Henry gives a beautiful prayer that brings tears to my eyes.  He reminds us of the joy that Joseph brought to each of us.  How he touched our lives with his innocent spirit.  How we will miss him until we see him again in heaven.

I sniff hard because otherwise I will cry. 
Being a pioneer is hard.  I'm not cut out to be a pioneer.  Lord,
I pray,
please bless me with the spiritual strength I need to be a pioneer with this family.

Henry finishes his prayer and then asks, "Anyone else wish to speak?"

Elizabeth stands, "Joseph, we love you."  She cries and sits back down.

Henry waits a moment then, "Okay boys, you and your grandfather please help with the coffin."

We tap the lid closed with short nails.  Each tap feels so final it makes me cry.  I want to play hide and seek again.  I want to play marbles.  I want to teach Joseph to use the sling, but instead we fasten the lid tightly, then in unison lift and carry the small wooden box out to the cemetery.  After lowering the coffin gently into the grave, each family member, face streaked with tears, tosses a handful of brown, cold dirt into the grave, then walks back to the store.

Ty, Henry and I take turns returning dirt to the grave.  We push a wooden cross with the words "Joseph Cottle" into the dirt at the head of the grave.  I swallow hard, "Goodbye, Joseph.  Rest in peace."

When we return to the family, William and George have the wagons ready to go.  We leave Willow Springs with heavy hearts and we walk in verbal silence for at least two miles.

"Father?" Annie says walking close to Henry and taking his hand as they walk.

"Yes?"

"That wasn't Joseph in the coffin, was it?"

"Well−"

"I touched his face and his hand.  It was hard and cold.  Joseph wasn't there."  Tears slide from her cheeks and she leans her head against his shirt.

"No.  I guess you are right."  Henry walks a few steps.  "It was Joseph's body in the coffin, but Joseph's spirit was not there.  It is his spirit, or soul, that you know as Joseph.  No, his spirit was gone."

"Where?" She looks up at her father's face.  "Where did he go?  Where is he?"

Henry stops walking and slowly each member of the family stops, also.  "In the Book of Mormon, Alma teaches that when a person dies, his spirit returns to God.
[92]
  His spirit goes to a place of happiness called paradise.  If a wicked person dies, that person goes to a place of misery called outer darkness, until the judgment day."

For a moment Annie looks horrified.

"I'm absolutely certain your brother, Joseph, is in paradise," Henry reassures her.

"I hope so," Annie breathes.  "No one would want to be in outer darkness.  That would be so awful."

Henry and Annie start walking again and the wagons follow, creaking and rattling, and hooves clopping on the stones embedded in the trail.

"Father?" George calls when Annie and Henry get close to the oxen that George is leading.

"Yes?"

"I heard what you told Annie about paradise, but what does Joseph get to do while he is there?  Does he get to play?"

Henry laughs.  "I don't know about play.  I do know that paradise is a place where Joseph will wait for the resurrection."

Both George and Annie look confused.