The Little Sparrows (6 page)

When they reached Thraxton’s quarters, he was standing in his open door, talking to one of the crewmen. He gestured for them to step inside, and as they did, they heard him say to the crewman, “Yes, Arnold, we have a head sea and a fresh breeze.”

Louise leaned close to her husband. “Honey, what does that mean?”

“It’s seaman’s talk for whitecaps and a twenty-knot wind. There just might be a storm coming.”

“Oh. I hope not.”

“It probably won’t be a bad one. Don’t worry.”

Louise bit her lips as Captain Duane Thraxton stepped in and pulled the door shut.

“What do you think, Captain?” asked Bob. “Have we got a storm coming?”

“Looks like it,” replied Thraxton, “but I don’t think it’s going to amount to anything.” Noticing the look on Louise’s face, he added, “Really, Mrs. Marston. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Bob grinned at her. “See there, honey, I told you so.”

“Well, let’s eat!” said Thraxton.

By the time Bob and Louise had returned to their cabin, the clouds were darker and the wind was stronger. She stood at the window and watched the coal smoke swirling skyward as it cleared the smokestacks and was carried away. She felt the bow of the ship rise and fall with the powerful swell of the ocean.

Bob stepped up behind her while the wind-driven salt spray drifted across the pitching deck and put his arms around her. “Now, honey, you mustn’t let this upset you. We both heard Captain Thraxton say there’s nothing to worry about. He’s an old sea dog. He knows what he’s talking about. Tell you what—let’s go over here and pray about it.”

“That sounds good to me,” said Louise. “I just wish we’d see the Lord Jesus walking out there on the deck, and He would calm the storm like He did that day in the boat on the Sea of Galilee.”

“You know that’s not going to happen, sweetheart, but He is with us in the Person of the Holy Spirit. The storm will pass soon, I’m sure.”

That night, the ship pitched and rolled on the rough sea, and the wind howled. Bob and Louise got little sleep.

The next morning, as the
USS Hampton
sailed past the southern tip of Nova Scotia, the Marstons were once again having breakfast with the captain.

As they sat at the table, Louise looked out the porthole. Focusing on the dry land, which was barely visible because of the swirling sea mists, she said, “Captain, wouldn’t it be smart just to pull into the nearest port in Nova Scotia and wait this storm out?”

Thraxton grinned. “We would if I thought it was going to get any worse, ma’am, but the barometer in the wheelhouse is starting to rise, which means the storm will soon abate. We’ll be out of it, shortly.”

Louise ran the back of her hand across her forehead. “Oh, I’m sure glad to hear this. I feel better already.”

Bob chuckled. “Good. Now, enjoy your breakfast.”

When the Marstons returned to their cabin, the clouds were still low and dark and the wind continued to beat mercilessly against the ship. Louise was skeptical about the captain’s barometer reading and told Bob she was still frightened. The storm was not letting up. Bob reminded her that Thraxton was well experienced, then read to her from the Bible and prayed with her. Suddenly, lightning was cracking through the dark black clouds, and thunder followed like bellows of rage.

Fear beat through Louise’s chest like the frantic wings of a caged bird. She lunged for her husband and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Bob, I’m scared!”

Bob laid aside the Bible, folded her in his strong embrace, and held her tight, speaking soft words of encouragement.

Soon the rain was coming down in sheets and the wind continued to howl. It seemed that the waves and the dark sky were crashing together. Bob was still holding Louise when they heard loud, panicky shouts outside from the crewmen.

Bob let go of her, telling her he would be right back, and staggered to the cabin door with the ship swaying fiercely. He opened the door, and with the spray hitting his face, called out to a small
group of crewmen who were clinging to a railing. “Hey! What’s wrong?”

One of the men shouted back, “Some heavy cargo below deck came loose and crashed into the side of the ship! It’s taking in water! Cap’n Thraxton has ordered all crewmen to get down there and bail water! We’re trying to get there without being washed overboard!”

“I’ll come and help!” shouted Bob.

“No, sir!” the man shouted back. “You stay right there with your wife!”

When Bob closed the door, Louise’s arms went around him like bands of steel. “Oh, Bob, I heard what he said! We’re going to sink! We’re going to drown!”

Bob helped her back to the chair where she had been sitting, sat her down, and tried to calm her down, saying they would make it.

She screamed, “The captain shouldn’t have believed that barometer! He shouldn’t have relied on it!”

Bob could only hold her tight and attempt to relieve her fears.

It only grew worse when the ship started to list to the starboard side. Louise cried out when she looked through the window and saw huge waves washing over the deck, with the crewmen trying to keep from being washed overboard.

Suddenly the engines below went silent. Bob knew the ship was now at the mercy of the angry sea. Louise clung to him, digging her fingernails into his arms.

Waves once split by the prow of the ship were now the size of foothills on the broadsides and came crashing down on top of the
Hampton
from stem to stern. All at once there was a crash so loud, the Marstons thought the ship would head for the bottom of the ocean at once.

Abruptly, the cabin door came open, and Captain Duane
Thraxton was there, clinging to the doorframe. “The ship is sinking!” he shouted. “We’ve got to get into a lifeboat quick! Come on!”

Louise released a quivering wail of terror as Bob grabbed her, held her tight, and helped her to the door. When they were out on the pitching deck, Thraxton shouted, “Follow me!”

As they struggled across the deck toward the lifeboats on the starboard side, the crewmen were climbing into them as fast as they could.

Bob and Louise could see wooden crates bobbing on the surface of the churning sea, along with pieces of furniture and other debris from the ship.

Suddenly the ship listed so far toward the starboard side that the captain and the Marstons lost their footing. A huge wave broke over the ship and carried them swiftly into the wild, angry sea.

Louise screamed as they plunged into the water.

Bob was still holding her in his arms.

O
n Friday afternoon, April 17, Frances Roberts walked little Lizzie Marston into the girls’ bedroom. “All right, sweet baby, you have a nice nap now.”

Lizzie paused at the side of her bed and looked up at her. “I’m really not sleepy, Mrs. Roberts. Do I have to take a nap if I’m not sleepy?”

Frances smiled and ran her fingers through the girl’s curly blonde hair. “Like I told you yesterday, honey, your mama asked me to make sure you get your daily naps. It’s good for little girls your age to get a nap in the afternoon. Come on, get up on your bed.”

Lizzie obeyed, and when she lay on her back with her head on the pillow, she set her eyes on Frances. “If I should go to sleep, will you wake me up before Mary and Johnny come home from school?”

“I’ll do that, sweet baby,” she said, bending down and planting a kiss on her forehead. “I have a feeling if you lie here real quietlike, you’ll be asleep in no time. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Frances crossed the room to the door. She paused and smiled at the little girl. “Sleep tight.”

“I’ll try.”

Frances closed the door and headed down the hall toward the parlor.

She smiled to herself, thinking how much she enjoyed taking care of the Marston children. She loved all three, but little Lizzie had found a very special place in her heart.

Bob and Louise had moved into this house on the day they were married, and Frances had been with Louise at the birth of all three babies. She had come to feel very much a part of the family. As old age had come upon her, she no longer had the energy nor the stamina she once did when caring for the lively youngsters, but since Mary was mature for her eight years, she was a help to her. Even then, by the end of each day since Bob and Louise had been gone, Frances was more than ready for bedtime, when she could crawl into the soft bed in the guest room and indulge in its comfort.

As Frances entered the parlor and eased into the soft overstuffed chair by the window, she thought about Lizzie, and how she had been especially energetic today. It was time for Lizzie’s “nanny” to get a little rest too.

It was the sound of a neighbor’s dog barking across the street that brought Frances out of her sound sleep. She opened her eyes, rubbed them gently, and looked out the window. Across the street, Mrs. Chelton was scolding her dog for barking, and with a grip on his collar, was leading him back inside the house.

Frances glanced at the grandfather clock on the other side of the room, and noted that it was almost three-thirty. Mary and Johnny would be home from school in less than half an hour. She rubbed her eyes again, and with difficulty—which was now normal—she left the chair.

Moments later, when Frances quietly opened the door of the girls’ room and peeked in, she saw Lizzie lying on the bed smiling at her. “I been awake for a while, Mrs. Roberts.”

“Well, I’m glad you went to sleep, honey. And that was a good girl to stay on the bed till I came to get you up. Want to go out on the front porch and wait for Mary and Johnny to come home?”

“Uh-huh.” Lizzie rolled over on her stomach, slid off the bed, and hurried to Frances’s side.

Moments later, they stepped out onto the front porch. Frances stepped to the railing, and leaning on it, ran her gaze over the colorful flowerbeds that surrounded the porch. Lizzie was waiting behind the comfortable canvas chair where Frances liked to sit. When Frances moved to the chair, the girl took hold of it to steady it, which was Johnny’s job when he was home.

Secretly, Frances was hoping the older two would do something to occupy Lizzie when they got home, so she could get a few minutes’ rest before starting supper.

Smiling, Lizzie stood in front of Frances. “Is there anything I can do for you, Mrs. Roberts?”

Frances smiled. “Not that I can think of, sweet baby. Just sit over here in one of these chairs so you can watch for your brother and sister.”

“How about I sing for you?”

“That would be nice, honey.”

“I been learning a new song in Sunday school. It’s called ‘Jesus Loves Me.’ Wanna hear it?”

“Sure.”

Lizzie took her usual stance for singing—one foot a half-step behind the other—and splayed her fingers, holding her hands at waist level.

Frances smiled. Lizzie loved to entertain, and it showed in her eyes.

Frances clapped her hands. “That’s really good, honey. God has given you such a sweet little voice.”

Face beaming, Lizzie said, “I know another verse, Mrs. Roberts!”

“All right. Let’s hear it.”

Lizzie adjusted her stance slightly, splayed her fingers again, and began:

Lizzie heard a horse blow on the street, and saw a frown crease Frances’s brow as she looked that direction. Lizzie pivoted and saw two uniformed policemen dismounting from their horses in front of the house.

As the officers started toward the porch, Lizzie turned to Mrs. Roberts. “How come those policemen are coming here?”

“I don’t know, honey.” She noted the solemn faces of the officers.

As the officers drew up to the porch steps, they both touched the brims of their caps. One of them said, “Ma’am, I am Officer
Harold Demers, and this is my partner, Officer Ed Holbrook. This is the Marston residence, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir,” came France’s reply. “But Mr. and Mrs. Marston are not home. They sailed to Newfoundland a few days ago, and won’t be home till a week from today. My name is Frances Roberts. I live next door, over here on the east, and I’m staying here with the Marston children while their parents are gone.”

Before either officer could speak, Lizzie spotted her brother and sister coming down the street. She dashed off the porch and ran toward them, calling out their names.

Frances looked up at the officers, who both appeared to be in their early thirties. “The two older children are just getting home from school. Is there something wrong?”

Officer Demers nodded and cleared his throat. “Yes, ma’am. We have some bad news, but we’ll wait till the children can hear it, too.”

Frances’s face lost color. “Is it about Bob and Louise?”

Demers cleared his throat again. “Ah … yes, ma’am. But I’ll only have to tell it once if we wait till the children are on the porch.”

Down on the street, when Lizzie reached her sister and brother, both of them had already noticed the police officers on the porch.

As they continued walking toward the house, Johnny asked, “Lizzie, how come those policemen are on our porch?”

Lizzie shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Mary frowned. “How long have they been here?”

“Jus’ a few minutes.”

Mary looked at her brother. “Johnny, I can tell something is wrong by the look on Mrs. Roberts’s face.”

Johnny focused on Frances. “That’s for sure.”

Mary took hold of Lizzie’s hand and looked at Johnny. “Let’s run. Take Lizzie’s other hand.”

On the porch, the officers were watching the Marston children hurry their direction.

Frances said, “I think it would be best if you tell me what this bad news about Bob and Louise is. If something has happened to them, the bad news could devastate the children.”

Officer Ed Holbrook said, “Ma’am, we will be as gentle as possible, but it is our duty to tell them what has happened. We have orders from our chief.”