Where the Wild Rose Blooms (35 page)

"Are you leaving?" Jackie's hands were outstretched, and Addy rushed to her.

"I'm just going to answer the door," Addy answered. Jackie calmed a little at her touch. "Just sit tight; I'll be right back."

Jackie was shaking again, but Addy left her and rushed to the door. She was rather startled to see Mrs. Munroe standing on the small porch. Pastor had visited twice, but his wife, who was often busy with the town orphans, was the last person Addy expected. However, she was not unwelcome.

"I hope I won't be intruding, Addy, but I thought I could be of some help."

"Oh," Addy's manners returned to her in a rush. "Of course, Ora, please come in."

Ora Munroe was just two steps into the house when Jackie set up a hue and cry. Addy didn't explain, but turned and ran to her. Ora followed slowly. By the time she calmed Jackie down, the other woman was standing silently in the doorway

"Come in, Ora," she bade gently, telling herself to forget the dust and grime that seemed to pervade the room, indeed, the whole house.

"Thank you."

"Mrs. Munroe is here, Jackie."

"Hello, Jackie," Ora greeted her softly.

"Hello." Jackie's voice was dull.

"How is your shoulder?"

Jackie didn't answer. Addy looked apologetic and spoke for her.

"It's fine really, just very bruised. Those tins of syrup are quite heavy. Doc Edwardson was rather surprised she hadn't broken any bones."

Ora nodded, and a momentary silence fell on the threesome. It didn't last, however, as Jackie suddenly lost her mother and began to call to her in terror. Addy was standing to go to her when Ora spotted a bruise and a scratch on her arm. She caught Addy's sleeve and shook her head.

"Answer her from here," she said quietly. For a moment, Addy only stared at her. "Sit back down, Addy, and answer her from your place in the chair."

"Mother! Mother!" '

The cries escalated, but Addy made herself sit back down.

"I'm right here, Jackie; right in my chair."

"Mother." Again Jackie's hands were outstretched, unseeing eyes searching frantically. Addy began to panic herself and turned to their guest, but Ora only shook her head.

"Jackie." The strange voice caught her attention. Shed forgotten anyone else was there. "Your mother is right here. She's going to answer you from her seat." Ora urged Addy with her head. "I'm right here, Jackie. Can you hear me?" "Yes, but I need to touch you." Jackie was crying now. Ora shook her head vehemently.

"I'm right here." Addy's voice wobbled with her own tears, but she managed the words. "You can hear me." Jackie's hands began to twist and flap. She was on the verge of hysteria. "I have to touch you," she sobbed. "No," Addy now said on her own. "I'm right here. Just listen to the sound of my voice."

"I
can't.

"Yes, you can," Ora put in. "In fact, you can tell by the sound of her voice how your mother is feeling." Jackie was shaking her head, but Ora went on, her soft voice compelling. "Listen to your mother, Jackie, and tell me if she's angry."

Addy picked up her cue. "I'm right here, Jackie, right here in the room with you." Jackie was still moving fretfully, but she was listening too. "Is she angry, Jackie?" "No, but I need to touch her."

"Does she sound like she's going to play a trick on you?" "No." Jackie's movements were calming.

"No, she isn't, is she? If your mother tells you she's right in the room, then you know she's going to be here."

Jackie's breathing was returning to normal, and her hands now lay still in her lap.

"Go to her, Addy," Ora instructed, and when she did, Jackie clung to her in relief. Addy smoothed her
hair and nestled Jackie against her. The exercise had been as draining for her as it was for Jackie. She finally looked to Ora.

"My mother was blind," the pastors wife stated quietly. "I think I can be of help to you."

"If you run your right hand along the edge of the plate, Jackie, you will feel your cup."

Jackie's hand came to the table top. She bumped her knife and spoon but found the plate. It was a good thing it was empty, or she'd have put her hand right in the food.

"You must move slower, dear," Ora cautioned her. "Slow movements at all times, until you've found your way."

Jackie's left hand gripped the edge of the table, and Ora prepared herself for the outburst. They'd been working for two hours every morning for six weeks, and she knew all the signs. The progress had been very slow, but Ora was patient beyond all description.

"No one is going to clean up any messes you make today, Jackie. If you break another plate, you'll clean up the glass on your own.

At first Jackie was so shocked she couldn't speak, but a moment later she let out a howl.

"Mother! Mother!"

"Listen, Jackie." Ora's voice got through when Jackie was taking a breath. "She heard you upstairs. Listen to her footsteps on the stairs."

Jackie forgot her earlier irritation until she heard her teacher's next words.

"You can see, Jackie; you can see without your eves."

"Don't say that to me!" she said through gritted teeth.

"But it's true," Ora insisted. "And as soon as you realize it, you're going to feel set free."

Jackie was still breathing heavily with irritation when her mother entered.

"Did you call me, Jackie?"

"Yes. I'm through for the day." She started to rise. "Take me upstairs."

"If you want to get upstairs," Ora cut in, "you'll have to go on your own. '

"Mother!" she immediately cried. "Help me, Mother."

Ora didn't look at Addy or Jackie. She sat at the table and let them decide. In the past, Addy had often helped when she shouldn't have. Ora had told her that in the long run it would make things worse, but too often Addy had not been able to withstand Jackie's tears.

"I think," Addy said softly, "that I'll let you go on your own today."

Jackie sat back down and began to cry. The women did not touch her or speak to her, and soon her tears became sobs. Morgan chose that moment to come in the door.

"What is it?" he asked immediately, not seeing anyone but Jackie.

"Oh, Father," she cried, taking immediate advantage. "I just want to go upstairs."

"I'll take you, honey," he offered and went right to her.

So taken was he with Jackie's fear that he didn't even notice his wife's face. Without further word to anyone, he took Jackie to her room.

Addy and Ora stared at each other before Addy admitted quietly, "Christmas is three-and-a-half-weeks away, and a week after that is Jackie's birthday. I wish they were already over."

"How can I clean it if I can't see it?" Jackie's voice was filled with anger, but Addy ignored it.

"It doesn't have to be perfect, but you can tell where the polish is. Just try."

"No. I don't want it all over me."

Addy worked to tamp down her own anger. If she told Jackie what she was really thinking, that she was a self—centered brat, it would crush her. However, she was not going to take no for an answer.

"I want you to do this," Addy said in an even tone. "I want you to at least try to polish this platter. If you don't, I wont read to you tonight at bedtime."

"You're treating me like a child," Jackie whimpered.

"Because you're acting like one," Addy snapped. She stopped herself just short of asking,
What would Clayton say?
But he was not mentioned anymore. His letters to Jackie were stacked unopened in her room, untouched and unanswered.

"I'll try," Jackie said quietly after a moment of uncomfortable silence. Addy thanked her and moved from
the
room.

I
must stop this, Lord. I question You at every turn. I want answers as to how I'm going to carry on and how much longer I must struggle, but You have kept silent I am becoming frustrated and distant with You, and I cant stand it.

Addy heard the sound of her own thoughts and knew that she alone must deal with her anger and apathy. She took the first chair she could find and began to pray. Years ago she'd heard a preacher say, "The moment you don't feel like praying, get on your knees. And the moment you don't feel like reading your Bible, you'd better get that Book open."

The words came to her now, and Addy prayed. She didn't have the energy to go upstairs for her Bible, but she did pray. She confessed her anger and asked God for the strength to carry on. Jackie called to her a short time later, and she went to her, still praying. She talked to
the
Lord all the way to bedtime that night when she could finally escape to the quiet of her bedroom and write a letter to Eddie. She needed someone who would listen. Eddie seemed the ideal choice. Addy was tired enough to go to bed and sleep for 12 hours, but she fought the urge, sat down at her desk, and put ink to paper.

Morgan climbed the stairs to the bedroom late that same night. He was bone tired and told himself that he didn't really need to be at the store at 6:00. In fact, he had gotten so much done today, he didn't need to be there until right before opening at 8:00. Morgan was contemplating the loveliness of turning over in the morning and going back to sleep when he opened the door and found Addy slumped over the writing desk.

The lantern was burning, but she was sound asleep. He nearly shook her awake, but before he could do so, his eye caught some of the words of her letter to Eddie. Morgan carefully slid the paper from under her hand and moved beside her to catch the light.

Jackie looks like a scarecrow, and so do I. Never has weight control been so little a problem. Jackie actually polished a platter for me today but then threw a fit when I didn't get the polish off of her hands fast enough. I have prayed more today than I have in weeks, but never have I been so lonely. With Jackie not at the store to help him, Morgan is putting in double the hours, and knowing how much he worked before you can well imagine how little I see of him. When I came upstairs for the night, he wasn't even home yet. I don't know if the store needs him that badly or if he is running from this situation. I have been tempted to run myself.

I long for you, Eddie, as I have never done before. Please pray for me. Elaine in Denver seems a thousand miles away. I haven't even written to her. Every time I try to sit down and talk with Danny, Jackie screams for something. I know it's best to make her do things for herself, but most of the time I do not have the fortitude to deny her. She is still too dependent on me. I ask myself
when
enough is enough but gain no answers. I keep making excuses for her, telling myself that she needs more time, but they are hollow excuses even to my own ears.

I believe God is sovereign, and I believe He loves me, but I feel so frail. I ask Him to ease this load, but He has said no. I must carry on here, and for this I covet your prayers. I have an 18-year-old infant on my hands, an unsaved husband, and three other daughters who haven't had my attention since September 27 of last year. I haven't seen the inside of the church since that day, and even though I praise God for Ora Munroe, at times I think I will break under the strain of it all.

February is just around the corner, and I am asking God for something special. Maybe the snows won't be so harsh this late in the winter and spring will come early. This really would uplift my heart, especially if I could take Jackie outside or more folks would visit. Right now no one wants to be around her. At this point, I'd even enjoy working at the store instead of being with Jackie, but she will have no one but me or Morgan, and I've already told you where Morgan is most of the time. I ask again, Eddie, please pray for me.