Fire and Steel, Volume 6

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Fire and Steel, Volume 6 Page 11

by Gerald N. Lund


  And through it all, Scooter had remained unconscious.

  So when Benji had finished his work, he had come to her bedroom and taken her hand. That had been an hour ago, and he was still holding it. Occasionally, her hand would twitch a little or her fingers would squeeze his, but her eyes never opened and there was no other response from her. Her breathing continued to be labored and raspy.

  Benji looked up as he heard footsteps behind him. Garrett came in and sat down beside him. Benji immediately offered him her hand, which he took and gently pressed to his lips. “Come on, little one,” he murmured. “Open your eyes. Daddy’s here.” There was no response.

  They both turned as SuAnn and Mose came into the room, followed by Charlie. Benji quickly got up so that SuAnn could take his seat. As Charlie moved over to stand beside his sister, Benji decided that he looked almost as sick as Scooter. In spite of stern protests from his parents, Charlie still blamed himself for what had happened. He had been the one who had let the door blow open. He was the one who let Rusty shoot by him. Now Rusty was buried in a shady spot between the barn and the chicken coop and Scooter was still in a coma.

  Garrett turned to his wife. “No phone service yet?” When she shook her head, he got to his feet. “Then I’m going to drive into town and see if I can find Dr. Kensington.”

  “No, Garrett!” she blurted. “Not until they clear the roads. You’ll get stuck in the drifts.”

  “Then I’ll walk,” he said. “I can’t just sit here watching her fight for her life.”

  “So you think it is the dirt down in her lungs that’s causing this?” Mose asked softly.

  SuAnn nodded. “She was out in the storm with no face mask for a long time.”

  Mose nodded solemnly. “I really think that Rusty saved her life. He lay down with his back to the wind. It wasn’t much, but it provided a little hollow between his legs. She was curled up there, with her face against Rusty’s stomach.”

  “That would be Rusty,” Garrett agreed. “They’ve been inseparable since she was a baby.”

  Tears welled up in SuAnn’s eyes. “She’s going to be heartbroken.”

  “It will help her to know that he gave his life for her,” Benji said softly.

  SuAnn got slowly to her feet. “I’m going to prepare another dose of sugar and coal oil.”

  As she and Charlie went back out into the kitchen, Benji turned to Garrett. “Does that really help with dirt in the lungs? Sugar and coal oil? It seems like an odd combination.”

  Garrett nodded. “I’m not sure why, but they say it does two things. It keeps the windpipe lubricated and thus aids breathing, and the oil also helps break up the phlegm. It is probably hard on the tummy, but. . . .” He sighed and looked away. “What else can we do?”

  Benji had no answer for that. A few moments later, SuAnn was back, carrying a tray with a small can of coal oil, a sugar bowl and spoon, a glass of steaming water, a teacup, and a folded washcloth. She set the tray on a chair and sat down beside Sally Ann.

  No one spoke as they watched SuAnn carefully measure out two teaspoons of sugar and put it in the teacup. She then added hot water and stirred it until the sugar completely dissolved. Finally she added four drops of coal oil, which spread across the top of the water. She stirred it some more and looked up at her husband. “All right,” she said.

  Garrett knelt beside the edge of the bed, put his arm beneath his daughter, and lifted her about a foot off the bed. Her head lolled back, but he held it up with his free hand. Scooter moaned and tried to turn her head away as her mother forced the mixture between her teeth, but SuAnn quickly pressed the cloth over Scooter’s mouth, holding the liquid in. After a moment, she swallowed, choked a couple of times, and quieted again. Deftly, SuAnn repeated the dosage twice more.

  When they were done, they laid her back down. Not once through it all had Scooter’s eyes opened. Her chest just kept rising and falling as she struggled to breathe.

  As Benji watched all of that, he made up his mind about something. It was something that had come to him as he lay awake the previous night. The thought had surprised him, and he had reservations about it. Now, looking down on this delightful, full-of-life little girl whose life seemed to be ebbing away, he pushed aside his doubts. He reached out and touched SuAnn on the shoulder. When she looked over, he quietly asked, “Is your Bible still in the cupboard?”

  Surprised, she shook her head and then turned to her son. “It’s on the table by my bed. Get it, Charlie.”

  He left and was back a few moments later. Everyone, including Mose, was looking at Benji curiously. He ignored them, hoping that he could find what he was looking for. Though it took some fumbling through the book of James, he finally found it. He moved around to the other side of the bed, where he could look directly at the parents.

  “I. . . .” He took a quick breath. “In the epistle of James, we find some interesting instruction.” He opened the book to where he had his finger inserted and began to read, speaking slowly and distinctly: “Is any sick among you? Let him call for the elders of the church, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord. And the prayer of faith shall save the sick and the Lord shall raise him up.”

  He closed the book. SuAnn’s eyes were wide as she gazed at him. Garrett’s expression was hard to read. Puzzled, for sure. But maybe just a touch of hope, too. So Benji set the Bible aside, took a quick breath, and went on. “In my church,” he said hesitantly, “we believe that this is a promise given to all. Before I left home last month, I was given what we call the priesthood, or I became an elder in the Church. What you might call a pastor or a minister.” He was embarrassed now as all had their gaze fixed upon him.

  Garrett and SuAnn exchanged glances, and this time he definitely saw hope in their eyes. He took another quick breath. “If you like, I can give Scooter a blessing. I can’t promise you that this will heal her, but—”

  “Yes!” SuAnn cried, tears spilling over. She took Garrett’s hand. “Do you agree?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good,” SuAnn said, the relief evident in her eyes. “Then do it, Benji.”

  Still hesitant, he turned and looked up at Mose. “My friend,” he said, his voice husky now, “I know you are not a member of my church, but, as Garrett said earlier, you are a man of humble faith. Would you add your prayers to mine?”

  Momentarily startled, Mose then bobbed his head. “I would be honored.”

  12:10 p.m.

  Benji, Mose, SuAnn, and Garrett were seated around the kitchen table talking quietly. The door to Scooter’s bedroom was open, and through it they could see that Charlie still sat beside his sister, holding her hand. Within minutes of the blessing, Scooter’s breathing had eased and steadied. That had brought a new rush of tears, this time of relief and joy, and SuAnn wasn’t the only one crying. Every male in the room was a little blurry-eyed too.

  That had been about an hour and a half ago now, and Scooter was still resting peacefully. She was not out of the woods yet, but both parents were greatly relieved. A few minutes before, SuAnn had tried the phone again and found it was back in service. Garrett immediately called the doctor, who promised to come out as soon as the roads were cleared.

  Now there was nothing they could do but wait, so Benji and Mose reluctantly broached the subject of them moving on. Garrett protested, pointing out that the highways and the railroads were both closed and that Nebraska was about a 250-mile walk. He also pointed out that there was a tremendous amount of cleanup and repairs to be done, and that while they couldn’t offer them cash, they would continue to provide room and board as long as they stayed.

  But it was SuAnn who used a much more persuasive argument. “It is going to be a big shock for Scooter when she wakes up and finds that Rusty gave his life for her. And now you two aren’t going to be here either? Really?” That ended the discussion,
and the conversation had turned to what work had to be done.

  It was only a few minutes later when Charlie jumped to his feet, bending over his sister. Then he spun around. “Mom! Dad! Scooter’s choking!”

  All four adults leaped up and raced into the bedroom. SuAnn sat down beside Scooter and took her hand, watching in horror as Scooter’s abdomen convulsed violently. Her eyes were open and wide and filled with panic, though she seemed not to be aware of the others in the room. She was wheezing heavily as she fought to draw in air.

  Her father dropped to one knee beside her and put an arm around her. “Scooter! It’s all right. Daddy’s here!”

  She made a retching sound and cried out in pain as her body convulsed again. Suddenly she was flailing at her father, frantically pushing him away, trying to sit up.

  “Sit her up,” Benji suggested. Garrett did so, hovering over her. Still in full panic mode, Scooter swung her feet off the bed, bent over, and began to retch. Except that nothing came out.

  SuAnn dropped down beside her and began patting her softly on the back. Scooter jerked around, her eyes wild, frantically motioning for her mother to keep doing it, only more vigorously. As SuAnn did so, pummeling her now, Scooter raised both hands and frantically motioned for her to do more.

  In a flash, Benji understood what she wanted. “Harder!” he blurted.

  SuAnn looked up in surprise. Scooter’s face was turning purple. “Harder, SuAnn! She’s choking to death. Something’s caught in her throat.”

  SuAnn was sobbing uncontrollably as she pounded on Scooter’s back. Scooter’s face was turning purple and her eyes started to roll up inside her head. “No!” SuAnn cried.

  Mose suddenly dropped to one knee beside the bed. In one smooth movement, he scooped Scooter up and turned her over his knee so that her head nearly touched the floor. He raised his right hand and smacked her hard right below her shoulder blades.

  Scooter lurched hard and then gasped as her mouth opened and something that looked like a black, slimy pencil plopped to the floor. Mose whacked her again. Another black mass was ejected with the soft sound of sucking air. With a huge gasp, Scooter rolled off of Mose, falling to her knees, chest rising and falling as she hungrily sucked in air.

  “I’m—o—kay—Mama,” she managed to get out between breaths. As they all watched, a healthy pink color was flushing the purple from under the skin of her face.

  SuAnn gave a strangled cry and swept her daughter up in her arms. “I’m all right, Mama,” Scooter cried. “I’m all right now.”

  While the family swarmed in around her, Benji and Mose stepped back. After a moment, Mose took a bandanna from his back pocket. Turning his back to block Scooter’s view, he reached down and picked up the slimy, muddy cylinder that lay beside her bed. He started to wrap it in the cloth but then held it out for Benji to see. “I think this is what the doctors call a mud tube,” he said in awe. “No wonder she couldn’t breathe.”

  Chapter Notes

  To fit the chronology of the characters of the novel, I show the great storm of 1934 as happening on May 20–24. It actually began ten days earlier than that. It did rage for about four days, and the statistics on the amount of dirt that was carried away and the effects on the rest of the nation are accurately portrayed.

  The various events experienced by the characters of the novel are taken from actual accounts of people who lived through the Dust Bowl. Though all of the things depicted in these chapters did not happen just in Kansas, nor during one particular storm, they do represent the overall conditions Dust Bowlers experienced.

  Much of this comes from an excellent video called “Surviving the Dust Bowl” (see also “On This Day: Dust Storm Sweeps across Great Plains,” www.history.com/this-day-in-history/dust-storm-sweeps-from-great-plains-across-eastern-states).

  May 26, 1934, 11:23 p.m.—Eckhardt Home, Munich

  Vati?”

  Hans jumped a little. “Lisa? What are you doing up?”

  “I . . . couldn’t sleep.” She hung back, not coming into the little vestibule that now served as Hans’s home office.

  He laid the pencil down and turned fully around. “Worried about your exams?”

  That seemed to surprise her. “No.”

  Hans chuckled. “Of course not.” Lisa neither smiled nor brushed aside his implied compliment. It was as though she hadn’t heard him. “What is it, Liebchen?”

  Her shoulders lifted and fell in a diffident shrug. But something in her demeanor brought him to his feet. He went to her and put an arm around her shoulder. “Come,” he said, and he led her out into the living room and pulled her down beside him on their sofa.

  “I don’t want to interrupt what you’re doing,” she protested.

  “It’s fine. I’m just preparing that lecture I have to give to all the faculty in our college. After all, if my whole family and the entire Zeidner family are coming to hear me, then I’d better make it good.”

  Lisa finally smiled. “I’m excited to hear you. My father, a university professor.”

  “Not quite yet, Liebchen. Until I get my bachelor’s degree, I am only an adjunct lecturer.”

  “But the university has granted you enough credits for your experience with the party that you only have about a year left to get your degree, right?”

  Hans feigned a dirty look. “Where did you hear such a crazy thing as that?”

  “From Frau Zeidner.”

  “Oh.”

  “She says that Herr Zeidner is very happy with how things have turned out.”

  “Well, we shall see.” Hans leaned back, studying his daughter. “Alright, Mäuschen, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?

  She smiled up at him. “You haven’t called me Little Mouse in a long time.”

  “You’re not very little anymore. But don’t change the subject. What is it? What’s bothering you? Out with it.”

  Lisa sat up straighter and half turned to face him. “Well, in my letter of confirmation from Hitler Youth, they confirmed that I will be made a tent leader this year, as promised.”

  “That’s great, Lisa. At fifteen. I’m proud of you.”

  “So, I want you to call Frau Wettenberg, the women’s commandant, and request that Jo be assigned to my tent.”

  “Ah!” Then Hans frowned. “Don’t they make those assignments by age?” When Lisa nodded, he continued, “I can ask, but I don’t think I carry as much weight with her as you think I do.”

  Lisa scoffed openly. “You saw her last summer. She almost kissed your ring. Papa, this is Jo’s first time there. It’s going to be very difficult for her. I can help her a lot.”

  Hans was thoughtful for a moment, and then his head bobbed. “I’ll call her tomorrow.”

  “Danke.” Lisa yawned and got to her feet. “There’s one more thing,” she said quietly. “I’m putting you on notice right now. This will be the last year that either me or Jo will be Hitler Youth.”

  He sighed wearily. “Not tonight, Liebchen. Some other time.”

  She stood up. “Fine. Oh, I know what you’re thinking. You think it’s just me being me and when it comes down to it, I’ll cave in like I always do. But I mean it. I’m just putting you on notice.”

  “And you’ll put our family at risk?”

  “We’ll go to America every summer if we have to.”

  Hans stared at her for a moment and then burst out laughing. “Oh, I see. This is all about getting over to see your Benji, eh?”

  Lisa stiffened as if he had slapped her. “That’s what you think?”

  Hans stood up to face her, serious now. “You’re in Hitler Youth until you’re eighteen, Lisa. That’s the rule. Next year it will be the law. Participation becomes mandatory for all youth in the country.”

  “No, Papa! You have no idea how bad it’s getting. And how much Jo will hate it. If on
ly you understood how awful it’s becoming, you’d help us find a way to get out of it.” Before he could speak, Lisa went on, her voice hard and bitter. “Care to guess who was waiting for me when I came out of school last week?”

  Hans blinked at this change of topic. “Who?”

  “Bully Boy.”

  “Bully Boy? Who in the world is that?” Then he drew in a sharp breath. “The kid who tried to have his way with the Zeidner girls a couple of years ago? I thought he was in jail.”

  “So did I. It wasn’t an accidental meeting. He was waiting for me. His name is Baldur Hoechler.” She was staring at her hands now. “He wanted me to know that they released him from jail on the condition. . . .” She had to stop. Even thinking of him was turning her stomach.

  Hans finished her sentence. “On the condition that he joins the Hitler Youth and becomes a storm trooper when he turns eighteen.” Of course. The Sturmabteilung. The perfect place for a brute and a bully. And that was a club where a prison record was not a detriment to membership.

  “He’ll be going to the same camp as me and Jo. And he told me that he’ll be waiting for us.”

  “I’ll take care of him,” Hans finally said.

  “No, Papa!” Lisa cried. “Meddling will only make things worse.” Her lower lip was trembling as she fought to keep from crying. “Just know. This will be our last year. And if you think this is all about Benji, then you’re not smart enough to be a college professor.”

  May 27, 1934, 2:39 p.m.—Munich Branch of

  The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints,

  Empress Hotel Banquet Hall, 24 Blutenburgstrasse, Munich

  Lisa looked up as she saw her mother come back into the banquet hall. Finally!

  But with her were three other Relief Society sisters, and they were engaged in a serious conversation. Lisa groaned inwardly. This was happening almost every Sunday now. Some poor sister just had to unload all of her burdens and troubles on the Relief Society president. What this time? Sick child? A nonmember husband? Financial trouble? A wayward child?

 

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