by Marta Perry
They lifted it. To her relief, Thomas didn’t move, but his leg seemed to relax. The boys carried it out of the way and then came back for the other one. Now that they had done it once, it was easier. The process went smoothly, and she breathed a little easier.
He was still unconscious. How long had it been? This wasn’t a case of being stunned by a fall. Something was wrong.
But even as she thought it, Thomas’s eyes flickered.
“Look,” Joseph whispered. “He’s waking up.”
“Thomas.” She spoke his name. “Thomas, can you hear me? You had a fall.”
His eyes opened and he frowned, a line forming between his brows. “Fell,” he murmured.
“That’s right, you fell. Don’t try to talk now. Help is on the way.”
She wasn’t sure he understood her, but he tried to move his head, turning it from side to side as if to be sure it still worked. “Fell,” he murmured again.
“Yah.” She slid her hand between the back of his head and the heavy planks that made up the floor, cradling it.
Running footsteps announced Esther’s return. “She called, and they’re coming. Mamm and Daad, too. She was by the phone shanty when Anna called. Is he better?”
“He’s starting to wake a little.” She looked at Esther’s worried face. “It will be all right.”
Esther seemed to believe her. Dorcas prayed she was right.
“You boys had better run out to the end of the lane and signal the ambulance when you see it. They might not know where the turn is.”
“Right away.” Joseph scrambled to his feet with Benjamin following a second later. They dashed off toward the lane.
“Can’t I do something?” Esther reached out. “Maybe put him on a blanket?”
“We can’t move him, but we might be able to slip something between his head and the floor. See if there’s a blanket or something in the wagon.”
“I’ll find something.” Esther hurried to the wagon.
Dorcas looked back at Thomas. His eyes had opened again, and he was frowning at her. “I fell,” he repeated.
“That’s right. You’re in the stable, and you fell. You’ve got a lump on your head and I don’t know what else.”
She tried to speak lightly—to take it lightly.
“Feels like I landed on my head.” He tried to move and grimaced.
“Just be still.”
Esther hurried in with a thick brown carriage blanket in her hands. “What about this?”
“Just right. You get on the other side of him, and we’ll slide it under his head.” She focused on Thomas while Esther moved around him.
“We’re going to put something under your head so you’ll be more comfortable. Don’t try to help us.”
He didn’t say anything, but he seemed to understand. Esther was folding the blanket and smoothing it into place.
“That’s right.” Dorcas put a hand on either side of his head. “You slide it under while I support his head.”
When it was done, Thomas relaxed with a look of relief. “Better.” He lay quietly for a minute, but then he frowned again. “I should get up.” As he said the words, he attempted to lift his shoulders from the floor. Startled, she grasped him, and he sank back down, eyes closing.
“Maybe in a minute,” he murmured.
“Not until we have you checked out,” she said firmly. “You lie still until the paramedics come, or Esther and I will sit on you, won’t we, Esther?”
That got a little smile from Esther. “That’s right. You behave.” She seemed to enjoy giving her big brother orders.
The distant wail of a siren penetrated. “Here they come,” she said. “Esther, you’d best go out and wave them to the stable, so they don’t try to go into the schoolhouse.”
Nodding, she hurried out.
“Wish you hadn’t called them,” he muttered. “Everyone will know.”
She patted him. “What difference does it make? Everyone always knows everything anyway.”
He closed his eyes again. “. . . think I can’t finish anything.”
“Don’t worry about it now. It will be fine.” Was he concerned about finishing the stable? It would be done eventually.
The siren neared, and they heard the change in sound as the ambulance made the turn into the lane.
“You’ll be fine,” she murmured, and her heart seemed to be in her words. Unable to resist the temptation, she stroked his cheek. Without opening his eyes, he put his hand over hers, pressing her palm against his skin.
Esther spoke from the doorway. “They’re here. They see me.” In a moment the ambulance whined to a stop, and Dorcas began to feel she could breathe again.
The paramedics came in—quick and unruffled, probably used to scenes like this. Dorcas had to move away to give them space to work. Thomas released her hand slowly, his fingers drawing against her skin as if reluctant to part.
“Well, now, what have we here? Took quite a tumble, didn’t you?” The older man scrutinized him while the younger one opened the case he’d carried in.
“Missed a step,” Thomas said, seeming to need an effort to speak naturally. “I’m okay.”
The younger man did a double take. “Thomas? I thought you’d moved away from here. Haven’t seen you in years.”
“Keith.” He looked as if he’d fished the name up, frowning a little. “I’m back for a while, at least.”
A while, Dorcas echoed silently. It was a time that would end before she was ready.
She backed away to the door, and to her surprise, Mr. Haggerty came hurrying over to her. He looked a little abashed as he spoke.
“The boys said that there’d been an accident. Anything I can do?”
“Thank you for coming.” She tried to hide her surprise at his manner. “I guess no one can do anything until the paramedics finish.” Her voice wobbled a little, and she took a firm grip on it. No one must know how affected she was. They might start wondering why.
“He’s the carpenter, right?”
She nodded. “Thomas Fisher.”
“He stopped by my house this morning with the girl . . .”
“His sister, Esther. Yah, she told me she’d stopped to apologize.”
Maybe it would have been better to stay away from the grudge he had against the school, but he had brought it up. In any event, he just nodded, seeming to dismiss his anger in the midst of a crisis.
The sounds of buggies arriving distracted her. Someone would have seen the ambulance turn in at the school, and the news would have spread like the wind over the community. The first buggy belonged to Thomas and Esther’s mother and father.
“Excuse me. I’ll have to talk to the parents.”
Haggerty nodded, but he showed no disposition to leave, just stepping back where he could watch the paramedics.
Dorcas saw Joseph and Benjamin still lingering and beckoned to them. “Joseph, will you stay close in case the paramedics need anything while I see to the parents? And Benjamin, just make sure that none of the buggies gets in the way of the ambulance.”
They both nodded and hurried to do as she said. Slightly eased, she forced herself to walk away from the stable. From Thomas.
Thomas’s parents were already hurrying toward the stable, leaving Benjamin to move their buggy. Esther threw herself into her mother’s arms.
“He fell.” Her voice was shrill. “Thomas fell and he was knocked clear out.”
Dorcas reached them, looking from his mother, clearly apprehensive, to his father’s impassive face. “We heard him cry out and found him right away. The paramedics are with him now. He’s conscious and talking sensibly, so I don’t think it’s terribly serious.” Again her voice wobbled despite her efforts.
Miriam clasped her hand warmly. “We’ll go in.”
Dorcas nodded
, stepping away and letting her hand drop. Thomas’s family was there now, and she had no place in taking care of him, or making decisions, or comforting him. But she couldn’t stop herself from longing for that right.
Turning away resolutely, she went toward the schoolhouse, speaking to new arrivals as she went. Her place was with the children.
By the time parents who wanted to assure themselves that their young ones were all right had been satisfied, Dorcas saw that the paramedics were loading Thomas into the ambulance. Gesturing to Anna to take over, she fled. She had to get one more look at Thomas before he was carried away.
But when she reached the ambulance, Thomas was already loaded, and all she could do was smile at him. She turned to Miriam and Minister Lucas.
“Did the paramedics . . .” She stopped, realizing she was betraying herself.
Miriam clasped her hand again, her weathered face easing in a smile. “They don’t think it’s too serious, but he must go to the hospital to be sure. We want to go with him, but . . .” She paused, obviously thinking about how long it would take in the buggy to the hospital, especially when she longed to be with her son.
“We must get someone to drive you.” Before Dorcas could begin to think of whom to contact, Haggerty spoke up.
“They’ll want to go to the hospital. I’ll drive them. Will you tell them that?”
In the stress of the moment, they had all been speaking in dialect, and of course he wouldn’t know they could understand.
“Mr. Haggerty, this is Lucas and Miriam Fisher, Thomas’s parents.”
He nodded a little awkwardly, as if not sure what the appropriate greeting was.
“Denke, Mr. Haggerty.” Lucas exchanged glances with Miriam, and whatever he saw there told him plainly that she would jump into the first available car. “We’d be grateful.”
“Good, good.” Haggerty’s smile transformed his normally dour face. “My car’s right behind the house. This way.” He headed out the lane.
They started after him, but then Miriam turned back. “Denke, Dorcas. We’ll let you know what happens.”
“Yah, denke.” Her husband nodded, looking a little surprised, and they hurried off.
Esther ran to them, obviously wanting to go.
“You go back to your class,” her father snapped. “The hospital’s no place for you.”
For an instant, Dorcas thought Esther would erupt. Her face grew red, and there was a suspicion of tears in her eyes. She stamped her foot, then turned and fled.
It wasn’t her business how the parents decided to handle their own children, but her heart ached. She didn’t think Minister Lucas had meant to be so sharp. He was worried, but he might consider his daughter’s feelings, too. As for Esther, she’d seize any excuse for anger now. She just hoped Esther wouldn’t decide that she was to blame.
The others who had hurried to the school to see what was wrong now gathered to watch the ambulance and then the car with Thomas’s parents pull out. Joseph and his father went back to the stable, and she could see them straightening up the boards that had been knocked down.
There was nothing else she could do for Thomas, except to pray and trust. But maybe there was something she could do for his little sister.
When she returned to the classroom, the scholars were slowly getting back to work under Anna’s direction. Except for Esther, who stood near the door, her face set, obviously trying not to cry.
Dorcas spoke softly, just for Esther’s ears. “I’m sure your brother will be all right. He was awake and talking, and that’s the best sign.” She moved to put a comforting arm around the girl, but Esther shoved her arm away, hard enough to send her back a step.
“Just leave me alone.” She stamped to her desk.
Dorcas could only stand and stare after her. Esther had been unpredictable lately, but she certain sure hadn’t expected a reaction like this. It almost felt as if Esther was blaming her for Thomas’s accident.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The rest of the school day wasn’t an improvement, Dorcas decided. Worry about Thomas dragged at her, made worse by the fact that she couldn’t show it.
Thomas’s mother had said she’d let her know about Thomas, but what had she meant? That she would stop by or perhaps call the phone shanty later? For that matter, why had she said it? Did she suspect something between them?
Dorcas rejected that idea as soon as it came into her mind. She couldn’t know anything because there was nothing to know. Involuntarily, Dorcas touched her lips, feeling them warm as they had for Thomas’s kiss. She snatched her hand away and tried to focus on the children.
Fortunately they were outside for recess. Running around and playing vigorously should help get rid of whatever tension was left in them from the morning’s accident.
None of the parents had even considered taking their children home for the rest of the day, for which she was grateful. Amish parents in general weren’t overprotective. If her scholars had been upset by the accident, it was better for them to stay there and keep busy.
Except, perhaps, for Esther. She might have done better if she’d been allowed to go to the hospital with her parents, but it wasn’t for Dorcas to say. She could understand why Esther’s father had reacted as he had—he’d wanted to protect her. If only he could have found a gentler way to express himself . . .
Since it was highly unlikely that the minister would ask Dorcas’s advice about his children, she’d best forget it.
Her gaze searched the busy play area for Esther. There she was, huddled with her closest friends, Erna and Hallie Gaus. Dorcas didn’t have much trouble guessing what they were talking about. Esther seemed to speak vehemently, and all three of them cast frequent glances at Teacher Dorcas.
It was natural for Esther to be upset about her brother, but why was she suddenly so antagonistic toward her teacher? Did she imagine Dorcas should have done something to prevent the accident?
The sounds of raised voices jerked her attention away from the three girls. A quarrel had broken out over the seesaw between two of the third grade boys, flaring up in an instant. Try as she might to show her scholars that anger wasn’t an answer to a disagreement, the going was slow, especially with boys of that age.
She started toward the spat and saw that Anna had reached the boys already. Stopping, she watched her young assistant. Anna was talking to them, and although it was too far to hear the words, she could see the calm and patience in Anna’s face. Now she asked one of the boys a question, listening quietly to the answer.
Even from this distance, she could see the temperature of the quarrel going down under Anna’s influence. And when the two combatants ran off together to the swings, she could have clapped. That was very well done on Anna’s part. She had progressed immeasurably during the year.
Allowing the scholars a few extra minutes outside seemed a good idea under the circumstances. By the time they’d returned to the classroom, most of them seemed back to normal.
Except for Esther. She continued to whisper to her friends until Anna went to them and stood pointedly next to them. Then they turned away and pretended to concentrate.
Dorcas frowned. She disliked having problems with any of her scholars, but with Esther it was especially hard. It shouldn’t be, but it was.
They ended the school day with time spent on the spring program. Each age group was making a poster to illustrate some of what they’d learned during the year, and she went from amused to astonished to see what some of them thought was the most important accomplishment. Somehow she didn’t think Mark’s parents would be impressed that he’d learned to climb the tallest tree in the schoolyard.
As the children got ready to leave at the end of the school day, Dorcas opened the door. Surprised to find Mr. Haggerty standing there, she hurried to him, hoping nothing else was wrong.
“Afternoon, Teacher Dorc
as.” He smiled a little, as if pleased that he’d spoken to her as the Amish did. “I just got back from taking Thomas and his parents home. Said I’d make sure you and his sister got a report.”
She smiled, relieved already. If Thomas was home, there couldn’t be too much wrong, could there?
As the children filed past, she beckoned to Esther, who took one look at Mr. Haggerty and scurried over.
“Mr. Haggerty was kind enough to stop and let us know about your brother.”
Eagerness flushed Esther’s face as she turned to him. “Is he all right? What did they do to him at the hospital?”
“Nothing bad,” he assured her. “Your mother told me they said he had a slight concussion and some bruised ribs, but nothing worse. He has a headache and his ribs are strapped, but he was fit enough to go home.”
Esther clasped her hands together as if she’d pray, and her eyes glowed with relief. “Denke, denke. I’m so glad.”
“It’s wonderful gut news, ain’t so?” Dorcas said, trying not to let her own overwhelming happiness show. He’d be all right. She’d been trying to encourage herself with that thought for most of the day, and now she could believe it.
Esther nodded in agreement, but she lost her smile when she looked at Dorcas. “I can’t wait to see him.” She jumped down the three steps and ran full tilt down the lane.
“I guess she’s happy,” Haggerty said. “And you, too, I suppose. That was a scary thing.”
She nodded, trying not to think of the moment when she’d run into the stable and seen Thomas lying there.
“He’s always so careful. I don’t know how he came to fall.”
He shrugged. “Can happen to anybody. Anyway, I’m glad he’s going to be okay.” He hesitated, seeming to struggle with something he wanted to say. “You know, about the kids going in my yard . . .”
“You were quite right to be angry with them,” she said quickly, not eager to start defending them and herself again.
“It’s not so much them.” Haggerty paused, frowning, his face drawing in. “Where we lived before . . . well, the neighborhood changed over the years. We should have moved, but my wife loved that old house. I didn’t want to upset her, especially . . .”