by Patti Berg
Now if the Bread of Life Harvest Festival could go off in the same way—without a hitch.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
A MASS OF PEOPLE STOOD IN LINE TO THROW balls at the poor saps who were on the verge of getting dunked. Police Chief Brian O’Hanlon had been the first to go. He had a half-hour slot, starting just a few minutes after the festival opened, and so far he’d brought in eighty-five bucks.
“Think I can’t knock you in, Chief?” Cesar shouted. He was standing in his old-fashioned striped bathing suit with a boater hat tied with a bright orange ribbon, and because it was cold, he had on a pair of gray wool socks and combat boots. It was a crazy outfit, but the folks at the festival loved it, taking his picture, one of which was bound to end up on the front page of the Dispatch.
Elena planned to put it on the Web site too. What a kick that would be.
“You’re all talk, Rodriguez,” the chief shouted back, egging Cesar on.
“I’ve got nine balls here,” Cesar said, winding up his pitching arm, “and I say at least eight of them knock you in.”
“I’m not a betting man, Rodriguez, but if you’re right, I’ll work your shift one day. If you’re wrong—”
“If I’m wrong, I’ll rake your yard one day next week.”
“Not just my yard, Rodriguez. Let’s say mine and Sergeant McDaniels’—and he’s got five acres.”
“It’s a deal.”
Cesar wound up, putting on a show. The crowd grew. And grew.
Cesar launched his pitch and hit the target dead on.
The chief made a huge splash, and the crowd roared.
“All right, Chief,” Cesar shouted, the moment Brian came up for air. “Up and at ’em. That’s one out of nine. Eight more to go—and in case no one ever told you, I was the number one pitcher at Deerford High three years running. They nicknamed me Nolan Ryan, and you don’t get that moniker unless you’re good.”
Elena just stood there in her own old-fashioned striped swimming suit, boater hat and pigtails laughing at the two grown men who’d grumbled about taking a turn in the dunk tank, but were suddenly having the time of their lives.
The Bread of Life Harvest Festival was a success.
Elena wanted to shout for joy, but she’d wait and do that when she bought nine balls and tried to dunk her husband. Of course, she knew turnabout would be fair play, and that she was bound to go in more than a time or two or three.
She left the dunk tank, walking around the booths.
“Any sales yet?” she asked Cameron Scott, who sat inside his pumpkin-and gourd-decorated booth, selling bricks for the Wall of Hope.
“Six, and that’s in just the first half hour.”
Cameron stood, doing some deep knee bends, those very same knees cracking as he went down then back up again.
“So, what do you think of my sales chart?” He pointed to the screaming yellow poster board with Support Hope Haven’s Wall of Hope printed at the top, sitting on an easel. “Each ear of Indian corn on the money scale signifies one brick at fifty bucks,” he said. “Just don’t look too close, ’cause I’m the one who bought the first one, something no one else needs to know.”
Elena gave her friend a hug. “Keep up the good work, Cameron. Just don’t go broke in the process.”
A few booths down, Elena found Brooke, Howie and Izzy, supervised by Anabelle, since Candace had been asked to work, collecting Pennies for Habitat for Humanity. Heath Carlson stood at the booth rummaging through his wallet.
“Buela!” Izzy ran out from behind the booth and launched herself into Elena’s arms. “We’ve made five hundred seventy pennies so far.”
“That’s five dollars and seventy cents, Izzy,” Anabelle said, leaning against the counter of the booth, wearing a scarecrow costume, while Izzy was dressed as harvest princesses in gold, green and amber satin and tulle, wearing crowns Anabelle had supplied from her days as high school prom and homecoming queen.
“Put your pennies here,” Howie called out to a couple passing by. “Put your pennies here. Buy a stove for Habitat for Humanity.”
“I think we should hook him up with Cesar. They make a pretty good sales team.” Elena set Isabel back down so she could go into salesperson mode too.
“Pennies, please. Pennies, please,” Izzy yelled, trying to out-shout Howie, and one couple after another stopped by, emptying the pennies out of their pockets.
“How many pennies would this be?” Heath asked the children handing them a ten-dollar bill.
Isabel’s and Howie’s eyes widened.
“Like a million!” Izzy squealed.
“More like a thousand,” Elena said with a laugh.
Heath smiled and winked at Elena and Isabel as he continued to the next booth.
Elena watched for a moment, noticing that poor Brooke was standing at the back of the booth, picking at a hangnail, bored to tears. Typical eleven-year-old girl.
“Any idea what time the auction’s going to be?” Anabelle asked. “I’d like to see how it goes.”
“Three thirty. Just close up shop whenever you need to take a break. And make sure you take Brooke, Izzy and Howie to see how beautiful the quilt looks hanging up inside the auction booth.”
“Are people looking at it?”
“Along with the dunk tank, it’s the biggest hit of the festival.”
Anabelle smiled. “You know, you spend so much time on a project like that, and you love it yourself, but you never know what others will think.”
“You don’t need to worry, Anabelle. It’s going to make a fortune.”
They chatted for a few more minutes before Elena took off, needing to tour the rest of the festival. The weather had turned out so beautiful that the booths had been set up both inside and out; and everywhere Elena walked, she could smell the aroma of hot dogs, corn dogs, cinnamon rolls, deep fried Snickers and hamburgers.
With her stomach growling, Elena picked up a funnel cake, munching on its sugary sweetness when she stopped at the face painting and balloon animal booth.
Elena laughed out loud. “I don’t believe it.”
“Don’t believe what?” James asked, as he sat on the stool in front of Megan—who was dressed as a pumpkin queen—having a fire-breathing dragon painted on his cheek. “This is the real me.”
“Yeah, that’s you all right. The bad boy.”
“I paid good money for this,” James said. “If you’re not careful, I’ll buy ten bucks worth of balls to knock you into the dunk tank.”
“You wouldn’t.”
James’s brow rose good and high. “I would, Mrs. Rodriguez, and I’m nearly as good as your husband.”
“Where’s Fern?” Elena asked, once the teasing was over and she had a chance to worry about James’s wife.
“Keeping Ainslee and Kirstie company at the quilt booth.”
“Hey, Dad!” Nelson ran across the church activity center, his tennis shoes squeaking on the floor. He had a hot dog in one hand and a chocolate-covered banana in the other. “Can I bum another five bucks? I want to knock Officer Rodriguez in the dunk tank.”
“I thought that was just a dollar for three throws,” James said.
“Yeah, it is just a dollar, but I might not get him on the first three. I’m not all that good a shot, you know.”
James dug into his pocket, pulled out his wallet and sorted through the bills for a five.
“Have you seen your brother?” he asked.
“He’s shooting hoops in the gym, trying to impress some girls. You know how it is, Dad, at Gideon’s age kids aren’t all that keen on harvest festivals.”
“No, I guess not.” James laughed and handed the five to Nelson. “Here you go. But why are you so anxious to dunk Officer Rodriguez?”
“Do I have to have a reason? It just sounds like fun.”
He had a point. Megan painted a quick butterfly on Elena’s cheek before she said good-bye and headed back to the dunk tank. If it was Cesar’s turn, she needed to get in line.
Cesar was dry as could be sitting on the bench in the collapsible cage, but Nelson was up and determined to get him.
“Hey, Nelson,” Cesar shouted, “I’ll give you five dollars if you wait a while and try to dunk my wife instead of me.”
Elena indignantly put her hands on her hips. “No fair, Rodriguez!” she hollered. “You can’t bribe the customers.”
Nelson wound up his pitching arm. “And it’s you I’m interested in, Officer Rodriguez.”
“Why me? I never did anything to you.”
“Just because.” Nelson threw, his ball ending up a good ten feet from the dunk tank.
“You know, Nelson,” Elena said, taking hold of his shoulders, “I think someone forgot to tell you that guys who are thirteen years old and terrific at science get to stand closer to the dunk tank when they throw.”
“That’s a pretty good rule, Mrs. Rodriguez. How much closer do I get to go?”
“Well, let’s just start walking and figure out where we should stop.”
They were about ten feet away when Elena finally let go of Nelson’s shoulders. “Give that a shot.”
Nelson did.
Cesar went down.
The crowd roared again.
And Elena’s cell phone rang.
Every person who’d paid for a booth had Elena’s number. All the coordinators and volunteers had her number. Hopefully nothing had gone wrong.
“Hello.”
“Elena, it’s Candace.”
“But you’re at the—” Elena’s stomach clenched. Candace wouldn’t have called from the hospital unless something was wrong. But she tried to remain calm.
“Is everything okay?” Elena asked.
“It’s Ginger.”
When Ginger had called early this morning to say she didn’t feel up to coming to the festival, Elena wondered if the baby had decided to come a few days early. “Please tell me she’s okay. She hasn’t gone into labor already, has she?”
“I don’t know how to say this, Elena, but…she’s lost the baby.”
A horrid knot settled in Elena’s throat. “No. Please, no.”
Elena looked toward Cesar. She was a nurse and she dealt with death all the time, but right this moment, she needed her husband. And as if he could sense her need, he climbed out of the dunk tank and ran toward her.
“Hey, everyone, give me a shot,” Chief O’Hanlon called out. There was something about cops. They always knew when something was wrong, and they took charge. Brian was taking charge now, turning the attention back to him, and away from Cesar and Elena, who moved away from the crowd so she could talk.
“Is Steve with her?” Elena asked.
“He was out on a fire when she went into labor and got here as soon as he could. We hoped we could save the baby, but…” Candace’s voice, a near whisper, trailed off.
Hot tears washed down Elena’s face. Cesar’s arm went around her waist, holding her close.
“I didn’t want to bother you, Elena. Ginger didn’t want me to call, either, but I knew you’d want to be here for her. At least for a little while.”
“I’ll be there in a few minutes. Cesar’s here. He’ll let Quintessa know what’s going on and…and I’ll be there.”
“Why don’t you let me take you?” Cesar said, when Elena hung up the phone.
“No, stay here. Please.” Elena wiped tears from her eyes. “Go make money in the dunk tank and help Rafael get big bucks for the quilt—just in case I’m not back.”
“You don’t have to come back, hon.”
“Yes I do.” She kissed him softly. “The last thing I need right now is to have free time on my hands. I’d just try to understand why this happened.” Elena struggled to push the thought from her mind but she couldn’t. How could God take another baby away from Ginger and Steve? Such kind people who loved that baby so much and wanted nothing more than to meet her?
And for the first time in a long time, Elena couldn’t put words together into a prayer.
Elena stood at the side of Ginger’s hospital bed, holding her hand, wishing she could find something comforting to say. But it was Ginger who did the talking.
“She’s beautiful. She was beautiful, so tiny, with red hair, just like mine.”
“Don’t do this to yourself,” Steve said, sitting in a chair beneath the room’s window. His eyes were red. He looked like he wanted to scream. “You can’t talk about her like she—” Steve dragged in a deep breath. “I’ve got to get out of here for a little while.”
“Don’t go,” Elena called after him, but he’d already gone from the room.
“It’s okay, Elena,” Ginger said, squeezing her hand. “This has really hit him hard.”
“What about you?”
“Someone has to be strong,” Ginger said. “Steve stayed tough the last three times. This time I have to hang on, because he can’t deal with losing another baby and watching me go out of my mind with grief.”
How could she be so strong? Elena wondered. Or was she in shock? Too numb to scream or cry.
“Can I get you anything?” Elena asked, wishing there was something she could do, but feeling helpless.
Ginger shook her head. “Pastor Tom was here and he prayed with Steve and me. I talked with my mom and she said she could be here in a couple of days.” Her voice began to quiver. “And I know Steve and I will get through this okay, but…” Her tears began to flow and Elena took her into her arms and let her cry.
Elena felt her own tears stinging her eyes and she wanted to pray, wanted to talk with God about what had happened, but the only words that came were “Why, Lord? Why?”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
THAT NIGHT, ELENA WAS SITTING ALONE IN THE hospital chapel when Cesar entered.
He slid into the pew beside her and took hold of her hand. “We made $4,702 on the quilt, and Anabelle couldn’t have been happier.”
Elena turned to Cesar. She wanted to smile, but she couldn’t find the strength.
“I’m glad you came to be with Ginger and Steve,” he said. “They needed you.”
“I thought about trying to be there for the auction, but for some strange reason, I just wanted to sit here after I saw them.”
“I can understand that,” Cesar said, caressing a tear away from her cheek. “This is where you feel closer to God.”
Elena shook her head. “I don’t feel close to Him at all right now. I don’t even feel Him in this chapel, and I sure didn’t feel Him anywhere near when I was upstairs with Ginger.”
“You’re just upset.”
“I prayed so many times over the last few weeks. We all did, asking God to bring that baby into the world for Steve and Ginger. They’d already lost three babies. Why did they have to lose this one too?”
“My mother used to cry when she lost someone she loved, and she’d pray. And when I’d ask her how she could keep on praying when God had let someone die, she’d just say, ‘He moves in mysterious ways. We must have faith in Him.’ When my mom was dying, I wanted to believe with all my heart. I wanted God to save her. I begged Him for a miracle, and when He let her die, I just became less of a believer. But you…you can’t lose your faith, Elena. You need it now to get you through this.”
They sat in silence for several minutes.
Cesar swallowed hard, squeezing Elena’s hand tighter. “You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about God since I found Caleb. I wasn’t even on duty in that area. If I hadn’t been there for a call that turned out to be false, I wouldn’t have been close to the creek. I wouldn’t have gotten to Caleb as fast as I did. But because of that false call—I was there. Because of that false call, I was able to save Caleb. I think my mother was right. God does move in mysterious ways.”
Elena bowed her head. Once again she tried to pray, but it was like she’d forgotten how.
“I have a little something for you,” Cesar said. “Something I hope will help with what you’re going through right now.”
Elena til
ted her head toward her husband as he opened a small black box. He unfolded the tissue paper inside that looked like it had once been white, but was now yellowed with age. There inside rested a beautiful gold filigree cross on a delicate chain.
“This was my mother’s,” he said. “You never met her, but she would’ve loved you, and she would have told me I was a very lucky man to have found such a special lady.”
“I’m sure I would have loved her too.” Elena attempted a smile. “After all, she raised you.”
“My mother believed in God with all her heart and all her soul. She wore this cross always, and I remember her reaching up to her chest and holding on to it when she was troubled or in pain. Even as she died, she held on to it. We were in the hospital and I was holding her hand and she told me that God was with her. I didn’t believe it then, but I think I’m starting to believe it now.”
Cesar pushed up from the pew and slipped the cross and chain around Elena’s neck, latching it at the back.
“My mother would have wanted you to have this. She’d want you to hold on to it. She’d want you to regain that solid faith of yours again.” Cesar gently kissed Elena’s brow. “I want you to find your faith again.”
It was nearly freezing outside when Elena pulled into the parking lot on Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving. In spite of the cold, the sky was blue and cloudless. She couldn’t have asked for a better day to stand with the people from Habitat for Humanity to watch three new homeowners step inside their furnished homes for the first time.
They’d cried and laughed, and Elena had cried and laughed right along with them.
As she walked past the leafless floribundas, she found herself mentally making a list of all the things she had to do before the celebration she and Cesar would be holding at their home tomorrow for a houseload of family. Cesar wanted peanut butter fudge. Rafael wanted yams, mashed potatoes and stuffing. Izzy wanted everyone to watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade with her.
Elena had invited Ginger and Steve to spend the day. Whether they’d come or not, she didn’t know. She could only hope and pray.
As she neared the hospital, Elena felt the sudden need to clutch the cross she wore around her neck. It had given her strength over the last few days, calmed her when she was feeling down.