When he did as she told him, Lillian pulled her wet apron over her face again and stepped out into the dense smoke.
Chapter Five
The sound of an explosion had pulled Timothy, his brothers and the rest of the men working in the Bowman furniture shop outside. Timothy stared toward the bridge and saw dense smoke billowing above the trees on the north side of the river. It was impossible to tell how far away the explosion had been, but he thought it had to have been from the Hanson Farm.
Timothy’s mother came out of the house and stood on the steps, her eyes wide with fright. “What was that? Is anyone hurt?”
“It wasn’t here,” Isaac, Timothy’s father yelled across to his wife. “It came from over the river.”
Timothy’s pager started beeping. Noah’s pager went off next.
“What do you think that was? Should we head over there?” Noah asked as he silenced his pager.
“Nee,” Isaac said. “You should go with your fire crew. They will be here soon. Everyone else, come with me. Grab shovels, anything that you can use to beat out the flames. We must protect the bridge. Samuel, go to the house and have your mother give us all the towels and blankets she can spare. If we soak them, we can use them to beat out the flames. Luke, bring every fire extinguisher from the shop.” The men all ran to accomplish their tasks and were soon headed toward the footbridge.
Timothy and Noah ran up the lane toward the highway. As soon as they reached the road, a black pickup driven by their English neighbor and fireman, Walter Osborne, skidded to a halt on the pavement. Part of Walter’s job was to collect the Amish volunteers and get them to the fire station as quickly as possible. He rolled down the window and shouted, “Get in. Hurry.”
“What was it?” Timothy asked as he and Noah climbed into the backseat.
“We aren’t sure. The call came from a woman at the school. Some kind of public health worker. All she knew was that the explosion came from the Hanson Farm. The field across from the school is on fire, and the flames are heading toward them.”
Walter stepped on the gas. “I’ve got one more to pick up.”
“Who?” Noah asked.
“John Miller.” The burly local blacksmith and farrier lived a little more than a mile away.
“Did they evacuate the school?” Timothy asked, meeting Noah’s worried gaze.
Walter sent the truck rocketing down the road. “No, the fire has them cut off. The teacher decided it was safer to put the kids in a cold room. You two went to that school. What kind of cold room does it have?”
Perplexed, Timothy glanced again at Noah. His brother shrugged. Suddenly, Timothy realized what the caller might have meant. “Not a cold room, the coal room. It’s a cavelike area off to the north side of the school basement. The teacher there, Lillian Keim, is one of the smartest women I know. If anyone can keep the children safe, she can.”
He prayed for all the children in peril and for her. He’d been foolish to let a misunderstanding jeopardize their friendship. He wasn’t sure he could face himself knowing his last words to her were the ones he’d spoken in anger.
John was standing by his mailbox at the end of his lane. He still wore his big leather apron over his clothes. He didn’t bother opening the door of the truck, but vaulted into the bed and pounded on the roof to let Walter know he was on board.
Walter hit the gas again. In a few minutes, they reached a white steel building that sat by itself on a plot of land just off the highway. The wail of a siren blared from a speaker on the roof as one of the two metal garage doors rose. The main fire engine pulled out just as a second pickup loaded with volunteers turned into the parking lot. The men, all Amish farmers and their non-Amish driver, piled out, grabbed their gear and quickly jumped onto the engine. There was none of the usual chatter today. Many of the men had children or grandchildren at the school.
As the others pulled away, Timothy and Noah entered the building and donned their fire gear. The coats, pants and hats were heavy, but if they had to enter a burning building, their fireproof gear would be needed along with their air packs.
The men quickly settled themselves in the station’s smaller fire truck and pulled out of the building with Walter in the driver’s seat. As they sped down the road toward the river, Timothy saw dozens of men and boys, some in wagons and some on foot and horseback, heading in the same direction.
The first fire truck had been stopped just past the covered bridge by a wall of flames. A burning tree blocked the road, and the woods on either side were heavily involved. Through the dense smoke, Timothy could make out the farmhouse with flames licking out from under the roof. This was a bad one.
Timothy’s radio crackled and he heard the fire chief’s voice. “Truck Two, get your hoses on that tree. We’ve got to get it out of our way.”
Noah and Timothy leaped off the vehicle to comply. As they unreeled a line, Timothy found himself working side by side with men in fire gear and men in straw hats and suspenders. Every fire call he’d been involved with was the same. Neighbors rushed in to help each other.
With the line stretched, Timothy braced for the pressure surge as the water filled the hose. More men grabbed on behind him, and within a few moments he had a wide spray of water soaking the roadblock. The blaze was quickly extinguished. Timothy dialed back the pressure and kept a light spray covering the two men who rushed forward with chain saws. Someone produced a log chain. The downed tree was hooked to the main fire truck and quickly pulled aside.
The fire commander came up calling orders. “Truck One, get your crew up to the farmhouse. We have injuries there. Truck Two, get to the school. We have a tanker coming from Berlin, but they’re twenty minutes out. This road is the only way in and there are ten farms past this point. I’ve called for aircraft support and we have a chopper coming.”
“In this wind?” Walter asked in amazement.
“They know we have a school full of children out there, and the crew is willing to risk it. Let’s pray they can get a dump on the school before it’s too late.”
They couldn’t be too late. Timothy had to believe that Lillian and the children were safe.
He jumped back on board the engine. Their smaller vehicle held only five hundred gallons of water. The larger truck held a thousand gallons. Without fire hydrants to hook up to in rural areas, the only water available was what the trucks carried. Timothy looked at the blaze leaping from treetop to treetop and roaring through the cornfield in front of them. They were definitely going to need more water.
* * *
Thick smoke made Lillian’s eyes water so badly she could barely see the heavy-gauge wire wrapped around the coal chute door handles. The stiff wire had been turned tightly and it refused to unwind. A burning corn leaf swirled in and landed on her arm, scorching her sleeve. She beat out the ember with her palm, but it left a charred hole in her dress.
The roar and crackle of the approaching fire was so loud she wanted to put her hands over her ears and hide. How could this be happening?
She glanced up into the roiling ember-filled smoke sweeping over everything. The firestorm would soon be past, but that didn’t mean the building would be spared. The children were safe where they were, but they had to have an escape route if the school caught fire and they couldn’t get out that way.
She bent with renewed determination and finally freed the wire, throwing it aside. She noticed blood on her hands, but she didn’t take time to look for her injury. Another blazing ember landed on her arm. She shook it off, stomping it out with her shoe as it started to spread through the grass at her feet. Looking around, she saw several other small fires in the grass. It was then she noticed the barn roof was already on fire. Flames were licking at the front of Debra’s car from a cedar bush beside it.
Lillian grabbed the handle of one iron door. She needed to get
under cover and out of the smoke. Although the wire was off the handles, the door wouldn’t budge. She tried the other one without success. The smoke was choking her even through the cloth over her face. She grew light-headed. Fear and frustration tore a cry of anguish from her throat as she looked to the heavens. “Please, Lord, give me strength.”
* * *
Walter drove into the dense smoke as quickly as he dared. Noah kept an eye on the right edge of the road while Timothy kept an eye on the left side and they were able to help guide him along. Once they passed out of the woods, the going was easier. The corn, while providing plenty of fuel for the fire, had burned off quickly, leaving only charred smoldering stubble in the field. Embers danced around them in the air. As they drew close to the school, Timothy could see a wall of flames in front of them being pushed by the wind.
“We’ve got to get in front of this,” Walter said through gritted teeth.
Timothy tried to judge how far they were from the school, but he couldn’t make out the building through the smoke. “The fire’s speed may work in our favor.”
“How?” Noah asked.
Walter swung the truck away from a blazing cedar at the edge of the road. “The fire can go around the school so quickly that the structure may not catch fire. A lot of buildings are lost to smoldering embers that ignite after the main fire has passed.”
A gust of wind opened a break in the smoke. Timothy caught sight of the school. It was still standing. But for how long?
Please, Lord, keep them safe. Have mercy on the children. On Lillian.
Walter maneuvered the fire truck onto the front lawn of the school. The far end of the front porch was already burning. Noah, Timothy and John were out of the vehicle a second later and pulling the hose into position to soak the main building. Timothy saw that the small stable behind the school was already engulfed in flames. A blazing car sat beside it, but there was nothing they could do. They didn’t have enough water. The heavy smoke made visibility almost nil as the wind whipped burning embers all around them.
Once they had a steady stream of water pouring onto the front of the school, Walter tapped Timothy on the shoulder. “Check inside. We don’t have much water left.”
Sprinting up the steps, he raced inside. The room was empty as he had expected, but he shouted for Lillian at the top of his lungs. He didn’t get a reply. The stairs to the basement were at the rear of the building. The wooden steps were old and steep. In the pitch-black cellar, he turned on his lantern and shouted again. This time, he heard voices answering him.
He pulled open the coal room door. “Is everyone okay?”
Several dozen frightened faces stared back at him from the gloom. Lillian wasn’t among them. His heart dropped like a rock. “Where’s your teacher? Where’s Lillian?”
Chapter Six
Timothy moved into the group of children and saw Susan Yoder sitting beside Debra on the floor. She pointed to the back of the room. “Lillian is outside trying to open the doors.”
Timothy waded through the rest of the children to reach the back of the coal cellar. His torch illuminated the rungs of an iron ladder set into the stone wall. Overhead, a pair of rusty iron doors remained closed, but he could see light coming in around them. “Lillian, are you there?”
“I’m here.” Her muffled voice came from above. “There was a piece of wire around the handles. I got it off, but I still can’t lift the door. I think the hinges are rusted shut.” A coughing fit followed her words.
He pushed against the door, but it wouldn’t budge. Smoke swirled in through the opening. The crackle of the fire outside grew steadily louder.
He grabbed his radio mike. “Can someone get around back and help Lillian pry open the cellar doors on the north side of the building?”
“No can do at the moment,” Walter’s breathless voice crackled over the radio. “The porch is on fire and we’re out of water. Stay put if you and the kids are safe. Captain says the chopper is on its way.”
Without water, all the men had to smother the fire with was the dirt they could dig and shovel on it. He glanced at the children gathered around him. “We’re okay. Get Lillian to safety if it gets too close.”
Timothy stepped up and wedged his shoulder against the door. If the school went up in flames, this would be the only way out. He shoved and it creaked open a bare inch. Abe and Gabriel came in with a couple of chairs, stood on them and reaching up added their strength to the task. It wasn’t enough.
Then suddenly, the old door gave a groan and swung upward. Timothy saw Lillian looking down at him, and his heart started beating again. She was covered in soot but unharmed. He’d never been so glad to see anyone. Beside her stood John Miller. Timothy knew he had the blacksmith’s strength to thank for getting the door open.
“Lillian, are you okay?” Timothy asked.
“Ja, I’m fine.” She started down the ladder.
He climbed down and waited until she reached the floor beside him. Then he pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight. She was safe and it felt so right to hold her in his arms. “I didn’t know what to think when I didn’t see you with the children.”
His radio crackled to life. “We have to pull back. The chopper is here. Prepare for a water dump,” Walter shouted.
John shut the doors, plunging them into darkness. Timothy reluctantly let go of Lillian, fighting the urge to gather her into his arms and hold her close again. This wasn’t the time or the place.
She took a step back, but her fingers caressed his cheek before she crossed her arms and dropped her gaze to the floor. Something was different between them. He forced his mind back to the crisis at hand. “Are all the children here?”
“Ja, they are all here.”
He faced her students. “A helicopter is coming to dump a big bucket of water over the school. It’s going to make a lot of noise, but we are safe in here. Your teacher picked the best possible place for you.”
Lillian gave him a weak smile. He clicked on his radio. “Go ahead.”
As soon as he spoke, the sound of the rotor blades roared in overhead. The building trembled in the force of the downdraft, sending dust drifting down from the basement ceiling. A loud swoosh was followed by the sound of water hammering onto the roof. Some gushed in through the old coal chute, soaking the stones at the back of the cave. Less than a minute later, the sound of the helicopter faded into the distance.
Noah came down the basement stairs, his helmet lantern casting a bright arc of light before him. “Is everyone all right?”
Timothy stepped out of the cave and slapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “We’re fine.”
Susan stood up. “We have one injury. Debra twisted her ankle coming down the stairs.”
“It’s not serious. Take care of the children,” Debra said from her place on the floor.
“Where’s Hannah?” Noah looked over the crowd of children pressing close.
“I’m right here, Onkel Noah.”
“They are all present and accounted for,” Lillian assured him.
Noah’s worried face relaxed. “The captain will let a convoy of vehicles in to collect the kinder as soon as the tanker from Berlin can put out any spot fires between us and the bridge. Daed told him everyone is welcome to go to our house.”
“Is it safe for us to stay here?” Lillian asked.
“I think so,” Noah said. “The fire has moved on.”
“Then I’m staying here with the children until their parents come to collect them or it is safe to let them go home.”
Walter came to the top of the stairs. “We have to go, guys. The tanker has set up the portable pond just up the road. We need to refill and get up to the ridge.”
As much as Timothy wanted to stay with Lillian and the children, he still had a job to do. There
were people, homes, livestock and crops still in danger. He knelt beside Debra. “Can you walk?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
Noah stepped up beside her. “Let’s get you out of this dark cellar so we can take a proper look at your ankle.” He lifted her in his arms.
The movement brought tears to her eyes. “How am I going to drive my car like this?”
Noah hesitated, but said, “The fire got your car.”
She looked up with wide shocked eyes. “Are you serious?”
He nodded. “I’m afraid so.”
“What am I going to do?”
Lillian patted her shoulder. “You’re welcome to stay with me until you can sort it out. I’m sure we can find a driver to take you home if you don’t have someone who can come and get you.”
Timothy knew Lillian well enough to hear the slight hesitation in her voice. Her family wasn’t as open to outsiders as his was. Plus, her family’s farm was in the path of the fire on the other side of the ridge. She might not have a home to go to tonight. He followed as Noah carried Debra up the stairs, taking care not to jostle her more than necessary. Once he reached the schoolroom, Lillian stepped around him and pulled her chair away from the desk. He placed Debra gently in it.
Lillian turned over the wastebasket, pulled a sweater from the bottom drawer of her desk and folded it for Debra to elevate her foot on.
“Danki, Lillian.” Noah gently raised Debra’s leg. The ankle was swollen and turning dark. He gave her a halfhearted smile. “Nurse, what is your professional opinion? Do you need a doctor? I can call for an ambulance, but it may take a while.”
She gently felt the sides and top of her foot. “I think it’s just a bad sprain. Ice it, wrap it snugly and keep it elevated would be my professional advice. Leave the ambulance free for someone who truly needs it.”
“As you wish. I know Lillian will take good care of you.” Noah rose to his feet and headed for the door.
Lillian caught Timothy by the arm. “God go with you and be careful not to make His job more difficult.”
His Amish Teacher Page 5