The Charity

by Connie Johnson Hambley

  The last conversation with Michael was still in her head. She traced the pieces of information down every pathway she could. Each time she traced a fragment or thought, her recollection would only go so far, and it would stop. She had never tried so hard to remember. She had only listened to the voices in her head and run each time she felt the urge.

  If she ran now, she would always be running away from something. Maybe she should stay and learn to keep her ground. Right now, that mare and foal needed her. She would stay for them.

  Jessica did not see Michael that day. She caught herself several times looking over the premises to see if she would see his dark head. The evening shift was pulled by two girls in town that were decidedly horse crazy. Their parents waited for their offspring while chatting contentedly beside their Land Rovers.

  A svelte woman with thick brown hair waved Jessica over. “Now y’all just have to tell us how you’re doing? You must be running yourself ragged with that new foal to tend to, and all.”

  “No. I’m fine, thank you.”

  “When I get frazzled, I just leave! The girls go stay with their dad, and I head for the spa! You should take some time and get out of here!”

  “I’ve thought of that. I can’t now, you know, with a full barn and a new foal. I just can’t.” Jessica put her head down absently stamped the ground with a booted foot. “Your girls love horses.”

  “Why yes! Horse crazy! Absolutely horse crazy! Why! Y’all must have been just like them when you were a girl, right?”

  She thought of the summer evenings spent at her parent’s country club hating the silliness of girls just like the ones she was enjoying now. Her smile grew at the memory and slowly faded. That was a lifetime ago.

  Jessica stood in her driveway a long time after the girls and their mothers drove back down the mountain. The sky was almost black, but the far western ridges were skimmed with ribbons of red and purple. The valley below was dotted with tiny bright points of light. The stillness settled in around her. For the first time, Jessica no longer felt the comfort of solitude. A sudden chill of isolation rippled down her spine.

  Jessica brought heavy blankets from her house and walked out to the barn. It was bone-chilling cold in the barn. She thought about putting heaters in the barn as Snugs nuzzled her son affectionately, and the young foal drank another meal of warm milk.

  Jessica checked Snugs carefully. The mare was not moving well and seemed to be sluggish. Snugs had lost a lot of blood during the delivery, and it would be another day or two before she would get a clean bill of health. Until then, Jessica was determined to be at her side as much as possible. She put the blankets on the floor beside the stall door. A mattress of soft hay would cushion her for the next few nights. She fell asleep thinking of a good name for her farm’s newest tenant.

  The horse picked its head up and laughed at her with jagged blood-soaked teeth. A finely honed edge cut through the image.

  “Daddy! Daddy! Look at me! I’m flying!” Erin giggled as she hovered over the grave.

  “It’s all up to you, Jessie. You can either go the distance, or drop off at the quarter pole.” Jim looked down with love at Margaret. Bridget stood off to one side. She made a move to join them, then stopped.

  The horses laughed louder to be heard over the screaming of the tires.

  Jessica took in a big gulp of the fresh air coming in from under the back barn door. She heard the sounds of the barn in her sleep and was trying to label them as she fought to climb out of her slumber. Something was wrong. The images in her head were quickly replaced by ones of immense horror.

  The power in the barn had gone out. Jessica bolted upright as she realized that the images she saw were being illuminated by the amber flames licking up the beams of her loft. Red embers were falling down on the horses, and their panicked screams chilled Jessica to the core.

  She sprang up and raced to the front of the barn. The fire had already advanced considerably from the front of the barn and was working its way back. Jessica thought about the hose and realized with a shock that it was too little too late. She had to get the horses out of the barn.

  The terror-struck animals were bolting against their stall doors. There was no way Jessica could lead the horses out of the barn when they were so wild. Gus had taught her the trick of calming horses by wrapping their eyes with a blanket or jacket. Blinded, the horses could only follow the soft voice they had grown to trust, leading them to safety. It could be done.

  Jessica ripped off her jacket and wrapped it, almost turban style, around the panicked animals’ eyes and heads. Falling embers floated down on her exposed arms, searing into her skin. The horse’s backs were dusted with the red coals. Their frantic screams told Jessica that their thick winter coats were not offering any type of protection. The air began to fill with the acrid smell of burnt hair.

  Since the fire had eaten away most of the front of the barn, Jessica took those animals closest to the front out first. Clearing the first four stalls, she looked up as the ceiling above her glowed its warning. She wrapped the head of another horse and ran with it to the outside. It would be only moments before that loft floor would give away, crashing its burning cargo to the ground and blocking any more passage from the front.

  Jessica ran back inside the barn. Again, she launched herself at an animal crazed with the primal fear of fire and wound her jacket around its eyes. She moved to the back of the barn and tried to roll open the back door. Adrenaline surging, she braced her booted foot against the doorframe and tried to use her body as a lever to force the door open. It would not move. It had been locked from the outside.

  The fire spread unimaginably fast. Jessica stood in horror and watched as part of a massive beam fell to the ground, scattering dancing red coals across the corridor. Bales of hay not used in the night’s feedings began to come alive with flame.

  She pulled a huge chestnut colored horse along beside her and turned her head away from the blast of heat coming from the writhing beam. Once the horse heard its barn mates somewhere down the road it, too, bolted for the freedom and coolness of the night air. Her house and all of its grounds were now lit with the glowing orange flames leaping from the barn’s roof.

  Struggling to get one more horse out, she was finally able to get to Snugs and her foal. The beam now holding up the loft was hissing its intent to fall. Jessica wrapped the mare’s eyes with her jacket. The maternal instincts of the mare were strong. The big animal would not move without her son. The young foal was frantic and danced wildly about the stall. Even hardly more than a day old, the foal was one hundred pounds of unharnessed energy. Jessica did not know how she could lead two horses to safety at once.

  She raced out of the stall and grabbed one of her blankets that just minutes ago had been a safe bed for her. She threw the blanket over the mare’s head and tied her jacket over the colt, using the sleeves as a kind of halter to lead the terrified infant to safety. Talking in smooth tones, Jessica coaxed the mare out of her safe haven. The foal was even more reluctant to leave the stall. Jessica kept steady tension on the colt’s head to inch it forward to safety.

  Snugs nickered incessantly to her young son, seemingly to give encouragement and to keep it moving. She began to toss her head and stopped moving forward as the heat from the beam scorched her legs. The colt, unaccustomed to anything other than the soothing warmth of its dam, screamed with his shrill voice and refused to go further. Jessica was unable to get either of them to move.

  The hissing overhead began to increase, and the heat and smoke started to take its toll on Jessica. She tried to cover her nose and mouth, but the smoke was choking her. She tried to steady herself and was rewarded with seared lungs and suffocating smoke. She had to keep going if she wanted to save the mare and colt.

  Although still sluggish from the birth the day before, Snugs was shifting nervously from side to side. Jessica tried to use each
shift as a way to inch the horse closer and closer to the open door. She heard the beams overhead screech and moan as they began to shift lower, weakened by the insatiable flames.

  Her sides were aching, and she was losing the strength to hold on to the two horses. It was inconceivable that she would allow herself to even consider which one was going to survive.

  She did not know how long it took to inch past the huge beam. The flames had cracked its surface into a reptilian hide. She closed her eyes against the flames and heat and was only aware of her progress in that it was now the back of her legs that felt the shredding heat rather than her shins.

  The mare became disoriented. Blinded by the blanket, Snugs lost her sense of direction. She listened to the unending soothing tones of the human beside her and sensed the presence of her son. The mare allowed herself to be coaxed toward the heat trusting that coolness was just ahead of her. Suddenly, a hot coal burned its way into her hide. She tossed her head forcefully to the side and bolted forward.

  The deep rumble of the beam sinking to the corridor made Jessica whip her head up. In the same moment, Snugs yanked herself free and raced into the night. Jessica was thrown sideways by the panicked animal and lost her grip on the colt as well. Separated from its mother, the colt dashed back into the only home it knew, in the farmost stall. The beam crashed to the corridor as a curtain of sparks billowed toward Jessica.

  Smoke and flames seemed to be everywhere. The sparks from the beam skittered past Jessica and danced around her attempts to extinguish them. She looked up to see that the door to the barn was one second away from being completely blocked with flames.

  She choked on the clouds of acrid smoke that steadily filled the barn and raced back to the colt’s stall. The colt was terrified at being away from its mother and bleated helplessly for her to come back.

  Weak from hacking coughs that raked her body, she tried not to think of her agony and focused on the colt. She dunked the remaining blanket from her bed and her jacket in the bucket of water in the stall. She hobbled the colt with her belt by tying its right front and back legs together then forced it to lie down on its side. The colt was positioned so its nose was at the gap between the barn door and its frame where cool fresh air was being sucked in to feed the hungry flames. The barn filled with the sound of a freight train bearing down on her. There was not much time.

  Covering the colt’s body and head with the damp blanket, she wrapped her wet jacket around her face and crawled into the next stall. She located one more bucket of water and crawled back to the terrified colt. Dousing herself and the animal with its contents, she then crawled under the blanket and tried to soothe the colt. In one last measure of hope, she wriggled her hand underneath the door. She could feel the cool night air caress her forearm as the layers of black smoke choked out the light.

  Michael was traveling up the mountain road when he saw the orange glow. A second later, his scanner picked up a dispatch of fire apparatus to the old Smythe farm. Tires screeched as he raced to her farm. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw as he rounded the last turn. The entire roof of the barn was nothing more than black ribs of beams silhouetted against twisting yellow and orange flames.

  His truck had barely slammed to a halt as he bounded out of it toward a moving figure in the center of the drive. A horse bolted down the driveway.

  “Tess! Tess!”

  Michael quickly looked at the horses scattered about in terrified clusters. He saw Snugs but not her colt. Worse, he did not see Tess.

  Michael raced toward the barn and was forced back from the heat. He tried to shout for Tess, but his voice was thundered away on the roar of the flames. He looked into every window as he ran around the back of the barn. Nothing met his eyes but acrid heat and expanding fire.

  He jumped over the fence line that joined the turnout paddock to the back of the barn. He looked quickly for any sign of life and listened to catch any shift in the hissing of the flames that could be a cry for help. He scanned the back wall of the barn. A pale shadow of a forearm stuck out from beneath the door.

  “Tess! Tess!” He felt the cool skin of the hand. He pushed the sudden thought of dread from his mind. “I can’t be too late,” he prayed as he tried to open the door.

  It was very warm to his touch, but not hot, signaling that the fire had not progressed that far. A glowing red ember floated down from the engulfed loft above. He did not know how long he had before the fire would advance to this final corner or whether opening that door would give the flames its needed oxygen for one final incineration. It was a risk he had to take.

  Both feet jammed against the side of the barn; he uncurled his body to force the door to move. The latch was wedged shut with a metal rod. For a precious second, he tried to loosen it. Then, he drew his gun from its holster and shot the latch from its binding screws. He rolled the massive door open and was blasted backwards by the heat. Fueled by a breath of air, the writhing mass of flame rushed toward him.

  His stomach convulsed as he looked at the body of Jessica encased in a steaming molten pile of ash, curls of smoke rising from the black forms. It was a moment before he realized that the heat from the fire caused the water on the blanket to steam. He picked up her limp body and ran with her to the center of the small paddock. The young colt began to scream as the heat descended upon it. Michael rushed back and dragged the spindly animal to safety.

  Jessica was wracked by coughs and gasped for breath. Her eyes rolled back into her head. “Get him!”

  “Tess. It’s me. Michael. You’re safe now. The colt is fine. It looks like all of the horses got out.”

  The distant wail of the fire engine’s siren could be heard down in the valley. Father Steeves appeared out of the night. His large frame was illuminated by the fire. He blessed himself as he bent over Jessica’s writhing figure.

  “I was visiting down the mountain when I saw the flames and came here as fast as I could. By the hand of God alone, this child has been spared.” He turned and looked at Michael. “She’s been spared to travel more along God’s roads.”

  Michael tried to focus on the older man’s words. He wondered just where those roads were leading her.

  Jessica sputtered and drew in one long raspy gasp. “Oh, my God.” Her eyes widened in her soot-smeared face. They locked onto Michael’s face. “Michael! What happened?” Her eyes rolled toward the burning barn. “The colt! Did the colt get out?”

  “Yes, Tess. He’s out. Don’t get up.”

  “I... I can’t breathe!”

  Father Steeves bent down. “Let her sit up a bit. It’ll make it easier to breathe.”

  Michael sat down beside Jessica and held her tightly against him. He tried to steady her as she shook with fear. “The colt and horses are fine, Tess” he repeated. “Just relax. There’s nothing more you can do.” The fire engine and other vehicles finally pulled into the long drive. Men and women hurried about their jobs. The barn was a total loss, but the house and grounds could still be saved.

  Supported by Michael, Jessica tried to control her gasps for air. As much as she hated it, she was relieved when someone put an oxygen mask over her face. The waves of blackness clawing at her consciousness began to retreat. She stared mutely as the structure of the barn imploded.

  The last horse trailer pulled out of the driveway followed by a small caravan of cars and trucks of people who had spent the day helping manage the aftermath of the fire.

  Chad Bleauvelt emerged from the house and walked with a slight limp toward where Electra and Michael stood. He was wearing gray flannel trousers and a wool jacket. They nodded in welcome.

  “Tess knows the horses will get good care on my farm.” Mr. Bleauvelt stopped to listen to the heavy trucks ease slowly down the mountain grade with their nervous passengers. “They can stay as long as she needs to rebuild.” He paused and looked at the still smoking pile that was once a barn.
“My family had a barn fire years ago. I was devastated, but we came through it all right. It just takes time.”

  Electra and Michael nodded their agreement. Electra spoke first. “I know how much this means to Tess to have her horses taken care of, Chad. Thank you.”

  “No need to thank me. I had some extra stalls available. When Tess is fit enough, I’m going to enjoy watching her work with the horses again. She really has a talent there.” He motioned with his head toward the house. “She is taking this pretty badly right now. Quite a bit of bad luck lately. Such a nice girl. I hope she knows we are all behind her.”

  “I’m sure she does, Chad.” Electra sounded certain.

  “Sheriff Conant,” Mr. Bleauvelt straightened up as he addressed the law officer, “what do you think caused the blaze?”

  “It’s still under investigation.” Michael put an official edge to his voice to stop more questions before they started. He knew it was arson, but wanted time before he had to state a reason for the blaze. “Right now, the rubble is too hot for anyone to get in there to determine a cause.”

  “Well, if I can be of any further help, please call me.” Mr. Bleauvelt tipped his felt hat in a formal good-bye to Electra and drove off.

  “I’d best be going too, Michael. Tess just needs some time to herself. She hardly said three words to me aside from making arrangements for the horses and cleanup. She knows where to reach me.” Electra stopped and added over her shoulder, “You do too.”

  Michael walked slowly up to the house. He had been too busy last night and today to really absorb what had happened. The only thing he knew for sure was that Tess White was lucky to be alive, again.

  Jessica was sitting at her kitchen table with her head in her hands. She had refused to go to the hospital last night, insisting on staying until the last of her horses were cared for. The isolated burns she received from the falling embers were treated by the paramedic who had accompanied the fire trucks. She still felt the effects of smoke inhalation and would occasionally cough in shallow staccato bursts.