by Ruth Reid
Levi stroked his hand over her cheek, and all reason to defend Andrew left her thoughts. Her eyes closed. Last night he had surprised her with a kiss. Today she’d be better prepared to respond.
“Are we alone?” he whispered.
“Uh-huh.” She opened her eyes and leaned in toward him as his gaze drifted to her lips.
He leaned forward, but the squeak of the front door opening stilled them both.
“Judith?” Aenti Lilly called from the entry.
Levi stepped back, his eyes locked on her. “Would you spend time with me tonight?”
Every nerve in Judith’s body flared to life. She steadied her fluttering heart with a deep breath. “Today isn’t Sunday. There’s no singing tonight.”
He grinned. “I don’t want to sing.”
Aenti Lilly entered the kitchen. “There you are. Amos is driving me to the hospital to take food to your parents. I thought maybe you’d like to go along and see Samuel.”
Judith wiped her hands against her apron. “Jah, I would.”
Levi cleared his throat. “Tell your daed not to worry about the cows. I’ll kumm back later this evening to milk them.”
Judith smiled, looking forward to seeing him later. “I’ll tell him, denki.” She walked him to the door. Sorry, she mouthed.
Aenti Lilly removed Judith’s cape from the wall peg and handed it to her. “We’ll be gone the better part of the day. I have a few egg deliveries to make on our ride into town.”
The twelve-mile buggy ride into town passed uninterrupted as Judith relived those few moments with Levi. Even the blaring car horns of the drivers behind their buggy didn’t disrupt her daydreaming. She sighed, recalling how Levi said she’d make a good wife. Her life’s purpose to serve God and her husband in faithful obedience would happen in the near future. How wonderful it would be when the others no longer viewed her as a girl, but as a married woman.
After making several stops to deliver eggs, they arrived in the city limits of Hope Falls.
Onkle Amos turned onto Oak Street and stopped the buggy at the front entrance of the medical center. “I’ll see if there’s a place to tie the horse,” he said as she and Aenti Lilly stepped down from the buggy.
While Aenti Lilly asked the woman at the volunteers’ desk for Samuel’s room number, Judith took in the new surroundings. She’d never been inside the hospital and marveled at how clean and modern the place looked.
Judith followed her aunt into the elevator and gripped the handrail until the ride came to a shuddering stop. Once the door opened, it was easy to see they had stepped into the children’s ward—zoo animals decorated the walls. Aenti Lilly read the room numbers on each door aloud as they walked down the hall to Samuel’s room.
Judith rushed to Samuel’s bedside, eager to hear how he felt and what he thought of the hospital.
“He’s asleep,” David said from the corner where he sat. His tousled hair looked as if he’d combed his fingers through it most of the night, and his eyes were bloodshot.
“This late?” Judith’s mouth dropped open. Samuel was an early riser. He never slept past seven. “Where’re Mamm and Daed?”
“The neighbor drove them to the haus. They didn’t sleep.”
Aenti Lilly came around the other side of the bed. “What did the doctor say?”
David rubbed his beard. “The tests haven’t come back for them to determine the full extent of his injuries. But they don’t think his brain is swelling.”
Judith swallowed. “Does that mean he’s going to be okay?”
David shrugged. “Only God knows.” He glanced at Aenti Lilly. “Do I smell roast chicken?”
Aenti Lilly held up the lunch tin. “Enough for your mamm and daed as well.” She handed him the container and said, “There’s no reason to sit here and juggle the food on your lap. Judith and I will sit with Samuel.”
Judith gazed at how peaceful Samuel appeared while asleep, then looked over at David. “Aenti Lilly is right, you need to eat something. You’ve sat with him all night.”
David seemed reluctant to leave the child’s side. “You’ll stay close to him?”
Judith nodded. “Jah, I won’t leave him.”
He turned to Aenti Lilly. “I am hungry.”
Aenti Lilly walked him out, then poked her head back into the room. “I’m going to tell Amos what room Samuel’s in. I won’t be long.”
Judith slid the chair that David had sat in closer to the bed so she could hold Samuel’s hand.
“You muscht wake up, Samuel.” She closed her eyes, feeling them fill with tears. “Your steps are ordered by God.”
When she opened her eyes, a woman had entered the room. Dressed in what looked like a navy-dyed bedsheet made into a matching set of shirt and pants, the woman walked up to the bed rail.
“Hi, I’m Val, Samuel’s nurse.”
“I’m Samuel’s sister Judith.”
The nurse studied her watch while holding Samuel’s wrist. Next she listened to his heart. Judith stood when the nurse removed what looked like a pen from her shirt pocket and aimed it into Samuel’s eyes as she pried them opened.
“Why are you doing that?”
The nurse clicked the end of the pen, and the light went out. “I’m checking to see if his pupils react to the light and if they’re equal size.”
“What for?”
“It monitors for swelling after a head injury.” The nurse removed a clipboard from the foot of the bed and jotted something on the paper. Then she injected a syringe into the plastic tubing, and yellow-tinged medicine went into the IV line.
“What are you giving him?”
The nurse tossed the empty syringe into a red box. “It’s a steroid to help reduce the swelling around his spinal cord.”
Judith gazed at Samuel. He looked frail and small beneath the bedclothes.
“I’ll be at the nurses’ desk if you should need anything.”
Before Judith could ask what spinal swelling meant, the nurse had already left the room. Judith eased into the chair. “God, please take away his swelling.”
Samuel whimpered then, and Judith rose from the chair.
“Mamm?”
Judith leaned over the bed rail. “It’s Judith, Samuel. I’m here with you.” She stroked his arm.
“Where am I, Judith?” He sounded frightened, disoriented.
“I’m going to get the nurse,” Judith said.
But Samuel clutched her hand. “I’m afraid. Don’t leave me.”
Before Judith could reassure him that she would be right back, the door opened and David entered the room. “He just nau woke up.”
David pivoted around. “Stay with him. I’ll fetch the nurse.”
Within seconds, the nurse entered with David on her heels. She walked over to Samuel’s bed and addressed the boy. “My name is Val. Can you tell me your name?”
“His name is Samuel,” David answered for him.
The nurse frowned. “I need him to answer.” She turned her attention back to Samuel and smiled. “Can you tell me how you feel?”
“Where’s Mamm?”
David bent closer to the bed, impatience etched across his face. “Samuel, answer the nurse. It’s important.”
“I hurt. I want Mamm.”
Samuel started to cry, and Judith reached over the rail and stroked his matted hair away from his face. “Samuel, tell the nurse what hurts.”
“I need to ask you a few questions.” The nurse reached for Samuel’s hand. “Will you try to answer me?”
“Yes, he will,” David responded.
The nurse sighed. “I know you’re concerned about your brother, but I’ll have to ask you to leave if you answer for him again. It’s important after an accident of this nature that he answer for himself.”
David exhaled. “I see.”
“Samuel, can you squeeze my finger?”
Judith held her breath as she tried to gauge the nurse’s expression.
David leaned over t
he bed rail. “Are you trying, Samuel?”
Judith thought it was the sound of frustration in David’s voice that caused Samuel to pull his hand away from the nurse and lodge it under his opposite armpit. She wanted to nudge Samuel herself to reply, but in a nonintimidating way. David’s impatience, likely due to his lack of sleep, showed.
The nurse looked up to the ceiling. “Can you point to the elephant?”
Judith looked up and for the first time saw the jungle scene painted on the tiles above them.
Samuel’s eyes lit up at seeing the colorful artwork. With reluctance, he withdrew his hand from its guarded position and pointed. His gaze roamed the ceiling with boyish curiosity.
Judith smiled, wondering if the paintings reminded him, as they did her, of the Bible stories of the Garden of Eden.
“What about the colors on the butterfly? I see red. What other colors do you see?” Val moved down to the foot of the bed as Samuel studied the painted butterfly.
“Gayl and bloh.”
Judith looked to the ceiling. “Es gut, Samuel.” Her words slipped out, and she bit her lip. She didn’t want Val to reprimand her.
The nurse pulled back the covers to expose Samuel’s feet. “Will you try wiggling your toes for me?”
Samuel’s toes didn’t move. Judith’s focus shifted to Val, but the nurse kept her expression neutral.
Val removed a pen from her pocket and, with the capped end, slid it from his heel upward.
David moved from the foot of the bed back up to the head in one quick step. “Samuel, can you feel what she’s doing to your foot?”
“Nay.” His voice squeaked.
“He’s frightened. He’s never been in a hospital,” Judith volunteered.
Val nodded, then returned the covers over his feet. “I’ll page the doctor and see if he’s on the floor.”
Once the nurse left, David pulled the covers back again to view Samuel’s feet. He touched them. “Samuel, do your feet feel cold?”
“Do I have socks on?”
Judith’s throat tightened. Samuel’s feet were bare.
She turned to David, unable to verbalize the question in her mind. David blinked several times as though he might cry. She’d never seen him break down.
David took Samuel’s foot in both hands. “Do you know if my hand is on your foot or not?”
Lying flat on his back, Samuel raised his head to see his feet. His nose scrunched, and he turned his gaze upward. “I see a lion.”
Judith began to sob. How could he not know if David was holding his foot?
“Judith, hush.” David released Samuel’s foot.
“You know the colors of the butterfly.” A quiver rose in her throat. She looked at David. “He knows where the lion is in the bushes. His thoughts are together. Why doesn’t he know if he’s wearing socks? ”
David leaned close to her. “Don’t frighten him,” he whispered.
The door opened, and a doctor entered with the nurse following. “Hello, I’m Dr. Finch.” He reached out and shook David’s hand first, then Judith’s. “I hear young Samuel is awake.”
“Jah.” David glanced at Samuel.
The doctor approached the bedside. “Can I ask you a few questions?”
Samuel nodded.
The doctor chatted with Samuel for a minute, then he said, “Now, Samuel, tell me if you can feel this.” He ran the cap of his pen from Samuel’s heel to his toes.
Samuel’s tear-soaked eyes darted from Judith to David. “I can’t move my legs. I don’t feel anything.”
The doctor tapped a rubber hammer on several areas of Samuel’s legs, pausing each time to monitor Samuel’s expression. By the time he tapped the little boy’s knees, Samuel was crying hard, yet hadn’t complained once of feeling any pain.
“None of this means anything. Samuel will be all right. I know it.” Judith’s declaration caused the doctor to stop his examination and look at her. She avoided looking at David, who had growled something under his breath. Still, she had to share her hope with Samuel. “An angel told me so,” she blurted.
Samuel’s eyes widened. “He did?”
David’s stare hardened. He reached for Judith’s elbow and bobbed his head toward the door. “We’re going to step into the hallway.” He smiled at the doctor as he steered Judith away from the bed.
Samuel held his hand up and whimpered for her not to go.
David tugged on her arm. “I have to talk to Judith. You listen to what the doctor says. We will be right over there.” He nodded toward the door.
Judith looked back at Samuel as she followed David. She shouldn’t have to leave Samuel’s side. He was frightened. If only Ellen were here, she’d be able to calm David’s moodiness.
He kept the door ajar to be within earshot of the doctor and nurse and leaned into Judith to whisper. “It’s in God’s hands whether the boy walks again, so don’t go filling his head with ideas that may be outside of God’s plan.” David glanced into the room, then turned back to her with a tightened jaw. “What is this talk of an angel?”
“The day Samuel fell off the barn. The angel was with Samuel when I came around the barn. He knew Samuel’s name.” She closed her eyes. David hasn’t slept. He’s irritable because he’s tired. Calming herself, she decided not to mention the angel’s second appearance in the barn.
David pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. “Don’t tell him make-believe stories.” He pulled his hand away and opened his eyes.
Judith blinked back tears.
“Judith, I’m sorry for sounding harsh. But Samuel wouldn’t be in that bed if an angel had come.”
With his tone softened, a hint of the old David returned. The wise brother she loved and admired for his wit. The David before he became the church deacon.
Aenti Lilly walked up with two cups of coffee. “Amos is staying outside with the buggy.” She handed David a cup. “You look to need this more than me.” She motioned to the other cup in her hand. “I thought I’d take Amos something warm to drink.” Her brows knitted. “Is something wrong?”
“Samuel woke up.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Judith told him she’d seen an angel kneeling at his side.”
Aenti Lilly sighed. “Nay, Judith. This is not the time to tell the child stories.”
Judith searched their faces, hurt and frustration building. “It wasn’t a story.”
Her family had a strong belief in God. They knew God dispatched angels to help people in a time of need. Surely this was such a time. Why didn’t they believe her?
“Your family has been through too much already.” Aenti Lilly looked at David. “I fear Judith’s story would only further upset your mamm. After almost losing Samuel, she would worry about Judith’s state of mind.”
“I agree.” David turned to Judith. “You will not speak of this again. Do you understand?”
Judith looked at the floor tiles. No one wanted to listen to her. But how could she simply stop talking about the angel? Wouldn’t it be like not talking about You, God? I’d never deny You.
David stepped in closer to Judith. “Answer me.”
“Jah, I understand.” Please forgive me, God.
He turned to Aenti Lilly. “Will you take Judith home nau?”
Judith walked to the elevator, thankful for her aunt’s silence. She pushed the down button, and a moment later the doors opened. Several people filed out of the small space before Judith and Aenti Lilly could enter. It wasn’t until she was inside and had turned to face the closing doors that she noticed the mesmerizing blue eyes of the Englischer staring at her from outside the elevator. His gaze bored into her, while a blinding light shone around him. Her arms prickled with tingly bumps. She opened her mouth to acknowledge him, but her voice caught.
Her vision hazed with floating spots.
Her knees buckled.
She heard Aenti Lilly’s voice coming from a great distance, and the elevator compartment went dark.
Chapter F
our
Samuel’s legs are paralyzed.”
Andrew edged closer to the barn wall after overhearing Jonas Fischer tell of his son’s condition to the bishop. What felt like a crushing weight of bricks pressed against Andrew’s chest as he strained to listen. A dull string of heartbeats passed in silence.
“Hannah is . . . not so well.” Mr. Fischer’s voice trailed off.
“I’m sorry to hear this news. The community will see that your pumpkin crop goes to market. Andrew will milk the cows.”
His father’s list of how the community would pull together droned on. Not that it wasn’t a blessing for the Fischers to have church members to rely on for support, but Andrew had to wonder if any of it offered comfort or even mattered in relation to his son losing the use of his legs.
“Judith concerns me as well.” Jonas let out a long sigh.
Andrew held his breath. Was Judith ill? She acted normal during breakfast yesterday. Although when he returned later in the evening to milk cows, he hadn’t seen her, nor was there any smoke curling out from the stovepipe.
“She passed out in the elevator at the hospital. Then when she awoke, she was rambling about having seen an angel. She told Samuel he would walk.” Brother Fischer sighed. “I know she blames herself for his accident, but—”
Andrew leaned against the barn wall, his stomach aching as though he’d been kicked by a horse. Judith told stories, but never ones she believed. He found it difficult to think she would make up a story about seeing an angel just in an attempt to cheer Samuel’s spirit.
His father and Jonas were walking off now, and Andrew couldn’t hear any more of their conversation. He drew in a steady breath and stepped out from the barn.
“Andrew.” His father waved him over.
He looked down at the brown grass as he met them at the buggy. “When you were at the Fischers’ house, did you hear Judith talk of seeing an angel?”
“Nay.”
“I told Jonas you would keep up the chores.”
“Jah, I will.” Andrew looked up long enough to catch a glimpse of Mr. Fischer’s down-turned mouth.
“And if you hear any talk of angels . . .” His father cleared his throat.