Out of the Ruins

by Karen Barnett

  Her hopes dwindled. The last time she had seen her little brother he’d been playing outside. Did he wander away, looking for us? The idea of Davy wandering the city sent chills across her skin.

  She hurried down the back stairs and into the yard, making a careful search of every shrub. His toy wagon stood ready by the garden gate, half-filled with stones and topped by a toy train. The yard seemed eerily empty, without even birds singing in the big maple tree.

  Maybe he’s hiding. She ran back into the house and searched it again. She dug through rumpled bedcovers, rummaged through closets and crawled under tables. The clock that had stood on a shelf above her bed lay smashed on the floor, its hands frozen at 5:12.

  Abby paused in the upstairs hallways, spirits sinking through the floorboards. She leaned against the wall, a lump rising in her throat. We can’t search the entire city. Abby kicked the wall, the wood giving slightly under the pressure. The sudden action brought a moment of relief. “What are You doing, God?” Her voice split the silence of the empty house. “I have to find him. Why won’t You help me?” She kicked the wall a second time.

  Clenching her fists, Abby dug them into her skirt. “God! Where are You?” Her voice echoed down the hallway. “I can’t live like this! I can’t live with this!” She pressed her fingers against her eyes, fighting back tears. Before Cecelia had become sick, she’d hardly ever cried. Now it felt like an everyday occurrence. Fresh tears spilled down her burning cheeks. “I let You back into my life and this is what happens?”

  Abby ripped the journal from her pocket and threw the book onto the rug. It bounced, fluttering across the floor. “You are supposed to be good. How could You let this happen?”

  Sinking to her knees on the hallway floor, Abby placed her hands on the Persian runner, tracing the geometric pattern before collapsing down upon it. She wept, her tears soaking the rug. “I can’t do this.”

  Aunt Mae’s words echoed in her mind. “God is our refuge and strength, an ever present help in trouble.”

  Abby held her breath, chest aching. A thought took hold, like a seed opening in her heart, its tiny roots sinking into her soul. It’s not about my strength. It’s about His.

  Long minutes passed. A tremor shook the house gently, rattling the windows and sending the hall curtains swinging. A flood of emotions poured from the rift in her heart—sadness over Cecelia, anger at Robert, bitterness toward God, fear for herself. Abby pressed her hands against her chest. “I can’t do it. But You can.” Abby breathed slowly, holding each breath captive before releasing it. “But, will You?” The damp rug scratched at her cheek. “You can have this mess—my life. I don’t want it anymore.” She rolled to her stomach and flattened her palms to the floor. With closed eyes, she dug her fingers into the coarse rug. “Take it. Take my heart. Take my life. Take it all.”

  Her body shuddered, its own little quake.

  Abby opened her eyes. Sunlight poured in the window, illuminating the particles of dust floating in the air. Weary and broken, Abby gazed up at them.

  Up.

  Abby lifted her tear-stained face, noticing the small door to the attic. The dark room had been her place of grieving—of refuge—for so many weeks, the place where she had wrapped herself in the memories of Cecelia.

  The door was ajar.

  Abby inhaled sharply. Pushing up from the floor, she hurried to the staircase. Ducking her head, she stepped into the dark, open area, the thick air warm and stuffy. The tiny dormer windows allowed only a few shafts of light to penetrate the gloom, the open area cluttered with vague shapes.

  A soft sound cut through the stillness. Faint snores? Dropping to her hands and knees, Abby crawled across the rough floor, shoving boxes out of her way. “Davy?”

  Scooting toward the window, Abby found the corner of Cecelia’s quilt and followed it with searching fingers until she landed on her brother’s warm, sleeping body. Warm tears sprang to her eyes. “Davy, you’re here!” A bubble of laughter mixed with a painful sob.

  She lifted him into the light, pulling him against her chest, sobbing and hiccupping as she knelt on the floor. “Thank you, God, thank you!” Her heart trembled, as if it were a building laced with dynamite. Any moment it would explode into a million pieces like a beautiful firework, arcing across the sky.

  Davy’s warm body stretched. “Abby? Is it you, Abby?” His hand reached up and touched Abby’s face. “You’re wet.”

  Abby laughed and sobbed. “Yes, I am.” She rubbed her damp face on his shirt. “And I’m going to get you all wet, too.” She buried her nose in his warm stomach.

  Davy whimpered. “Abby you were gone, Mama was gone. I thought you weren’t coming back.”

  Abby wiped her dripping nose on the quilt. “I’m here now.” She gripped him under the arms and lifted him to her chest. “And I’ll never let you go again.”

  A nearby blast of dynamite rattled the window sending Abby’s thoughts scuttling back to Mama and Robert.

  “I don’t like those sounds.” Davy tucked his head under her chin.

  Abby stood, lifting him. “I think it’s time to leave. Let’s go find Mama.” She bent down and retrieved Cecelia’s quilt, wrapping it around her brother. She clambered down the narrow stairs and out into the hallway, settling Davy on her hip.

  In a short time, this house will be gone. She pulled Davy tight against her side as he laid his head on her shoulder. But, God has given me all I need.

  47

  12:15 p.m.

  Abby hauled Davy through the front door, the latch clicking shut behind them. Her brother squirmed until she loosened her grip, allowing him to slide down her legs. She grabbed his hand, relishing the touch of his skin against hers. They clattered down the porch steps together.

  “I want to bring my rocks.” Davy yanked at her fingers.

  Abby glanced up at the rolling smoke. “Davy, we have a long walk. You don’t want to carry them.”

  “Yes, I do.” He pulled her to the pile near the gate and reached down for a handful, shoving the pebbles into the pockets of his short trousers.

  A chunk of broken brick on the side of the heap reminded Abby of Kum Yong’s Ebenezer stone. Abby knelt down and picked through Davy’s collection until she found a smooth, flat rock. Picking it up, she noticed a thumb-sized indentation in its center. God’s thumbprint. His mark—His seal—on my heart. Cecelia’s hymn tickled the back of her mind. Here I raise my Ebenezer, hither by Thy help I’ve come. “Can I have this one, Davy?”

  He frowned and grabbed for her hand.

  Abby wrapped her fingers about it and lifted it out of his reach. “Hey, who just saved your life, little man?”

  His bottom lip protruded. “But they’re mine.”

  Abby stood, the stone warm in her palm. “I’ll make a deal with you. Let me keep this one and you can fill my pockets with rocks, too.”

  Davy’s face lit up and he scooped two giant fistfuls of pebbles, holding them up to Abby.

  “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” After a few minutes, Abby’s skirt pockets sagged. She clasped Davy’s hand and walked him to the gate. Abby gripped the small stone in her other palm, resting her thumb in the hollow. My Ebenezer. Thank You, Lord, for helping me this far.

  Mama and Robert hurried toward them, Mama’s skirt flapping as she ran, arms outstretched. Abby sucked in a quick breath, a smile rushing to her face as her heart rose. She released Davy’s hand, giving him a gentle nudge.

  The boy catapulted forward, jumping into his mother’s embrace.

  Mama swept him up, pressing Davy to her chest. “I thought—I thought—”

  Robert came up behind, a massive smile extending across his dirty, sweat-streaked face.

  Abby rushed to him, grabbing his arm. “I heard the shot—I was so afraid something horrible had happened.”

  He lifted his hand, clutching the blood-stained handkerchiefs. “Only a scratch. Nothing to worry about. I’m relieved to see you and Davy are all right.”


  Mama handed Davy to Robert and wrapped her arms around Abby. “Thank you, Abby. Thank you.”

  Abby, still holding Robert’s hand, pulled him into their embrace—all four together.

  As they walked toward safe ground, Mama wove her arm around Abby’s back. “Abigail, your Papa will be so proud.” She smiled, squeezing Abby’s waist. “I think our little wanderer has come home at last.”

  Abby flushed. “God had a few things to show me, first.”

  “I can’t wait to hear about it.”

  “I’m really hungry!” Davy tugged at her skirt.

  Robert pulled a chunk of bread from his pocket. As Davy grabbed it, Robert hoisted the boy up onto his high shoulders. “Whoa, Davy—you’re so heavy. What have you got in those pockets of yours? Rocks?”

  Davy drummed on the top of Robert’s hat. “How’d you know?”

  Saturday, April 21, 1906

  9:15 a.m.

  Robert stepped behind Abby as she gripped the ferry rail, circling his arms about her waist and resting his fingers on top of hers. His wounded hand was wrapped in a strip of linen Abby had given to him—torn from some part of her clothing. Robert tried in vain not to think about it. He pressed one foot behind him, leaning down so he could rest his chin on her shoulder. His heart beat slow and steady, weariness descending now she was safely nestled between his arms. The ferry’s engines powered them through the bay, the water in their wake churned into frothy white waves. San Francisco retreated into the distance, a haze of orange smoke clinging to the broken skyline like a smothering blanket.

  The salty breeze washed away the scent of smoke and he took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the first fresh air he’d tasted in days.

  “I can’t believe we’re leaving.” Abby leaned back against him.

  “Only for a while. And think how excited Mrs. Larkspur will be to have all of you under one roof.”

  “And Papa will be meeting us at the dock.” She leaned back against his arm. “I can’t believe he got a message through to Gerald in all this chaos.”

  “I wish Gerald had come with us.” Robert gripped the rail. “Now I’m going to have to deal with his mother’s questions.”

  Abby twisted until she faced him, her back pressed against the railing. “You’ll stay in Oakland, won’t you?”

  Robert inched his arms closer to her waist. “I’ll head back to the city tomorrow. The hospital is in ruins and our office is gone, but they’re going to need medical help in those tent camps.”

  The hint of a frown pulled at her lips. “Always the physician. Always the hero.”

  He lifted his chin. “Yes, ma’am. A doctor’s work is never done.” Robert chuckled, the truth of his words warming his chest. God had given him plenty of work. He thought back to the X-ray laboratory, buried under the remains of the hospital. The machinery could be replaced. You are the hero, God. Thank you for watching over the ones I love.

  The ferry rolled over a swell, and Robert splayed his feet to keep his balance. “Good thing, too. I would make a horrible sailor. No sea legs at all.”

  She reached for his arm, pulling it back to her side. “Here, let me help you.” She lifted an eyebrow, a pink flush spreading across the spaces between her freckles.

  He stepped closer, encircling her with his arms and resting his hands back on the rail. “Your mother might have something to say about it.”

  “She took Davy to the front of the ship. He wanted to see where the captain stands.”

  Robert’s pulse stepped up as he moved nearer. He lowered his face until it brushed against her hair, tiny wisps of brown floating on the breeze and tickling at his nose. He could still remember the touch of her lips, the feeling of her breath against his cheek. A sudden urge to repeat the experience gripped him. Robert let the swell of the ship push him closer. The lilac fragrance still clung to her hair, not fully obscured by the reek of smoke. He breathed it in, the tender scent assuring him of her nearness. Whatever happened, he would not let her get away again.

  He lifted a hand to her chin, gently guiding her face upward until he could see the rays of the sun lighting up the gold flecks buried in her brown eyes. Holding his breath, he lowered his face until their lips met.

  As the kiss ended, Abby pulled back with a sigh, her arms tightening around Robert’s waist. She laid her head on his shoulder, thankful for the strong wind—an excuse to cuddle close. Her hat was long gone—probably left in the park.

  Abby reached into her pocket, nearly empty since Davy had gleefully tossed most of the pebbles into the waves. She closed her fingers around the Ebenezer stone. Hitherto hath the Lord helped us. Cecelia would be pleased to know she had stopped running from God’s love. She closed her eyes, picturing her sister’s smile. Cecelia was alive, Abby was certain. God had borne her sister over the waters to heaven, just as the ferry now carried them across the bay. Cecelia’s voice echoed in Abby’s mind, strains of her song lifting on the breeze. “Come Thou fount of every blessing, tune my heart to sing Thy grace. Streams of mercy never ceasing, call for songs of loudest praise.”

  She ran her thumb over the stone’s smooth surface. Kum Yong had said Miss Cameron planned to take the Mission girls across the bay. Had Kum stood on this same deck, watching the city—the place where she had once been enslaved—go up in flames? Abby closed her eyes. Please, Lord, let me see her again. I want to tell her what her stories meant to me. How they nudged me to You.

  Robert rested his chin on the top of her head. “I am so thankful I found you again.” His warm breath stirred her hair.

  “Hey, I found you—remember?” Abby slid one hand behind his back, the other still tucked in her pocket. “Now I don’t want to let go.”

  His arms tightened on her waist. “Don’t. Not ever.”

  She glanced up, a shiver running across her skin.

  Robert’s brows pinched together, his hat pulled low over his forehead. “Don’t let go. Stay. Forever.”

  Her heart jumped in her chest. “What do you mean?”

  “Be my wife, Abby. Marry me.” The intensity in Robert’s eyes made her knees wobble.

  She gazed into his face, the stone warming between her fingers. She released it into her pocket and placed her hand on his shirtfront. “Are you certain?”

  He laughed. “Abby, I love you. I’ve been able to think about little else since the moment you almost fell out of that tree.”

  Her heart rose, like bubbles floating to the surface of the water. She’d been in the orchard then begging for Cecelia’s life. And not to be alone. Somehow God had taken care of both, though not in a way she’d envisioned.

  Her plans for a future of tending her trees—those dreams had crumbled like the city. But she had learned to trust, to love. Abby’s heart swelled. “I—I love you, too, Robert.”

  “Then say you’ll marry me.” Robert squeezed her waist with his hands, grinning. “And I can go back to the city tomorrow trusting you won’t have wandered off again before my return.”

  Her face warmed. “Wandered off? Who is wandering off here?”

  Robert leaned in, resting his forehead against hers so she could barely make out the glint in his dark eyes. He cupped her jaw in his warm hands, the linen bandage soft against her cheek. He kissed her temple, his lips brushing her skin. “Will you marry me?”

  A rush of energy raced through her, starting somewhere deep inside until it surged out to her fingertips. She grasped the lapel of his jacket and pressed her lips against his cheek. “Yes. Of course, I will.”

  He pulled her up to her toes, capturing her lips for another kiss. Releasing her, Robert pulled his hat from his head, his grin so wide it nearly connected his ears. He glanced back across the water. “With the city in rubble and flames, I feel a little guilty being so happy.”

  Abby stared out across the bay. The smoke curling up to the heavens from the ruins of San Francisco was testimony to the tragedy. A verse from Isaiah drifted through her mind like the smoke drifting on the breeze.
To give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness. Abby closed her eyes and buried her face in Robert’ shoulder. “Perhaps pulling joy from the ruins is exactly what God is all about.”

  Discussion Questions

  1. Which character was your favorite? How do you relate to his or her struggles?

  2. In the first chapter, Abby finds refuge in the limbs of a tree. Where do you hide when life gets overwhelming?

  3. When Abby encounters Robert in the orchard, she almost falls out of the tree. If you’re in a relationship, how did you first meet? Did you feel an instant connection?

  4. Abby attempts to strike a deal with God. Have you ever been tempted to do the same? Did it work?

  5. Abby finds herself shaken many times in this story. Her life is rocked by her sister’s illness, Cecelia’s death, the loss of her home, and finally by the earthquake itself. What sort of earthquake moments have you experienced? How did you cope?

  6. Think about the spiritual life of each of the characters. Who are you most like?

  a. Cecelia—faithful, trusting

  b. Abby—doubting, leery of God’s love

  c. Robert—trusting only in science and his own ability

  d. Gerald—respecting God’s divine plan

  7. Cecelia and Abby are both drawn to the hymn “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing.” Do you have a favorite song or hymn? What is it about the song that speaks to your soul?

  8. Great Aunt Mae serves as a voice of wisdom in Abby’s life, both in person and through her childhood journal. Who has influenced you in your faith walk?

  9. What truths does Abby learn about God during the course of the story?

  10. God reached out to Abby in many ways throughout the novel, and finally in a very vivid manner near the end. Can you think of a time in your life when God has revealed himself to you?

  11. Robert shelved his faith during medical school, choosing to rely on science instead. Gerald chose to view the human body as evidence of God’s artistry. Have you ever felt pressured to set your faith aside? How do you view the conflict between faith and science?