by Nancy Mehl
“What about news and weather?” I asked. “I wonder sometimes if we’re cutting ourselves off from some important information. None of us knew about the killings in this area until the sheriff came here.”
Noah shrugged. “I have a weather radio that gives me important updates.” He grunted. “When I keep batteries in it, that is. And as far as news reports . . .” He looked out the window for a moment. “With some of the awful things happening in the world, I’d rather count on the sheriff to notify us when there’s something that might directly affect Kingdom. I don’t want all that terrible stuff in my head.”
As we passed by the school, I suddenly thought about Leah. “Noah, what about Leah? She lives behind the school. Shouldn’t we check on her?”
Noah shook his head. “She went to stay with Lizzie’s parents before the first storm moved in. They always keep a close eye on her. They treat her like their second daughter.”
That explained why I hadn’t noticed her lights on last night. “Oh, good.” I settled back into the seat of the truck. The heater warmed up the interior nicely, and I felt very comfortable. I tried to put worries about serial killers out of my head for a while. It didn’t take long before I felt my eyes beginning to close. I’d just decided to give in and grab a short nap when I felt a hard jolt and heard Noah cry out.
“Hold on, Callie!”
I looked out the window and realized that the truck was spinning on the snow. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. It was only at the last second that I realized where we were. With a sickening thud, the truck slammed into the trees on the side of the road. The red cedar trees.
Chapter / 13
At first I was too afraid to move. Then I looked over at Noah. His head was slumped forward, and I realized that the truck’s engine was racing in an ear-piercing whine that seemed to be getting louder and louder. Although I’d never driven a car or truck, I’d ridden with Lizzie in this one to pick up supplies. At least I knew enough to turn off the engine. I reached over and turned the key. The truck jerked and then became quiet.
“Noah?” I said. “Noah, can you hear me?”
There was no response. I took off my seat belt and scooted over closer to him. He was ashen. Fear gripped me as I felt for a pulse in his neck. Thankfully, I could feel a strong beat. He was just unconscious. I checked him over carefully, trying to see if he was hurt, but I couldn’t find any injuries. Lizzie had told me once that wearing seat belts was important, but that in an accident, they could cause bruising. I put my hand to my own chest, and it felt very tender. I hoped that was all that was wrong with Noah. The force of the impact had knocked the wind out of him.
I tried my door to see if it would open. It did, but the sound of metal rubbing against metal told me that it would be hard to get it closed. I stepped out carefully and scooped up a handful of snow, trying not to think about where we were. It was almost as if death had cursed this spot and tried to take Noah and me as well. Feeling foolish for thinking something so ludicrous, I climbed back into the cab. As I suspected, the door wouldn’t close completely. I leaned over and said Noah’s name a few times. Still no response. Duplicating something I’d seen my father do when a new calf was born in our barn but didn’t breathe on its own, I opened Noah’s coat, unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, and quickly put the ball of snow directly on his chest. Just like the calf’s, his reaction was immediate, and he yelped.
“What? Where?” Noah looked around, obviously disoriented. Then he started pulling at his shirt. “What in the world?”
“I’m sorry, Noah,” I said. “I had to make sure you were just unconscious.”
“Well, I’m awake now. And wet. And cold.”
“Sorry.”
“That’s okay, but remind me never to pass out around you again.”
He tried to move so he could survey the damage to his truck, but he winced with the effort.
“I’m not sure, but I think the seat belt bruised you,” I said.
“Are you okay?”
“A little sore, but fine. I can’t say the same for your truck.”
The interior of the cab was growing colder by the minute. “Did you turn off the engine?” he asked.
“Yes. It was making a loud noise. Like it was screaming.”
Noah raised an eyebrow. “That’s not good. I don’t think we’re going to be able to drive out of this.” He tried the door handle, but his side wouldn’t open. “Can you scoot into the back seat? I need to get outside and look at my truck.”
“Okay.” I turned to look at the space between the two front seats. It wasn’t very big, but I knew I could manage it. Being small does have its advantages. I carefully wiggled my way into the back seat. It wasn’t very ladylike, but I made it. I waited for Noah to move over, but he stayed right where he was.
“Are you okay?” I asked finally.
He shook his head slowly. “No. I can’t get the seat belt undone.”
I pushed my way between the seats and tried to undo the belt. It was jammed. “I . . . I can’t get it either, Noah. What should we do?”
“I don’t know. I’m in a lot of pain. I hope I didn’t break a rib.”
“Just in case, I don’t think you should move.” I squirmed my way back up into the front seat and looked out the window. “I don’t think anyone’s going to be coming this way. Not with the roads the way they are.”
His expression was tense, and when he tried to move, he grimaced. “I’ve got to get out of here.”
Trying to think of what to do, I remembered that Noah and Lizzie had another truck. It was an old one, only used when this one wasn’t available. “What about Lizzie?” I asked. “Will she come looking for us?”
He shook his head. “The snow is starting to pick up. She’ll probably think I decided to stay at the restaurant.” He turned his head to look at me. “Callie, I’m sorry. But if I can’t run the engine, we’re going to get cold. Very cold. I’m stuck here and in a lot of pain. We’re only about a mile from the house. Do you think you can walk it? If you can get to Lizzie, she can bring the other truck and pick me up.”
The wind had increased, and with it the snow. Nevertheless, I’d walked from my father’s house to town many times, and that was almost five miles. Surely one short mile wouldn’t be too much for me.
“I can do it, Noah. It’s not that far.”
“Listen,” he said, gasping, “get the flashlight out of the glove compartment. Take it with you. It will make it easier to see your way, and if you get lost, it could help someone find you.”
A sliver of fear cut through me. I’d had to battle terrible blizzards twice. Last night with Levi and once not long after Papa got sick. The chickens had to be rounded up and put into their coop. The snow was blowing so hard, I couldn’t see a foot in front of me. Both times had frightened me. Now I was about to confront another intense storm, and this time shelter would be a lot farther away.
“Thanks,” I said, trying to keep my voice level. “But I don’t like leaving you here in the dark.”
“It’s all right,” Noah said, his voice beginning to shake. I couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or from his injuries. “If I need light, I’ll turn on the truck lights. But I can’t imagine why I’d need to.”
I grabbed a blanket from the back seat of the truck. “I’m going to put this around you. It will help keep you warm. Try to stay still until I get back.”
Noah offered me a sickly smile. “You really don’t have to worry about that. I’m not planning to go anywhere. Tell Lizzie to bring something to cut this belt off.”
I tucked the blanket around him. “I will. We’ll be back for you. Everything will be all right.” I sounded a lot more confident than I felt.
“Be careful, Callie,” he said in a weak voice. “If you think you can’t make it, turn around and come back. We’ll wait here together until someone finds us.”
I nodded as if I agreed with him, but if he was badly injured, he might not la
st long enough for the truck to be discovered. Everyone in Kingdom was probably hunkered down, prepared to ride out this new storm.
With a silent prayer, I slowly opened the door and slid out into the snow. After pushing the door closed the best I could, I fought my way to the road. The snow was its highest on either side, having been blown against the trees on one side and a long fence that ran along the other side. Even though I stayed away from the drifts, the snow was deep enough to make walking difficult. I wrapped my cloak around me tightly, the hood over my head. The wind seemed to grow stronger with each step I took.
“Oh, Lord,” I prayed, as loudly as I could, trying to be heard over the wild screeching of the storm, “please help me! I don’t know if I’m strong enough to make it to Lizzie’s.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I heard a voice whisper inside me. I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me. I began repeating the precious words over and over. With each step, I could feel a new resolve. The wind and the snow increased, but so did my determination.
I felt as if I’d been walking for only a few minutes when a bright light cut through the blizzard. Lizzie and Noah’s house was silhouetted in its glow. The electric company had been stringing poles on the main road, and some of the poles had lights. I had no idea there was one near Lizzie’s house, but I thanked God for it. It kept me on track. I made it to the main road and turned right, toward the large white house where the Houslers lived. I’d just reached the driveway when I took a step and fell, rolling into the ditch. I lay there for a moment, almost buried in snow. Then I heard it again. I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me. I struggled to my feet and clawed my way back up.
When I finally found my way out of the ditch, I tried to stand up, but my feet and legs felt so numb from the cold that all I could do was crawl toward the front door. Thankfully, the light from the electric pole made finding the porch easier. I crawled up the steps to the top and was happy to find it almost clear of snow. On my hands and knees, I made my way to the front door and began pounding on it. My fingers were frozen, and try as I might, I couldn’t make a fist. Every time I slammed my hand against the solid wood door, it fell limply back to my side. Lizzie would never hear me. I tried again, but I still couldn’t raise a sound. Suddenly, someone jumped up on the porch behind me. My first thought was that the serial killer had found me, but when my attacker began licking my face, I realized it was Muffin, Lizzie and Noah’s small dog.
“Help me, boy,” I whispered. “Get Lizzie. Please. Get Lizzie.”
Muffin stopped licking me and backed up, staring at me quizzically. Then he began to bark. Long, loud yips that turned into howling. He kept it up, stopping only to take a breath, and then started yowling again. A few moments later, the front door swung open. I fell inside, right at Lizzie’s feet. Muffin ran past me, wagging his tail.
“Callie! What in heaven’s name?” I looked up into her frightened face. Her eyes were wide with alarm. “What in the world are you doing here? Are you okay?”
I tried to answer but could only whisper.
“Let’s get you up,” she said. “You’ve got to get out of those wet clothes.”
“No,” I murmured. “Need . . . to get . . . Noah.”
Lizzie grabbed me, pulled me up, her arm wrapping around my chest as she half dragged me into the living room where a fire burned brightly in the fireplace. I cried out in pain. My body was tenderer than I’d realized. She lowered me gently onto the couch. Muffin followed, planting himself right next to me.
“Where is Noah?” she asked. “Were you with him?”
It took all the strength I had left to explain what happened. When I finished, Lizzie called loudly to Charity.
“Charity! Come here. Right now.”
Almost immediately, Charity came around the corner, her special princess doll clutched tightly in her arms. She stopped in her tracks when she saw me.
“Mama, is that Callie?”
“Yes, honey. I need to take the truck down the road a bit and pick up Daddy. Will you get some of my clothes out of the closet and help Callie get dressed? She’s got to get out of these wet things before she catches a bad cold. Can you do that for me, Cherry Bear?”
At first Charity just stood there, staring at me like she’d never seen me before. Then she nodded. “Yes, Mama. I can do it. You go get Daddy.”
I took hold of Lizzie’s arm. “I’m going with you.”
Lizzie shook her head. “You’re not going anywhere. You stay here by the fire.”
“But . . . I promised Noah I’d be back.”
“Callie, you’ve done enough tonight. It’s my turn.”
I started to argue, but I could see Lizzie had made up her mind. My body felt so sore and weak, I honestly wasn’t sure I could make it anyway.
Muffin whimpered and Lizzie seemed to notice him for the first time. “Charity, dry Muffin off. He’s soaking wet. Why did you let him outside without telling me?”
Charity shook her head slowly, looking confused. “I didn’t let him out, Mama.”
Lizzie got up, hugged her little girl, and then leaned over and put her hand on my cheek. “I’ll be back soon, okay?”
“Yes,” I said. “Just go. Noah needs you. You’ll need to take something to cut off his seat belt.”
She nodded and ran from the room. A few seconds later, I heard the front door slam.
“I’m gonna go upstairs and get some dry clothes for you,” Charity said. “You need to take off that wet stuff.” She put her doll down in a nearby chair and ran into the other room. Then she came back with a large plastic bag and put it next to me. “Put all your clothes in here.” She put her hands on her hips. “And I mean all of ’em.”
With that, she ran out of the room, Muffin close on her heels. Even though I was weak, in pain, and freezing, I couldn’t help but be touched at the way she’d taken charge.
I slowly peeled off my soggy clothes and put them in the bag. When I got down to my undergarments, I hesitated. What in the world was I going to wear under Lizzie’s clothes? After some hesitation, I wrapped myself up in the quilt on the couch, and then slipped off everything left and added them to the bag. The couch underneath me was wet, so I got up and moved to a dry chair that was closer to the fire. Although I was beginning to feel warmer, I couldn’t stop shaking. I’d been sitting there for a few minutes when I heard Charity clumping down the stairs. When she came into the room, her arms were full of clothes.
“I picked out what I thought Mama would want you to wear.” She handed the garments to me. “You can go in the bathroom and change if you want to.”
“Thank you, Charity.” My teeth were chattering, so it took a while to get the three words out. I stood up, holding the quilt around me. Unfortunately, the only bathroom was upstairs. It took me quite a while to make it up the steps. I found it hard to breathe and assumed it was because of all the cold air I’d sucked into my lungs. Although it felt as if it took forever to get to the bathroom, I finally made it. I went inside and closed the door. Looking around, it was a lot like the bathroom at the restaurant, but much nicer. All the fixtures were new, and there was a large mirror over the sink. I opened the bundle of clothes and found a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. There was underwear too. The underpants were in a package, brand new and unopened. I wasn’t picky when it came to wearing someone else’s clothes. Since I didn’t have much money after Papa got sick, a lot of my dresses were donations from women in the church. But I had no desire to wear hand-me-down underwear.
I felt strange pulling on Lizzie’s jeans. I’d never worn a pair of jeans in my life. Papa had always insisted on plain dresses. After he died, I’d made a few dresses with colors and patterns because other women in town were wearing them. Some of the ladies wore pants when they worked around their farms, but this was a first for me.
I had to take off my prayer covering. It was not only wet, but it was torn and dirty. Beyond repair. Two prayer coverings gone within a few hours. At
this rate, I’d have to make some new ones. I dropped it in the trash can and worked to get the pins and ribbon out of my hair. There was a brush on the counter, next to the sink, and I brushed my hair out the best I could. When I looked in the mirror, I didn’t recognize the girl who stared back at me. Lizzie’s jeans and sweatshirt had turned me into a different person. With my hair down, I looked like someone who could fit in with most of the young women I’d seen in Washington during my trips with Lizzie.
For what seemed like a long time, all I could do was gaze at the stranger in the mirror. Could clothes really change me so much? At first I felt panic and wanted my dress and my prayer covering back. But gradually another sensation began to build in me. Something I couldn’t put my finger on, but it felt good. I turned from the mirror, pulled on the socks Charity had given me, and started back down the stairs. Charity was waiting on the couch, and Muffin was lying on the floor beneath her.
“Oh, Callie,” she said when I came in. “You’re so beautiful. Just like Mama.”
I didn’t think badly of Lizzie for the way she dressed, so why did I feel guilty? Somewhere inside, I could hear my father’s disapproving voice. My stomach turned over, and I had to steady myself as I sat down next to Charity.
“You should dress like that more often,” she said simply. “I like the way you look.”
“Thank you, Charity,” I said. “But I’m not sure this is . . . me.”
She frowned up at me. “Then who are you?”
I stared at her, trying to find an answer. I didn’t notice the tears streaming down my face.
Charity put her hand up to my cheek. “Don’t cry, Callie. I know who you are.”
Her words made me sob harder. I tried to stop, but it was as if something had broken open inside me. Charity jumped up from the couch and ran into the other room. She brought back a paper towel, and I wiped my face. Once my emotions were under control, I tried to apologize.
“Don’t be sorry, Callie,” Charity said with a smile. “Mama says that God gave us tears so we could get our sadness out. There’s nothing wrong with crying.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I cry too.”