The Survivor

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  Both his parents were in the kitchen when they arrived. Preparing for the onslaught of bad weather, they were searching through drawers for flashlights and batteries.

  His mother looked at Jenna in confusion when they’d entered. “Hello?”

  “This is Jenna,” Chris had said. Just as if he’d told them about her before. As if she mattered to him.

  While Jenna had digested that, Mrs. Henderson shot her a somewhat distracted smile. “Jenna, it’s nice to meet you. It’s good you’re here and not out and about. The weather service just announced a storm warning and a tornado watch.”

  “Yeah, we were driving around and heard about it,” Chris said. “I thought it would be safest to come right home.” Looking around, he asked, “Where’s Elizabeth?”

  “She’s over at a girlfriend’s. They had a sleepover and with the weather like it is, we decided to let her stay there.” His mother looked at Jenna kindly. “I hope you won’t want to leave until things get better. I know you can’t call home. Will your family be worried if you aren’t there?”

  “No,” she said, not eager to tell them that her parents didn’t even care where she was.

  Chris opened his mouth, looking like he wanted to blurt out her condition. But to Jenna’s relief, he’d said nothing. Just offered to help carry a blanket and flashlights down to the basement.

  They’d gotten downstairs just as the house’s electricity flickered, then suddenly shut down, covering everything in a cloak of darkness.

  Chris quickly clicked on a flashlight. As a circle of light beamed in front of them, a beautiful golden retriever came off of her dog bed and stood next to them, tail wagging. “This is Goldie,” he said, looking slightly sheepish. “Pretty original name, huh?”

  “I think she’s beautiful.” Jenna petted her with pleasure. Goldie stepped closer, obviously enjoying Jenna’s attention.

  Crouching down, Chris knelt in front of the dog and petted her, too. “Goldie’s five. She’s a great dog.” Looking up at Jenna, he said, “I really am glad you’re here.”

  Jenna was attempting to think of something to say when footsteps pounded down the wooden stairs, bringing Chris back to his feet.

  “I have a bad feeling about this storm,” his mom said as she hurried down the stairs. “I think things are going to get worse before they get better.”

  “Mom, don’t get all excited,” Chris blurted. “There’s no need to make everyone nervous.”

  “No, your mom’s right. Sirens are going off outside. People are preparing for the worst,” his dad said as he stepped out of the stairwell holding a battery-operated lantern.

  Jenna felt her stomach clench as fear for her family settled in. Though they didn’t want her anymore, she still cared for them, especially her brothers and sisters. Quickly, she closed her eyes and said a prayer for their safety.

  When she opened them again, she was calmed by the way the lantern’s light cast a warm glow around the four of them and Goldie.

  Chris patted her shoulder. “It’s okay, Jenna. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “No, we won’t,” his mother added with a smile. “Especially since we finally are getting to meet you. Chris speaks of you all the time.”

  Jenna tensed, uncertain she believed the words. She was becoming used to no one being eager to see her, and being aware that what they told her to her face was far different than what they said behind her back.

  “It’s true,” Chris said as he reached for her hand.

  Immediately, his touch reassured her, though her feelings were at war once again. She knew better than to trust anyone.

  Above them, thunder rumbled and the rain poured down so hard it sounded as if rocks were being thrown at the windows. Jenna looked above her head worriedly as, beside them, Goldie whimpered and paced.

  Though she’d never been one to be frightened of bad weather, everything about this situation felt different and scary. Maybe it was because she was in an Englischer’s home? Or, perhaps it was because of the baby she was carrying?

  Still staying near, Chris rubbed his thumb along her knuckles. “It’s okay. Just hail. We’ll be safe here in the basement.”

  “Oh. Jah. To be sure,” she muttered, feeling somewhat embarrassed by her skittishness.

  Looking around, Mr. Henderson snapped his fingers. “Let’s move over this direction,” he said. Obediently, the three of them followed, walking across the large expanse of the basement, finally coming to a stop in front of a large walk-in closet. “This is the most stable part of the house,” he explained. “Overhead are most of the support beams. We’ll be safe here, even if a tornado comes.”

  Jenna shuddered at the thought.

  Chris’s mom must have noticed, because she rushed over to one of the padded chairs folded against a wall. “Jenna, dear, why don’t you sit down?”

  She felt silly, being the only one to sit while the others were standing in the rest of the space. “Nee. I’ll be fine standing with the rest of you.”

  To her dismay, his mother apologized. “I know it’s not much, it’s just a fold-up chair from a game table, but it should be more comfortable for you.”

  “Danke, the chair is fine,” she protested as she finally did sit down. “I didn’t mean for you to think I wasn’t grateful . . . I just don’t want to take up too much space.”

  “You don’t,” his father said.

  Feeling terribly self-conscious, she bit her lip and folded her hands on her lap. Maybe the storm wasn’t going to be near as bad as they were predicting. Maybe it would blow over soon and she could go back home.

  Well, to Mary’s home. Once again, she thought of her parents and her brothers and sisters. Oh, she hoped they were somewhere safe, too.

  Chris kneeled at her feet. With deliberate care, he reached for her hands and enfolded them into his own far larger, far warmer ones. “Jenna, I know you’re scared, but please let us take care of you,” he said softly. “After all, it’s my baby, too.”

  Her heart practically stopped beating as his words pierced the air. Immediately, she darted a look at his parents, practically ready for them to start yelling at her or Chris.

  Past experiences told her to pull her hands away and to try to escape. But Chris’s hands held firm. And the look in his eyes told so much more. He was showing her that no matter what, he wasn’t leaving her side.

  A moment passed as Jenna felt his parents exchange glances.

  But instead of shouting or acting shocked, his father merely raised a brow as he looked down at the pair of them. “So you finally decided to tell us, Chris?”

  “You knew?”

  After a moment, Mrs. Henderson spoke. “I heard some rumors the other day, about a very pretty Amish girl named Jenna and how her baby’s father was a mystery.” She paused. “Since you had told us all about Jenna, then said nothing, I wondered if maybe this Jenna was the one people were talking about.”

  Jenna wrapped her arms around her stomach as Chris turned bashful. “I meant to tell you before now. I was just looking for the right time.”

  “It’s my fault,” Jenna said. “I didn’t tell Chris until recently. I was too embarrassed.”

  “You had enough to deal with, Jenna. Don’t apologize,” Chris said. He squeezed her hand softly before getting to his feet.

  Jenna attempted to rise, too. But Chris stopped that with a brief look. “It’s okay,” he whispered, his lips close to her ear. “Please don’t worry so much. I promise, we’ll have plenty of time to work things out.”

  She sat back down. As she did, she became aware of the interest his parents had taken in watching their exchange.

  “You two really do care about each other, don’t you?” his mother said.

  “Of course I care about her,” Chris replied.

  “Have you both decided what you’re going to do?�
�

  Jenna tucked her chin. This whole situation was throwing her for a loop.

  Never had she imagined she’d even have a relationship with Chris, let alone be sitting with him and his parents, discussing things!

  Until Chris had forced answers from her and refused to let her gloss over their relationship as a simple mistake, she’d truly thought they’d never have anything to do with each other again.

  But now, here he was, supporting her in front of his parents, protecting her from the storm, and being so loving and tender. So much so, she still wasn’t quite sure how to respond to his gestures . . .

  When she felt Chris’s gaze on her, silently asking for her to participate in the exchange, Jenna shrugged. “I don’t know what we’re going to do. To be honest, until I told Chris, I had been sure he would be upset with me.”

  “Upset?” His mom darted a look Chris’s way. “I hope not—”

  Above them, the wind picked up. Sounds of fallen branches rang through the air. Jenna flinched as several scraped at the windows above them.

  Reality set in again, reminding them all that while things might be turbulent in their lives, they were also mighty turbulent in nature, too.

  “Let’s table this discussion for another day,” his dad said sharply. “Nothing discussed now is going to mean much if things get worse.”

  Jenna shivered at the not-so-subtle reminder that if the tornadoes really did come, the house and their lives would be in danger and might never look the same again.

  Chris noticed, and immediately wrapped his arms around her. “Way to frighten Jenna, Dad,” Chris said.

  “I’m merely telling the truth. Sometimes that’s all we can do, right?”

  “You’re right,” Mrs. Henderson replied. “And you’re also right about the timing. We need to stand together and hold each other tight. Not worry about what-ifs at the moment.”

  Jenna relaxed. Chris’s warm embrace helped her calm her nerves. As did his parents’ no-nonsense acceptance of not only the baby, but their relationship. Truly, it was like night and day from her parents’ reaction.

  She shivered again as she silently relived her parents’ anger and extreme disappointment. Oh, but she’d felt so desperate when she’d shown up at Graham’s house. She’d really thought she had no one, and nowhere to go.

  She started when she felt Mrs. Henderson’s hand on her shoulder. “Please don’t worry, Jenna. We’ll all get through this. I promise. The timing could have been a bit better, but the news about the baby is good.”

  Jenna couldn’t hold back her shock any longer. “You really think that, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do. Listen, I’ve been a pastor’s wife for a very long time. Every time I think I’ve seen or heard it all, God shows me differently. I promise, I’ve learned that there isn’t much that can’t be dealt with, as long as people communicate and pray,” she added, just as another burst of wind shook the house. A look of alarm flashed in her eyes as she gripped one of the thick columns that supported the main structure of the house. “Craig, I’m starting to get worried. It feels like the whole house is shaking.”

  “Let’s all sit down. Chris, you take care of Jenna, and I’ll take care of your mother,” Mr. Henderson said.

  Seeming more than glad to follow his father’s orders, Chris pulled up a chair and nestled beside her, pulling her even closer. Just as he did, the pressure in the air shifted. Soon, it felt as if all the oxygen was being sucked out of the room.

  Jenna clutched Chris’s hand and closed her eyes tightly, praying with all her might.

  And then an upstairs window broke.

  Chapter Thirty

  A roar, as loud as a train, reverberated through the valley. And just like a locomotive was near, the ground shook with the storm’s vibrations. In the storm cellar, some of the paneling that lined the walls creaked and groaned, making their haven feel even more precarious. Above their heads, the lamp swung wildly back and forth, casting flashes of light into the shadows.

  John eyed it worriedly. He momentarily considered standing up and lifting it off the hook, but ultimately decided against it. Though he was trying hard to act unflustered, the deafening roar above them was scaring him something awful.

  Beside him, Mary flinched as they heard a crash.

  “Do you think that was the house?” Abel asked. “Do you think that was our house coming apart?”

  Though John ached to tell the boy what he wanted to hear, he was even less willing to give him false hope. Only God knew what was happening above them.

  “I don’t know. Perhaps it was just some shingles.” As more debris thumped above them, and the ground continued to shake, John added more loudly, “Abel, Mary, I’m afraid this sounds bad. You might want to prepare yourselves for the worst.”

  The noise got louder. Tears filled Abel’s eyes as he curled into a ball, hugging his pillow to his chest. Holding Mary’s hand, with his other, John reached for Abel’s. To his relief, Abel unclenched his fist enough to take John’s hand.

  Then they sat in silence as the world seemed to destruct above them.

  Minutes later—or perhaps it had only been seconds—the dizzying shriek quieted, replaced by the sound of pounding rain.

  Slowly Mary pulled away. “Do you think it’s over?”

  “I hope so.”

  Tense, the three of them raised their heads. John got to his feet and stood closer to the storm door. Sounds of branches ripping from trees, then crashing to the ground, reverberated around them. John felt the hair on the back of his neck rise.

  “Come back, John,” Mary pleaded.

  “I’m okay. I won’t open the door. I’m trying to listen to see if anything’s changed.”

  But of course, it was a futile proposition. The rain continued to pound and the winds still shrieked. As debris scratched against the shelter’s door, John looked at it with worry. More than anything, he hoped no trees or boards from the house or barn would fall directly on the door. If they were trapped, they’d have to rely on being found, and that scared him half to death.

  Now pings of hail clanked above them. Mary winced in response. “John, please come back.”

  As he glanced in her direction, guilt besieged him. He should have put Mary’s needs first and held tight to her hand instead of giving into curiosity.

  “Of course. I’m sorry,” he said. But now simply holding her hand didn’t seem enough. Unable to stop himself, John wrapped an arm around her back, holding her close. He looked at Abel. The boy was holding his pillow tight against his chest again and was staring into space.

  In the flickering light, Mary looked at her son worriedly. After a moment, she said, “Abel, John, right at this moment, our future seems to be in the Lord’s hands. Because of that, there’s only one thing to do. We must pray.”

  “Do you think it will even help?” Abel asked.

  “It can only help, jah?” Mary countered. “We must pray for our safety and the safety of others.”

  Immediately, Abel’s head tucked. John bowed his head, too. Mary’s words rang true. At the moment, he’d never felt more helpless in his life. All he was able to do was hold on to these two people and ask the Lord to watch over them.

  “God, please be with us,” he said out loud. “Please watch over us and the animals and our family.”

  “And watch over our friends,” Abel added.

  “I know you are always with us,” Mary finished. “Please protect us now.”

  Above them, it sounded like the rain was lessening. Perhaps the worst was over.

  While Mary and Abel sat in silence, John spoke to God silently. “I know there’s not much to me, Lord. But I finally feel like I’ve found the right place for myself. Please don’t let me lose it now.”

  Just then, the air stilled. John gasped, half expecting another rush of wind to blast thr
ough the valley. Half expecting the frightful roar of another tornado to come barreling forward.

  But instead of loud noise, there was only sudden silence.

  Mary loosened her hand from John’s grasp and straightened her back with a faint groan. Tilting her head to one side, she listened. Finally, she looked at Abel and smiled. “It sounds like the high winds are gone. The storm has passed.”

  Abel lifted his head. “Maybe we’ll be okay after all.”

  Abel’s voice was so full of wonder, Mary exchanged a smile with John. “Yes, son. I think so.”

  John stood up. “Your mother’s right. We made it.”

  Mary beamed. “Our prayers were answered.”

  Abel got to his feet, too. Staring at the storm cellar’s thick oak door, he said, “I wonder what it looks like outside.”

  John motioned the boy forward. “Let’s go check, Abel.”

  Mary scrambled to her feet. “Nee. Not yet. Maybe we should wait a bit?”

  He knew Mary was nervous and feared for Abel’s safety. John didn’t blame her. But he also knew that staying underground like an ostrich wouldn’t help things, either. He wanted to see how the animals were doing, and check for the possibility of fire as well.

  But because he didn’t want to scare her, he kept his thoughts to himself. “We’ll only take a peek,” he said, carefully. “If things look bad, we’ll stay here a bit longer. If not, it will be nice to stretch our legs, don’t you think, Abel?”

  Abel nodded.

  Slowly, John unhooked the latch and then pushed up on the wood.

  It didn’t budge.

  Fear coursed through him. If they were trapped, it could be hours or even days before they were rescued. His pulse racing, he motioned for Abel to stand beside him. “I’m going to need your help to push. Okay?”

  “I’m strong.” He made a muscle. “I can help.”

  “All right then.” John shifted a bit more so that the boy was more fully situated under the lowest part of the door. “On my count of three, we’re going to push. Got it?”