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Arms of Mercy

Page 16

by Ruth Reid


  “I’m sorry, I haven’t. Are you sure she’s here?”

  Elijah sighed. “I’m nett sure of anything.”

  Paul removed a pad of paper from his pocket. “I’ll jot her name down and check with the other members on the clergy staff. I don’t cover all of the floors, so maybe one of them has spoken with her.”

  “That would be great, thanks.” Candice had already said Catherine’s name wasn’t on their hospital census, but it wouldn’t hurt for Paul to double-check the list. Maybe at the time the nurse looked, the list was incomplete. Maybe Catherine had been admitted since then, or maybe her status was updated from Jane Doe . . . maybe.

  “Where are you from?”

  “Michigan. Both Catherine and I are from Posen. Well, I haven’t always lived in the same district.” Elijah spoke nervously fast, telling Paul things about his past. How he’d grown up in Badger Creek, moved to Posen as a teenager when his father wasn’t able to make a go of it in the lumber business, and then fallen in love with Catherine.

  Elijah found Paul with his nonjudgmental nature easy to talk to. In the end Elijah had shared more than he wished. He even told the clergyman how he’d felt pressured by his parents and Edwina’s parents to get married, and how he’d broken Catherine’s heart in the process.

  “I was following her to Florida in an attempt to win back her heart.” Tears clouded his vision. “We weren’t supposed to be on that bus. Our driver had to make an emergency stop. He had a heart attack, or at least that was the rumor.”

  Paul handed him a small box of tissues from the nightstand.

  “Thank you.” He tugged one from the box and blew his nose. “What if I missed God’s warning? Neither of us had tickets, and the driver of this last bus had tried hard to keep us from getting on.”

  Paul’s brows drew together, forming an A shape over the bridge of his nose, but he said nothing.

  “Catherine’s bag, which held her ticket, was stolen, and I ended up giving mine to another driver, thinking Catherine was on that bus. It’s a complicated story.” He plucked another tissue from the box and wiped his eyes. What a nightmare.

  “Why do you think you missed God’s warning?”

  Elijah shrugged. “The only reason the driver ended up letting us board was because another sympathetic passenger took up our cause. She argued with the driver about leaving us stranded, and it wasn’t a nice part of town either. But I had allowed her to video us—something I’m totally against . . .”

  “But she was helping you?”

  Elijah nodded. “To get on a bus we should never have been on. I went against mei beliefs, and here I am—stuck in a hospital bed, and worse, I don’t even know if Catherine is alive or dead. We should have stayed at the diner.” Elijah’s frustration came out in his tone. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Ever wish you could relive a day?”

  “Sure, but then I remind myself that God knows the beginning and the end.”

  Elijah nodded in agreement. God knew Catherine’s whereabouts too.

  “Have you contacted your family or your friend’s family yet?”

  “Nay.” He glanced at the phone sitting on the bedside stand. “The nurse explained how to place a call, but it’s long distance. I would have to reverse the charges.”

  Their Englisch friend Beverly Dembrowski would accept the call, and he would be sure to reimburse her the money once he returned home, but something else was stopping him. What would he say about Catherine being missing?

  Paul removed a cell phone from his pants pocket and handed it to him. “I have free long distance.”

  Elijah swallowed hard. “I was supposed to look after her on this trip.”

  “Don’t let guilt eat away at you. The accident wasn’t your fault.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Trust God to give you the words. Don’t you think it’s better that your families know?”

  “Jah, I know you’re right.” He still didn’t dial the number.

  “God is merciful. His arms are open to the brokenhearted.”

  Lord, give me the right words. Elijah tapped the numbers on the keypad and waited for Beverly to answer.

  Midafternoon the following day, Alex called Elijah’s hospital room. “Were you a stowaway?”

  “What?”

  “Don’t try pulling the wool over my eyes. Tell me the truth. Did you belong on that bus?”

  Taken aback at the man’s clipped tone, Elijah considered hanging up the phone. But Alex had said he could locate anyone. “Jah, sorta. We weren’t stowaways.”

  “What do you mean sorta? Budget Bus has no record of you or a Catherine Glick being on that bus, so did you have a ticket or not?”

  “We purchased one-way tickets from Rogers City, Michigan, to Sarasota, Florida. With everything that’s happened, I’m still a little confused about the date.” Elijah started at the beginning, but hearing heavy breathing on the other end of the phone line, he skipped ahead.

  “After our driver had to be taken to the hospital, we were placed on another bus. But while we were waiting, Catherine’s bag was stolen with her ticket in it. We were eventually allowed on without boarding passes based on other passengers vouching for us. So that’s why our tickets were nett scanned into the system. We didn’t have them to give. You can ask the driver. He should remember us. The other passengers made quite a ruckus, chanting to let us on.”

  “The driver’s dead.”

  A gasp escaped Elijah’s mouth. He closed his eyes, but images of bodies sprawled out on the pavement etched in his mind. His stomach roiled as he recalled the different-colored tags and those who had been covered with sheets.

  “You still there?” Alex asked after a few moments of silence.

  “Jah, I’m here.”

  “We’ll get the mess sorted out. Budget Bus is just being hard—” He growled under his breath. “Difficult donkeys is what they’re being at the moment.”

  At the moment Elijah wasn’t concerned about Budget Bus’s stubbornness. He had more important questions on his mind. “What about Catherine?”

  “She’s not a patient where you’re at. I’ve been told there were seventy-eight passengers total between the two buses. At least three different hospitals received patients. I still don’t have a count of how many went where, and from what I understand, the authorities have dogs searching the ravine, which tells me they still have passengers unaccounted for. But nobody’s talking, so I have no idea how many people are still missing. I’m on my way to Community General to see what I can dig up. Has the doctor said how long it’ll be before you’re released?”

  “Nett yet. Why?”

  “If I hit a brick wall—and I’ve been known to scale some pretty tall barriers, so I’m not afraid of heights—we might have to go about it from a different angle and eliminate the unclaimed Jane Does first.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Frankly, I wish there was an easier way of saying this other than to just spit it out. Hopefully it won’t come down to having to search the morgues, because to be blunt, if her body needs to be identified, I can’t do it.”

  Elijah’s eyes burned with tears. “You said something about dogs searching the ravine. Do you think those people will be found alive?”

  “They could be, sure. As of this morning, reporters are still calling it search and rescue. I have no idea when the authorities will change the status to search and recovery. Have you been watching the news?”

  “Nay.”

  “Channel 10 has been doing regular updates. If you hear anything new, let me know. I’ll do the same.” He ended the call with “Goodbye.”

  Silence taunted Elijah. After only a few minutes, he picked up the remote. Despite his deep convictions to remain separated from the world, his desire to be informed of any updates warred with his willpower and won. He pressed the On button and flipped to channel 10. A red banner trolled the bottom of the television screen: Action 10 Breaking News.

&nbs
p; Elijah recognized the hillside road even though the buses had been removed.

  A news reporter holding a microphone stood next to the mangled guardrail, turning slightly inward when a gust of wind blew his thick mop of dark hair. “A few short steps behind me, at the bottom of this forty-foot ravine, lies the dismembered section of Budget Bus’s fifty-two-passenger streamline, which was involved in Friday morning’s accident with Custom Ride, a private charter bus service carrying forty-eight passengers from an off-Broadway theater group.

  “It is not yet known which of the two buses is to blame for the fatal accident that has taken the lives of fourteen people so far and sent numerous victims with varying critical injuries to surrounding hospitals.” The reporter went on to tell about the theater group’s recent Fiddler on the Roof production and its sold-out tour, then focused his attention on the number of search-and-rescue dogs combing the area as the camera angle shifted to the deep ravine.

  Elijah leaned forward, studying the television screen with keen eyes. Patches of snow, snapped trees, the broken-down bus, but no sign of survivors. The camera shifted back to the reporter. Elijah dropped back against the mattress.

  The reporter placed his hand against one ear. “I’m being told now that Sheriff Bailer will be making a statement to the press shortly. No word yet on what information he plans to share. Search-and-rescue teams have been canvassing the site well over one hundred hours.”

  The camera view cut to three officers, and the larger man in the center stepped up to the microphones.

  “On Friday morning, two buses traveling in opposite directions collided on River Ridge Road, resulting in at least fourteen deaths and leaving several critically injured. Upon notification to the Muskingum County Sheriff’s Department by Budget Bus and Custom Ride that six passengers were still unaccounted for, search-and-rescue teams were dispatched. As of this time none of the missing passengers have been recovered. My thoughts and prayers are with each of the victims and their families. Thank you.”

  Reporters shouted questions barely picked up on the news channel’s microphone. Elijah turned up the volume on the television.

  “Can you tell us which bus company is to blame for causing the accident?”

  “When will a list of passenger names be provided to the public?”

  “It’s been four days. At what point will the search-and-rescue efforts be changed to a recovery mission?”

  The sheriff lifted his hand and the questions stopped. “The accident remains an ongoing investigation, and therefore I am not at liberty to discuss any details. Both bus companies are cooperating fully and are working to compile a list of passengers. However, that list will not be made public until family members of the deceased are contacted. As for the question regarding a rescue versus recovery status, we are still viewing this as a rescue mission at this time. As you probably know, when and if the temperature drops below zero, chances of survival diminish.”

  He lifted his hand when the reporters shouted out blizzard forecast predictions for the southeastern area. “Until the weather changes, we will continue to search for the missing passengers. That’s all the time I have.”

  The reporter recapped the sheriff’s message for those just joining them, then ended his on-site coverage with “For Action 10 news, I’m Calvin Dover.”

  Elijah lowered the volume. His eyes burned with tears as he wondered if Catherine was among the missing.

  A soft knock sounded on the door. Candice entered the room, her face drawn with concern. In the short time since he’d known her, he learned to read her expression. He turned off the television. “What’s wrong?”

  “I heard your TV on. Are you okay?”

  He shook his head, afraid if he spoke with a lump in his throat his words would come out garbled.

  “It won’t be long before you’re released from the hospital.” She handed him a box of tissues.

  Elijah agreed. He’d already made up his mind—he was leaving the hospital today.

  Chapter 20

  What, may I ask, are you doing in your street clothes?”

  Candice stood in the doorway of Elijah’s hospital room with her stethoscope draped around her neck and her hands planted on her hips. “I didn’t see any discharge instructions in the doctor’s progress notes.”

  “I haven’t been released technically, but I can’t stay here and do nothing.” Elijah fumbled with the hook and eye on the front of his tattered shirt. With his arm immobilized in a sling and the thick bandages holding his ribs in place, even simple things were difficult to do.

  “Let me help you.” Candice fastened the hooks, then adjusted the arm sling. “How’s your pain?”

  “Manageable.”

  Candice smiled. “I have to advise you that you shouldn’t leave until the doctor discharges you. Your lungs are still weak, and your ribs haven’t healed. Your head and leg have stitches that need to be removed. And your shoulder needs physical therapy. Plus, there’s a good chance of infection.”

  “Advice taken.” He touched his temple where it had been sewn back together. The stiff thread was knotted at the ends, and the stitches along his inner thigh had already started to itch. But stitches weren’t difficult to remove. He’d done it before when one of the mares he was training sliced open her leg. Couldn’t be that much different to remove his own.

  But he’d forgotten about the emergency workers cutting his pant leg up to his thigh until he put on his pants. He made a spectacle of himself with the flopping open pant leg that left him exposed. Too bad his duffel bag with his extra clothes was lost somewhere in the wreckage.

  “Does that mean you’ll stay?”

  “Nope.” He found his socks balled up in the bottom of the bag that held his pants, shirt, boots, and suspenders.

  Candice sighed. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Please don’t leave while I’m gone.”

  “It’ll take me that long to put on mei socks and boots,” he said as Candice left the room.

  Elijah sat on the chair next to the wall and readied the first sock. Hopefully she wasn’t planning to rally reinforcements to convince him to stay. It wouldn’t work. If he stayed it would only prolong reuniting with Catherine, and that wasn’t something he was willing to put off any longer. Too much time had already lapsed between them.

  Candice returned with a clipboard and pen. “Any chance you changed your mind?”

  “Nope.”

  She handed him the clipboard. “In that case, I need you to sign some forms stating you are choosing to leave against medical advice.”

  “Where do you want me to sign?”

  Candice pointed to the line. “I wish you would wait until you’re stronger.”

  “I can’t. I have to go nau.” He signed where she indicated and handed her back the forms. “Thank you for your wunderbaar care.”

  “I was just doing my job.”

  “If I’m ever in the hospital again, I hope you’re mei nurse.”

  “And you might end up readmitted if you don’t take it easy.” She tore off a copy of the signed document and handed it to him along with a packet of other papers. “You’ll need to come back to have your stitches removed in a week. Make sure you follow these patient instructions. It’s important to keep your wounds clean. Inside the information packet is a list of things to watch for. Be sure to read it. If you become short of breath, you must go to the emergency room. Remember, your ribs are still broken.”

  “Jah, I will.” He folded the papers and tucked them into the plastic bag marked Patient Belongings.

  “This is something from me.” She handed him an envelope. “It isn’t much.”

  Elijah stared at his name scrawled on the front, not sure how to respond.

  “Open it.”

  Peeling it open, he eyed the cash. Elijah lifted his gaze to hers. “This is very generous. But you can’t give me money. You work hard for this. Here.” He tried to give it back, but she took his hand and folded it around the cash.

&nbs
p; “You’ll need this,” she said, her eyes aglow with kindness. “I don’t do this with all my patients. Actually, I’ve never done this before. I believe God prompted me to give you this money, and I also believe God will bless me for being obedient. So don’t you dare steal my blessing by giving it back, you hear?”

  Elijah smiled. Before leaving Posen, he’d only pinned a few dollars into the waistband of his pants. The rest of his money he packed in his duffel bag, which was somewhere lost in the wreckage. Not that he had a lot of money. He’d counted on picking up odd jobs once he got to Florida.

  “I don’t know what to say. You’ve blessed me already. You’ve not only taken care of me, but you tried to get information about Catherine’s whereabouts, and now you give me this. Thank you so much.”

  “It’s a gift from God, so don’t thank me. It’s all about Him.”

  “Jah,” he said, feeling put in his place. “I stand corrected. All gut gifts are from God, aren’t they?”

  “Absolutely.”

  He lowered his head. Father, danki for this gift. I pray You will bless the giver and meet all of Candice’s needs according to Your will.

  “Oh, I almost forgot.” She dug her hand into the front pocket of her shirt and removed a handful of safety pins. “These should help keep your pant leg closed.”

  “Ach! Danki—thank you,” he said, relieved to have something to close his pant leg. The woman was an angel.

  “I put my address inside the envelope. Will you drop me a note and let me know when you find Catherine?”

  “Jah, I will for sure.”

  “I’ll be praying for you, Elijah.”

  “Keep Catherine in your prayers too.”

  “Absolutely!” She walked over to the bedside table and picked up the phone. “Where do you want the cab driver to take you?”

  The presence of several news vans had caused a traffic backup along River Ridge Road. With so many of them leaving the accident area, Elijah’s pulse quickened. Surely they wouldn’t leave until all the lost passengers were found. He shifted on the back seat of the cab to get a better look outside.

 

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