by Wes Brummer
“She’s still my best friend.”
“And you did what a best friend would do. You said goodbye.” Sara gave him a tender embrace.
Clumsy, unsure arms wrapped around her as he leaned his head against her. Sara held him, lightly stroking his back.
“What will happen to my friend?”
“Some men will come today and take her to a safe place. In a few days, she’ll be placed in the cemetery not far away. You’ll be able to visit her anytime you want.”
“I didn’t want her to die.”
He understands. A feeling of quiet elation came over her. “Nobody did. But she was sick. You protected her and gave her comfort. Dutch was right when he called you a shining knight.”
Patrick broke their embrace and stood facing Maxine. “I want to stay here ’til they come.”
They continued their vigil for the next two hours. When the county men arrived, Patrick stepped aside while they placed Maxine on a gurney and took her downstairs. He stayed in her room while Sara followed the men downstairs and watched from the porch as they loaded Maxine’s body into the truck. Mrs. Eisner stepped outside and stood beside her. Both watched as the truck drove away.
“I was wrong to worry about Patrick,” she said. “He seems as meek as a kitten. What did you say to him?”
Sara shook her head. “I tried to console him by comparing him to a knight. I’m not sure he understood. I probably made no sense to him at all.”
Chapter Sixty
Article from the front-page of The Wichitan, Saturday Evening edition, May 11, 1935
KSKN Debuts on Alliance Network Tomorrow
Wichita radio station KSKN will officially premiere on the Alliance Broadcasting Systems at 10 a.m. Sunday. “The Alliance will carry our locally produced program, Carey Salt Presents Heaven and Earth,” says William L. Tabor, KSKN Director. “It’s a commentary program about society and politics, hosted by Pastor Sam McGurk.”
Tabor said tomorrow’s hour-long program will be special, originating from a location outside of Wichita. “It’s a remote broadcast, something we hope to do more of in the future.” Mr. Tabor would not divulge where this setting would be. When pressed, he said the site is unique. No other station has broadcasted from such a setting. “Tune in tomorrow morning at ten to find out where it is,” he said.
The show’s commentator, Pastor Samuel McGurk, has avoided much of the controversy that follows Father Charles Coughlin. “Pastor’s program will offer an uplifting message about communities large and small,” the station owner said. “It will open your ears.”
Wendell Krause finished a day of paperwork and strolled to the Covered Dish Café for a bit of supper on his way home. Today’s special was baked chicken and noodles. Eating while listening to a variety show on the radio made a passable evening.
He ordered his meal to-go, and the waitress hurried back to the kitchen. The restaurant was busy this evening. They always were on Saturdays. He stepped aside from the growing line behind him to wait for his order.
Farmers huddled in groups, catching up on gossip. At a separate table, several women, probably their wives, chattered away. A well-dressed young couple sat together on the same side of the table. He really needed to get out more. Meet new people outside of work. But he really wanted to win back Sara. He still caught glimpses of her during his visits with Mrs. Eisner. She was starting to show now. Motherhood looked good on her. Did that change his feelings about her? Wendell shook his head. Of course not. At least she would be around until the residents had to leave in July. A little time remained to call on her again.
On the countertop before him a few copies of Joshua’s ten-cent weekly paper still remained. The top fold of the front-page story was about the continuing effects of the big dust storm over three weeks ago. He picked up the paper.
The headline below the fold riveted his attention:
Missing Woman May be in Joshua County
A picture showed Sara McGuire in big curls, smiling into the camera. He clutched the paper as he read the article.
Her name was Sara McGurk, and her two brothers had been searching for her since April seventh. The article contained her description: height five feet six inches, weight 115 pounds, and she liked to wear long, patterned dresses. The boys were offering a fifty-dollar reward for information on her whereabouts. If anyone had any information, they were to call the Joshua County Sheriff’s office or MO-55545 in Wichita.
“Here you go, Mr. Krause. That will be ninety-eight cents.”
Wendell paid for the meal and the paper and left the eatery. Home was four blocks away.
Her brothers somehow traced her to Joshua. She came here injured but stayed after her ribs healed. Why didn’t she return home? And why did the name McGurk seem so familiar?
His thoughts turned to the evening in the cemetery. She talked about her ambitious father and how he saw her as a threat. They had harsh words that resulted in her retreat from home.
The radio show! Wendell snapped his finger. Pastor Sam McGurk was the radio preacher coming to the tenant house tomorrow. Was it a coincidence that he had the same last name? Could he be her father? Wendell rubbed the back of his neck. Too many questions. No way to connect the dots. He could jump in his car, go out to the county farm, and demand answers from Sara.
Or he could use the phone.
Wendell unfolded the paper and read through the article again, memorizing the telephone number. The dry goods store had a pay phone. He felt in his pocket for change. He had enough. With quickened steps, he hurried to make a long-distance call.
In the store he dropped a nickel in the coin slot and dialed O.
“Number please.”
“MO five, five, five, four, five.”
“Just a moment please,” the operator said. “That will be thirty-five cents for the first three minutes.”
Wendell dug in his pocket and found the right change.
“Thank you. Just a moment. I’ll connect you.”
The line droned several times before a woman’s voice answered. “Hello?”
“Go ahead, please,” the operator said and disconnected.
“Hello, my name is Wendell Krause. Whom am I speaking to?”
“I’m Mrs. Samuel McGurk.”
McGurk. That was name of the preacher visiting tomorrow. Was he Sara’s father?
“Is anyone there?”
“Sorry. I was gathering my thoughts. Do you have a daughter named Sara?”
A gasp. “Yes, I do.”
“Are your sons looking for her?”
“They are.” Then, her voice became more urgent. “What is this about?”
Wendell reeled. He thrust out an arm against the side of the phone booth to steady himself. Connections were falling into place. “Bear with me, Mrs. McGurk. One last question. Is Sara with child?”
A long pause. “What is this about, Mr. Krause?”
“I’m holding a Joshua County newspaper with Sara’s picture on it. It says she is missing. But she is staying at the county farm a few miles outside of town. Doing quite well, all things considered. She misses her family.”
There were muffled voices. Mrs. McGurk must be relaying the news to the people around her. In a minute she came back on the line. “I’m so glad she’s safe. Thank you, Mr. Krause.”
“You’re welcome. Things will be hectic at the tenant house tomorrow. Pastor McGurk is arriving tomorrow for a special radio show. There may be some tension between father and daughter. I could bring her home tonight, but it would be late. Otherwise, I suggest she leave with someone other than her father tomorrow—”
“Please deposit twenty-five cents to keep this connection.”
Wendell found his last quarter and jammed it in the coin slot.
“Go ahead please,” the operator said.
“No,” Mrs. McGurk said. “Sara can’t come home tonight. I’ll find a way to come up there and get her tomorrow.”
“I’d better give you directions to t
he poor farm before we get disconnected.”
“No need. My oldest son told me he knows where it is.”
“The broadcast starts at ten. I suggest you come before that time. The house will be in an uproar. You can retrieve Sara and leave without anyone noticing.”
“Thank you for the advice, Mr. Krause. We’ll try to do that.”
“Sara has been a great service at the tenant house, but she goes by a different name there. Her true identity is bound to come out tomorrow. A quiet exit will be best for all concerned.”
“My sons and I will be there as early as we can.”
“I hope we’ll have a chance to meet, Mrs. McGurk. Sara has been a joy to be around.”
“That’s very nice of you to say so, Mr. Krause. Bless you.”
“Just doing my job. Glad to give you the good news. Good night.” Wendell eased the receiver back on its cradle. He no longer had two months to renew a relationship with Sara. By ten tomorrow she would be a memory.
Chapter Sixty-One
Sunday, May 12, 1935
I shouldn’t have sat so close to the front. Sara covered her ears after the tractor’s third backfire, and the exhaust fumes made her dizzy. She and Beatrice sat in front of a long wooden hay wagon driven by an old farmer. Behind them, the three women calling themselves The Joymakers chattered like schoolgirls about the upcoming broadcast. Can you imagine? People would hear their voices from here to New York. Nearly fourteen hundred miles! Wasn’t that a miracle?
The hitch joining tractor to hay wagon screeched as they turned into the tenant house driveway. In front of the building sat a box truck with the KSKN logo and a trailer attached in back. The wagon bumped to a stop, and the three choir women jumped to the ground. Stacked on the hay wagon were a dozen wooden folding chairs from the church. The women formed a line and relayed the chairs to the door. Before long, both the chairs and singers were inside the house.
The farmer set a stool on the ground and helped Sara and Beatrice step down. Sara turned to him. “Thank you, Levi, for your help.”
“Welcome.” Levi took off his battered Stetson and scratched his balding scalp. “If it’s all the same, ma’am, I think I’ll go help in the barn.” With that, he ambled off, rounding the corner of the house.
Sara stepped forward to examine the radio station truck with Beatrice close behind. The logo was a black circle with KSKN flashing over a stand microphone in electrified blue. Lightning underlined the letters, implying speed. Bea drew beside her. “Is that the radio station you wrote to?”
“Yes, it is.” Icy hands squeezed her stomach. Was Daddy inside? Did he know she was here? This was her home, at least for now, and she would protect it. Sara and Bea walked around the truck to the porch. Mrs. Eisner stood at the top of the steps, hands on hips.
“I want both of you in my office. Now.”
The matron led the way, bustling up the hallway to her office. Sara followed, glimpsing the activity in the common room. One workman—Jeremy Gorham—was attaching cables from a row of car batteries to a square metal box with rows of dials and switches. The choir ladies were examining large capsule-shaped microphones mounted on tall floor stands. Another man stood on a ladder covering windows and walls with heavy blankets. Sara hurried to keep up with Bea as they trailed the matron.
Once inside, the matron closed the door, gesturing to chairs in front of her desk. “I was never for this in the first place. Strangers have taken over my house thanks to a showman who brings a circus wrapped in a box.” She narrowed her eyes. “Someone, it seems, sent a letter to this preacher asking him to save us.”
Sara leaned forward. “I wrote the letter, Mrs. Eisner.”
The older woman tilted her head. “I figured as much. Why you did puzzled me until James and I bought supplies in town yesterday.” She tossed a printed sheet onto the table. Large headline letters read “Our Sister Is Missing” over a picture that Mom took more than a year ago. “Can you explain this, Miss McGuire? Or should I say Miss McGurk?”
Sara closed her eyes. “It’s a long story.”
“I’m sure.” She turned to Beatrice. “The choir is practicing. Go join your friends. Sara and I have matters to discuss.”
Bea glanced from Sara to Mrs. Eisner. “Sara only wanted to help.”
“I understand, young lady. Go on. She’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“Everything will be okay.” Sara smiled, but she clenched her hands.
Beatrice drifted to the door and opened it, but seemed reluctant to leave. “I love you, Sara.” She scurried out, leaving the door open.
The matron rose to her feet and closed the door. “Priscilla Rohlman talked to me yesterday. She would like Beatrice to live with her family. This is an opportunity for her. She deserves a life in a real home.” The matron sat looking down for a moment. Then she lifted her eyes to Sara. “James found the poster on a pole in front of the dry goods store.”
Sara retrieved the sheet and read the text. Jason and Michael had mounted their own search. Somehow, they tracked her to Joshua. A wave of homesickness hit her like a physical blow. She gripped the paper, ready to tear it apart. Instead, she pushed it away.
“Commissioner Krause will be here for the broadcast. He can make arrangements for you to return home.” Her voice took on a gentler tone. “I understand your deception. But why are you not with your family? Having a child out of wedlock is shocking, but families are protective of their own.”
Sara glanced at the closed door. “My father considered me a disgrace. I complicated his plans for fame. For that reason, I had to leave home.”
She arched her brows. “The preacher coming today is your father?”
Sara nodded.
“When I saw your poster, I wondered about the name. Did you mean to draw your father up here?”
Sara stood up. “Of course, not! You know I intended to leave here when Mr. Evans died. I only stayed for Beatrice.” Sara put her hand on the edge of the desk, anything to keep from waving her arms. “I wrote that letter because I wanted to do something for the residents. Before I came here, my job was answering Daddy’s fan mail. I knew the kinds of stories he liked to use for his program. So I wrote the type of letter he couldn’t resist. But I never thought he would come here.”
“I’d say you succeeded all too well.”
Sara sat down. “When Daddy wants to give money to a listener, he sends a letter to the lucky person, telling them to expect a wired check. Then he would drum up his good deed on his show. KSKN was never involved in these transactions. At least, not until now.”
“Your father’s employer shows more ambition. They ran a special telephone line to the house. Mr. Gorham said the program will be aired on a national network.”
“Daddy wants to make a splash. It’s his big debut.”
“There is something you should know. Your father wants to talk to the author of the letter. This brings up a problem. I cannot have this man talking to Beatrice. She is too fragile. That person will have to be you.”
Sara drew back, shaking her head. “I can’t. My father has a temper. We had a terrible argument the night I left home. Can’t somebody else do it?”
The matron smiled. “No. You have to do the interview. There shouldn’t be any trouble. Your father will want this program to succeed. He’ll have a big audience, and will want no trouble. That would leave matters pretty much in your hands.”
“I’d rather be upstairs minding the patients.”
“Stop running, Sara.” She leaned forward. Steely eyes bore into her. “You’ve never been shy about sharing your opinions with me so don’t start now. You started this process. Now you have to finish it.”
“Daddy will be courteous while the microphone is on, but he can be irritable as well. He won’t hold back.”
“Should you?”
“Maybe I should forgive. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? Let go and move on?”
“Forgiveness is admirable. But too much forgiveness w
ithout action will leave you empty. You have a backbone. Use it.”
“Now may not be the right time. The radio program should come first.”
The matron shot her a level gaze. “Child, the program means nothing. Talk honestly with your father. You may never get another chance like this again.”
No one, not even her mother, ever talked to her like this. Sara studied the matron, trying to fathom what experience she went through to gleam such ideas. “Who are you?” she whispered.
“The question should be, who was I? Before I married James, I was Gloria Evans. Cyrus Evans was my father.”
“No!”
“Yes. So follow my advice. Talk to your father as an adult. Not as his child. Otherwise, this day will haunt you for the rest of your life.”
“Did you and Mr. Evans ever come to an understanding?”
Mrs. Eisner bowed her head. At that moment, Sara knew the weight the matron bore, seeing her father’s dementia worsen before her eyes. “We never had a chance to talk. Mother and I fled Joshua when I was very young and settled in Abilene.”
Sara tilted her head “So you never expected to see Mr. Evans—your father—ever again?”
She nodded. “Whenever people asked about my father, my mother always said he died of diphtheria. I saw no reason to change that story. When James and I came here to oversee the farm, I wanted to look Father up and settle accounts between us. But I never did. Too easy to put off, I suppose. Then, a year ago, the sheriff found him wandering along the tracks. By then, he was a cranky old man who didn’t know his own name. Turned out he had a stroke. Dementia had already settled in. With no money, he came under my care. I waited too long. Don’t let this happen to you.”
Sara drew in a breath. She had to do something. But what?
A knock brought the conversation to a halt. The door opened a crack. “Gather your people, Mrs. Eisner.” Jeremy’s voice was urgent. “Pastor McGurk just arrived. We’ll be on the air in thirty minutes.”
Chapter Sixty-Two
Sara dashed to the infirmary after Jeremy’s announcement. It was easy to slide into the role of attendant. Why not wait and go downstairs until she needed to? Mrs. Eisner was right, though. She got her father up here; it was her obligation to see it through—in due time. Now she was seeing patients. Her patients.