Rachel tossed the paper aside. The news was already old. The drivers were no longer threatening action. They had taken action that morning. Their action had brought Rachel and Sam to the hospital lobby instead of to the Stockards’ house for a scrumptious Easter dinner. Rachel’s stomach was starting to growl. She thought about the cherry pie, and her eyes filled with tears.
Where had Sam gone? Rachel glanced around the lobby, searching for her brother. They had promised Papa not to wander off. Her eyes darted from person to person until at last she found him.
Sam had shuffled up to the big green desk. The lobby was just as full as it had been before, but the crowd seemed more organized. A different nurse was on duty. She seemed less flustered and more in control. “The line forms to the left,” the nurse called out every few minutes. She answered questions and passed out forms for people to fill out. Every once in a while, someone wanted to ask a question without waiting in line. But the nurse firmly said, “The line forms to the left.”
Papa had been out to the lobby to check on Sam and Rachel two times in the last two hours. No new emergencies had come in for more than an hour, and Dr. Lee and Dr. Sheridan had finally showed up to help Papa. Rachel thought that things ought to be settling down. She wondered where Papa was now. She supposed he was at the bedside of the patient he had intubated.
She knew Papa had read a lot of articles about intubation before he ever tried it. But finally he was convinced that the only way to help some patients breathe was to intubate—to put a long tube down their throats so they could get air to their lungs. Then Papa would make sure the patient was all right and breathing on his own before he would relax.
Papa was a good doctor. Rachel was sure of that. But she wanted to know how much longer the good doctor would have to stay at the hospital.
Rachel eyed the long line ahead of Sam at the green reception desk. She did not want to stand in that line with him just to ask if the nurse knew what her father was doing. How could that nurse know? She had been in the lobby the whole time. Rachel got to her feet and moved toward the door that led to the examination room behind the lobby. Maybe Papa was still there.
As she got closer to the room, Rachel cocked her ear. She did not hear any noises coming from the room. Probably all the patients have been moved to the wards, she thought. But she wanted to check the room just to be sure Papa was not there. With her hand on the doorknob, she turned to look around. She did not see Nurse Howard anywhere. Still with her back to the door, she turned the knob and leaned back on the door and pushed it open.
The clatter that followed told Rachel that the room had not been empty. When she got the door open, she saw a dismayed Nurse Howard scrambling to pick up a tray. Medical instruments had scattered all over the floor.
The nurse scowled at Rachel. “Look what you did!”
“I’m sorry,” Rachel exclaimed. “I’ll help you pick everything up.” She stooped to the floor and retrieved a pair of steel tongs.
“Don’t touch anything,” Miss Howard said. “Some of these are delicate instruments. Now they’ll have to be cleaned all over again.”
“I–I’m sorry,” Rachel muttered.
“Perhaps you haven’t noticed that we are rather busy around here today.”
“Of—of course,” Rachel stammered. “I was just looking for my father.”
“As you can see, he’s not here. Now scat.”
Rachel scurried out of the room and back to the lobby. Sam had taken a seat again, and Rachel sank into the chair beside him, her heart pounding.
Sam chuckled. “Something tells me you’ve been doing something you shouldn’t have been doing.”
Rachel was not amused. “I was just looking for Papa.”
“He said to wait here. The nurse said he’s busy setting a broken leg.”
“He told us to wait a long time ago. Why isn’t he finished?”
“A lot of people were hurt in the riot,” Sam said. “Papa is a doctor. He has to take care of them.”
“But what about Mama and Carrie?” Rachel asked. “Papa was going to look for them.”
“They haven’t shown up here,” Sam said. “That probably means they are all right.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I’m not sure. But it makes sense.”
“I’m getting hungry,” Rachel said. “We were supposed to eat hours ago. I didn’t eat any breakfast because I wanted to be sure I had room for pie.”
“I’m sorry about your pie,” Sam said softly.
“Right now I would settle for burned toast.”
“Me, too.”
Rachel stood up again.
“Sit down, Rachel,” Sam said. “Just relax. There’s nothing you can do but wait.”
“I can’t. I’m tired of sitting. I’m tired of this room. I’m tired of this day!”
“It has been a long day,” Sam agreed.
Rachel started pacing. The crowd in the lobby was thinning out. People with minor injuries were being released, and their families took them home. Rachel stood and looked out the window on the side of the building. The street looks better, she thought. Not so many people were roaming around. As the afternoon gave way to evening, people took shelter in their homes.
Suddenly Rachel lurched forward. She had been pushed from behind. Remembering the feeling of being pushed in the middle of the mob earlier in the day, she panicked for a second. Then she spun around. As she did, Carrie grabbed her around the waist.
“Carrie! You’re all right!” Rachel exclaimed. “Where’s Mama?” “Right here,” came Mama’s voice.
Rachel threw herself into her mother’s embrace. Sam joined the reunion.
“I’ll go find Papa,” he offered. Off he went, before Rachel could tell him not to bother looking in the examination room behind the lobby.
In almost no time, Sam was back with Papa. Rachel smiled, relieved, as her parents embraced, and then Papa gave Carrie a messy kiss on the forehead.
“Over here,” Papa said, and he herded his family to an empty corner of the lobby. “I’m so glad you’re all right. But where have you been?”
“I didn’t know what to think when I lost track of Sam and Rachel,” Mama said. “I had to trust that the Lord would take care of them. It was all I could do to keep track of Carrie in that mob.”
“Papa, there were millions and millions of people,” Carrie said.
Mama smiled. “Thousands at least. I’ve never seen such a mob, even on a parade day.”
“So where did you go?” Rachel wanted to know.
“We stayed to the edge of the crowd as much as we could,” Mama answered. “I tried to look for you at the next corner from where I lost you. But there were too many people! And they were doing crazy things!”
“We went shopping,” Carrie blurted out.
“Shopping?” Rachel was confused.
“Not exactly,” Mama said, “but we saw Mr. Johanssen in the crowd, and he opened up his shop for us. He kept going on to find any women and children who needed help.”
“That’s a relief,” Papa said. “Remind me never to charge him for medical care again!”
“We saw women and children in the street,” Sam said. “But some of them were helping with the riot.”
“I know,” Mama said sadly. “Some of the children didn’t understand what was going on. They either got scared, or they got excited and joined in.”
“Mama,” Rachel said, “I never found Mr. Borg. If all the trouble is over, maybe I could go see if he’s all right.”
“Rachel, you are sweet and thoughtful to want to do that,” Mama said, “but we can’t be sure the streets are safe yet.”
“Sam could go with me.”
Mama shook her head. “We’ll have to find out about Mr. Borg another way.”
“This is the nearest hospital,” Sam said. “If he didn’t come here, he’s probably not hurt.”
“He wouldn’t come here,” Rachel said, “because he doesn’t have
any money to pay doctors.”
“If he were seriously hurt,” Papa said, “someone would have brought him here anyway.”
“I’m hungry,” Carrie complained. “When are we going to have Easter dinner?”
Mama and Papa looked at each other.
“It looks like we’ll have to skip Easter dinner with the family this year,” Mama said. “But we can have a simple meal with our own family.”
“What will we eat?”
“Let’s see what we have.”
“I dropped the cherry pie,” Rachel said sadly. “I hung on to it as long as I could.”
“I’m sure you did,” Mama said.
“And they were throwing the potatoes in the crowd,” Sam said.
“That’s all right,” Mama answered. “The potatoes were not cooked anyway.”
“Then what do we have?” Rachel asked.
“I have biscuits!” Carrie proclaimed. “They’re a little squashed, but I still have them.”
“And I’ve got corn pudding,” Mama said, “and apple pie. I’m sorry it’s not the pie you made, Rachel, but it is a pie.”
“Can we eat now?” Carrie said. “I’m too hungry to wait until we get home.”
Mama and Papa looked at each other again. It was well past suppertime. No one had eaten since before church that morning.
“Certainly,” Papa said. “I’m sure I can find some of the trays they use to feed the patients.”
While Papa went to find the trays, Mama pulled a little table out of the corner of the room and set the food on it. The bread really was squashed. Rachel figured Carrie must have been holding it tightly when she was frightened. Rachel did not blame her little sister for squashing the bread.
When Papa returned, they gathered around the little table on their knees.
“It’s not much of an Easter dinner,” Papa said, “but we have a lot to give thanks for.”
They held hands as Papa prayed. “Lord, we are grateful that You have protected our family during the danger today. Thank You for bringing us safely back together. And on this Easter Sunday, we give thanks for the power of the resurrection, when Jesus Christ was raised from the dead so that we could have peace with God. May You grant peace to our city tonight. Amen.”
Mama started tearing the bread into chunks. Papa had brought forks for the corn pudding and apple pie.
“Dr. Borland,” called the nurse from the desk, “they need you in the back again.”
Papa sighed. “Go ahead and eat. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Rachel watched reluctantly as Papa disappeared once again.
CHAPTER 12
A Birthday and a Baseball Plan
A few days after the riot, Rachel and her mother were working about the house. Sam had left for baseball practice, and Carrie was with friends. As usual, Papa was not expected home from work until late.
“Rachel, don’t you have a birthday coming up?” Mama said, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. “How would you like to celebrate this year?”
Rachel put the towel that she was folding onto the pile of freshly laundered linens. “You know, I think I would like to have just a small party with a few friends.”
Rachel had been giving her birthday some thought. She was finding it harder and harder to be in the middle of the conflict between Colleen and Janie. They were her oldest friends. She could barely remember a time when they hadn’t played together. Now she was torn between the two—and she didn’t like the feeling.
And then there was Annalina. Rachel enjoyed being with her and teaching her English. If only she could bring Annalina and Colleen and Janie together! Rachel felt frustrated that the other girls in her class still did not want to be friends with Annalina. If they just got to know her, Rachel was sure they would like her as much as she did. But how could she help the other girls understand Annalina?
Maybe she could start with Colleen and Janie.
“Who would you like to invite?” Mama seemed relieved that Rachel wasn’t asking for a big party.
“Just Annalina—and Colleen and Janie. I’ll invite them tomorrow. Could we have a cake and some ice cream?”
Mama smiled. “Sure.”
As she went back to folding her laundry, Rachel could not help but worry a bit about her plan to bring her friends together.
The next baseball practice, on the Saturday after the riot, Rachel tagged along with Sam. She loved watching baseball, even practice baseball, and the boys never seemed to mind if she was there. She settled on one of the wooden benches at the edge of the field and leaned forward, anxious to see how things would go today.
The practice did not start out very well. The players straggled to the field late; some of them never arrived at all. Simon came, but no matter how many questions the others asked, he would not explain why he had not played in the game against the Seventh Street Spades.
Rachel knew that her brother had an idea for making his team better. They needed a coach. All the “real” teams had a coach. Sam and Rachel had talked it over, and they knew just who would be the perfect guy for the job—their cousin Seth.
“We’ve been playing together since we were nine,” Rachel heard Sam tell his teammates, “and we do pretty well.”
“That’s right!” exclaimed Steve. “We’re the best.”
“The best,” echoed Elwood.
“But I think we could be better, don’t you?” Sam challenged his team.
Heads started bobbing.
“I know just what we need,” Sam said. “We need someone with experience to work with us, to teach us, to help us figure out some good plays.”
“Are you talking about a coach?” Joe asked.
“That’s right,” Sam answered. “We could get our own coach. Some of the other teams are starting to do that.”
“I heard that the Oak Lake team has a coach,” Elwood said.
“Why can’t we have a coach, too?” Sam asked. “What do you think, Joe?”
Joe shrugged. “We’re doing all right on our own, but we could probably do better with a coach.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Sam said.
Simon was starting to warm up to the idea. “We could find someone older than we are—but not too old.”
“It has to be someone who really loves baseball,” Steve said. “When you’re trying to win a game, attitude counts more than anything else. You can have all the skill in the world, but if your attitude is not right, you’ll get nowhere.”
“Do you really think a coach could help us?” Jim asked.
“Sure!” Sam responded. “We’ll find someone who knows how to throw pitches that are hard to hit, someone who can help us with our swings.”
“Someone who can hit long fly balls for us to practice catching,” Steve added. “Exactly!”
“But where would we find someone like that?” Simon asked. “Who is going to have time to help a boys’ team?”
“I think I know someone who would do it,” Sam said. He held his breath, getting ready to speak the name he had in mind.
“Who?” Simon asked.
“Yeah, who?” Jim wondered. “Seth Stockard.”
“Who’s Seth Stockard?” Elwood asked.
“I know who that is,” interrupted Simon. “That’s your cousin.”
“He’s my second cousin, actually,” Sam clarified. “He loves baseball, and he’s really good at it.”
“Has he ever been a baseball coach before?” Steve asked. “We need someone with experience, lots of it.”
“I don’t think he’s ever been a coach,” Sam said, “but he goes to professional games all the time. He understands the strategies they use. He could teach them to us.”
“And you really think he would do it?” Jim was still skeptical.
“I think all we have to do is ask him.”
“Wait a minute,” Simon said. “How old is Seth Stockard?”
“He’s eighteen.”
“Does he go to college?”
Simon still looked doubtful. “What does he do now?” Sam took a deep breath and gave the answer he had hoped to avoid. “He has a temporary job at the railroad station.” “So he’s a union man,” Simon said flatly.
Sam remembered the day he had seen Seth passing out union leaflets. “The important thing is that Seth understands baseball,” Sam insisted.
“Attitude is everything,” Steve said. “We don’t need someone coming in here and spreading union propaganda.”
“Who said anything about the unions?” Sam countered. “We’re talking about a baseball coach. Seth would be perfect.”
“Well …” Simon leaned on a bat. “You did say his job at the railroad was just temporary. He probably hasn’t joined the union himself.”
“So what if he has joined the union?” Jim snapped. “We have to be careful who we have around here,” Simon said. “What is that supposed to mean?” Jim pressed. “Yeah, what is that supposed to mean?” Tad echoed. Rachel thought Tad seemed eager for Simon and Jim to go nose to nose.
“Take it easy,” Sam said. “We’re talking about baseball, remember?” “Doesn’t Seth’s father work at a bank?” Simon asked. “Yes, that’s right.”
“So he doesn’t come from a union family.”
“That’s not what matters. We need a coach, and he can help us.”
Elwood was watching Steve carefully. Joe shuffled around the edge of the circle acting like he was not interested in the discussion. Rachel could see that Tad’s eyes were bright with the hope of an argument. Hank was so nervous his chin twitched.
“I say we give it a try,” Steve said finally.
“Me, too,” Elwood immediately added.
“I don’t suppose it could hurt,” Jim conceded.
Rachel was watching Simon. His jaw worked back and forth while he thought about the question. Rachel clasped her hands nervously in her lap, hoping that Sam’s plan would succeed.
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