Blessed Assurance

by Lyn Cote

  “No, he isn’t.” Miss Wright stood, her hands resting together on the head of her cane.

  Jessie panted, tried to come up with a plan. Linc, where are you? Susan stood beside the cold stove. Ruby shuffled forward. “Boys run away. Then they come home hungry.”

  “I know I shouldn’t be so upset.” Jessie ran her hands over her disheveled hair. “But this wind.”

  Gusts of wind brought the jangling distant fire bells in a ominous ebb and flow. “Another fire,” Miss Wright grumbled. “Those bells kept me up last night.”

  Jessie approached Miss Wright. “I’ll help you get settled for the night.”

  Outside the wind tore a shutter loose on the side of the house and it banged wildly. “I’ll go pound that back into place.” Susan hurried out the back door.

  Letting the older woman lean against her, Jessie helped Miss Wright prepare for bed. “I don’t know why we’re bothering. With Lincoln running off and the fire bells, I won’t sleep a wink.”

  With Susan pounding the shutter, Jessie tried to think of something soothing to say to this, but couldn’t. “Good night.” She returned to the kitchen and sat down at the table with Ruby. Susan rejoined them. A look of helplessness passed between the three women as they glanced at each other.

  “I think it be time to pray,” Ruby announced. She raised her hands. “Oh, Lord, the wind is blowing. Fires is burning and Jessie’s child done run away. Nobody know more’n I do how bad it hurt to have your child took from you. Oh, Lord, the heartbreak. You ’member how it was. More’n ten years I mourned and searched. Finally you bring me here, to my onliest child. Now bring Jessie’s boy home safe like you bring me to Susan. I thank You, Lord. Amen. Miss Jessie, God won’ let you down.”

  Jessie swallowed tears. “Thank you, Ruby.”

  Ruby hugged her, then lowered herself ponderously to the kitchen chair. While Ruby sat stolidly keeping vigil, Jessie and Susan paced, looking out the front and then back door.

  Hours passed. Jessie and Susan sat at the table with Ruby. The alarms and rushing wind combination was wearing them down.

  “I’ll make us more coffee.” Ruby struggled to her feet. “Look out the window! It look red like Judgment Day.”

  Jessie and Susan crowded around Ruby, puffing with her customary shortness of breath. “It must be the fire,” Jessie said, heading out the back door with Susan at her heels. When Jessie, followed by Susan, ventured away from the shelter of the porch, the wind slapped her in the face like an angry hand. And then it tossed Susan’s skirts high and plucked out Jessie’s hairpins. Fire bells to the south pealed incessantly.

  Jessie joined hands with Susan and ran to the fence.

  With the southern skyline lit by an eerie red light, they moved closer together. A sudden explosion, frightening even muffled by distance, halted them.

  Holding her hand by her mouth to funnel her words into Susan’s ear, Jessie asked, “What was it?”

  “It sound like the war all over again,” Susan called to her over the wind even though they were inches apart. “The cannons start fires and they burn all night.”

  “Susan, Mother should have been back hours ago. I’m frightened for her.”

  Susan put her arm around Jessie’s shoulder. “She be all right. We put her and Linc in God’s hands—”

  A burst of wind flew around the side of the small shed on the alley. It picked up Jessie and Susan like cotton fluff and threw them against the fence. “It can’t be a tornado!” Jessie struggled to pull herself upright. “There isn’t any rain!”

  “I never feel a wind like that.” Against the wind, Susan fought her way back to Ruby. “Grandma, you get inside.”

  “There’s more-a me to knock down than you two. Get up here on the porch.”

  Jessie, Susan, and Ruby huddled near the back door, each holding on to the railing. But they didn’t go back inside. The scarlet southern sky was too dangerous, too compelling to ignore. Other neighbors, some clutching shawls around flapping nightgowns endured the violent currents of air to stand and stare at hellish red sky. Soon the ringing of the fire alarms echoed louder—closer.

  A man, running up the alley, startled them all. Jessie followed by Susan raced to catch up with him. “What’s happening?” she called, cupping her hands. “Where are you coming from?”

  Gasping, the man stopped and bent over, pressing his hands to his knees. “The whole downtown is on fire,” he said hoarsely. “The fires are out of control. The wind fans the flames and they jump from roof to roof.”

  As the man took off once more, Susan shouted, “Where you running?”

  “The fire’s headed this way! I’m packing my stuff and heading west! You should, too!”

  Everyone in the alley offered an opinion, but the wind snatched them away. A savage gust slammed against Susan and Jessie. With heads bent into the gale, Jessie holding Susan’s hand trudged back up the path. When they reached Ruby on the porch, Susan said, “It don’t sound very good.”

  “You think the fire gone get this far?” Susan asked Jessie.

  “It never has before.” Jessie bit her lip and looked to the fiery sky.

  “Has the sky ever looked like that before?” Ruby worried aloud.

  “Never.”

  “Then it could happen.” Ruby folded her hands over her large abdomen.

  Jessie began pacing again. “I should have gone after my mother hours ago.”

  “If you gone out, you would just miss her coming home. It’s always that way,” Ruby added. “Your mama is a clever woman an’ she know this town better-n you. ’Sides, we already prayed her into God’s hand along with your boy.”

  Jessie’s fear threatened to fly out of her control. But she couldn’t let it. Both Ruby and Susan were looking to her to take the lead. She took a deep breath. “We better take action.”

  “Just tell me what to do,” Susan replied.

  Jessie surveyed her property. Having a fireman in the family had one advantage—she’d known to take precautions against the spread of fire. Her pile of cooking wood sat at the back of the lot away from any structure and she’d had the winter coal stowed in the coal cellar.

  “Wet down the wooden sidewalk in the front. Ruby, you go in and close all the downstairs windows. I’ll do the upstairs ones. That will prevent sparks from igniting the curtains.”

  Gripping the railing against the wild wind, Susan hurried to the side of the house to the outdoor faucet while Ruby and Jessie went inside.

  As Jessie latched the attic windows, she gained a chilling view of the furious fires to the south. As she scurried down the staircase, Miss Wright called to her, “Jessie, is your mother back?”

  Jessie halted in the doorway. “No, she isn’t.”

  “Why are you closing all the windows?”

  “A man from downtown said the fire’s headed this way.”

  “Do you believe him?”

  Jessie considered not worrying the woman, but decided against it. “From the attic, it looks threatening, but I can’t believe it will advance this far.”

  “I’m getting up.”

  “All right, but don’t come outside. A wind gust actually knocked Susan and me off our feet.”

  “I’ll come to the kitchen.”

  “Fine.” Jessie hurried out the front door.

  For the next hour or more Jessie and Susan worked frantically, taking turns filling buckets and saturating the wood sidewalk, front, and back steps. The fevered radiance in the south flared and flared until the moon was eclipsed in brilliance.

  As Jessie and Susan toiled, a trickle of refugees from the south started, increased to a steady stream, then finally a river at flood stage. The refugees carried a peculiar assortment of items: lamps, portraits, skillets, blankets, hatboxes, and valises stuffed so full they couldn’t be latched. All of them were fleeing north, away from danger.

  “That won’t work!” a stranger yelled at them as Jessie helped Susan douse the house.

  “The fire’s
too hot!” another shouted.

  “Pack your things while you have time!”

  “The fire’s out of control!”

  “Get out while you can!” The warnings called to Jessie and Susan became a litany of rising terror even as they tried to ignore the ever-expanding crimson glow to the south.

  “What are you women doing?” A man dashed toward them. “Are you mad? Do you think you can fight a fiery, rampaging monster with a garden pail!” Soot had blackened the man’s face. He’d lost his hat; his hair blew in all directions with the continuous tumult of air.

  “We have to save our house,” Jessie shouted.

  “Don’t you think we felt that way?” he demanded, pointing to the last of the refugees hurrying up the street.

  “I’m a widow. This boardinghouse supports us!” Watching a shower of sparks dancing over the church steeple two blocks away distracted Jessie.

  “You’re in danger, don’t you understand? People are dying!”

  A jolt of terror shot through Jessie.

  As the man retreated to the street, he yelled back, “For God’s sake, woman, get out while you can!”

  Susan turned to Jessie. “We gotta make sure Linc and your ma have a home to come back to, you hear?”

  Jessie nodded, fighting the blasts of wind. Then another explosion rocked them. Screams shocked Jessie and she turned to see Mrs. O’Toole from her attic window. “It’s only two blocks away! Dear God, save us!”

  “Pack your things!” Mrs. Crawford from the front walk shouted to them. “The fire is nearly here!”

  Jessie hurried to her. “Did Mr. Smith return to board with you? Do you know where he is?”

  “I haven’t seen him in the last few days. Mrs. Wagstaff, you must come with me. You are in real danger.”

  “But we’ll lose everything!”

  “Better to lose everything and save your lives. Don’t delay!” Mrs. Crawford began to run to catch up with her son and daughter. “The fire is burning along the wooden sidewalks and streets and jumping from roof to—”

  Her final words were blown away. The gust brought a shower of flaming sparks into Jessie’s face. Susan screamed. Jessie raced back to her. “What!”

  Susan pointed to the faucet. “The water stopped!”

  Linc running away. Her mother not returning. The fire advancing, advancing…She wanted to run inside and hide under her bed like a little girl.

  “Look!” Susan screamed.

  A line of flames flashed up in the alley behind them. The leaping, orange flames began gnawing at her small barn and her fence. It can’t have reached us! My God, forgive my stubbornness! Help us! We’ve waited too long!

  “Susan, get Ruby to the front,” Jessie shouted. “I’ll get Miss Wright!”

  Jessie found Miss Wright, calmly waiting inside the front door. “I’m ready to go. Here’s your shawl.”

  “I must get—”

  “I’ve gathered all your daguerreotypes and letters from Will in this satchel. You’ll have to carry it.” Both glanced around the foyer as though memorizing it.

  “Jessie!” Susan screeched from the front walk. “Come out! The back porch gone caught fire!”

  As Jessie helped Miss Wright through the door, she put Jessie’s fear into words, “I hope we haven’t delayed too long.”

  Terrified, Jessie led them out into the now empty street. The glare from the burning alley, overwhelming the night’s darkness, cast a terrifying radiance over the faces looking to her. Embers, sparks, burning ash swirled around her in the blistering maelstrom. Ruby’s dress caught fire. Jessie frantically beat the flames with her hand.

  Jessie managed to lead them a block northwest, the two older women staggering between her and Susan. Then the wind shifted and, under her horrified gaze, outflanked them. It blocked the street in front of them. “We’re hemmed in on three sides!”

  Miss Wright pointed east. “We must get to the lake before we are surrounded and cut off. Hurry!”

  Miss Wright increased her halting gait. Jessie took her arm, helping her to hurry. Susan helped Ruby.

  The scorching fire crowded close. Its din crackled, filled Jessie’s ears. The smell of burning wood overwhelmed her. The fire was a giant hand reaching out to pull them into its death grip.

  “I shouldn’t have waited!” Jessie moaned. The smoky air made her cough, but she didn’t slacken pace. They were running for their lives. God help us. Forgive me for staying too long. Please, Lord, these women depended on me.

  Suddenly Ruby collapsed in a heap. “I can’t…go…on—” She coughed, wheezed.

  Choking smoke roiled around Jessie. For a moment, she was paralyzed. The fire swirled just behind her. The wall of a nearby house crashed into the street. Flaming debris cascaded over them like a shower of flaming darts.

  Susan shrieked, “Grandma, get up, the fire is right on us!” The young woman tried but couldn’t lift Ruby. “Help me, Jessie!” Jessie ran to Susan.

  “I can’t go on,” Ruby gasped, choked. “Leave me.” But Jessie and Susan strained to get the old woman back on her feet.

  Miss Wright’s cane slashed down right behind Ruby, jolting them all. “Get up!” the old schoolteacher commanded. “Get up or we’ll all die!”

  “Leave me,” Ruby implored.

  The cane crashed down. “Get up! If you don’t, you’ll kill us all. We won’t go on without you!” The cane slammed down again. “Now!”

  Ruby lunged to her feet. Jessie and Susan grabbed Ruby under her arms. Overpowering heat roared around Jessie’s hair, singeing, burning.

  “Go!” Miss Wright ordered. She prodded Ruby with the point of her cane. “Go! I’m right behind you!”

  Ruby leaned heavily on Jessie and Susan as they dragged her along between them. Exploding barrels, overexpanded by the overwhelming heat, the roar of the fire, collapsing walls, crumbling chimneys, all merged into a horrific din. Searing heat scorched Jessie. She panted for air and choked in black smoke.

  She labored along with Susan to keep Ruby on her feet, her back breaking. Her lungs about to explode. But Miss Wright’s cane prodded relentlessly.

  “The beach!” Jessie gasped. They all stumbled across the last street onto the narrow sandy beach.

  “Don’t stop!” Miss Wright ordered. “The fire is right behind us. To the water!”

  Jessie strained over the last twenty feet of the harrowing trek and waded into Lake Michigan. She shivered violently as her scorched body plunged into the icy October waves. She led the others out onto a shallow sandbar—as far away from the shore as possible. As one, they turned back to view the city.

  “Oh, Lord!” Ruby cried out.

  The whole western skyline flamed in brilliant orange and scarlet. Above the remaining skeletons of buildings, huge billows of black smoke surged, tumbled toward heaven.

  The sight shredded the last of Jessie’s self-control. “My son! Lincoln!” she screamed. “Mother! Lee! I’ve lost them all!”

  Susan pulled Jessie to her and fiercely wrapped her arms around her. She shouted, “Almighty God, you save that boy and Esther and Lee. God, save my people, too! Caleb, Lord, keep him safe. He a stubborn man. You freed us. You can’t leave us without hope. You saved us! You be our hope and salvation. Cover us with Your mighty hand!”

  “That we should live to see such a sight,” Miss Wright said to Ruby as they listened to Susan’s pleas to heaven.

  Ruby faced her. “Lord, have mercy on us.”

  Tears slid down Miss Wright’s cheeks. “I don’t know if I can bear to lose Margaret’s only grandchild.”

  “The Lord will protect him,” Ruby said, looking up at Miss Wright.

  “He must. He must.” Miss Wright put her arms around the other woman’s broad shoulders and began to weep without restraint.

  Ruby bent her own head and rested it on Miss Wright’s breast and let her tears flow too. “Lord, have mercy on us. Lord, have mercy.”

  Chapter 16

  October 10, 1871


  The noisy crowded church-turned-hospital was momentarily peaceful. The afternoon sun sparkled through the stained glass windows in brilliant crimson, royal blue, gilded amber. Taking solace from the glittering display, Lee blinked his gritty eyes. Since the fire began Sunday evening, he had slept little. With the deluge of burnt and broken patients over the past two days, all the knowledge he’d thought he’d forgotten had come rushing back.

  “Doctor?”

  Yawning behind his hand, Lee bent to look at the plump volunteer nurse at his elbow.

  “Have you set up the dispensary yet?”

  “Yes, a tent outside has been organized.”

  “Excellent. We’ll need a list of what is available. Distribute it to the other doctors.”

  “Certainly, Dr. Smith.” The volunteer hurried away.

  “Doctor?” The familiar feminine voice came, sounding surprised.

  “Pearl!” Lee folded her into his arms. “You’re safe.”

  Pearl stepped back to look at him. “So you’re not a bartender, you’re a doctor?”

  “Yes, I’m Dr. Leland Granger Smith.” Two days and two nights of raging fire had left its mark on his attractive, former employer, now soot-covered and disheveled like all the rest.

  “I’m looking for my father.” Her voice hoarse, Pearl searched his face, her hands knotted. “His block burned to the ground. I finally found a neighbor who said my father had been struck by a collapsing wall. This is the third makeshift hospital I’ve been to.”

  His heart aching for Jessie and Linc, Lee rested his hand on her shoulder. “What’s his name?”

  “Lorenz Schiffer.”

  Lee guided her to a small table near the pulpit of the church where he flipped through a stack of papers on the table. “He’s on my list.”

  Pearl pressed her hands to her heart. “He’s here?” Her voice broke with emotion.

  Lee put an arm around her shoulder to brace her as he led her down the aisle, flanked by pews that now served as beds, back to the rows of blankets on the floor of church’s foyer.

  Surveying the tired, injured men lying there, Lee motioned Pearl to a pallet where an old man lay, bandaged but awake.