The group of them moved like a school of fish toward the center of the kitchen where the light was brightest. Jess set the tiny girl on the floor and sat down cross-legged in front of her. Now she could see blood caked on her face, hands, and the front of her overalls. It was mixed in with dark black river mud and dissolved in tracks from the child’s tears. She was shivering from fear and cold, and now she looked up at Jess with the most startling, piercing green eyes. “Erin,” Jess whispered to herself, reminded painfully of the childhood friend she had lost. The child did not react, merely stared at her with tears welling up in her eyes, spilling down cheeks, and shivering.
The sight of tears was like an electric charge that sent Jess into action. Without taking her eyes from the child she began snapping orders.
“Becka, round up some towels and a washcloth. David, please draw some water and set it to boil; get more from the well in the other buckets. Jake honey, see if you have some old clothes that are too small for you in your closet or help Becka find some of hers. Someone get me a lamp lit and put it in the bathroom. Get the first aid kit from my bathroom!”
As the others rushed in various directions, she gently removed the dirty pink coat, pulled the child into her arms, and gently stood up. Above all, whatever had happened to the little girl in the past day or more, Jess was intent on helping her feel safe. She had to make sure that she wasn’t hurt, get her clean and warm, and get some food in her.
David briefly laid a hand on her shoulder and said, “I’ll take care of breakfast and the kids will help with chores; you take care of her.” At seventeen he was every inch of a man in height and Jess was reminded suddenly of how mature and thoughtful he had always been. She could rely on him to take care of the details while she sorted out what injuries were under all of the blood and dirt on the little girl.
The next hour was a flurry of activity. Jess closed herself and the small girl inside of the hall bathroom and talked to her softly, speaking of the small family mostly, as she gently removed the girl’s clothes and worked to remove some of the larger twigs and burrs from her fine hair.
“So Jacob is my son, and he’s seven years old now. He really likes to have stories read to him. Right now we are reading a neat book called Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. Have you ever heard of it?” There was no response, but the tears and the rocking had stopped.
Jess just kept talking until there was a soft knock on the door, “Mom,” came Jacob’s low voice, “the bathwater is ready.” In the background she could hear Tina’s sleepy voice asking the others what was going on.
“Just leave it there Jacob, I’ll get it in a minute,” Jess replied encouragingly. She smiled at the little girl, who had jumped at the knock, and began rocking again. “I’m going to open the door and get the buckets for the bath, so you just sit right there.”
She kept her movements slow and deliberate as she pulled the buckets of water in, alternately steaming or cold, and poured them one by one into the tub. No one appeared near the open door, and she silently thanked David for his help. Becka and Jacob were as curious as cats and would have been right there in the bathroom with her if he hadn’t have warned them off or kept them busy with other tasks.
With the buckets left empty outside the door, and the bathroom once again closed with just the two of them inside, she gently held out her hands to help the little girl into the bathtub. “And then there is Becka, who was Serena’s daughter, but she died so now Becka calls me Mom. She’s a few years older than you; she’s almost six years old now. She has five dolls, and maybe later on after we get you cleaned up she will show them to you. We’ve made very pretty dresses for them to wear.”
She dipped the washcloth in the water and gently washed the little girl’s face. Most of the caked-on blood did not appear to be hers, but there were a few scratches on her pale skin. She was a beautiful little child underneath the grime, and she stared at Jess with an intensity that Jess found both compelling and heart-wrenching. Again she was reminded of Erin, her best friend, and her heart contracted in pain. Whatever had happened, this child had seen something awful and, considering the amount of blood, whoever had been with her was either gravely wounded or irrevocably dead.
She put on her most encouraging smile, “I need to talk to David for a moment, sweetie; will you be all right for a minute or two?” She was surprised to get a small nod. “Okay, I’ll be right back. Oh, wait,” she turned around and began to rummage under the sink, pulling out two toy boats and a handful of battered plastic figurines. “Here, you could play with these if you liked.” She plunked the toys into the water and slipped out of the door.
She was not surprised to see David standing outside, a plate of warm eggs and browned potatoes with the steam still rising from them. His face was knotted with concern as he asked, “How is she; is she hurt bad?”
She smiled a brief reassurance at him, “No, let’s talk out in the kitchen.” He followed her, still carrying the plate. “The blood on her face and clothes definitely isn’t hers. But there’s so much of it, David...whoever she was with, whatever happened to them,” Jess closed her eyes and shook her head, “it doesn’t look good. She’s in shock and she hasn’t said word one. I know she can hear and understand me, so I think she’s just been horribly traumatized. Take the shotgun and head north, scout around and see if you can find anything...tracks, blood, anything. But be careful, for God’s sake, and don’t be out long or Jacob will want to follow along.”
He nodded and looked over at the kids standing quietly in the pantry, trying not to be noticed.
Jacob looked sheepish for a moment, then rebellious, “But Mom, I...”
Jess quieted him with a glance, “Don’t you ‘But Mom’ me. You stay here and help with the chores, Jacob; I need you here with Becka. She flashed a look at Tina, who was looking quite awake and alert now and said, “Tina is in charge and you had better listen to her or answer to me later for it. Now you and Becka go find me some clean clothes for the little girl.”
And with that she took the plate of food from David, turned away, and headed back for the bathroom, ignoring the small mutter of complaint she heard issuing from her son.
When she slipped back into the bathroom the toys had floated to the far end of the bathtub, untouched. And tiny girl just sat there looking at her with those big green eyes.
Jess smiled brightly at her, “Hi, sweetie, I’m back to clean the rest of you. But would you like some food first?” She wrestled the fork around until she had a small bite of egg on it and held it out to the little girl.
The child opened her mouth like a hungry baby bird and ate the bite Jess deposited inside silently. The plate of food was nearly gone before she heard quiet scuffling outside of the door and Becka’s quiet voice, “Mom, we brought some old clothes of mine.”
“Just leave them there, hon, I’ll get them.” She heard the floorboards creak as the children departed. She had kept up a line of chatter all the time she was feeding little ‘Erin.’ But there had been no word from the child, just quiet chewing and that intense green-eyed stare. When Jess had asked her what her name was, the child had simply stared at her, and said nothing.
“Well, we have to call you something. Otherwise it will be ‘Hey, you over there’ or ‘What do you know, little miss so and so!’” Jess looked the tiny child over, now out of the tub and a towel wrapped around her small body. “I had a friend once, and she was my best friend. We grew up together, played together, right here in this very house.”
Her eyes blurred for a moment, her voice caught, “She saved my life, and no matter how bad things got, we always had each other. Her name was Erin. Perhaps, until you are ready to tell us your name, we can call you Erin. Would that be okay?” Little Erin stared up at her, eyes unblinking, and gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. Jess smiled in relief, “Well then, Erin it is. Now let me see what the kids found to dress you in.”
The small pile of clothing outside was an insane mix of tiny c
lothing, worn out boots, and only one thing that looked like it might fit...pajamas. Well, that would work for now.
She grabbed the pajamas and pulled them inside, closing the door behind her. When Erin was dressed in the pajamas, and Jess had made another trip out to find a pair of oversized socks to cover her feet, she was ready to meet the rest of the family.
Jess held Erin’s tiny hand and led her out of the bathroom and into the kitchen and pulled up a chair for her to sit on at the table. She was so small her head barely peeked over the top of the table. There was a small pitcher of milk on the counter and Jacob had just finished rinsing the blood from his finger and wrapping it in a small rag. Tears of pain coursed down his cheeks.
Jess gave him a hug, “Oh Jake, I’m so sorry, sweetie.”
The boy pulled himself up taller. “It’s okay, Mom, Satan didn’t hurt me too bad,” his brave expression belied by the drying tears.
That damn goat was always trying to nip Jess or David, but today little Jacob had been the one to milk her and of course gotten bit for his trouble.
She turned to Becka, who was eyeing little Erin with barely contained curiosity, “Becka dear, get those old phone books out for her to sit on.”
The door from the garage opened, and David walked in shedding his coat and wiping his boots. He shook his head, “I didn’t find any tracks, Jess, nothing at all. And there’s a big one blowing in from the West; looks like we’ll get snow before nightfall.” His eyes took in the small girl seated at the table and he smiled at her. “She looks better, clean at least.”
Becka bustled up with the phone books and Jess lifted Erin up for the books to be slid underneath her, elevating her to a normal level, straightened up, and placed a hand on the child’s shoulder. “Everyone, this pretty little gift that Jacob found on our front stoop is a bit shy and doesn’t feel like talking right now. And since we don’t know her name quite yet, I’ve told her we will call her Erin until she tells us different.”
She smoothed Erin’s damp hair with her fingers. “Now, she’s heard all about you, and I know everyone here is very eager to make friends with you, Erin.” She looked down into the girl’s eyes and spoke softly to her, “Here you are safe, and you can stay with us and be part of our family until we find out where yours is.” She felt the girl give a small shudder under her hand. “And no matter what, if we find your family or not, you can always stay here with us; we’ve plenty of room, food, and love to go around.”
The rest of the group murmured affirmatives and Becka edged closer. She smiled at Erin excitedly, obviously overjoyed at the idea of having a playmate. “I have five dolls, Erin, but I’ll let you have one of them for your very own. Her name is Stacey, but you could give her a different name if you liked. I’ll go get her.” And off she ran to retrieve the doll.
Jacob carefully picked up the pitcher of the goat milk and poured a glass full to the brim. “Here, drink this; it’s real good when it’s warm.”
He set the glass down in front of her then ran to fetch a rag to mop up the slopped mess. David sat down at the table and watched her, taken aback by how pretty the tiny child was now that the grime and muck had been washed away. Erin reached forward and pulled the glass toward her slowly, taking sips, while never taking her eyes off of the other occupants.
Jess considered it all great progress when little Erin didn’t pull away from Becka’s reappearance next to her or the ragged doll that was suddenly thrust in her face. She just eyed Becka gravely, took the doll from her, and regarded the older child gravely. Jess sat down near her and ate the remaining eggs and potatoes that had cooled on the stove.
And the rest of the family slowly settled around the table in the kitchen, recognizing a need for calm and normalcy around the traumatized little girl.
It wasn’t long before Erin’s eyes began to glaze over, and her head began to droop. She didn’t pull away when David stood, walked around to her side of the table, leaned over, and carefully picked her up in his arms, cradling her like a baby. He said nothing, simply walked to the bedroom that Becka and Tina shared and placed her gently on Becka’s bed, covered her with blankets, quietly tiptoed out of the room, and shut the door silently behind him.
“Who knows how much sleep she might have gotten, or how long she was out in the cold,” he said, shaking his head and sliding into a chair at the table. He scratched through his long hair looking frustrated, “I couldn’t find any kind of tracks...maybe I should go out further.”
Jess took his hand in hers, “There’s no need. If she had family, which she must have had, all that blood belonged to someone else and there was plenty of it. Her clothes were absolutely soaked in blood. If she showed up on our front stoop it was because there wasn’t anyone left to take care of her. Those shots we heard yesterday, it’s all connected, David. You and I both know she’s probably here for good.” She missed the flush in his cheeks as he stared down at their entwined fingers and turned away seconds later as she disengaged her grip and busied herself with clearing the dishes from the table. “Kids...water from the well and dishes now, please.”
The children obeyed without complaint, quiet, putting together for themselves what had probably happened to little Erin’s family. No strangers to loss or death, it was sobering nonetheless, and all members of the little family were once again reminded of how easily ended life could be.
It seemed that the gift on their front stoop was here to stay.
Wedding Bells
“Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments. Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove.” – William Shakespeare
“Reverend?” The woman’s voice came from the doorway to the church office. Even now, after taking over all of Reverend Thomas’s duties completely for the past two years, Jeremy still didn’t associate the title of ‘Reverend’ with himself. He looked around for Reverend Thomas out of habit, but the old man had passed away in March, a withered, gibbering shadow of his former self. It was a hot day, the hottest yet this year, and Jeremy had just been wishing he was out under a tree, hanging out with the kids, watching them run and play. His head jerked back to the door and a large drop of sweat that had been collecting along his forehead dripped into his left eye, momentarily blinding him in one eye as he peered through his open right eye at Grace Wilkes’s mother.
Crap.
Karen smiled tentatively at him as he wiped the sweat from his brow and cleared his left eye and motioned for her to come in. “Good morn...afternoon, Mrs. Wilkes,” he stumbled a bit; the sermon he had been working on had been a difficult one and it had apparently taken him through the morning and into the early afternoon according to the antique clock in the corner of Jeremy’s small office. The room was filled with Reverend Thomas’s books and belongings. Jeremy kept looking at them and wondering if he should keep them or give them away. Reverend Thomas had never been married, never had children, and Jeremy was at a loss to find any known relatives.
“May I speak with you, Reverend?”
Jeremy winced at the title. He had never attended seminary and was unsure what the Methodist church would have thought about him, a conflicted half-agnostic and lapsed member of the Church of Christ.
Half the time he wasn’t sure he believed in God, but it sure seemed to reassure some of the older crowd. “Please, call me Jeremy.”
Karen smiled, “Well, I guess, considering you and Grace and everything.” Jeremy winced; he knew what was coming next. “Grace turned nineteen last month, you know.”
“Yes, ma’am, I know.”
“Don’t you dare, ma’am me, Jeremy Deeds, I’m barely two years older than you and you know it.” Jeremy’s discomfort grew. Karen smiled again, perhaps to show him her words were just that, words, and that she wasn’t offended. “It feels strange coming here, though, because it should be Anthony here, the right of the father to speak about his daughter, and all that.” She looked around the tiny room, and tugged at her cl
othes which were clinging from the miserably humid heat. “Shall we go outside?”
“Sure.” Jeremy stood up. The heat actually felt good in his legs; it was the winters that were the worst for him. He could predict bad weather better than the old-timers from the strong aches he felt in his damaged legs, but in the summer there was some relief, as if the sun could reach through skin and muscle and warm the irrevocably damaged bones beneath. Still, it wasn’t easy to walk far, no matter what.
They walked slowly out the door; the sun was bright overhead and the waves of heat rippled across the empty parking lot. Grace and the orphans were nowhere to be found; perhaps they had gone to the creek to swim. It certainly was a good day for it. Karen pointed to a tree a hundred feet away and they walked over to it and sat down. Before Karen could say anything, Jeremy said, “Mrs. Wilkes...”
“Call me Karen.”
“Um fine, Karen, I...I just wanted you to know...that I...I’ve never done anything inappropriate with Grace,” he said, fumbling over the right words to say.
Her loud peal of laughter surprised him. “And well I know that!” She smiled and looked concerned, “Is that what you thought I was doing here? Warning you away from her?”
Jeremy had a hard time meeting her eyes. “I just...”
“Do you like Grace, Jeremy?” Her question was soft.
“Of course I do, I mean, she is a great help around here, the kids love her, and...she was a great comfort and help with Reverend Thomas, especially in those last days.”
“But do you like her?”
“Mrs. Wilkes,” he couldn’t manage the informality of her first name to such a serious question. This was Grace’s mother he was talking to, “I’m thirty-nine years old and Grace is...”
“And Grace is an adult, capable of love,” Karen interrupted. At his shocked expression, she smirked a bit, “I didn’t choose you; she did. And twenty years between you is a sight better than the 23 years that separated me from my Anthony. That marriage worked just fine,” her eyes filled, “right up to the end of our time together.” She shook her head, choking back the memory of her husband lying dead on the ground.
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