Kristian was on his feet immediately, followed by Patricia whose troubled eyes had been resting on him throughout the exchange.
Skipp Westgaard spoke up next. “Mrs. Westgaard, don’t you think our pas will drive to school to get us?”
“I’m afraid not, Skipp. Not until this snow lets up.”
“You mean we might have to stay in the schoolhouse overnight?”
“Maybe.”
“B... but where we gonna sleep?”
Allen Severt answered, “On the floor — where else, dummy?”
“Allen!” Linnea reprimanded sharply.
Allen demanded belligerently, “What I wanna know is what we’re gonna eat for supper.”
“We’ll share whatever is left in the lunch pails, and I—”
“Nobody’s gettin’ my apple!” he interrupted rudely.
Linnea ignored him and went on. “I have emergency crackers and raisins on hand. There’s water to drink and I have a little tea. But we’ll worry about that if and when the time comes. For now, why don’t you all think up a game to keep yourselves occupied? In case you hadn’t guessed, school is over for the day.”
That brought a laugh.
Overhead the school bell sounded. Automatically Linnea checked her watch.
She moved back to her desk to make a second entry: 3:55. We will toll the school bell every five minutes to guide in any ships that might be lost in the night.
But she couldn’t sit at her desk a moment longer. The windows drew her, eerily. She stood staring out at the obscured world, shuddering within. With her back to the room she folded her hands on the sill and twisted her fingers together till the knuckles paled. Her eyelids slid closed, her forehead rested against the cold pane, and her lips began moving in a silent prayer.
* * *
The horses had been acting skittish all the way from town. Theodore continuously checked the sky, the horizon, the road behind, the road ahead, wondering at the animals’ restlessness. Coyotes, he thought. You always had to be on the lookout for coyotes out here. They spooked the horses. Not that they’d attack, only make the horses bolt. That’s why Theodore carried the gun — to scare the varmints off, not to kill them. Coyotes ate too many grain-eating critters to want to see them dead.
Seeing none, his thoughts turned to Linnea. He shouldn’t have been so rough on her, but — hang it all! — she didn’t understand. She was too young to understand! You raised a boy, pinned your hopes on him, watched him grow, nurtured him, provided love, sustenance, everything, only to find yourself helpless when he took a fool notion into his mind to jeopardize his life.
But he’d been unfair about the other part, too. It rankled, how he’d taken her to task for bringing about the pregnancy as if he’d had no part in it. Displeased with himself, he forced his mind to other things.
The burrowing owls were back, nesting in the abandoned badger holes from last year — a sure sign of spring come for good. The snowshoe rabbits had exchanged their white coats for brown. Ulmer said the trout were already biting down on the Little Muddy. Maybe the three of us, me and Ulmer and John, should try to get down there together one day soon and dip our lines.
“Ulmer says the trout’re bitin’.”
Beside him, John’s eyebrows went up in happy speculation, though he didn’t say a word.
“Sounds good, uh?”
“You betcha.”
“We get an early start tomorrow and we could have the northeast twenty done by four or so.”
They rode along, content, picturing fat, wriggling “rainbows” flopping on the creek bank, then sizzling in Ma’s frying pan.
Cub shied.
“Whooooa... Easy there, boy.” Theodore frowned. “Don’t know what’s wrong with them today.”
“Spring fever, maybe.”
Theodore chuckled. “Cub’s too old for that anymore.”
John noticed it first. “Somethin’ up ahead.”
Theodore’s eyes narrowed. “Looks like snow.”
“Naw. Sun’s out.” John leaned back and gave the blue sky a squint.
“Never saw snow that looked like that. But what else could it be?”
The first bank of chill wind struck them full in the face.
“Might be snow after all.”
“That thick? Why, you can’t see the road on the other side of it nor nothin’ behind it.”
They stared, intent now, puzzled. Theodore stated wryly, “Better turn your collar up. Looks like we’re about to leave spring behind.” Then he calmly rolled his sleeves down and settled his hat more firmly on his head.
When the wall of wind and snow struck, it rocked them backwards on the buckboard seat. The horses danced nervously, rearing in their traces while Theodore stared in disbelief. Why, he couldn’t see Cub’s and Toots’s heads! It was as if somebody had opened a sluice gate that held back the Arctic. Like an avalanche it hit, a flaky torrent mothered by a fearsome wave of cold air that grew colder by the second.
Struggling, Theodore finally got the animals under control. Though they moved forward, he had no idea where to direct them, so he let them have their heads. “You think it’s only a snow squall, John?” he shouted.
“Don’t know. That air’s like ice, ain’t it?”
The air was ice. It bit their cheeks, pecked at their eyelids, and filtered into their collars.
“What you wanna do, John? Go on?”
“You think Cub and Toots can keep on the road?” John shouted back.
Just then the team answered the question themselves by rearing and whinnying somewhere in the white blanket that kept them from sight.
“Giddap!” But at the slap of the reins the horses only complained and shied sideways.
Cursing under his breath, Theodore handed the lines to his brother. “I’ll try leading ‘em!” He vaulted over the side, bent into the wind, and groped his way to the horses’ heads. But when he grasped Toots’s bridle, the team pranced and fought him. Theodore cursed and tugged, but Toots rolled her eyes and planted her forefeet.
Giving up, he made his way back to the wagon again and shouted up at John, “How far you figure we are from Nord-quist’s place?”
“Thought we passed it already.”
“No, it’s up ahead.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“We could take Cub and Toots off the wagon and let them lead on. They might get us there.”
“But will we see the house when we’re in front of it?”
“Don’t know. What else we gonna do?”
“We could walk the fence line.”
“Don’t know if there’s any fence along here.”
“Hold on. I’ll check.”
Theodore left the wagon behind, walked at a right angle from it, feeling with his hands. He hadn’t gone five steps before he was swallowed up by the snow. He checked both sides of the road. There were no fences on either side. He had to follow the sound of John’s voice back to the wagon. Sitting beside John again, he announced, “No fences. Try the horses again.”
John shouted, “Here, giddap!” He slapped the reins hard. This time the horses lurched forward valiantly, but in moments they became disoriented and started shying again.
Theodore took the reins and tried coercing them. “Come on, Cub, come on, Toots, old gal, on with y’.” But they continued balking.
The temperature seemed to be dropping at a steady, relentless pace. Already Theodore’s fingers felt frozen to the lines, and though he’d rolled down his shirt sleeves, they were little protection against Nature’s unexpected wrath. The wind keened mercilessly, straight out of the west, smacking their faces to a bright, blotchy red.
Holding his hat on, Theodore took stock of the situation. “Maybe we better wait it out,” he decided grimly.
“Wait it out? Where?”
“Under the wagon, like Pa did that time. Remember he told us about it?”
John looked skeptical, but his eyebrows were coated wit
h white. “I ain’t much for cramped spaces, Teddy.”
Theodore clapped John’s knee. “I know. But I think we got to try it. It’s gettin’ too cold to stay up here in the wind.”
John considered a minute, nodded silently. “All right. If you think it’s best.”
Together they climbed down and released the traces with stiff fingers. They removed the singletree, laid it on the ground, and beside it piled flour, sugar, and seed bags, then did their best to kick away the snow and clear a place for themselves. When they overturned the wagon it landed atop the sacks, braced up far enough that they could shinny underneath the opening. They tied the horses to a wheel and Theodore went down on his knees.
His gun went under first, he next, on his side, shivering, hugging himself, watching John’s heavy boots shuffling nervously on the far side of the opening.
“Come on, John. It’s better out of the wind.” Inside the cavern his words sounded muffled.
John’s boots shuffled again, and finally he got down, rolled himself underneath, and lay facing the thin band of brightness with wide, glassy eyes.
Rocks and last year’s dried weed stalks gouged into Theodore’s ribs. In spite of their efforts to kick the snow away, some remained. It melted through the side of his shirt and clung to his skin in icy patches. Something with prickles scratched through his sleeve and bit the soft underside of his arm.
“Best try to get comfortable.” Theodore raised up as best he could, tried to scoop the biggest pebbles and dried plant stalks from under his ribs, then lay down with an elbow folded beneath his ear. Beside him, John didn’t move. Theodore touched his arm. “Hey, John, you scared?” John was trembling violently. Theodore made out the stiff shake of John’s head in the dim light. “I know you don’t like bein’ cooped up much, but it probably won’t be for long. The snow’s bound to let up.”
“And what if it don’t?”
“Then they’ll come and find us.”
“Wh... what if they don’t?”
“They will. Linnea saw us heading for town. And Ma knows we ain’t back yet.”
“Ma ain’t rid a horse in years, and anyway how could she get through if we couldn’t?”
“The snow could stop, couldn’t it? How much snow you reckon we can have when it’s almost May?”
But John only stared at the daylight seeping in beneath the wagon, petrified and shaking.
“Come on. We got to do our best to keep warm. We got to combine what little heat we got.” Theodore shinnied over and curled up tightly against John’s back, circling him with one arm and holding him close. John’s arm came to cover his. The cold fingers closed over the back of Theodore’s hand, clenching it.
When John spoke, his voice was high with panic. “Remember when Ma used to make us go down in the ‘fraidy hole when there’d be a bad summer storm?”
Theodore remembered only too well. John had always been terrified of the root cellar. He’d cried and begged to be released the whole time they’d waited out the storm. “I remember. But don’t think about it. Just look at the light and think about something good. Like harvest time. Why, there’s no time prettier than harvest time. Riding the reaper off across the prairie with the sky so blue you’d think you could drink it, and the wheat all gold and shiny.”
While Theodore’s soothing voice rolled over him, John’s unblinking eyes remained fixed on the reassuring crack of light. Occasionally miniature whirlpools of snow puffed in on a back-draft, touching his cheeks, his eyelashes. The wind whistled above, setting one of the wagon wheels turning. It rumbled low, reverberating through the wood over their heads.
After some time, Theodore gently loosened his hand from John’s tight grip. “Put your hands between your legs, John. They’ll keep warmer there.”
“No!” John’s fingers clutched like talons. “Teddy, please.”
John was bearing the brunt of the cold, lying closer to the opening. But his fear of confinement seemed worse than his fear of freezing, so Theodore assured him, “I’m only going to put my arm over yours, okay?” He lined John’s arm with his own and found the back of his hand like ice.
“Snow’s a good insulator. Pretty soon we’ll probably be snug as a cat in a woodbox.”
Reassuring John kept Theodore’s own panic at bay. But as soon as he fell silent, it threatened again. Think sensibly. Plan. Plan what? How to keep warm when we’re dressed in thin cotton shirts and neither one of us smokes, so we don’t even have any matches to burn the wagon if we need to? Even their long winter underwear had been discarded days ago when the weather turned mild. Short of the snow suddenly stopping, there was nothing that could help them. And if it didn’t stop...
You shouldn’t have tied the horses.
Oh, come on, Teddy. One of you panicking is enough. You’ve only been under here twenty minutes. Takes a little longer than that to freeze to death.
But it already felt like parts of him were frostbitten.
He laid and thought about the horses until he couldn’t hold back any longer.
“Listen, John,” he said as casually as possible. “I gotta roll out a minute.”
“What for?”
Damn you, John, after a lifetime of not asking questions, this is a fine time to start.
“Gotta make yellow snow,” he lied. “But you stay here. I think I can roll over you.”
Outside, he was alarmed to see how quickly the drift was building up around their makeshift shelter. Already it had stopped the free wheel from turning. He flicked the reins off the wagon wheel, and in spite of the cold, took a moment to affectionately brush each horse’s muzzle, whispering into their ears, “You’re a good old girl, Toots... You, too, Cub. Remember that.” Their rumps were to the wind, head down. Snow glistened in their tangled manes and tails, but they stood patiently, unconcerned about whatever befell.
Just like John’s done all his life.
But fatalistic thoughts did no good. Theodore pushed them from his mind and went down on one knee. As his palm pressed a sack of seed corn, he had an inspiration. He leaned low and peered through the opening. “Roll to the back, John. Gonna give us something warmer to lay on.” He took a jackknife from his pocket, plunged it into the bag, and tore a long gash. As the corn poured out he scooped it under the wagon with both hands. It was blessedly warm with trapped heat. “Spread it in there, John.” He had only three sacks to spare. The others were necessary to hold the wagon up and give them an escape hatch. But when the three bags were distributed, the corn made a more comfortable bed. Huddled again, belly to back, the two men wriggled into it, absorbing its warmth.
They’d been snuggled for some time when John asked, “You didn’t go out to pee, did you?”
Startled, Theodore could only lie. “Course I did.”
“I think you went out to turn Cub and Toots loose.”
Again Theodore thought, A fine time for you to get wise, big brother.
“Why don’t you close your eyes and try to sleep for a while. It’ll make the time go faster.”
But time had never moved so slowly. After a while the corn shifted, leaving them lying on pebbles and sticks again. What little warmth they’d absorbed from it ended. The shudders began — first in John and eventually in Theodore. They watched the white of day fade to the purple of evening.
They’d been lying in silence for a long time when John spoke. “Did you and the little missy have a fight, Teddy?”
A knot clogged Theodore’s throat. He closed his eyes and tried to gulp it down, refusing to admit why John had brought up such a subject at a time like this.
“Yeah,” he managed.
John didn’t ask. John would never ask.
“She’s pregnant and I... well, I got real ugly about it and told her I didn’t want any more babies.”
“You shouldn’t’ve did that, Teddy.”
“I know.”
And if they froze to death under this damn wagon, he’d never have a chance to tell her how sorry he was. Her
image as he’d last seen her filled his mind — standing with a rake in one hand, her eyes shaded by the other, the children scattered all around her like a flock of finches, and the white building in the background with its door thrown wide. He recalled the row of cottonwoods coming in green at their tips, the ditch filled with wild crocus, Kristian raking near the edge of the ditch — the two people he loved most in the world, and he’d been ugly to both of them lately. Linnea had waved and called! hello, but he’d been stubborn and had scarcely waved back How he wished now he had. He ached and felt like crying. But if he cried, who’d keep John from giving up?
To make matters worse, John suddenly snapped. He thrust Theodore’s arm away and shinnied on his belly toward freedom.
“I can’t take it no more. I gotta get out of here for a while.”
Theodore grabbed the seat of John’s overalls. “No! Come on, John, it’s bad under here but it’s worse out there. The temperature is dropping and you’ll freeze in no time.”
“Let me go, Teddy. Just for a minute. I just got to, before night falls and I can’t see no more.”
“All right. We’ll go out together, check the horses and the snow. See if it’s lettin’ up.”
But it wasn’t. The horses were almost belly deep and the wagon was a solid hillock now. The only opening was on the leeward side, where the wind had swirled, creating a one-foot crawl space for their use. Standing in it, Theodore hugged himself, watching John stretch and breathe deeply, lifting his face to the sky. Damn fool would have frozen fingers if he didn’t tuck his hands beneath his arms.
“Come on, John, we got to go back under. It’s too cold out here.”
“You go. I’m just gonna stay here a minute.”
“Damn it, John, you’ll freeze! Now get back under there!”
At the severe tone of the reprimand, John immediately became docile. “A... all right. But I got to be closest to the opening again, okay, Teddy?”
His childlike plea made Theodore immediately sorry he’d scolded.
“All right, but hurry. If our hands aren’t froze already, they will be soon.”
Back in their burrow, John asked, “Can you feel your fingers anymore, Teddy?”
Years Page 44