The Edge of Nowhere

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The Edge of Nowhere Page 15

by C. H. Armstrong


  “I couldn’t,” I said. I couldn’t because I didn’t know how to tell them. I couldn’t because I didn’t want them to know. I couldn’t because telling them made the loss more real. So many reasons why I couldn’t.

  Father Caleb released me and Mother Elizabeth pulled me into her arms. She cried openly. “You’ve had so much loss in such a short time. Ya should’ve sent word. We could’ve been here for ya.”

  “There’s nothing ya could’ve done.” I pulled away from her embrace. “Come in for some coffee?”

  Mother Elizabeth took my arm, while Father Caleb followed behind. Seating them at the table, I turned to make the coffee I had promised.

  “Where are the children?” Father Caleb asked.

  “Catherine, Grace, and Jack are at school,” I said with my back to them. “Ethan and Sara are sleepin’. It’s nap time.”

  “I forget they have school,” he said. “It’s been so long since we had little ones in the house.”

  “For how much longer, I’m not sure.” Returning to the table, I set down three cups and pulled out my chair to sit. “Things are gettin’ harder here, and I’m gonna need the three older ones to help the twins out in the field. I’m tryin’ to keep ’em in school as long as I can, but I’m not sure how much longer this can go on. We’re gonna need all available hands here soon if we’re gonna be able to eat.”

  “Is it that bad?” Mother Elizabeth asked.

  “Worse,” I answered. “Will had some money set aside before he died, but I had to use most of it for Dr. Heusman, and then for Will’s funeral. And then … then there the baby’s burial.”

  Father Caleb shook his head. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Me too. We’re just barely scrapin’ by until harvest season. The twins are hopin’ for a bumper crop to pay off the bank.”

  “Will owed money to the bank?” Father Caleb asked.

  I nodded. “Remember that equipment he bought a couple years back? He needed it to plow up another of the fields that wasn’t bein’ used. He was hopin’ the extra wheat would bring in more income, but then we didn’t get much rain. All but a little bit of the crops dried up. He took what he could to sell, but we didn’t get nearly what it was worth, and we were lucky to come out on top. Not much on top, but more than some.”

  “How’re ya managin’ to get by?” he asked.

  “Day by day.” I shrugged. “The twins have been a godsend. They bring us a few jackrabbits when they can. They said the rabbits have gone plum nuts, and they’re all over the place right now. So that’s helped put a little meat on the table. We’ve still got that last sow, but I’m savin’ her for an emergency; then we have the cow, but we need her for milk. We’ve butchered all but the rooster and two chickens. But even they’re eatin’ more than they’re givin’ off in eggs, so they’ll probably have to be the next to go. We’ve got a herd of young cattle out grazin’ the front forty, but the twins are hopin’ to sell those off this summer to make up whatever comes up short from the harvest. If it’s a good one, we can keep the profits from the sale of the cattle, and we’ll be in much better shape.”

  “And what about cash on hand? How much do y’all still have?” he asked.

  “Not much. Some loose change, mostly. Last week Sara got into the can I’ve been using to save what we do have, and she swallowed two dimes. Damn that child!” I shook my head, remembering. “Catherine and I set her on a bucket every time she needed to use the toilet ’til she finally gave up those dimes.”

  “For two dimes?” Mother Elizabeth gasped. “How long did it take?”

  “Two days.”

  “Victoria, I just don’t know what to say!” she said. “Why didn’t ya tell us?”

  “I didn’t want y’all to know. What good would it’ve done? Y’all two are doin’ okay, but I know ya don’t have any extra; and I know you’d go hungry just to make sure we didn’t. I didn’t want that. I still don’t. I’m just tellin’ y’all ’cause ya asked, and you’ve been too good to me to lie to ya.”

  “What can we do?” Father Caleb asked.

  “Nothin’. I can’t think of anything that’d make this better, save havin’ Will back or God droppin’ money from the sky. Not likely either’s gonna happen, so we just keep on keepin’ on.”

  “I know it’s soon, but have ya thought about remarryin’?” Mother Elizabeth said.

  I shook my head. “I don’t wanna remarry. I didn’t wanna marry the first time. You know that.”

  “I know, but times’re hard. If ya had a man around here to handle the farm and do more of the hard labor, it might help,” she said. “It’s not really about what ya want; it’s about keepin’ the kids fed and clothed, and a roof over their heads. Just think about it.”

  I didn’t respond. She’d planted a seed in my brain, but I wasn’t ready to acknowledge that it might be the answer to our problems. I hated the thought of remarrying. But I also knew I’d do anything to survive.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  MARCH PASSED, AND APRIL ARRIVED. WITH the change of seasons came spring, but she’d forgotten to bring the proverbial April showers. We’d made it through winter, but just barely. The chickens and rooster were now gone; and we’d eaten every piece of meat off the bones then used the carcass to make soup. We butchered the sow only the week before, and that meat would last us awhile if we were careful. We still had Will’s dogs to look after, but we’d stopped feeding them. They’d have to find their own food wherever they could. The only reason we still fed the cow was because she gave us milk. Otherwise, we would’ve left her to her own resources as well. Harvest was coming soon, and I hoped it would bring us some financial solvency.

  I loved April. The cold of winter was over, yet the summer season hadn’t quite set in. On a warm afternoon, just as I’d finished milking the cow, I heard the children screaming and the dogs barking wildly some distance away. I couldn’t imagine what those children were up to now. Tired and sweaty, I wasn’t in the mood to settle another dispute.

  I stepped out of the barn, prepared to scold them for their incessant squabbling, when I was stopped dead in my tracks by the sight before me. Racing toward me, with Sara cradled tightly in his arms, was a man I’d never seen before. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with black hair. Catherine met his strides and, close on her heels were Grace, Jack, and Ethan—all screaming as though Satan was chasing them. I met their distance and took Sara from the man’s arms, then raced back toward the house to set her down.

  “What happened?” I called over my shoulder.

  “Cottonmouths! A nest of ’em down by the creek!” he replied.

  We reached the front door, and the stranger yanked it open for me. I ran straight for my bed and placed her on the quilts.

  “Show me. Where’s she bitten?”

  Lifting Sarah’s skirts, Catherine pointed out several pairs of holes on her sister’s upper thigh.

  “Mama,” Sara cried, her eyes fluttering open and closed. “It hurts.”

  “Oh, baby,” I said, cradling her upper body in mine. “I know, sweetheart. Shhh …”

  “How many?” I asked Catherine.

  “I don’t know. I think she stepped in a nest. She was just standin’ near the edge of the creek and started screamin’. I saw a flurry of snakes, but I didn’t see how many! Three? Four, maybe? Mr. Snyder just snatched her up and started runnin’.”

  “Are ya bit?” I asked, turning to the stranger.

  “No, ma’am. I’m fine,” he said.

  Sara’s breathing was short and raspy, and there wasn’t a damned thing I could do. I knew she couldn’t survive this. A grown man might survive a single bite from a young snake, but Sara was only two and had taken three bites I could see. Once again, I was completely powerless.

  The stranger stood awkwardly near the door, not knowing what he should do. I nodded at him. “Thanks for your help. We’re good now. You can go on your way.”

  “Ma’am.” The stranger nodded then turned to leave.

/>   “Catherine, take the little ones into the other room and start dinner. They don’t need to see this.”

  Catherine herded Grace and Jack out of the room. When they were gone, I scooped Sara’s tiny body into my arms and carried her to the rocking chair. Cradling my baby close to my heart, I sat and rocked slowly back and forth.

  My brain stopped working. I couldn’t think beyond the next second. The only thing I knew was there was nothing I could do. My sweet Sara wouldn’t live to see her next birthday.

  Creak-creak-creak-creak.

  The sound of my own chair reminded me of my mother’s grief so many years before.

  Sara didn’t move or utter another word. If not for the shallow rise and fall of her chest, I might’ve thought she was already gone.

  “It’s okay, baby,” I said, smoothing her hair away from her face. “Mama’s got ya. Just go to sleep, and everything’ll be okay.”

  Still Sara didn’t move, nor open her eyes to acknowledge my words. I watched and waited, but didn’t have to wait long. Within moments, she slipped quietly into death.

  Unwilling to let her go just yet, I continued rocking back and forth. Time moved slowly. I gazed down into the peaceful face of my beautiful girl and remembered the first time I’d looked upon her. She was gone; returned to Will for safekeeping. Now he’d watch over her.

  I don’t know if it was five minutes or five hours; but, after some time, Catherine came in and sat down on the bed across from me.

  “She’s gone?” she asked, chocking back a sob.

  I nodded. My throat had closed over my own sob, and I wasn’t able to form words just yet. So I rocked back and forth, holding my baby. After some time, I took a deep breath and asked what I needed to know. “Tell me what happened.”

  “I’m not sure,” she whispered. “I took the little ones down to the creek to fish. That man—Mr. Snyder—he was down there fishin’, too. The boys were splashin’ around in the shallow water, but Sara was just standin’ by the edge of the water. Ya know how she’s afraid of water, so she just stood there, watchin’. I turned my back for a quick second, and she started screamin’. I thought one of the boy’s was teasin’ her or somethin’, but I caught a quick look at them snakes splashing in the water just before they disappeared. Cottonmouths! I don’t know how many, but a bunch of ’em! I was so scared, I froze. When I finally rushed to grab her outta the water, Mr. Snyder was already there. He shouted at me, askin’ which way to the house, and I just pointed and we ran.”

  Catherine was fully sobbing now, but I had my arms full of Sara, and I wasn’t ready to let go. “It’s okay,” I said.

  “It’s all my fault!” Catherine sobbed. “I took ’em to the creek. I should’ve been standin’ right next to her! I should’ve done something!”

  “There wasn’t anything ya could’ve done.”

  Catherine’s sobs echoed those in my heart. We sat for several more moments before I remembered I had three more children unaccounted for.

  “Where are the other children?” I asked.

  “I fed ’em and Mr. Snyder, then put ’em to bed. There wasn’t much in there. Just some bread, butter, and some left over ham from the sow. I figured that’d be enough.”

  “That was fine.” I nodded. “Where’s Mr. Snyder now?”

  “Outside. He’s just passin’ through, lookin’ for work. I said he could bed down in the barn for tonight, if he wanted, since he helped so much with Sara.”

  “That’s fine. But he’ll need to be gone first thing tomorrow morning. I don’t have enough to feed all y’all as it is. I can’t take another.”

  “I know. I told him.”

  Catherine and I sat in silence, each consumed in our own thoughts. After some time, she asked, “So what d’we do now?”

  “We’re gonna need to bury Sara. Can ya take the truck and go get Joseph and Daniel? We’re gonna need ’em to dig us a hole, maybe out under that big tree in the back part of the house.”

  “We’re not gonna bury her in town with Daddy?”

  “We don’t have any money, Catherine. We’re just gonna have to do the best we can with what we have, and right now we have nothin’.”

  “Can we do that?”

  “Doesn’t matter. We don’t have any other choice. I’d like to get it done tonight. I don’t want Gracie, Jack and Ethan seein’ her. Not like this. It’s bad enough to bury their daddy and a baby they didn’t know. They don’t need to see us bury Sara, too.”

  “Are ya sure that’s the right thing to do?”

  “Ah hell, Catherine! I don’t know what’s right or wrong anymore! Right now I’m just doin’ my best to stay afloat and tread water. Now, will ya please go get the boys, or am I gonna have to do it?”

  “I’ll go.”

  DANIEL AND JOSEPH arrived together, about forty minutes later, and found me still sitting in the rocking chair with Sara in my arms.

  Daniel fell to his knees and choked back a sob. “Oh, God! Not Sara!”

  I couldn’t speak. It was hard enough dealing with my own pain and Catherine’s; I couldn’t stand to see the boys cry, too. I used every ounce of my energy holding back the tears. I wouldn’t cry. The boys needed me strong. For the first time, I knew exactly how my own mama felt when my baby brother died. The pain in my heart was physical—like a knife cut straight through to my soul. I wanted nothing more than to lie down and go to sleep. I wanted to give my worries to someone else, and just disappear inside my head as my mama had done. But I wouldn’t. I knew what that did to a child, and I wouldn’t do that to my own children. So I held onto my sanity by the tips of my fingers.

  “We’re so sorry,” Joseph said, kneeling in front of me. He smoothed Sara’s soft cheek and pushed her baby-fine hair behind her ear. “What d’ya want us to do?”

  “I need y’all two to dig a hole in the backyard, maybe out underneath that big tree. That man—Mr. Snyder, the one that carried her in?—Catherine says he’s bunkin’ out in the barn. See if he can help ya.”

  “We’re not gonna take her to town for burial?” Daniel asked.

  Losing my patience, I snapped. “Ya know as well as I that I don’t have money for that! What’m I supposed to do?”

  Daniel placed his hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently. “No, you’re right. I wasn’t thinkin’.” Turning to Joseph, he said, “C’mon. Let’s get it done.”

  The boys—now grown men—left me alone with Sara’s tiny body still in my arms. For the next two hours, I rocked back and forth in that rocking chair, praying this was all some awful dream.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  I didn’t sleep at all that night; I’m sure none of us did. Watching the sunrise out my window, I pulled myself out of bed. We’d stayed up late burying Sara under the old apple tree in the back yard. The full moon had shined down on us, providing light, as we each said a few words about Sara. Mr. Snyder joined us. He hadn’t known her, and we didn’t know him, but he’d helped us when we needed him, and we were thankful.

  I cringed as my feet touched the cold, wood floor. I had business to attend, and I wanted to get it done before the children awoke.

  Digging through the dresser, I pulled out one of Will’s old shirts and a pair of overalls. I slipped them on, one leg at a time, accommodating for the length by rolling the cuffs over a few times. Though clean, they still smelled like Will—woodsy, like the outdoors. I took a deep breath and again wished he were here.

  In the back of the closet was Will’s old hunting rifle. I’d used it a few times, but I’d hidden it in the closet to keep it away from the babies. Checking for bullets, and finding an adequate supply, I tiptoed out of the house and walked down to the creek with the rifle clutched tightly in my hands.

  I’m not sure what I expected, but I’d hoped to find that cottonmouth nest. I’d planned to blow those slimy beasts to tiny pieces. Instead I found nothing but the creek and grass. Still, I stood on the edge of the bank waiting.

  I’d just shot the second snake in t
hree hours when Mr. Snyder joined me, his presence startling me.

  “Did ya get any?” he asked.

  “Just two.”

  “How many more are ya plannin’ to get?”

  “I don’t know. As many as I can, I guess.”

  “Ya know,” Mr. Snyder said, carefully choosing his words. “I know a little bit about what you’re goin’ through.”

  Really? He couldn’t be a day older than twenty, yet he stood there saying he knew what I was going through. Anger overtook me, and I wanted to punch him. How dare he suggest he knew what I was going through!

  “Ya ever lost a child, Mr. Snyder?” I asked, attempting to control the venom in my voice.

  He paused before replying. “No, can’t say as I’ve ever lost a child, but—”

  “Then how can you possibly claim to know how I’m feelin’ right now?”

  “I lost my best friend to a rattlesnake bite some years back. I’d say that’s pretty close. We was kids together—more like brothers than best friends. There wasn’t a thing I could do. Before I knew it, he was gone.”

  “Just like my Sara,” I whispered.

  He nodded. “Just like your Sara.”

  Mr. Snyder gently took the rifle from my hands. “C’mon. Your little ones are worried about ya, and they’ve been askin’ questions about the baby. That older girl of yours has her hands full, and she’s not sure how to handle their questions. She needs ya. They all do.”

  Mr. Snyder was right. I could stand there all day shooting at cottonmouths, but what good would it do? I’d likely never find the ones that killed my Sara. My children needed me, and it was time to start behaving like their mother.

  THE DAYS FOLLOWING Sara’s death were hard. Will’s passing had been difficult on all of us, but the loss of Sara took our grief to a new dimension. To the children, Sara had been not only their baby sister, but their playmate; and Catherine and Grace had been like surrogate mothers to her. To me, Sara was my baby—the last of Will’s children. The last of Will.

  Catherine took Sara’s death the hardest. She had trouble forgiving herself, insisting she could’ve done something or should’ve been paying better attention. She was inconsolable.

 

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