it breathing?”
“Buttermilk,” she mumbled. Or, at least she thought she mumbled. Apparently, it came out as a scream.
Joseph’s voice was in her ear, soft as clover. “I’m here Rebekah. Everything’s going to be okay. I’ll make it okay.” His voice was far away again. “Jeremiah, cake your sister in this mud. Get her cooled down. Samuel, hand me the calf.”
Woozy, Rebekah tried to make sense of what was going on around her. It appeared that Joseph’s mouth was over Buttermilk’s, but that didn’t make sense. Then, it looked like her Pa was pumping his hands on the baby calf’s middle. That didn’t make sense, either. The only thing in the world that was right in that moment was the feeling of the chilled muck on her skin.
Just before everything went black, Rebekah thought she heard Joseph’s voice in her ear again, whispering something about Buttermilk being alright after all.
“Buttermilk?” Rebekah called as she crawled through sagging timbers and shooting flames. The calf was nowhere to be found. Her eyes burned, her skin burned, even her lungs burned. An ominous snap forced her to look up just as the entire roof of the barn came crashing down in a splintery ball of fire. She opened her mouth to scream, but the scalding air and smoke filled it first.
“That was a close call.”
Rebekah tried to force her eyes to focus, but they wouldn’t comply. Her world swam around her as she tried to find Buttermilk. Gingerly, she flexed her fingers. Instead of brushing against charred and burning wood, they met the cool underside of her childhood quilt
I’m not in the barn anymore; I’m in my own bed! With that startling realization, Rebekah’s muscles relaxed and ached in unison as she stretched her arms and legs.
“You were having a nightmare, thought it best to wake you.” Joseph’s smiling voice was an audible beacon from the hellish dream that had almost been her reality.
Someone must have moved a chair into her room for him, because the only piece of furniture she possessed that was all her own, besides her bed, was her dresser. Her plain, perfect little dresser.
Rubbing her eyes, Rebekah drank in the sight of him. Things were still fuzzy around the edges, giving her entire room a dreamlike appearance. With one long leg propped up on the other, he would have looked as though he was simply enjoying a rest on the porch, had it not been for the dark shadows beneath his bloodshot eyes and deep creases in his brow. This was the stuff dreams were made of. “What happened? All I remember is --” Her words trailed off as she tried to disentangle truth from fiction.
“All I remember is mud.”
Joseph laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back, his lips spreading into a beaming grin. “There was lots of mud, there at the end. Seems you got lost in your own barn. Luckily, you were squalling so loud I was able to find you and pull you out.”
“Pull me out?”
Elnora waddled in with a tray. “He kicked down part of the barn wall to get to you.” Her words were breathy.
Joseph immediately rose from the chair and took the tray from Elnora’s trembling hands. “Here, I’ll take care of that, Mrs. Stoll.”
Grasping the end of Rebekah’s bed, Elnora struggled to stay vertical. “Thank you, Joseph. I think that did me in, I’ll be lying down if anyone needs me.” After patting Rebekah lightly on the foot, she turned and moved very slowly back toward the door.
Joseph deposited Rebekah’s tray in her lap and stepped to Elnora’s side. “Can I help you, Mrs. Stoll?”
Beads of sweat stood out against her pasty skin. Rebekah feared her mother may faint dead away any moment. “Yes, Joseph. Again, thank you.” Extending her arm, Elnora allowed Joseph to lead her out of the room.
Not bothering with manners, Rebekah dove into her food. I didn’t realize I was so hungry . The honey cornbread was sweeter than it had ever tasted before and the black coffee, which someone
“Buttermilk,” she mumbled. Or, at least she thought she mumbled. Apparently, it came out as a scream.
Joseph’s voice was in her ear, soft as clover. “I’m here Rebekah. Everything’s going to be okay. I’ll make it okay.” His voice was far away again. “Jeremiah, cake your sister in this mud. Get her cooled down. Samuel, hand me the calf.”
Woozy, Rebekah tried to make sense of what was going on around her. It appeared that Joseph’s mouth was over Buttermilk’s, but that didn’t make sense. Then, it looked like her Pa was pumping his hands on the baby calf’s middle. That didn’t make sense, either. The only thing in the world that was right in that moment was the feeling of the chilled muck on her skin.
Just before everything went black, Rebekah thought she heard Joseph’s voice in her ear again, whispering something about Buttermilk being alright after all.
“Buttermilk?” Rebekah called as she crawled through sagging timbers and shooting flames. The calf was nowhere to be found. Her eyes burned, her skin burned, even her lungs burned. An ominous snap forced her to look up just as the entire roof of the barn came crashing down in a splintery ball of fire. She opened her mouth to scream, but the scalding air and smoke filled it first.
“That was a close call.”
Rebekah tried to force her eyes to focus, but they wouldn’t comply. Her world swam around her as she tried to find Buttermilk. Gingerly, she flexed her fingers. Instead of brushing against charred and burning wood, they met the cool underside of her childhood quilt
I’m not in the barn anymore; I’m in my own bed! With that startling realization, Rebekah’s muscles relaxed and ached in unison as she stretched her arms and legs.
“You were having a nightmare, thought it best to wake you.” Joseph’s smiling voice was an audible beacon from the hellish dream that had almost been her reality.
Someone must have moved a chair into her room for him, because the only piece of furniture she possessed that was all her own, besides her bed, was her dresser. Her plain, perfect little dresser.
Rubbing her eyes, Rebekah drank in the sight of him. Things were still fuzzy around the edges, giving her entire room a dreamlike appearance. With one long leg propped up on the other, he would have looked as though he was simply enjoying a rest on the porch, had it not been for the dark shadows beneath his bloodshot eyes and deep creases in his brow. This was the stuff dreams were made of. “What happened? All I remember is --” Her words trailed off as she tried to disentangle truth from fiction.
“All I remember is mud.”
Joseph laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back, his lips spreading into a beaming grin. “There was lots of mud, there at the end. Seems you got lost in your own barn. Luckily, you were squalling so loud I was able to find you and pull you out.”
“Pull me out?”
Elnora waddled in with a tray. “He kicked down part of the barn wall to get to you.” Her words were breathy.
Joseph immediately rose from the chair and took the tray from Elnora’s trembling hands. “Here, I’ll take care of that, Mrs. Stoll.”
Grasping the end of Rebekah’s bed, Elnora struggled to stay vertical. “Thank you, Joseph. I think that did me in, I’ll be lying down if anyone needs me.” After patting Rebekah lightly on the foot, she turned and moved very slowly back toward the door.
Joseph deposited Rebekah’s tray in her lap and stepped to Elnora’s side. “Can I help you, Mrs. Stoll?”
Beads of sweat stood out against her pasty skin. Rebekah feared her mother may faint dead away any moment. “Yes, Joseph. Again, thank you.” Extending her arm, Elnora allowed Joseph to lead her out of the room.
Not bothering with manners, Rebekah dove into her food. I didn’t realize I was so hungry . The honey cornbread was sweeter than it had ever tasted before and the black coffee, which someone
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