THE WATERS

By Jo

Part Thirty-nine:

"Have you been to Pittsburgh, Letty?"

They were seated around the supper table and still learning about one another. The door to the little bedroom was open so that Captain could be seen.

"No, Hans. South Fork has been the extent of my travels, I'm afraid. Captain was going to take me to New York for our honeymoon, though, so that's where I'd be today if...."

"Ah, when Berta and I arrived from Germany, it was New York into which we sailed."

"Me? I've been to Altoona twice, Uniontown once." Sam volunteered. "Pittsburgh would be the biggest place I've ever been."  He glanced through the doorway at Captain. "It would sure change everything, wouldn't it...what he's suggested?"

"Everything is already changed, Sam, isn't it?" Letty asked. "I don't think how much it's changed has really hit me yet, either. It's too big...all of it, you know?" She looked at Erin, who'd been much quieter than usual for a while now.

"You got any idea what he means by too big, Letty?"

"Not really, Sam. Biggest house I ever saw was Mr. Morrell's. That always looked huge to me. Surely he can't mean bigger than that?"

"Morrell's. Part of it's still there. Lot gone, though, and all the greenhouses, too. That was a big house, though, wasn't it? Mighty fine place that was."

While the adults went on talking, Erin slipped quietly into the room where Captain lay. She sat on the bed beside him, staring at him, waiting for him to move. But he didn't. In fact, it began

to look to her like he wasn't even breathing. She couldn't really see his chest rising and falling like it should. Suddenly she let out a little, piercing wail and when all four adults dashed for the room, she cried, "He's dead! He's dead!"  He was, and she'd killed him.

"What is it? What's the matter?" Letty hollered.

All Erin could do was point at Captain and whimper, "Not breathing. Angels came. Not breathing."

Hans checked Captain. He was breathing, but his breaths were extremely shallow and slow. Grabbing the laudanum bottle, he read the rest of the label where it warned of that very thing. Hans felt sick. He might well have killed the young man. "We need to wake him up! He's got to wake up!" 
 

What to do? He grabbed up a bucket and ran for the springhouse where the water bubbled ice cold from the mountain. When he got back, Letty was frantically patting Captain's face. "Wake up! Wake up, darling!"  Sam was chafing Captain's hands, but he didn't move.
 

"Here," Hans said, splashing a towel into the icy water and wiping all over Captain's face and neck. Sam wet another and pressed it against Captain's wrists.

Erin stood in a corner, watching a moment then, unnoticed, slipped out, crossing the kitchen

and going outside. It was getting dark but she followed the well-worn path toward the animal pens, stopping when she found what she was looking for. George lay sprawled where she'd dropped him. She sat beside him, picking him up, looking mournfully into his button eyes as

the daylight began to wane.
 

"We did it, George, you and me. We did it. We killed Captain." She hugged the camel to her chest. "You were a bad camel but when I was bad, Papa never stopped loving me." George got

a good squeeze. "Besides, it wasn't your idea to climb on Captain, not all by yourself anyway.

I helped. You and me, George, we did it. I wish Papa...."

That was it.  She needed Papa. She needed him really, really bad.  And Grandma'am. Grandma'am would understand. But they were there in that little clearing at the edge of the mountain. She turned her head, looking that way, and could make out the area just a little. When they'd been looking for Captain this morning, they'd gone there. That must be the place
to go. They thought Captain had gone there. And Papa was there...and Grandma'am.
 

She got up, taking George with her, and walked toward the clearing. By the time she got there, it was night and for a moment she was distracted by all the moving lights way down in the valley, not sure just what they were. Maybe they were angel lights and more people were being taking home. Turning again, she stared at the dim outlines of the three mounds of fresh dirt, one really big, and two others. Someone had said Captain's people had gone home together, so that must

be theirs. She walked in between the two others.
 

"Which one is you, Papa?" She laid a little hand on the slope of the dirt to her left. "Is this you, Grandma'am?" How could she tell? She set George slightly behind herself as she knelt and began scooping handfuls of dirt, first from one side and then the other, until she had a little mound in between the two. It wasn't very big, maybe just a few inches high, but but it was

made from both mounds, then she picked up George and lay down, wrapping her arms around the small pile of dirt. She had them both now. And she started to cry. She hadn't cried since the angels had come but now she let all her grief pour out into the dirt.

"Papa!" she sobbed over and over until she couldn't even form his name because her throat

was too tight. And she saw her grandmother's face as she looked when she was sitting in bed, smiling at her, sharing her tea when it got cool enough. All she could do was hug the little mound and cry.

Sam was holding Captain in a sitting position on the bed while Hans wiped more water on him and Letty called, "Captain! Captain!" over and over.

After a few minutes, Captain began to let out some long, low moans. The nightshirt was getting wet, his hair was soaking, but no one paid any attention to that. "The laudanum, Hans?" Sam asked. "Too much?"

"I don't know...I don't KNOW! A lot seemed to come back out. I have no idea how much went down him."

"We need to get him awake enough to make him vomit, get some of it up."

"Wake UP, Captain!" everyone urged.
 

"Mmmmmmmmm," Captain moaned, blinking his eyes blearily open, looking at Hans without focusing. Hans merely splashed a wet rag in his face.

"No...no...," Captain managed. Hans splashed him again. "St...stop."

Hans peered closely in Captain's eyes. "Are you awake?"

"Mmmmm. Stop. Sleep."

"No sleep! You wake up now!"

"Go...'way. Sleep."

"NO! You must wake! Wake now!"

"Wha...what?"

Berta was ready with a glass of warm water to which she'd added table salt. She handed it to Hans, who held it to Captain's lips. "Drink!" he ordered. "You drink this!"

Captain swallowed a mouthful and made a face. "N...no. Sleep."

"You DRINK!" Hans bellowed. This went on until he'd gotten most of the salted water inside Captain. Then he grabbed the bucket and held it close as the contents of Captain's stomach

came gushing out. It smelled of laudanum and Hans relaxed just a little, knowing they'd gotten some of it up at least.
 

Sam sat behind Captain, propping him up, as they were afraid to lie him flat in case he vomited more. Hans took the bucket outside while Letty sat close with another. After a few minutes, more came up, not as much as the first, but it still had the distinct odor of laudanum about it.
When Hans made another trip outside, he got a different bucket and went to the spring house, bringing more cold water back. Very gently Letty sat there beside Captain, wiping off his face. His head would droop forward, his eyes close, but Hans would lift it up and Letty would wipe until he opened them again and made some little sound. His breathing was definitely better, but still they kept him upright, lest he choke. Just a tiny bit more came up, then he seemed to be
empty. He was definitely not really awake, though, so they kept wiping him down and talking to him.

An hour later Berta noticed Erin was nowhere to be seen. She checked around, but the little

girl was not in the house. "She's gone," she said, wringing her hands, "little Erin is not inside. I'll go...."

"No, Berta," Sam said quickly. "It's my job to find her. Here, you take my place keeping Captain sitting up and I'll go look for her."

"Why would she...?" Letty began.

"She blames herself," Sam said quietly. "You heard what she said...that the angels had come

for him." Carefully he slid off the bed, holding Captain until Berta could get in position. He touched Letty's shoulder. "Don't worry. You take care of Captain. I'll find her. I promise." With that, he was gone.

He picked up a lantern from the kitchen and stepped out onto the small porch, looking toward the barn. Would she go there? He doubted it. What would she be thinking? He quieted himself, trying to get inside her thoughts. She'd be looking for comfort, that's what. She was only five

and where would she turn but to...? He started with long strides toward the graves. As he went, it stabbed through him that she would have no where to go but there.

At first he didn't see her but as he walked along behind the graves, holding his lantern out, he found her between two of the mounds. Whatever was stabbing his heart took a sudden, sharp jerk upwards. She'd formed a small pile of dirt and was holding onto it for dear life, crying almost silently, though her little shoulders shook terribly.

"Little missy," he said, crouching just above her head, "I...I found you." Very lightly he touched her hair.

Her shaking stopped and nothing happened for a long minute, then she said, just as croakily as her voice had been in the boxcar, "S...Sam?"

"It's me, yes. I've come for you."

"Oh, Sam!" She lifted her head, holding out her arms and he gathered her up, sitting back on his rear as she wrapped them tightly around his neck. "Please take me home! Take me home, Sam!!"

"I'll take you back to Hans' in just a moment, little missy."

"No...home! I want to go home!"

"But you know the house in town is gone, right?"

"Not that home, not that that one. I want to go...home! I want Grandma'am and Papa. Please, Sam, please!"

"Oh, darlin' one...." He felt his own tears wet on his cheek.
 

"I'm so sorry," she moaned, grief-stricken. "I didn't mean, didn't mean to kill him. George and me, we didn't mean...."

"Oh, Erin. It's all right. You didn't kill him. He's going to be all right. Really he is. He just had a bit too much of the medicine, but they're fixing him up just fine. You'll see. I'll take you there and you'll see for yourself."

"Don't you understand, Sam? Don't you understand?"

"What, Erin? What are you trying to say?"

"The angels...they can come when they want. They always want Captain. In...in...the depot...."

"What do you mean in the depot?"

"He...he was just...lying there. On the bench, lying there, and I thought, I thought the angels

had taken him. Then...then...on the roof...and...and...by the flowers. And then with George. They're going to take him and I can't stop them. Like Papa and Grandma'am. They just...."

Sam tightened his arms around her in a vain effort to protect her from something he knew he couldn't. How did you tell a small child who'd been through what she had, who'd seen what she had, that the world was safe, that the ones she loved, the ones who were left, that they wouldn't die? She knew better. She had a right to know better.
 

"I wish you could really fly me to heaven, Sam," she whispered, leaning her cheek on his shoulder. "Nobody dies there, not ever."

He was silent, just holding her, letting her hold onto him, until she let out a long sigh. "I wasn't here, you know, when...when they put them in the ground. Do you know, Sam, which is which?"

"I'm sorry, Erin. I wasn't here, either."

"I didn't get to...," she paused. "Sam, would you sing for them, sing something that should be sung when people are put in the ground? I think I'd like that."

Sam looked at the mounds, outlined in the lantern's glow, then he took in a breath and sang, "Day is done, gone the sun,

From the lakes, from the hills, from the skies;

All is well, safely rest, God is nigh."

"Thank you, Sam, that was good." She hugged him around his neck tightly again. "I love you, Sam."

His face absolutely crumpled. He hadn't a relative in the world, and it was in that moment he
knew he was going to Pittsburgh. He knew this tiny girl was in his heart as surely as if he'd fathered her.

"And no matter what," she added, not lifting her face from his neck, "you'll always be my angel."

Blinking, unable to stem his welling tears, he sat there with her between the graves and thought about what he'd heard, that dying people saw loved ones coming for them. And he made her a silent promise that when the day came, when she was very, very old and it was her time, that he would come for her and hold her hand...and sing her home.  His shoulders began to shake and she held onto him more tightly still. A little while later, his voice still broken, he whispered into her hair, "I love you, Erin Flynn."

She pulled her head back, reached out a little hand and touched the path of one of his tears. "I know."

ON TO PART 40

BACK TO PART 38

BACK TO INDEX PAGE FOR THE WATERS

BACK TO LIBRISCROWE