Thunder Snow_Prequel to In the Shadow of the Cedar Page 8

  Zeke had his arms wrapped around Aunt Jenny. She wiped his face also and looked at me keenly, with Poppa’s tender brown eyes. She cupped my chin in her hand.

  “Are you okay, Jay?”

  I simply shrugged my shoulders. How could I be okay?

  She released my chin. “Your Poppa is asking for you. Are y’all ready to go in?”

  Zeke and I both nodded. Feeling as if I were outside my body, merely observing the scene, I allowed Aunt Jenny to lead me into the room, to Poppa’s bedside.

  Poppa laid very still, his eyes closed. I placed my hand on one of his. He opened his eyes and grasped my hand with surprising force. Aunt Jenny picked up Zeke and carried him to the other side of the bed. Poppa focused on Zeke.

  “Little man,” he said, in a whispered croak. “I love you.”

  Aunt Jenny leaned Zeke over so that he could kiss Poppa’s forehead. Poppa said something I couldn’t hear. He repeated it, a little louder.

  “Thundersnow.” He closed his eyes and relaxed his grip on my hand.

  He whispered another word under his breath.

  “What, Poppa?”

  He didn’t respond, and I glanced around the room. Uncle Colt leaned against the wall in one corner, and Momma sat in a chair.

  “What did he say?” I asked.

  They shook their heads.

  Poppa opened his eyes again, this time focusing on me. “Ezekiel,” he said.

  “Zeke’s right here, Poppa,” I answered.

  He shook his head, his forehead creasing. “Seventeen.”

  “Seventeen what, Poppa?” I asked, perplexed.

  “Ezekiel,” he repeated. He closed his eyes again and seemed to sleep.

  Aunt Jenny put Zeke down, and he ran and climbed in Momma’s lap. Aunt Jenny moved closer to Uncle Colt, and he draped his arm over her shoulders. I remained where I was. Alone. I had nowhere else to go, no one to go to. I clung to Poppa’s hand.

  Time passed, whether minutes or hours I didn’t know. A nurse came in and asked us to leave, everyone except Momma. I gave Poppa’s hand one last squeeze, but he didn’t respond.

  We went into the hallway, and Zeke took my hand.

  “Why did he say Ezekiel?” he asked.

  I pulled my hand from his. “I don’t know.” I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall, squeezing my eyes shut. Tears welled in my eyes.

  Aunt Jenny held her hand out for me. “Want to go with me to the restroom?”

  “The what?” Zeke asked.

  Aunt Jenny smiled through her tears. “The restroom. That’s like an outhouse, but it’s inside.”

  “Inside?” Zeke looked incredulous.

  We left Zeke with Uncle Colt. I followed Aunt Jenny down the hall to the restroom at the very end. Aunt Jenny went in first, and I stood outside and waited for her.

  I wondered who had lived in the house before it had been made into a hospital. Someone who was very rich. Or who had been very rich when they built it. The wallpaper had green and gold stripes interspersed with tan baskets filled with burgundy flowers.

  I ran my hand along one stripe, feeling the raised texture. How could anyone be rich enough to afford a house like this?

  And to waste it. Money we could have used. If we had more money, Poppa wouldn’t be . . .

  I shook my head. Poppa always said God’s ways weren’t our ways. But, it just didn’t seem right that God would punish us like this. Punish me. I hit my fist against the wall, and Aunt Jenny opened the restroom door.

  “Jay?” She searched me with anxious eyes.

  “I’m okay.” I ducked into the restroom.

  It was actually a bathroom with a clawed tub under the window and a gilded mirror hanging above the sink. I splashed water on my face and dried it with the towel hanging on an ornate hook. I looked at myself in the mirror. My face was pinched and white and my hair a mess. I wet my hands and smoothed it down.

  Aunt Jenny bumped on the door. “Hurry up, Jay.”

  I opened the door, and she grabbed me by the arm and propelled me down the hall to Poppa’s room. Uncle Colt met us.

  “Colt?”

  Uncle Colt shook his head, his eyes deep with sorrow. Aunt Jenny released my arm.

  Uncle Colt turned to me. “The doctor’s in with him now.”

  “Where’s Zeke?” I asked, fear clutching my throat.

  Uncle Colt nodded toward the door. “Your momma took him inside.”

  I touched the doorknob, but Uncle Colt shook his head.

  “They won’t let anyone else in.”

  I leaned back against the wall just as the door opened. Two nurses and a doctor came out. The nurses continued down the hallway, but the doctor paused. His stethoscope hung around his neck, and he pulled it off and stuffed it in his pocket.

  “Are you his family?” he asked Aunt Jenny.

  Aunt Jenny nodded toward me. “That’s his daughter, and I’m his sister.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “He’s gone.”

  Aunt Jenny collapsed against his chest, gently pounding him with her fist.

  A wave of nausea crashed over me. I bolted down the hall to the bathroom, barely making it to the commode before I vomited. Afterwards, I washed my face, barely aware of what I was doing. When I came out, both Aunt Jenny and Uncle Colt waited for me. Uncle Colt embraced me, and Aunt Jenny encircled both of us with her arms.

  I leaned into Uncle Colt, breathing heavily but not crying.

  “Where’s Momma?” I asked, mumbling into his chest.

  “She’s downstairs. I believe she went outside with Zeke.” He pulled back and looked at me. “Do you want to see your poppa?”

  I bit my lip. “It’s not Poppa. Poppa’s gone.”

  Uncle Colt shot a sideways glance at Aunt Jenny and cleared his throat but didn’t speak.

  Aunt Jenny stroked my hair. “We’re going in to see him . . . his body. Do you want to go with us?”

  I hesitated before nodding my head. My legs quivered under me like jelly. I hovered at the doorway while Aunt Jenny went in. Uncle Colt stood behind me and urged me forward.

  I stumbled in. Aunt Jenny caught me around the waist, and we approached Poppa’s deathbed together. His face was peaceful, completely unlined. Aunt Jenny leaned forward and kissed his forehead and whispered a goodbye. I simply touched his arm before spinning around and rushing out.

  I leaned against the wall of the hallway and waited. A few minutes later, Aunt Jenny and Uncle Colt came out. We stood quietly a moment, no one speaking.

  Uncle Colt cleared his throat. “We’d best find Molly.”

  I turned my head to look at the door to the room where Poppa’s body laid, the image burning in my mind.

  And then I followed Aunt Jenny and Uncle Colt down the hall.

  A LONE GAS LAMP HANGING next to the doors lit the front porch. Momma sat in a rocker, Zeke in her lap asleep, his arms draped around her neck.

  “Will you take Sarah Jane and Ezekiel James home, Colt?” Momma asked.

  “Why? Aren’t you coming home, Momma?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “I’ve got to stay here and make the arrangements. I’ll order a headstone in the morning.”

  Uncle Colt picked Zeke up. “We can stay here and help you,” he said.

  She shook her head. “I’ll be all right. Our livestock’s going to need tending to. Can you do that for me?”

  “Of course. You know I will, Molly.”

  “I’ll stay with you,” Aunt Jenny said. “You don’t need to be alone.”

  “I can manage. The hospital’s found me a room for the night, and Doctor Burch is coming back tomorrow. I can catch a ride home with him.”

  “I don’t mind staying with you, Molly.” Aunt Jenny wrung her hands together, searching Momma’s face.

  “I would appreciate it if you would look after my kids for me.” Momma pressed her lips together.

  Aunt Jenny sighed and glanced at me and at Zeke, still asleep in Uncle Colt’s arms. “You can depend
on us. You know that, Molly.” She patted her shoulder.

  Momma gave a curt nod. “It’s getting late.” She didn’t rise from the chair.

  “Okay. We best be going then.” Aunt Jenny leaned over and gave Momma a stiff hug.

  I followed suit. Uncle Colt gave her arm a pat, and we walked down the steps to the wagon. Clouds obscured the moon, and the night was pitch black.

  As dark as the inside of a bag of black cats, as Poppa would say.

  Uncle Colt laid Zeke in the back and then helped me in.

  “Do you think we should leave Molly like this?” Aunt Jenny asked Uncle Colt.

  “What else can we do?”

  His voice sounded gruff, with grief or anger, I didn’t know. “She seems like she’s doing okay.”

  The sound of the reins slapping against the mules carried to me. Aunt Jenny sighed deeply.

  The wagon creaked as we drove out of town.

  Chapter 19—The Seeking

  Zeke and I spent what was left of the night with Aunt Jenny and Uncle Colt. Laurie and William were still at their neighbor’s house, so I had Laurie’s bed all to myself. Her bed had been stuffed with down and was so much softer than my own.

  Yet, its comfort did not help me to sleep. I tossed and turned, an emptiness settling deep within me. Still, no tears came. It just didn’t seem real Poppa was gone.

  I sat up and punched Laurie’s pillow. When I settled back down, I closed my eyes and tried not to think of anything. But thoughts kept chasing themselves around in my head.

  Why did Poppa say Ezekiel? Was he telling me to take care of him? I rolled my head back and forth. But then he had said “seventeen.” And, what else? Thundersnow? I rolled my head again.

  Poppa was gone. No, he couldn’t be gone. I would sleep, and, in the morning, he would be there, smiling at me with the twinkle in his eyes. My head throbbed, and I rubbed my temples. I continued tossing and turning, getting up twice to make a trip to the outhouse.

  Sunlight peeked through Laurie’s window before I slept.

  WHEN I AWOKE, I DIDN’T remember where I was for a moment. When I realized, a shock ran through me, and I shuddered. The house was silent but full of light. Was everyone still asleep?

  I changed out of Aunt Jenny’s gown and back into the clothes I had been wearing the day before. Laurie’s room opened straight into the kitchen.

  When I opened the door, Laurie and Aunt Jenny sat at the kitchen table, not speaking. Aunt Jenny jumped up and came to me.

  “Are you hungry, sweetie?” Her red-rimmed eyes stared into mine.

  They were so much like Poppa’s that I had to look away. “No, I’m not hungry.” I dropped into a chair by Laurie. “Where’s Zeke? Still asleep?”

  “No.” Aunt Jenny looked down at her hands, and her cheeks flushed. “Your momma stopped by and picked him up.” She slid back into her chair. “She didn’t want to wake you.”

  I shrugged. Who cared? Why would I want to go back home anyway? I didn’t know what to do with myself.

  I stared at the kitchen walls, avoiding the searching eyes of Laurie and Aunt Jenny. I got up and walked around the table. “Where’s Uncle Colt?”

  “He’s over at your house, tending to things.” Her fingers drummed on the table.

  “Okay.” I sat back down.

  Aunt Jenny reached across the table, and I allowed her to take my hand.

  She closed her hand around mine. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

  Tears burned my eyes, and I rose abruptly. “I’ll be back later,” I mumbled.

  Chairs scraped across the floor behind me, but I didn’t look back.

  I hurried out and jumped down the porch steps. I paid no heed to where I was heading.

  I glanced at our house when I passed but kept going.

  I didn’t fully realize where I was at until I saw the path winding up the slope by the trees. Cedar Spring.

  Scrambling up the bank, I entered into the coolness of the trees. The trees had all leafed out, and a canopy of bright green from the oaks, sycamores, and hickory nut trees shaded the path.

  I took my time rambling down it, breathing in the sweet smell of honeysuckle. I entered the clearing.

  The spring bubbled from the ground. Somehow, I hadn’t expected to see it still splashing away. I brushed off a rock but didn’t sit down.

  The smoke from Poppa’s pipe—did I actually smell it? Almost smell him, a mingling of tobacco, lye soap, and sweat? I tilted my head back and looked up into the boughs of the cedar, thinking of the story Poppa had told of the spirits within.

  Laurie emerged into the clearing. She didn’t say anything, just came and stood beside me. I moved closer to the cedar and slumped to the ground. Laurie plopped down beside me.

  The sky was a brilliant blue. Birds sang, and squirrels scampered up the trees. The water gurgled from the ground.

  I drew up my legs and laid my head on my knees.

  “Don’t cry, Jay,” Laurie said.

  I straightened and looked at her. “I’m not crying. But what’s wrong with crying? Why shouldn’t I cry?”

  Laurie drew back away from me as if I were a snake about to strike. “Nothing. Cry if you want to. Just ain’t never seen you cry before.”

  I smiled weakly. “I’ve cried, Laurie. Plenty of times. It just won’t change anything.”

  I broke a limb off the cedar tree and bent it back and forth, releasing the scent. I brought it to my nose and inhaled deeply. “Poppa said something before he died.”

  “What’d he say?” Laurie had imitated me and broken off another limb. She too sniffed the fragrance.

  “He said ‘thundersnow.’”

  “Thundersnow?”

  “Yeah.” Tears welled in my eyes. “He also said Ezekiel and seventeen.”

  “Do you think he was trying to tell you something about Zeke?” Her eyes clouded with concentration.

  A lone tear ran down my cheek, and I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know why he would say Zeke. I mean Ezekiel.”

  Laurie’s eyes cleared, and she reached over to rub my arm. “Sarah Jane, he loved you so much. He strutted like a banty rooster when you won the spelling bee.”

  I nodded my head, smiling at the memory.

  Laurie leaned back against the cedar tree and scratched her head, releasing some hair from her pigtails. “Thundersnow. I wonder why he was thinking that.”

  “Maybe he was trying to think of something to take his mind off his pain. The thundersnow was beautiful.” Fatigue washed over me, and I rested my head on my knees.

  “The next day the snow was beautiful but wasn’t nothing beautiful about the thunder and lightning.” Laurie shook her head.

  “Yeah, Zeke and I were scared of all the thunder and lightning and the way the wind whipped around the house.” I fell silent and thought about how we had eaten popcorn. Momma had been nice that night.

  “Yep, but you gotta go through the storm to get to the beauty. Leastwise, that’s what my momma always says. Trust God to get you through the storms is what she says.” Laurie broke off another sprig from the cedar tree. “Ezekiel. Seventeen. Wonder what he meant.”

  I sat up so quickly I felt dizzy. “Ezekiel, chapter seventeen. Surely that’s what he meant.”

  “But why?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he wrote something in his Bible. Come on.” I stood up and brushed myself off.

  “Where’re we going?” Laurie said, rising to her feet.

  “We’re going to find Poppa’s Bible.”

  Laurie cleared her throat.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She looked down and kicked at the dirt. “Your momma was acting strange when she got Zeke this morning.”

  “Strange how?”

  Laurie shrugged. “Just peculiar.”

  “You don’t want to go with me?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to go, but I’ll go if you want me to.” She kicked softly at a rock, her gaze fastened on the ground.
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  “That’s okay. I can go by myself.”

  Laurie sighed with relief. “I’ll just stay here for a spell.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you later.” I hurried down the path and onto the road.

  I walked quickly and stood before the gate in just a matter of minutes.

  Excitement coursed through me. What if Poppa had written something for me in his Bible? It would be almost like hearing his voice. I walked into the yard toward the house but paused before climbing the front steps.

  I sniffed the air. Something was burning. I walked to the corner. Smoke billowed from behind the house.

  My heart caught in my throat. Was the house on fire?

  I ran toward the source of the smoke and exhaled sharply when I saw the scene before me.

  A fire burned in the pit where we cooked cracklings.

  Momma rested on a hoe, and Zeke sat on the back porch, his legs dangling off the side. I walked to where Momma stood, and she shifted her gaze to me for a second before staring back at the fire.

  What could she be burning and why was she burning it on this, the day after Poppa died, of all days? I followed her line of sight and gasped.

  Chapter 20—The Burning

  Poppa’s clothes and other possessions, his pipe lying on top, were burning.

  “Momma! What are you doing?”

  “Your poppa’s gone. We don’t need this stuff anymore.” She spoke calmly without emotion.

  “Momma, give me the hoe.”

  As I reached for it, she tightened her grip. I gritted my teeth and wrenched it from her.

  Momma clawed at me, but I ignored her. Sparks rained down on us as I beat the fire with the hoe.

  Momma redoubled her efforts, scratching at my arms. I pushed her out of my way, and she sprawled back into the dirt.

  Zeke cried out, and I glanced at him. He slumped forward, sniffling, and a pain pierced my heart.

  I longed to comfort him, but I knew I had to get Poppa’s things out of the pit. As I dragged each item forward, I pounded the remaining flames. Sparks bounced around.

  Momma still lay on the ground where she had fallen, and I wondered briefly if I had hurt her. I glanced at her but I was too out of breath to speak.