home. We’ll take care of those people.”
“No, sir.” I shook my head hard. “I made a promise.”
The man with the dirty rag mopped sweat from his neck. “We already told you boys,” he said quietly, “we ain’t got no saws.”
The rest of the men shifted uneasylike, avoiding my eyes.
“We’re doing all we can, son,” the bearded man said.
I stared past them to the wagon, to the pile of bodies, the muddied arms and legs, already stiff under the hot sun, and just stood there till Josiah backed away, his head bobbing.
“Thank you, sir,” he said to them. “Mister Seth here sure do ’preciates all you is doing.”
They nodded, and Josiah pulled me away.
“The man be right,” he whispered. “We needs to get home.”
“I can’t, Josiah. I promised her.”
“Yessir, I knows that, but the girl, she already sees how things really is.”
I stood there while the hot sun beat down on us, breathing in the terrible odor of mud and death, and squinted up at him.
“My mama tole me right ’fore she died last winterthat angels whispered to her and showed her heaven’s own gate. She
knew
she be crossing over real soon.”
I peered toward the ridge, trying to make sense of what he was saying. It was true the girl hadn’t asked for help. She’d asked only that we remember her name.
The shard of mirror caught the sun, and I flinched from the glare.
“So she knew?” I whispered.
Josiah nodded, and the heavy truth of it slowed my heart till I thought I might die right there with her.
Josiah waited, but I knew I couldn’t go home. Not yet.
“I can’t leave her,” I said.
Sweat trickled down his forehead, and he wiped it away with the back of his sleeve. “I knows,” he said, squinting against the sun.
I headed back to the ridge, and without a word, Josiah followed. We began the slow climb, but this time I heard no voices. Not one. I reached the broken mirror and kneeled over the opening. “Sarah Louise!” I shouted. “We’re back, like we promised.”
Josiah kneeled beside me, listening.
“Sarah,” I called again. “Sarah Louise Ellison!”
Wind whistled over the ridge.
I glanced at Josiah, afraid to even breathe, and he hung his head.
Leaning close over the opening, I called again.
And again.
Chapter
16
I sat on the ground, staring up at the broken mirror, not remembering the climb down at all. Josiah let me be for a short while, then pulled me to my feet and led me stumbling toward home. Hot wind gusted around my ears, billowed scattered clothing, blew muddied photographs and bits of paper rattling past my feet, but I hardly noticed. My head was still full of the sound of Sarah Louise’s name. I didn’t know what color her hair was, if her eyes were blue, or brown, or green, but I knew I’d carry her voice with me the rest of my days.
Debris-filled pools dotted streets, even though the gulf had retreated, and a thick layer of foul-smelling slime coated everything. Horses and cattle strayed into yards and wandered up to everyone they encountered, eager to find their owners. I didn’t see a blade of grass for them, but I was soon searching for it, just as they must have, longing for a glimpse of green, just one wisp of something fresh in the air.
We passed two dead boys in an alley, twins about five years old, still holding on to each other. I stared at their small bodies, not willing to leave them, hoping my own family wasn’t lying like this somewhere, too. Josiah found a busted shovel nearby and offered to help me bury them.
It was what I wanted, and what I would’ve wanted someone to do for those I loved as well, but I shook my head. “How will their mother ever know what happened if we bury them?”
Josiah started digging. “She ain’t alive or she woulda already been ’round.”
I blinked and stood aside.
While Josiah dug a shallow grave and buried them, I scratched the words, “Twin boys, age 5,” on a board and drove it into the ground with the back of
“No, sir.” I shook my head hard. “I made a promise.”
The man with the dirty rag mopped sweat from his neck. “We already told you boys,” he said quietly, “we ain’t got no saws.”
The rest of the men shifted uneasylike, avoiding my eyes.
“We’re doing all we can, son,” the bearded man said.
I stared past them to the wagon, to the pile of bodies, the muddied arms and legs, already stiff under the hot sun, and just stood there till Josiah backed away, his head bobbing.
“Thank you, sir,” he said to them. “Mister Seth here sure do ’preciates all you is doing.”
They nodded, and Josiah pulled me away.
“The man be right,” he whispered. “We needs to get home.”
“I can’t, Josiah. I promised her.”
“Yessir, I knows that, but the girl, she already sees how things really is.”
I stood there while the hot sun beat down on us, breathing in the terrible odor of mud and death, and squinted up at him.
“My mama tole me right ’fore she died last winterthat angels whispered to her and showed her heaven’s own gate. She
knew
she be crossing over real soon.”
I peered toward the ridge, trying to make sense of what he was saying. It was true the girl hadn’t asked for help. She’d asked only that we remember her name.
The shard of mirror caught the sun, and I flinched from the glare.
“So she knew?” I whispered.
Josiah nodded, and the heavy truth of it slowed my heart till I thought I might die right there with her.
Josiah waited, but I knew I couldn’t go home. Not yet.
“I can’t leave her,” I said.
Sweat trickled down his forehead, and he wiped it away with the back of his sleeve. “I knows,” he said, squinting against the sun.
I headed back to the ridge, and without a word, Josiah followed. We began the slow climb, but this time I heard no voices. Not one. I reached the broken mirror and kneeled over the opening. “Sarah Louise!” I shouted. “We’re back, like we promised.”
Josiah kneeled beside me, listening.
“Sarah,” I called again. “Sarah Louise Ellison!”
Wind whistled over the ridge.
I glanced at Josiah, afraid to even breathe, and he hung his head.
Leaning close over the opening, I called again.
And again.
Chapter
16
I sat on the ground, staring up at the broken mirror, not remembering the climb down at all. Josiah let me be for a short while, then pulled me to my feet and led me stumbling toward home. Hot wind gusted around my ears, billowed scattered clothing, blew muddied photographs and bits of paper rattling past my feet, but I hardly noticed. My head was still full of the sound of Sarah Louise’s name. I didn’t know what color her hair was, if her eyes were blue, or brown, or green, but I knew I’d carry her voice with me the rest of my days.
Debris-filled pools dotted streets, even though the gulf had retreated, and a thick layer of foul-smelling slime coated everything. Horses and cattle strayed into yards and wandered up to everyone they encountered, eager to find their owners. I didn’t see a blade of grass for them, but I was soon searching for it, just as they must have, longing for a glimpse of green, just one wisp of something fresh in the air.
We passed two dead boys in an alley, twins about five years old, still holding on to each other. I stared at their small bodies, not willing to leave them, hoping my own family wasn’t lying like this somewhere, too. Josiah found a busted shovel nearby and offered to help me bury them.
It was what I wanted, and what I would’ve wanted someone to do for those I loved as well, but I shook my head. “How will their mother ever know what happened if we bury them?”
Josiah started digging. “She ain’t alive or she woulda already been ’round.”
I blinked and stood aside.
While Josiah dug a shallow grave and buried them, I scratched the words, “Twin boys, age 5,” on a board and drove it into the ground with the back of
Similar Books
