Home Is Beyond the Mountains by Celia Lottridge Page B

decided
to sew a pocket on each side so that the little boy who wore them could keep
his hands warm, too.
    Benyamin and Ashur had been
given the task of weighing each load of wood, charcoal and wheat brought to
the orphanage on mules. The mule drivers unloaded the bundles or bags and
the boys weighed them in a big scale that dangled from a post in the yard.
    Miss Shedd was there to
record the weight of every load so she could pay the men exactly the right
amount. Some of them argued with her, wanting more money, but she never gave
in. She pointed to the figures she had written down. The men stared at the
numbers. None of them could read, but they shook their heads and argued some
more. Then she told them that the orphanage could only deal with honest
suppliers. If they wanted more business they should take their payment and
go.
    â€œShe never shouts but she
never backs down,” Benyamin told Samira. “And she’s a woman. The men are
very surprised.” He shook his head. Samira thought he was surprised,
too.
    The boys stacked the wood
and charcoal and covered the stacks with canvas. They carried sacks of wheat
into the schoolroom and piled them between the sewing and the shoemaking.
Then they put big trays on the floor and emptied grain onto each one. Eight
women came to clean the grain and each had one of the younger children
working next to her. They had quick fingers and sharp eyes, Miss Shedd said.
    Their job was to look
through the grain and pick out pebbles and chunks of mud. Once in a while
one of the children forgot and tossed a pebble at another child, only to
have his hand slapped by the woman beside him.
    When the grain was clean,
the boys poured it back into the sacks and took it to the storage building,
where it stayed until it was taken to the mill to be ground into
flour.
    One afternoon after Samira
had been sewing for several hours, Hanna said, “You’ve done enough for
today. I brought some almond cakes. Take one for yourself and one for your
brother, too.”
    Samira took the small golden
cakes and thanked Hanna. This was a real treat. Something a little sweet
with the rich taste of almonds. She nibbled on her cake and went in search
of Benyamin.
    He wasn’t hard to find. He
was sweeping loose dirt out the door of the little storage building and was
happy to stop.
    â€œThis floor isn’t just dirt,”
he said. “I’ve found a part that’s made of wood.”
    Samira handed him the almond
cake and went to look. Houses never had wood floors.
    She bent over the place
where Benyamin had swept away a thick layer of dirt. The wood underneath was
old and splintered. With her fingertips she scraped away more dirt and found
a small round hole that might have been made by a nail.
    â€œBenyamin, come and look! I
think there was a handle here. This isn’t a floor. It could be the door to an
umbar.”
    Benyamin came and squatted
down. His fingers found three more holes.
    â€œYou’re right,” he said.
“The handle is long gone but it’s definitely a door.”
    â€œCan we open it?”
    â€œNot by ourselves. It will
have to be pried up. I’ll go and tell Miss Shedd.”
    Miss Shedd came at once.
    â€œAn umbar! I hope you’re
right, Samira. We need more space for our winter food supplies.” She stopped
for a moment, looking at nothing in particular. “I remember going into the
umbar at the mission with my mother and sneaking some almonds while she
scooped wheat from the big sack.” She gave her head a little shake. “Go and
tell the men who are unloading wood for the window frames that we need them
to come with a crowbar and a lantern.”
    When the door was pried up,
Miss Shedd lit the lantern and held it over the hole in the floor. They could
all see stairs leading down into darkness.
    â€œWe have to go down,” she
said. “I’ll go first to be