A Place to Call Home: Chapter 2

Mindy and Warren emerged from their cabin hand in hand, ready to face the aftermath of the storm. They paused at the door to survey the farm. Branches and leaves were scattered all about and a milk pail was laying in the middle of the yard. Warren noticed several boards came loose from the barn roof and the door had blown open. Mindy could already see hail mangled plants in the garden and shuddered at the thought of their corn fields that were surly shredded to pieces. Smoke curled up on the horizon, they would have to keep an eye on that. Lightening could start terrifying wild fires.

50 years out here on the prairie, 50 years of similar storms, but the shock of seeing the damage never lessened. But they had learned a thing or two about how to recover from even a wild tornado. The first task was to check the livestock and food storage. Without the animals and food they were hopeless. The cold cellar door was still latched tight, but they checked for water damage inside. All was well, Next they checked Mindy's chickens. They were all huddled in the corner and a tad wet, but they would be fine come morning. She was glad for the extra latch they had installed.

Warren paused to let Mindy rest on the bench he had built by her chicken coop and glanced back out at the smoke. He guessed it was two or three miles away, but it was dark black now and growing. Smoke like that came from more than just lightening striking a tree. The thought that it could be a neighbors house or barn was enough to make his stomach sick.

Inside the barn puddles had created mud showing the location of each leak in the roof. Most were still dripping and a small river seemed to be running through the south west corner under the milk cow. She eyed up Warren and swatted her tail in dissatisfaction. The reddish brown cow seemed to think she owned the barn and reminded Warren daily. The three pigs along the east wall slept like nothing had happened. The tan barn cat was sitting on the belly of the largest pig licking her paws. The horses were the only creatures to really show how upset they were over the storm. The appaloosa mare was shaking her head and rocking back and forth, clearly irritated. Mindy started talking to her and reached out to clam her. The pair of draft horses still had their ears pinned back. Frost, the older of the two, was trembling. Warren panicked when he noticed the hole in the wall at the back of their stall. It appeared that Bentley had kicked the wall and was now bleeding.

"Mindy please bring my toolkit over, I need to get this bleeding stopped," Warren asked, voice shaking. These horses were his most valuable tool. He relied on them for all his field work and for getting supplies from town. Mindy wobbled toward the small room they had separated off as the tool room. It was darker in there, but Warren always put his tools away neatly and she knew just where it would be. She took one step further as she reached out for the box of vet supplies but stumbled and cried out in pain.

Warren hurried over with the lantern scolding himself for asking her to get the toolbox. But what he found in the tool room shocked him.

To be continued... 

A Place to Call Home: Chapter 1

The sun was just creeping up through the trees, casting warm sprinkles of light onto the sandy earth. The damp figure decided stepping out into the field to catch more warmth would be worth the risk. But only for a short time and only if there were weeds near by to duck into... just in case...

She was so tired and felt like she might keel over at any moment. Her whole body hurt and it seemed that her legs were just one scratch after another. At least it was better now that she could see where she was walking. But she feared someone would see her, and she didn't know if she would have the energy to run. Fear. Was it fear? She didn't know any more. She just wanted to survive.

She let her mind wander back, for just one moment. She felt like the tiny calf last winter that she found lost and alone in the wood pasture. It had been crying and was covered in mud and scratches from trying to find its mother. But the mother was dead. So she had taken the calf home, washed it off and nursed it back to health. She longed for someone to come and take her home and care for her... But that seemed to be were the similarities in their stories stopped. She no longer had a home. She had no where to go. She had no one. Not any more.

She walked all day. Sticking close to the woods and stopping to drink from the creek frequently. It was hot now and her belly was starting the sound like a mad bear. But she just kept walking. She was heading west, that much she knew. She figured she would just keep following the creek. But as the day drug on she wondered more and more where she would go. She didn't want to spend another night alone in the woods. As a young girl her mama had always told her she was never alone. God was always with her. She had believed that, she had prayed, read the Bible and sung hymns. But now she was't so sure God was even there. And if He was, she was pretty sure He didn't care about her or have time to be there in the woods with her.

Mama had always said God would provide and take care of them. She had said over and over that God had blessed them so much. But those things must not be true. If God was like her mama said, then why was her family dead, her home gone and she was starving and alone in the woods with no where to go? No, she thought, even if God was real, she didn't want to talk to Him. If He didn't save her family He wouldn't help her now. And with her mind made up she trudged on. Alone. Maybe if she got far enough away she could find a town and a job. She didn't care. In fact, she was wondering now why she was trying so hard to survive... What was the point?

~~~

Mindy struggled to get her old fingers to curl around the last egg gently enough to pick it up. Turning towards the chicken house door she slowly hobbled along, stopping every few steps for a break. Her joints seemed to creek just as bad as the rusty old door that she pushed shut to protect her hens from predators. Last week a fox had come, in the middle of the day, and made a meal of one of her girls. Her gun had been ready as always, but swinging it up to her shoulder and squinting her old eyes to see had given the sly critter more then enough time to flee. Warren had been in the barn, like he was now, working on a new saddle. She worried about him. She knew his fingers where just as bad as hers, but he never complained, and just worked harder to fill orders. The demand for his intricate yet functional saddles continued to grow. Cowboys from across the state were coming to Warren for their own custom saddles and spreading the word.  She wondered how much longer they could keep going. But with those thoughts she stopped and thanked God for all He had blessed them with and received peace knowing He would continue to provide.

Off to the west a storm was building, the dark thunder could rising high. Mindy kept an eye on it as she fed the goats and carried water inside for washing dishes. The trees behind the house had started rustling and rattling and dust clouds jumped up here and there across the freshly harvested wheat field. Mindy had seen many bad storms come across the prairie, enough to know this one was packing a punch. Mindy closed the two cabin windows and struggled to lift the heavy boards into the wooden notches. Warren had built these notches into the walls to secure the windows shut in storms like this. Next she checked the yard and area around the barn for any lose objects. She yanked on the chicken coop door one more time to make sure it was not going to fly open and headed for the barn.

The barn was small and simple, like everything on the farm. It too was built for surviving storms. Warren was bent over his work bench punching small holes into a thick piece of leather with his favorite awl. Mindy had got the awl for him on his 60th birthday. She had to send away to a company in the east, and impatiently waited, praying it would come on time. Thankfully the package had been waiting in town when they made their monthly trip for supplies. Warren had almost cried realizing how much thought she had put into choosing and ordering the simple yet important tool. That had been over ten years ago.  

"How's it looking out there?" Warrens deep voice drawled, bringing her back from her memories. "'bout as good as it sounds," replied Mindy as thunder growled closer. Warren looked up and glanced past Mindy to catch a peak at the sky. That color said a lot. Together they packed up the leather into the large wooden boxes under the work bench. It was important to keep the leather from getting wet and the barn roof often leaked.

Warren and Mindy stepped outside the barn holding hands, Mindy smiled, the only reason they survived so many storms out in this rugged land was by holding hands. The simple gesture, that couples often lost after the first few years, was a reminder that together they were stronger. But most of all, it was God who joined those hands together who was the real reason they made it through life.

The rain had started, slow at first, but then pounding down harder and harder as the storm rolled in. Inside the dark cabin the old couple had to almost yell to be heard. The wind beat the rain at the sides and roof of the cabin and howled around every edge it could find. Suddenly the sound changed and it became impossible to talk over the violent hail. The good news was storms like this never lasted long. But both occupants in the tiny vulnerable cabin had already switched their thoughts to how much damage there might be to repair.

To be continued...

Come back next week for Chapter 2.

A Place to Call Home: Introduction

A Novel. For those who enjoy stepping back in time...

Coons calling up and down the creek was the only sound breaking the otherwise still night. Even the cottonwood leaves seemed froze in place and not even a cricket chirped. It was chilly for mid-summer, yet the usual prairie breeze had been missing for days. Odd. That seemed to be the theme.

A small figure, bare toes just above the waters edge,peered into the dark. Looking. Watching. Trembling.  What lay across the other side she didn't know, but she wasn't looking back. One foot plunged into the icy water and all seemed to break loose. An owl took up from a near by tree, old wings beating hard. A bull frog launched himself into the muddy weeds and the coons scattered. She was running now. Knee deep. Struggling she lunged forward and momentarily lost her breath as she sunk into what now seemed like an ocean. 

The old owl circled around and landed upstream to watch the flopping, splashing, sobbing little thing make it to the warm bank. Her dark hair dripped down her back and ripped clothes clung to her bony body. She paused to listen. She knew there were panthers out here, but that wasn't her concern.

Come back next week for Chapter 1...