Dark Water Rising (14 page)

“The streets will soon be far too dark and dangerous.”

“That’s true,” Mama said. “Besides, you boys have to rest and eat something. Hopefully, your papa will come home soon with good news.”

“And if not,” Aunt Julia said, “maybe you can look for them in the morning?”

I hugged her again. “We’ll go at first light.” I glanced toward the stairs. “How is Ella Rose?”

“Frightened,” Mama said. “There has been no word of her father. None from her uncle and his family, either, but she’s a strong girl and a true blessing. We haven’t had to worry once about the care of the children.” She patted my hand and smiled. “You go on up and see for yourself while I fix us some supper. Nothing special,” she warned, “but it’ll be filling.”

I nodded, and headed upstairs. Mud coated the treads all the way to the landing, and when I opened the door to Ben’s bedroom, I saw a gaping hole in the roof. The room had been soaked, plaster and splintered lumber lay everywhere, and the mattress had been leaned against the wall to dry out.

I opened the door next to Ben’s and found Kate asleep on the bed. I leaned close to her, pushed damp curls from her pink cheeks, and her eyelids fluttered open. When she realized who I was, she giggled and wrapped her arms around my neck. My heart ached with gratitude.

We walked hand in hand to the next room, and I knocked softly on the door. Ella Rose pulled it open and stood there, staring at me. Without a single word, she moved into my arms and rested her cheek against my chest.

“I knew you’d come,” she whispered.

17

Mama asked a hundred questions while she cleaned our wounds and smeared salve over our cuts. Everyone wanted to know how we’d survived, how our neighbors had fared, if our house was still standing, but it seemed impossible to put all we’d seen into words. Josiah shot me a helpless glance, and with a shake of his head, sat there speechless. I struggled to tell it all as best I could, but even the sparest words put me back in the midst of wind, water, and lifeless eyes. When I’d finally spoken the last of it, we all sat in dead silence.

Kate looked at the bent heads, the prayerful hands folded in laps, and said, “A-a-a-men.”

Everyone laughed and wiped away tears. I laughed, too, relieved to be shed of the dark memories for the moment and back safe again in Aunt Julia’s parlor.

All day Sunday, odors had intensified under the hot sun. The stench made it difficult to even think of eating
supper, but I crowded around the freshly scrubbed dining table with everyone else, grateful to be there.

We sat on whatever we could find that had been scraped clean of mud. Lucas squeezed between me and Matt, holding a wounded cat he’d found this morning. He’d set her broken leg, and she lay secure in his lap, splint and all, till Mama fussed and made him put her down.

Kate hadn’t left my side since she woke up. She reached for my hand under the table, wrapped her fingers around my thumb, and once again I felt my breath catch in my throat.

Mama put steaming bowls of grits in front of us, then surprised me by asking that I give the blessing, something only Papa did. I looked at the faces circled around the table, thinking about how often I’d wanted Mama and Papa to see me as a man. Now I was being called upon to step into Papa’s shoes, but it was nothing like I’d imagined.

Mama glanced at me, waiting, so I lowered my head and searched for the right words.

“Our Father,” I said. “For the lives that were spared, for the homes left standing, and for the food set before us, we are truly grateful.”

Children strung like pearls, brown fingers grasping baseballs.

“We ask your blessings for the many that were lost last night . . .”

My name is Sarah Louise Ellison.

“. . . for the many who are wounded or alone . . .”

Empty, stunned faces.

“. . . and for all the lonely loved ones left behind.”

I peered up at Aunt Julia and Ella Rose. “We also ask that You watch over Uncle Nate, Ben, and Mr. Covington, and help Papa bring them home safe to us.”

Aunt Julia looked up at me, eyes soft with gratitude, but like Josiah, I felt something in my bones, something dark and heavy. I opened my mouth, but no more words would come.

“A-a-a-men,” Kate said, once again bringing smiles to the strained faces around the table.

Everyone picked up their spoons while I stared at the puddle of pale golden butter on top of my grits. Then with the suddenness of a cat pouncing on its prey, hunger hit.

I quickly emptied my bowl, sure I’d never eaten anything that tasted so good, and when I looked up again, Mama was standing over me, dipping her big spoon back into the pot.

“I reckon it might take every bit of this to make up for two days of doing without.”

Mama filled my bowl again, then Josiah’s, and set the pot on the table.

“If it hadn’t been for Ezra,” Aunt Julia said, “we’d all be going hungry tonight. He managed to get a lot of the food up to the attic before the water rose.”

“Good thing he didn’t put it over Ben’s room,” Lucas said, “or the fish would’ve been eating it tonight instead of us.”

Ezra laughed, and for the first time, I realized how much he sounded like Josiah.

By the time we’d finished eating, the light had faded, and Ezra lit candles for the kitchen and parlor. While he helped the boys wash up supper dishes, Ella Rose played with Kate and Elliott. Mama wanted to go back to scraping up mud, but Aunt Julia wouldn’t hear of it.

“You’ve been working hard all day, Eliza. There’ll be plenty of time tomorrow for dealing with this mud.” She pulled two chairs to the window and made Mama sit with her to watch for Papa.

Later Matt sat next to me in the parlor on a warped bench. He was quiet, and I was content to have it so. Knowing he was safe beside me was enough, but after a while, he turned toward a south window and whispered, “I saw it coming.”

There was no need to ask what he saw. I knew he was talking about the gulf.

“I saw it rise up, Seth—must’ve been near twenty feet high—and rush toward us, scraping up everything in its path. I even saw a horse on the crest, spinning
wild, over and over. I was afraid it was Archer or Deuce.” He sucked in a breath. “I thought we were dead for sure, Seth, and I didn’t hold out much hope for you, either.”

I nodded. “Did you find the horses?”

“No, but we found a dead colt on the kitchen stairs and a man tangled in the limbs of the ash tree out front.”

“Was he dead, too?”

“Yeah, but not from drowning. The tree was full of snakes, and the man was covered with bites.”

“Did Ezra take care of him?”

Matt nodded. “Along with the help of a neighbor behind us on Broadway. Mr. Hodges’s horse and wagon made it through the storm okay, so he came ’round to pick up the dead. I wanted to help, too, but Mama wouldn’t let me out of the house. I saw through the window, though.” He looked up at me, eyes wide. “Mr. Hodges must’ve had at least thirty bodies on that wagon, Seth, and all of them were friends and neighbors of Aunt Julia’s and Ella Rose’s.”

I stared at him while the reality of what he’d said sunk in. They’d lost far more than I’d realized. I glanced at the younger boys sitting on the floor, wondering if they’d seen, too. Matt leaned close and whispered, “Don’t worry; I didn’t let them near the windows.”

“It’s Thomas!” Mama called.

I picked up Elliott, and we all crowded into the kitchen to see who Papa was bringing home, but only one set of footsteps sounded on the staircase. Papa, haggard and dirty, stepped into the doorway and blinked in the candlelight. When his eyes rested on me and Josiah, relief flooded his face, and for a moment, I thought I saw tears. But with one glance at Ella Rose, his joy disappeared. He reached for her hands.

“You found my daddy?” Her voice sounded small and fragile.

He gave her a slow but definite nod, and, as if she’d known all along, she said, “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

Papa nodded again. “He was at the Ritter Café when the printing presses on the second floor fell through. I found him in the temporary morgue set up at the wharf and buried him myself. When things are better, I’ll show you where.” He pulled a small handkerchief-wrapped bundle from his pocket and placed it in her hand. “I thought you might want these.”

Ella Rose unfolded the handkerchief. A pocket watch, two rings, and a gold rose tiepin lay in the white cloth. She fingered the smaller ring. “My mama’s wedding band,” she whispered. “Daddy put it on his little finger when she died last year and never took it off.”

“What about her cousin?” Mama asked. “Henry, and his family?”

Papa shook his head. “Their house is gone. I asked everywhere I went, but there’s been no news.”

“Nothing of Mr. Farrell, either?” I asked. “Or Zach Judson and his family?”

Again he shook his head. “Nothing.”

Ella Rose stared over Papa’s shoulder for a long moment, then stuffed the bundle into her apron pocket and wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you, Mr. Braeden, for taking such good care of my daddy.” She kissed him on the cheek, and when she turned to take Elliott from my arms, I saw a glint of something hard in her eyes.

I stared at her, surprised. She rested Elliott on her hip and waited with us to hear the rest of the news.

Aunt Julia hadn’t said a word, but her face held little hope. When Papa turned to her, his eyes were full of pain and regret.

“I’m sorry, Julia.” He pulled in a ragged breath. “I looked everywhere for them.”

Mama sent Lucas for water while Papa slumped into a chair and leaned over the table, his face in his hands.

Aunt Julia kneeled beside him. “We all know how hard you tried, Thomas. No one could’ve done more.” She glanced up at me. “But there
have
been blessings in this house. Seth was spared, and Josiah was, too. We have a lot to be thankful for.” She patted Papa’s hand. “Maybe tomorrow,” she said, and with slow, measured
movements, she removed her apron, folded it, and went upstairs.

Andy and Will watched her go, eyes dry but full of pain. When they headed for the stairs outside, I nudged Matt and Lucas. They nodded and took off after them, which made me feel somewhat better. At least they wouldn’t be alone in the dark.

I left Papa in Mama’s care, grabbed Kate, and followed Ella Rose to the parlor. She sat on the bench, shifted Elliott to her shoulder, and with a rocking motion, began singing softly to him.

I didn’t know what to do. What could be done for someone who’d lost a father, a home, friends, everything that was dear to her? We hadn’t heard a word of Henry and his family, either, so there was a good chance that Ella Rose was truly alone in this world.

I slipped onto the bench beside her, feeling helpless in my need to comfort her. All I could say was “I’m sorry.”

She continued to rock and sing, never once pausing in her lullaby.

Later, Aunt Julia came back downstairs. I searched her face, wondering if she’d been alone up there in the dark with her sorrow, but I was surprised to see no sign of grieving. She carried a large stack of clean clothes, and in it, I recognized Ben’s blue work shirt and Uncle Nate’s pants.

“I’ll share my room with Eliza, Ella Rose, and the little ones.” She handed a comforter to Ezra. “You and Josiah can sleep on the clean table if you like, and the rest of you will have to make do with Andy and Will’s room till Ben’s roof is fixed.”

It seemed to be the best solution, but it was the first time I’d ever known Mama and Papa to sleep in separate bedrooms.

“Ezra,” Aunt Julia continued, “would you and Josiah kindly move Will’s bed into my room for Ella Rose and Kate?”

“Yes’m,” Ezra said, and the two of them headed upstairs.

It seemed odd to think that only yesterday we’d had our own house, our own beds and clothing. Now we had nothing we could call our own. I glanced at Ella Rose. It was far worse for her.

I pulled some clothes from the stack and went to the kitchen to wash up a bit. The city water lines were down and clean water was scarce. Ezra had been hauling it from the Hodges’ indoor cistern more than a block away, so I was careful not to use too much. I wet a rag, cleaned up as best I could, and dressed in Ben’s clothes. One look at my old tattered shirt and pants and I knew they could never be repaired. I pulled my barlow knife from the dirty pocket and with it came a handful of tiny brown petals.