The Survivor (22 page)

Chapter Thirty

A
roar, as loud as a train, reverberated through the valley. And just like a locomotive was near, the ground shook with the storm’s vibrations. In the storm cellar, some of the paneling that lined the walls creaked and groaned, making their haven feel even more precarious. Above their heads, the lamp swung wildly back and forth, casting flashes of light into the shadows.

John eyed it worriedly. He momentarily considered standing up and lifting it off the hook, but ultimately decided against it. Though he was trying hard to act unflustered, the deafening roar above them was scaring him something awful.

Beside him, Mary flinched as they heard a crash.

“Do you think that was the house?” Abel asked. “Do you think that was our house coming apart?”

Though John ached to tell the boy what he wanted to hear, he was even less willing to give him false hope. Only God knew what was happening above them.

“I don’t know. Perhaps it was just some shingles.” As more debris thumped above them, and the ground continued to shake, John added more loudly, “Abel, Mary, I’m afraid this sounds bad. You might want to prepare yourselves for the worst.”

The noise got louder. Tears filled Abel’s eyes as he curled into a ball, hugging his pillow to his chest. Holding Mary’s hand, with his other, John reached for Abel’s. To his relief, Abel unclenched his fist enough to take John’s hand.

Then they sat in silence as the world seemed to destruct above them.

Minutes later—or perhaps it had only been seconds—the dizzying shriek quieted, replaced by the sound of pounding rain.

Slowly Mary pulled away. “Do you think it’s over?”

“I hope so.”

Tense, the three of them raised their heads. John got to his feet and stood closer to the storm door. Sounds of branches ripping from trees, then crashing to the ground, reverberated around them. John felt the hair on the back of his neck rise.

“Come back, John,” Mary pleaded.

“I’m okay. I won’t open the door. I’m trying to listen to see if anything’s changed.”

But of course, it was a futile proposition. The rain continued to pound and the winds still shrieked. As debris scratched against the shelter’s door, John looked at it with worry. More than anything, he hoped no trees or boards from the house or barn would fall directly on the door. If they were trapped, they’d have to rely on being found, and that scared him half to death.

Now pings of hail clanked above them. Mary winced in response. “John, please come back.”

As he glanced in her direction, guilt besieged him. He should have put Mary’s needs first and held tight to her hand instead of giving into curiosity.

“Of course. I’m sorry,” he said. But now simply holding her hand didn’t seem enough. Unable to stop himself, John wrapped an arm around her back, holding her close. He looked at Abel. The boy was holding his pillow tight against his chest again and was staring into space.

In the flickering light, Mary looked at her son worriedly. After a moment, she said, “Abel, John, right at this moment, our future seems to be in the Lord’s hands. Because of that, there’s only one thing to do. We must pray.”

“Do you think it will even help?” Abel asked.

“It can only help,
jah
?” Mary countered. “We must pray for our safety and the safety of others.”

Immediately, Abel’s head tucked. John bowed his head, too. Mary’s words rang true. At the moment, he’d never felt more helpless in his life. All he was able to do was hold on to these two people and ask the Lord to watch over them.

“God, please be with us,” he said out loud. “Please watch over us and the animals and our family.”

“And watch over our friends,” Abel added.

“I know you are always with us,” Mary finished. “Please protect us now.”

Above them, it sounded like the rain was lessening. Perhaps the worst was over.

While Mary and Abel sat in silence, John spoke to God silently.
“I know there’s not much to me, Lord. But I finally feel like I’ve found the right place for myself. Please don’t let me lose it now.”

Just then, the air stilled. John gasped, half expecting another rush of wind to blast through the valley. Half expecting the frightful roar of another tornado to come barreling forward.

But instead of loud noise, there was only sudden silence.

Mary loosened her hand from John’s grasp and straightened her back with a faint groan. Tilting her head to one side, she listened. Finally, she looked at Abel and smiled. “It sounds like the high winds are gone. The storm has passed.”

Abel lifted his head. “Maybe we’ll be okay after all.”

Abel’s voice was so full of wonder, Mary exchanged a smile with John. “Yes, son. I think so.”

John stood up. “Your mother’s right. We made it.”

Mary beamed. “Our prayers were answered.”

Abel got to his feet, too. Staring at the storm cellar’s thick oak door, he said, “I wonder what it looks like outside.”

John motioned the boy forward. “Let’s go check, Abel.”

Mary scrambled to her feet. “
Nee.
Not yet. Maybe we should wait a bit?”

He knew Mary was nervous and feared for Abel’s safety. John didn’t blame her. But he also knew that staying underground like an ostrich wouldn’t help things, either. He wanted to see how the animals were doing, and check for the possibility of fire as well.

But because he didn’t want to scare her, he kept his thoughts to himself. “We’ll only take a peek,” he said, carefully. “If things look bad, we’ll stay here a bit longer. If not, it will be nice to stretch our legs, don’t you think, Abel?”

Abel nodded.

Slowly, John unhooked the latch and then pushed up on the wood.

It didn’t budge.

Fear coursed through him. If they were trapped, it could be hours or even days before they were rescued. His pulse racing, he motioned for Abel to stand beside him. “I’m going to need your help to push. Okay?”

“I’m strong.” He made a muscle. “I can help.”

“All right then.” John shifted a bit more so that the boy was more fully situated under the lowest part of the door. “On my count of three, we’re going to push. Got it?”

“Jah.”

“One . . . two . . . three!”

Arms strained as together the two of them pushed upward with all their might. At first, nothing happened, not even a smidge of movement.

But then something did. The door opened half an inch. Relief coursing through him, John raised his voice. “Abel, that’s great! Now, let’s push harder. Let’s push and get this door open.”

Rearranging their hands, Abel looked at him again. “On three?”

“On three.” After another count, John pushed with all his might. The muscles in his back screamed in protest. Drops of sweat formed on his brow.

Then, with a creak and a groan and a snap, they pushed the door open.

Before John could warn him, Abel scampered forward, going up the ladder with ease.

When he disappeared from view, Mary leapt to her feet. “Abel! Be careful!”

“I’ll go after him,” John said, already halfway up the rungs.

But just then, Abel crouched down. And pointed. “Look at this branch. It was blocking us in.”

John noticed the branch was freshly split in two. “We broke that getting out.”

“We did it together.”

John understood what the boy meant. This boy—this boy who struggled in school and had fought the idea of his mother finding new love—had finally realized that he was terribly important and needed. In addition, he’d also learned that John valued him, too.

It was going to take all three of them to make their future a success, and there was room in all their lives for another person to love.

“We did do this together,” John said. “Abel, I couldn’t have lifted the door without you. You gave me the added strength I needed. Abel, your mother and I couldn’t have gotten out without you.”

After a brief pause, Abel stared at him with a new resolve—and acceptance—in his eyes. “And, Mamm and I wouldn’t have been all right without you, John,” he said.

They were still staring at each other when Mary climbed up the ladder and stood by their side.

“Let’s go see what the storm brought us,” she said.

He smiled at her, then grinned when he saw that her house was intact, all except for a few pieces of missing siding and shingles.

But when he turned toward the barn, he felt himself sway.

And literally could think of nothing to say. Because there was a gaping hole in the side of the barn.

Chapter Thirty-One

“I
think it’s over,” Mary Weaver stated as she lifted her hands off Katie’s shoulders. “Praise God for that.” With a shaking hand, she pushed back the few strands of hair that had come loose from the bun at the back of her neck. “I don’t know when I’ve ever been more afraid in my life.”

“I was scared,” Katie said, her usual cheery voice sadly deflated.

When the eerie light of the lantern flickered, illuminating Katie’s tearstained cheeks for a brief moment, Mattie looked at her with a reassuring smile. “You were mighty brave today, Katie. We were all proud of you.”

Pride flickered in Katie’s expression before worry replaced it again. “I tried to be brave, but I wasn’t. Not really,” she said. “Mamm, I don’t want any more tornadoes to come. Ever.”

The plaintive command was just what everyone needed to dispel some of the tension in the shelter.

“I know you don’t,” her mother said with a chuckle. “I, for one, hope the Lord doesn’t send us anymore for a while, either.”

“I’ll pray for that as well,” Lucy said lightly from her spot in the very back. “Now may I please get up?”

They’d placed her next to the wall, a warm quilt wrapped on her lap.

Mattie noticed Lucy was only asking out of politeness. In fact, she was already standing up and deftly folding the blue quilt into quarters.

But Graham, obviously unable to resist teasing his brother, said, “Calvin, what do you think? Is it safe for Lucy to move?”

Calvin scowled at him. “I wasn’t
ordering
her to sit there, Graham. I just wanted her and the baby to be safe . . .”

Lucy grinned. “I know you wanted me there because you were worried, husband. Don’t worry. I’m not upset.”

“Now that everything’s all good, let’s get out of here,” Graham said. “What do you think, Calvin?”

Mattie breathed deeply as she looked at Graham. He was standing by the door to the storm cellar and was looking for direction from Calvin.

Mattie admired that. Just as she admired most everything about him. As usual, he was standing stoically, being strong but not showy.

Like he always was.

Graham relied on his easy humor and place in the family to usually stay in the background, or to support his brothers.

But though he didn’t claim the spotlight, it was always apparent that he was definitely as capable and responsible as either of his brothers.

He just didn’t have the need to be recognized.

She thought only a person of strong character could do that. It was sometimes hard to let others shine. With some surprise, she realized that time and again, he’d done that for her.

After glancing up at the ceiling again and visibly straining his hearing, Calvin at last looked toward Graham and nodded. “I think the twister has passed. Let’s open the door and see what damage has been done.”

“Nothing that can’t be fixed,” Graham said with a reassuring smile toward his sister before stepping closer to the door. With a grunt, Graham loosened the bolt and with the help of his shoulder and Calvin’s support, pushed open the heavy door. With a clunk, it flapped open and crashed against the ground.

Immediately, rain flew in, along with only a narrow beam of faint light. The storm clouds had chased away the early evening sunset and left the sky gray as smoke.

With Mary by her side and Katie at their heels, Mattie stepped forward and peered into the opening, not even caring that the cold November rain was splattering against her cheeks and forehead. The wind was still strong, but it came in gusts, not with the heavy, all-encompassing pull and scream from just moments before.

Altogether, they breathed a sigh of relief. The tornado had indeed passed.

“Praise the Lord,” Mary said again.

“Yes, our God is good, indeed,” Calvin murmured as he stepped aside so Graham could lead the way. As Graham climbed forward, Calvin walked to where Lucy stood and took her hand.

Mattie stood at the opening and waited for Graham to signal her forward. Rain splattered against her skin, soaking the edges of her
kapp
. But instead of backing away into the shelter, she kept her chin tilted. The fresh air was so welcome, Mattie didn’t even mind getting her cheeks soaked.

Graham stepped up two rungs and carefully poked his head farther out.

Mattie had to force herself to continue to breathe, she was so on edge. For a moment, no one said a word as they all waited expectantly for news.

But when Graham stayed silent, not conveying any reports, the tension in the storm cellar intensified. Mattie felt warm tears mix with the cold raindrops as fear of the news gripped her.

“Well, son. What do you see?” his mother called out. “Is it safe to come out of here?”

“It’s safe,” Graham muttered. “You won’t be hurt by the storm any longer. I, uh, I see it on the horizon. It’s passed.”

His words were like a soothing balm, so smooth and calm that Mattie was reminded of how he’d held her when she’d been so sick.

And now, just as when she’d been racked by sickness, Graham’s voice was exactly the voice she needed to hear.

Almost.

Little by little, she realized Graham’s tone was off. It was becoming painfully obvious that something was wrong.

Bracing herself for the worst, Mattie called out, “Graham, what is it? What do you see?”

A long moment passed before he spoke. “Oh, quite a bit . . .”

“No real damage?” Calvin rubbed Lucy’s back as he smiled broadly.

“
Nee.
I mean I see quite a bit of destruction.” Speaking faster, Graham added, “Parts of the house . . . the barn are gone.” Each word sounded like it was being choked from his throat. “Mamm, I’m so sorry, but I’m afraid we’ve lost almost everything.”

As Mary stared at the opening in confusion and Lucy gasped behind her, Mattie’s heart felt like it stopped. “Surely not?” she asked. “Graham, I bet things aren’t that bad . . .”

Graham knelt down so they could see his head. “I wouldn’t tease about this. You all ought to come see . . .” He paused, obviously struggling to keep his composure. The muscles in his throat working, he tried again. “I mean . . . I mean, you all need to see this for yourselves.”

In the dim light, they were all silent as they watched his feet disappear. Mattie felt frozen. From the stillness around her, she figured Calvin, Lucy, and Mary felt the same.

Only Katie had wiggled forward. With one hand on the well-worn ladder, she looked at her
mamm
curiously. “Mamm, are we going to go up, too? I want to see what Graham meant.”

With a shaky sigh, Mary nodded. “In a moment, dear.” She looked toward Calvin. “Son, do you want to go next?”

“All right.” Looking to Lucy, he said, “Do you want to come up with me or wait here? You can wait if you’re not ready.”

“I don’t need to wait.” With a hint of steel in her voice—reminding them all she was far stronger than she looked—Lucy said, “I’m ready for just about anything.”

His mother put an arm on Lucy’s back. “Maybe you should wait, Lucy. Just to be sure everything’s safe?”

“My place is with Calvin.”

“But—”

“I’ll be fine. I want to be by his side.”

Calvin’s smile grew as she stepped forward. Mattie watched Calvin help Lucy up onto the rungs of the ladder, then followed from behind.

Lucy’s gasp echoed down the shaft, giving Mattie a chill.

Katie hopped from one foot to the next. “Now, Mamm?”

“
Jah,
daughter. I suppose we’ll go next,” Mary Weaver said reluctantly. “I mean, if that’s all right with you, Mattie?”

“It’s fine. Go ahead.”

At long last, Mary and Katie climbed the ladder, Katie in front of her
mamm
.

After Katie had disappeared through the opening, Mary looked toward Mattie. “Would you like me to wait for you here? To help you up?”

“
Nee.
I’ll be fine. I need a moment, I’m afraid.”

“All right.” Mary’s voice was hesitant. “If you’re sure?”

“I’ll be fine. I just need a moment with the Lord.”

After Mary disappeared, Mattie leaned back against the hard rock that lined the walls and closed her eyes. “Thank you for protecting us, Lord,” she said. “And Lord, thank you for helping me now understand why I’ve had to overcome so many obstacles.” As understanding dawned, she continued. “Now I realize that I needed to learn to be strong, and to remember what was important in my life.

“Long ago, I would have said I needed security. I would have protested how I needed things to stay the same so I would feel safe. But now I know that isn’t the case at all. Now I know that we can survive anything, as long as we have each other. It is our health and our loved ones that should be treasured. And you, Lord! You. Not everything else.”

The faint glow of knowing that she’d said the right words penetrated her right then and there.

With a new resolve, she walked to the ladder. Now she was prepared for anything she faced.

T
he fresh air brought a fresh beginning, and the unwelcome reminder of what had just passed. By her side, Graham whistled low as he surveyed the land that had been in his family for generations. Debris and torn branches littered the fields. What was left of their barn stood precariously—the wood seemed to shift and sway in a dance, threatening to fall at any moment. In addition, a gaping hole was now where the west wall used to be.

To Mattie’s amazement, when she peered inside, there were still some bridles and saddles hanging neatly. The other three walls shook slightly, looking as if all they needed was a soft breeze to encourage them to come tumbling down.

Behind them, the Weavers’ home lay in shambles. The tornado had clipped the house, removing part of the roof and upsetting most everything in the living room. Miraculously, other parts of the building seemed completely untouched.

How a tornado could do so much damage to some parts of a home while completely bypassing others was surely one of the Lord’s mysteries, Mattie decided.

Of course, she’d long given up trying to figure out or predict God’s will. What happened, happened. And He would be by their sides to help and give strength . . . if they wanted it. With that in mind, she closed her eyes and gave thanks again. All of them were fine, not even sporting bruises or cuts. And God had saved the animals in the barn, too. It was a miracle that the wall that had been lifted by the storm had been next to the tool shed and workroom.

But Graham, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be counting his blessings or holding out the slightest bit of hope. Instead, he looked as sad and tired as she’d ever seen him—and thoroughly dejected. His shoulders slumped and his face was haggard.

“Graham?” she said. “Are you all right?”

“I don’t know.” After another long moment of stunned silence, he turned to Mattie. “What am I going to do? Everything’s gone.”

Things were in disarray, it was true. But all wasn’t lost. She could see that now. “That’s not true.”

He turned to her. “You really think so?”

“I know so. Graham, everything can be rebuilt. And we’ll build it better and stronger.”

Though he nodded, Graham didn’t look as if he believed a word of what she said. “My father built so much of this. He’d be devastated to see that it’s ruined.”

Mattie had known Mr. Weaver. And she knew something about being in the brink of ill health. After all, her battle with cancer had led her to a terribly dark place. A place where most everything had seemed insurmountable. Almost too hard to bear.

But months of care from friends like Lucy, and seeing how much Ella had wanted to overcome the obstacles in her life, had strengthened Mattie. So had the unfailing support of Graham.

Perhaps he would never realize the impact he had on her life. Perhaps he would never understand how hard it had been for her to move forward.

But maybe that was why God had given them each other. “I disagree,” she finally said. “I don’t think your father would have been fazed by this at all.”

“And why is that? Because he was a much better man?”

“Because he knew what was important in his life,” she countered. “Just as I think you know, too, Graham. It’s the people who surround us that matter. Not the things. It’s our health and our friends and family who can surround us when things are the toughest. Those are the things that count.”

“Of course you’re right.” Running a hand through his hair, he attempted to smile. “It’s just a lot to take in right now. That’s all.”

Of course it was. Anyone would feel at a loss. She knew he was just stunned. Overwhelmed. Playfully, she sought to brighten his mood. “We still have each other.”

“Of course we do.” He smiled weakly. Then, seemingly oblivious to the wet ground, he sat on an overturned barrel. “But Mattie, I have to tell ya, I’m having a hard time taking all this in. All my life, I’ve tried to measure up to my
daed,
measure up to my brothers. I never felt like I was ever going to be as good as them. Everything with Jenna truly upset me. I’ve already lost so much. Lots of people will hardly look at me the same way. And those that do? They look at me differently.”