Today I bring you the next installment of Redemption, the story I started writing last summer. You can read the first installment here. I wrote this installment shortly after the first during the dog days of summer.
Redemption, part 2
Do not copy or reprint without express permission.
Sara Jan sat in the yard, washing the dinner dishes. The weather was so nice today, she thought she'd best enjoy it before the cold weather hit and they were forced to stay indoors all the time except to do the chores. She paused now and again to gaze at the clear blue sky, take a deep breath of the crisp early fall air and to appreciate the loveliness of the changing leaves of the trees. She glanced at her knobby hands, wrinkled from the wash water and calloused from hard work. She didn't mind it. Hard work was good for the soul. She did regret that there had been no living children--no one to help them on the farm, no one to carry on the family name. Amos had never blamed her, never said anything about the babies except to pat her back now and then and sigh.
Sara Jane thought she might spend the afternoon with the pile of mending--she could sit on blanket in the yard and enjoy the weather. She didn't expect Amos until suppertime; he'd gone down by the river to look for scrap lumber to fix the barn. It was several miles down and back and Amos had never been a fast walker.
She dumped the water from the basin on the garden and brought the clean dishes inside. She gathered the pile of mending, her sewing kit, and a blanket to sit on. She had just started darning one of Amos' socks when she spotted Amos walking down the road, his characteristic limp instantly recognizable. He had a small box in his arms, and was peering into it intently, looking up periodically to make sure his walkway was clear.
Sara Jane was surprised but figured that had been no suitable wood today. She went back to her darning, curious about the box but content to wait until Amos came into the yard to ask about it. She had finished the sock and started its mate when Amos shambled up. He sank to the ground next to her, breathing noisily through his nose. He carefully set the box down--she could see now that it was a battered train case--and opened the lid with a soft snick of the latch.
Amos sat back on his heels and rubbed a hand over his face. Sara Jan dropped her darning egg in surprise.
"Amos Walker! Where did that baby come from?" She reached out a hand to touch the baby's soft fuzzy head. Warm. No dead, then. Her heart stopped hammering away and she drew a deep breath. The baby was asleep, making small sucking noises and rooting around against the silk.
"Tossed off the Number 4 into the river," Amos said.
"My land! Who would do such a thing?" Sara Jane was shocked.
"Guess someone who didn't want him." Amos flopped on his back a shaded his eyes with one hand. He rested for a minute and then stood up.
"Best get on back to the river for that lumber." He dusted himself off, leaned in to kiss Sara Jane on the forehead and reached over to touch the baby's ear. "I was thinkin' we could call him Samuel." Then he turned around and started back down the river road.
Sara Jane stared at his retreating form, tried to still the questions swirling in her mind and forced herself to focus on the task at hand. The baby was clearly hungry; what to feed him? She knew Mrs. Parsons was nursing a baby but she was two miles away and Sara Jane wasn't ready for questions. They didn't have a milk cow, but they did keep a nanny goat and milked her every day. Sara Jane decided to see if goat's milk would work. She ran inside for a clean rag and a bowl of milk and then lifted the baby into her lap. He was so tiny and fragile; she was afraid of hurting him. Gently she cradled his head in the crook of her arm, feeling awkward and inexperienced. The baby--Samuel--opened his eyes and regarded her solemnly. She twisted a corner of the rag and dipped it into the milk, then held the dripping end near the baby's mouth. Samuel opened his mouth and sucked vigorously on the rag and started fussing when she removed it to dip into the bowl again. It took a long time to feed him--she wondered how long it had been since he'd eaten--but once sated, he closed his eyes and went back to sleep.
Sara Jane held him while he slept, thinking about what to do. The warm sun made her feel sleepy and the dead weight of Samuel in her arms was comforting. She lay down on the blanket and arranged Samuel in the crook of her arm next to her. She dozed fitfully in the sun, her mind occupied with practical questions of feeding and clothing the baby as well as trying to sort through the myriad of emotions that washed over her as he slept next to her.
He woke again mid-afternoon, grunting and rooting. She discovered his diaper was soiled and again ran inside for some rags she used during her monthlies. She had diapers packed away in a trunk somewhere, but the rags were close to hand. She changed him and got another bowl of goat's milk and began again the long process of feeding him. She felt her heart swell as she gazed at his blue eyes and fuzzy dark head. He was too new to be plump yet, and she had noticed his umbilical stump while changing him. He seemed healthy enough to look at, though, and she hoped he would live. He had survived so much already.
The light changed slightly as the afternoon wore on. Sara Jane reckoned it was near chore time. Amos should be back soon, but she knew she should start with the milking. Samuel finished eating, burped loudly and settled back to sleep. Sara Jane laid him back in the train case and brought the case inside. She put the case on the floor in the kitchen and then went back outside for the blanket and the mending. Then she headed to the barn to milk the goat. She hoped there would be enough milk for Samuel; she figured there'd be no extra for cheese for a while. She leaned her head against the goat's side as she milked. The goat was a sweet animal they called Nanny. She focused on the rhythm of her hands and the sound of the milk hissing into the bucket. She'd worry about everything else later.
TO BE CONTINUED...
