The next morning, Angie woke up to a strange room, a strange bed, and a feeling of dread in her heart. The nightmare, that terrible nightmare, it was over, so why wasn’t she in her own bedroom. She slowly pulled back the blankets and saw her crocheted blanket of blessings laying on top of the comforter next to her. It was dirty and smelled like smoke. She quickly dropped it back on the bed and found her way into the living room. She realized she was in Elma and George’s house. She had been there many times before for dinner with her family.
She heard someone rustling around in the kitchen and peered in to see Elma busily making biscuits.
Elma suddenly turned to see Angie. “Good morning, child. Come in and get some breakfast while it’s hot.”
Angie wandered in and sat down at the table.
“Where is everyone?” Angie asked her.
“Why, George is at the store, my child,” Elma replied.
“No,” Angie objected, “Where is my momma and daddy? And Billy?”
Elma slowly set down her hot pad and came over to the table to sit beside Angie.
“Angie,” Elma began, “do you remember what happened last night?”
Angie fearfully shook her head ‘no’.
“There was a terrible fire…,” Elma began.
“No,” Angie kept shaking her head, “no there wasn’t. It was all a dream. A really bad dream!”
Elma placed her hands on top of Angie’s and she wept for the little girl who seemed to feel nothing.
The next few days went by in a gigantic blur for Angie. She knew there were people coming and going, words of sympathy that didn’t make much sense, and her movements were automatic, as if they were chores that needed to be done.
“Come, my child,” Elma said as she helped Angie with her coat, “it’s time for us to go.” Elma put her hand on Angie’s shoulder and guided her out the door. People were waiting outside, lots of people, and among them was the pastor. Pastor Johnson led the procession down the road, with Elma, George and Angie directly behind him. Angie was beginning to realize what was happening and where they were going, but she tried to push the knowledge from her mind.
As the procession reached the graveyard, Angie saw three freshly covered gravesites, with her parents’ and brother’s names on the wooden crosses that stood above them. She could not take her eyes away from the crosses, no matter how badly she wanted to.
Pastor Johnson was speaking words, lots of words, but the memories of three nights ago began to run through Angie’s mind. The sound of a hymn was beginning to flow through her ears, soft and sweet. Why are they singing? Angie asked herself; Don’t they realize something terrible is happening here? You sing when you’re happy, not now, not here!
She looked up at the adult’s faces, tears streaming down their faces, all so somber and grieving. She wanted to run away, but her feet refused to move. Then the pastor was beginning to walk away, where others joined him, shaking his hand and wandering on down the road, away from Angie. Away from the three crosses that bore her family’s names. Where is my name? she thought, I should have died too. I want to be with them!
Angie was suddenly startled when she realized that Pearl had marched up to her and said, “I’m sorry to hear about your family.” Her mother, Cora, looked proudly at her daughter’s declaration of sympathy.
Angie turned her gaze back at the crosses.
“Did you hear me? I said I was sorry about your family!” Pearl insisted. “Aren’t you going to say something?”
“There’s nothing to say,” Angie turned to look at her.
“Come along, dear,” Cora said, “She’s obviously just plain rude. She was probably never taught any decent manners as you were. Those Owens always were an inferior family.”
“Now you mind your tongue” Elma scolded Cora as she wrapped her arm around Angie’s shoulder. “The Owens were the finest people around this town. Don’t you go talking about people you hardly knew. Why did you come here anyway?”
“To pay my respects of course,” Cora answered in surprise, “After all, it’s the polite thing to do. I was brought up with the proper instruction, unlike some people here.”
“Well, when you’re ready to pay some PROPER respects,” Elma began, “you can come back. Now please leave us in peace.”
“Well!” Cora snorted, “I was only trying to show my concern for the less fortunate and this is what I get for it! Come along Pearl, I’m sure we can find better company than what is here!”
“Don’t count on it” Elma uttered under her breath.
Elma turned to Angie, knelt down and looked her straight in the eyes. “Angie, things are going to be very different now, but the good Lord is always with you. You’re a strong little girl and you’ve got our father’s hard work ethics and your mother’s good nature. Let these qualities be your stronghold to get you through these bad times. Be brave and always remember to say your prayers every night when you get ready to close your eyes. Those prayers will see you to better days.”
Angie wrapped her arms around Elma and the tears began to flow. The sweet relief of mourning began to release itself in the little girl who felt left all alone.
For the next few days, Angie didn’t feel like doing anything. She just laid in her bed and stared blankly out the window. Thoughts of the fire and that fateful night would revisit her over and over again. Was it her fault? Did she forget to blow out the lantern? Was it the fire in the fireplace? Was it not completely out when they retired? The idea of it possibly being her fault that her family was gone was almost more than she could bear, and she tried as hard as she could to push the guilt from her mind.
Elma had allowed Angie time to mourn, but now felt it was time for Angie to start recovering. Elma knocked at the guest room door, peered in and quietly walked over to Angie, sitting herself down on the bed next to the pale little girl.
“My goodness child, you are looking a might peaked. You need to get outside and get some sun.”
“I don’t feel like it,” Angie quietly muttered.
“I know you don’t, but I love you and I’m not about to see you waste away,” Elma told her, “Now get yourself up, get dressed and come have something to eat. Then we’re going to walk to the store and get some flour. I want you to help me make some bread.”
“I don’t know how,” Angie objected.
“I’ll teach you,” Elma assured her, “Now come on, no more excuses. Up with you and hurry yourself. Can’t wait all day. Daylight’s a-burning.”
George and Elma had bought a few necessary clothes, a coat, and a pair of shoes to replace what Angie had lost in the fire. Elma pulled them out of the closet and set them on the bed.
“I’ll wait for you in the living room. Don’t be long,” Elma insisted, “It takes a might of time to bake bread.”
Angie held Elma’s hand as they strolled quietly down the dirt road toward the General Store.
“Child, you hardly ate anything,” Elma said, concerned. “You’re gonna make yourself sick if you aren’t careful.”
Angie shrugged her shoulders.
Elma smiled and said, “Look, see Mrs. Snell’s flowers? Her garden is the most beautiful around. Even the birds must think so. You can hear them just singing away in her big tree over there.”
Angie looked where Elma was pointing, but then turned her stare back down to the road.
As they entered the store, George looked over at them and remarked, “Well, there’s my two favorite girls. What brings you to see me today?”
“We came to bring you your lunch and to buy some flour,” answered Elma. “We’re going to make bread today.”
“Well, since you came all the way to see me,” George smiled at Angie, “I’ve got something special for you.” He lifted the lid off one of the candy jars on the counter and held it in front of Angie. “Well, go on. Take a piece,” George encouraged her.
Angie reached in and took a piece of peppermint and quietly said ‘thank you’.
“Oh come on, you c
an do better than that!” George joyfully remarked. “Give me a smile…come on…give me a big smile.”
The emptiness of not seeing her father at the store was a painful reminder of the past week, but Angie tried to put a smile on her face as she looked up at him.
“See, I knew there was a smile hiding in there somewhere. You should see how pretty your face is when you smile, and how your eyes sparkle, “George remarked, “Why, I think the stars couldn’t outshine those eyes of yours!”
Angie’s smile grew a little wider and she lifted the bag of flour for Elma and offered to carry it home.
That night, as George, Elma and Angie gathered at the dinner table, Angie thanked Elma for teaching her how to make bread.
“It’s really good,” Angie smiled at Elma.
“Yes, I must say, you’re even a better cook than me,” Elma smiled back. “Perhaps we’ll try something new tomorrow.”
“I’d really like to learn how to cook and we can make something new every day, and maybe we can even bake cakes and cookies and pies…” Angie’s voice trailed away and she was deep in thought again, remembering her mother’s blue ribbon pies.
“And your pies will be absolutely the best in the county,” Elma smiled as she touched Angie’s hand, “Just like your mother’s pies.”
“Elma,” Angie started, “what will become of me now?”
“Angie, my child,” Elma said gently, “you are to stay with us. We’ll do our very best to care for you as your parents would have wanted us to.” George nodded in agreement.
Angie smiled at Elma, jumped from her chair and embraced Elma around the neck. “Thank you, Elma. I’ll be a good girl, I’ll clean and learn to cook, and I’ll do my very best!”
Then she ran to George and hugged him, “I’ll sweep your store and clean your shelves for you. You’ll see! I’ll make you proud of me.”
“We’re already proud of you, Angie sweetheart,” George whispered in her ear.
* * * *