God Saw You Getting Tired
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I felt like an outsider among the happy people around me. They were all talking about the reunion and how great it was to be with old friends again, but I couldn’t help wondering why some of them had left in the first place.
“Where did you two meet?” my aunt asked me. “How are things in New York? Are you working there?”
My mind wandered as we waited for the preacher to finish. It wasn’t easy concentrating on the ceremony when my heart wasn’t in it. I would have liked to hear what Father Jansen told us because I was sure he would be able to put things in perspective.
He’d always been good at that. But he didn’t say a word during the entire mass. He walked between the pews, handing out communion wafers and talking to the people.
“Missus Cole,” Aunt Clare said. “Don’t look so glum.”
“It’s just that I wish I could get to sleep,” I answered.
She chuckled. “Why don’t you sit next to me instead? You can take notes while listening to the sermon.”
Aunt Clare sat down beside me after Mass ended. “Have you heard from your family or Mr. Thomas?”
“No.” I shook my head. “But I will soon. I’m counting on that.”
“Well, I guess we should leave the church now. Let’s go back home and surprise Mother.”
“Yeah. That sounds good to me.”
We walked around the church to avoid disturbing anyone who might be cleaning up the place. The ladies were busy packing things away into the wooden crates they used for storing their sacramental items. They had a separate storage room at the rear of the church where the sacred vessels, vestments, chalices, and crosses were kept.
I walked along with my aunt and was surprised to see that there was a large crowd gathered on the front lawn. My first thought was that I would have liked to stop to chat with them, but I wouldn’t dare intrude on such an important event. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about the people; I did, but it just wasn’t appropriate.
I wondered why everyone was standing outside when they had plenty of space inside. But then I remembered that there was a dance in the basement hall. Most likely, it was a benefit for the orphanage. The place looked packed with people.
“Why don’t you walk back to the church with me,” I told Aunt Clare. “You can get a closer look at the new building.”
Aunt Clare’s eyes lit up. She was always interested in learning how to use her new camera, and she’d probably like to get a few shots of the new addition to the church.
The only thing I could think of was what would happen if one of my mother’s friends saw us walking through the church together. It was bad enough that the preacher was giving me strange looks after Father Jansen left because I hadn’t gotten up to receive communion. No way could I get away with asking my aunt to take my picture with me. So we walked around the church to the front.
As we made our way down the center aisle, Aunt Clare turned around and said, “What are those? They look like bunches of grapes hanging from the rafters.”
“That’s the sound system they installed in the church, Missus Cole. It has a number of speakers throughout the place. People will be able to hear Mass in their own pew without disturbing the people sitting nearby.”
“Why did they need to do that?” she asked. “It sounds loud to me. Is that the speaker we heard at Mass?”
“No, there’s another one farther up on the right side.”
I looked up toward the ceiling and saw three large speakers. One of them was at the center of the left wall, just above the altar. Another was near the back door. A third was near the rear of the church in the area where the pews were placed closest to the pulpit.
“We’ll have to stop by and see it later,” Aunt Clare said. “My aunt might want to buy a couple of the speakers for her business.”
I smiled and nodded.
“We should hurry along. I know Mother will be waiting for us outside.”
I wanted to walk around the church again to get a closer look at the new addition, but Aunt Clare stopped me. “Let’s go. We still need to get some things from the house so Mother can clean up before the dance.”
The door to the old church was open, and I stepped inside as soon as I was out of sight of the people walking by the side entrance to the basement hall.
“Where are you going?” Aunt Clare asked.
“There’s no time for this!”
“It’s just that your mother might think something’s wrong with you. You haven’t been behaving like yourself lately. Don’t you understand that?”
I sighed. “I know, but I won’t be long. I only need a few minutes.”
She grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the door.
“Let’s go. Your mother is waiting for us,” she said.
“But I was only going to take a quick peek inside the church.”
“It’s too late for that. Now, come along.”
As we walked outside, I could hear the thumping music coming from the basement hall. “Come on, let’s go see what’s happening in there.”
Aunt Clare smiled. “Yeah! I’ve never seen anything like this before. Come on.”
We went down the front steps and started toward the dance hall. My aunt was so excited that I couldn’t help but smile.
“The children will be thrilled when they come downstairs and find that their friends from the orphanage are here,” she said. “They’ll be able to dance the night away without having to worry about going home or having to work.”
“I thought you said it was a benefit for the orphanage?”
“That’s right.”
“I wonder why we didn’t get any invitations.”
“Why don’t you ask Mother? She’s always happy to talk about her work. I bet she’d love to tell you all about the kids.”
So, that was that. I hadn’t gotten around to asking Aunt Clare what had happened because we were still on our way back from the church. As soon as we crossed the street and made our way down the block, I asked, “Did you invite people from the orphanage to the dance?”
“Oh yes, Missus Cole,” she said with a huge grin on her face. “I invited everyone. In fact, I’d better go and tell Mother so she can send over some extra refreshments. I’m sure the kids will want something to eat after such a long walk.”
As we crossed the street, I heard someone shout from across the street where the church parking lot was. “That’s it! That’s the one!”
Someone else yelled, “There’s more of them coming in the rear entrance!”
“I told you,” my aunt said, “you should have brought your camera along, Missus Cole.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, just in case. You know how people love to look at pictures.”
“Well, if you’re right about who those two men are, I’ll be taking plenty of pictures,” I replied, “and I’m sure you won’t mind that. You might even get yourself a few new clients.”
Aunt Clare laughed and started toward the front door. “By the way, have you heard about Missus Cole’s party?”
“What kind of party?” I asked.
“She’s having a dinner party tonight. The children are always asking her for things, and she thought this would be a good opportunity to give them an afternoon out.”
“The orphanage kids?” I asked. “Who’s hosting the dance?”
“Why, me of course,” Aunt Clare said. “Mother has a whole list of ladies that she invited.”
I nodded. “Good luck with the dance, Aunt Clare. You’ll do a wonderful job.”
“I hope so,” she replied. “And you be careful. It’s almost time for the children to come downstairs, and that might mean trouble.”
I took the side stairs up into the church and found the old choir loft. The space was dark, but it was empty, which allowed me to get a closer look at the interior of the church.
It looked like something had happened here recently. It didn’t take long to figure out why. I stepped around some pieces of the wooden pews that had fallen down onto the floor.
“I knew it!” I muttered as I came back into the aisle. “There’s been some sort of fire. But what could cause such damage?” I couldn’t imagine anything.
I hurried upstairs, and I quickly followed the path where the flames must have burned. They seemed to have stopped just before reaching the altar. Then I looked at the stained-glass windows. All of the glass had been shattered, leaving only black streaks on the walls behind the stained glass. I got down on my knees and carefully picked up one of the broken pieces.
It was scorched! Someone had set a fire in here. The fire must have started when someone tried to burn down the church.
A sudden commotion outside caught our attention. I left the choir loft and went out through the front doors. Standing outside were a half dozen men with their hats off. Two of them appeared to be holding guns.
“I’ve got you now,” one of the men shouted. “You’re going to die right here on this street.”
The other man waved his pistol, and the barrel came around from the left side. “Here’s what happens next, lady. You take off those clothes and run back up to your room while we tie you up nice and tight. If you make a single sound or move a muscle, I’ll put a bullet between your eyes. Do we have an understanding?”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I started walking toward the rear of the church where I found a large wooden door. It was the same door that had opened when I had first gone inside the building.
I glanced back at the entrance as the two men approached. One of the men was now pointing his gun at me. I held my hands up and stepped back. The second man raised his revolver and pulled the hammer back. Then he fired.
The bullet struck the wood floor just inches from my feet. “Hold it right there,” the man ordered. “Don’t move. Keep your hands where we can see them.”
One of the other men jumped forward and reached for me. “Hey! Back off!” The man pushed the gunman aside. “We’re not done here.”
The others laughed.
“What are you talking about?” another man asked.
“Just get her upstairs, you idiot!”
I could feel the cold metal of the knife in my pocket. All I had to do was reach down and press it against their necks. That should get them to stop asking questions.
I stopped. One of the other men, who had been holding his gun in the doorway, turned around. He didn’t seem to hear anything, but suddenly he pulled a gun of his own.
I ran for the back of the church. It was time to go back downstairs and call the police. I hurried toward the side door leading out into the alley. Just as I stepped onto the pavement, the bullet struck the wall behind me, missing me by less than an inch.
“Drop the gun!” shouted one of the men. “We’ll shoot if we have to!”
Another round hit the other wall. “If she moves, shoot,” the man said. “But we’d rather not.”
There were more shouts outside, and the group moved away from the back of the church. I dropped the knife and started running.
***
My feet pounded across the street, and then I darted through a gate into the backyard of the orphanage.
A sudden sense of déjà vu swept over me when I stepped out onto the pavement. This was the spot where I’d run off the morning of the first fire. I almost wished I had never come back, that I hadn’t found this place. It was a sad reminder of how things had gone for us.
I reached the rear door of the building. It opened, and I rushed inside. A blast of heat blasted my face as soon as I passed the front doors. The entire basement level had been transformed into a furnace.
“Shoot her!”
I ignored the voice coming from the church. I looked up at the ceiling, hoping to see if anyone was there. It was the only place where there could be a way out. But no, all I saw were dark wooden rafters.
The gunman pushed me against a wall and put his gun to my head. “Now take it easy, lady. We’re not here for you. You’re going to walk out of here, and we’ll leave without shooting a single bullet.”
He unlocked the door leading to the basement and shoved me through. I stumbled as the air grew hotter and stank of burning wood. “How many times do I have to tell you?” he said. “You stay right behind me. Don’t even think about making a run for it. Otherwise, I’ll shoot your brains out.”
Just then a hand grabbed my arm. I turned around. A girl’s hand. Then the sound of footsteps on the stairs made us turn around. It was Rose! She stood in the doorway with a smile. Her hair was in pigtails.
Rose and the man standing beside her had just arrived. The gunman shoved me aside and jumped over to join them.
“Get back upstairs,” Rose ordered. “And put out that fire!”
She gave me a quick wink. I was suddenly glad she had come along. With the gunmen gone, it was time for me to go upstairs to the front entrance and call the police. I should be able to get out of this mess.
I walked toward the front of the building and took the stairs two at a time. I glanced behind me to find Rose standing in the hallway, waving her hands over her head as if trying to stop a horse. The other man, who had been with him earlier, stepped forward and hit her hard in the back with his gun.
Rose gasped and dropped to the floor. Then he kicked her, sending her sprawling into the room. I turned and ran down the hall. The man didn’t seem to notice as he pulled the trigger and fired another shot toward the front door. But his bullet struck the wooden beam over the doorframe.
The gunman spun around, his weapon aimed in my direction. He raised it to point at me and screamed something. I couldn’t make it out over the sounds of the flames.
I darted to the right, heading for the side door leading out onto the backyard. There wasn’t enough time to unlock the main entrance. Just as I reached the corner, the gunman fired.
The bullet flew over my head. I took one step forward. Then another. That should get him to move away from the back door. He’d shoot someone else or he’d turn the gun on himself.
There was only one problem with that. The gunmen had left one of them behind, and she had a gun. She moved in front of the open basement door, blocking it with her body.
“Don’t even think about trying to run,” she said. “We’ll shoot you both.”
***
A wall of fire rushed up to block our way. The back door was in the line of fire. We were trapped between the burning building and a wall of flames.
Rose and I backed up. The gunman started shooting again. Rose tried to block the bullets with her arms, but there weren’t any. I didn’t want to risk another round hitting me. It was too late anyway, for all I knew, he had shot Rose.
My mind raced, desperately seeking an answer. There wasn’t one, so I went into action.
I grabbed the back of my shirt and tore off a piece of cloth. Then I ripped another. By the time Rose was ready with her own improvised bandage, I had made three handkerchiefs.
“Here,” I told her. “Put this on your arm and tie it around your waist.”
She didn’t seem surprised by my idea. I helped her wrap one of the hankies around her forearm. Then we tied them together to make a sling. With the second and third, I wrapped them around each other until they formed a belt. “You’re going to need both hands,” I said, handing her one of the belts. She took it from me and secured it over her stomach.
Rose looked up at me with tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“Sorry for what?”
“For not being able to help you.”
I thought she meant it might have been my fault that she wasn’t armed. “The gunman did this to us both,” I said. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him.”
“He’s gone now,” Rose said, pulling her hat out of her pocket.
I took her arm. “Let’s get outside, where the air is a little cooler.”
We walked through the back door, which was still open a crack. We couldn’t go any farther. The fire had caught in the middle of the backyard and spread quickly across the grass, scorching it and the bushes that grew on either side. Smoke poured from the building.
It was time to do something else.
“Stop!” Rose shouted.
Two men were carrying a large sack of flour on their shoulders. I guessed they had been delivering it when the shooting started. They weren’t paying attention to anyone but the fire. Rose yelled again, and they turned around.
“Do you have any water?” Rose asked.
Both of them nodded and rushed back inside.
Rose moved to the edge of the building and pointed her gun at the back door. She gave me a nod and took aim. I pulled the man’s gun from his waistband and put it against the building. Rose fired.
“Stop right there!” I told the other man, pointing my pistol at him. He didn’t seem to understand my meaning until I raised it, so I waved it.
The first man came into the yard with a pitcher of water. I handed him my gun and a hankie. Then I took the pitcher from him. It was heavy, but I managed to carry it. I followed the other man down the stairs that led to the basement. Rose was just behind me.
We reached the basement and the door was still open. The fire hadn’t yet engulfed it, but it wasn’t long before that would happen.
The gunman’s partner tried to block us as we entered the building, but I pushed past him and held out my hand for the pitcher. “Give me that,” I told him.
He glared at me but held out the pitcher. I took it from him and poured the contents on the flames. Water spread over the back door and caught the edges of the fire in the middle of the yard. The flames died down. The blaze was finally put out.
“We’re going upstairs,” Rose said, handing the pitcher to the gunman.
I led the way up the stairs and then back into the kitchen. The fire had reached the floorboards. The ceiling above the stove had started to smolder and black smoke hung thick in the air. The house was full of heat and smoke. I didn’t care. We were out of danger.
Rose stood in the doorway to the next room, the living room. She pulled a piece of cloth from her pocket.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Covering your face,” she answered. “It will keep the smoke and ash off your skin.”
She knotted the corner of the cloth around my neck and tied it under my chin.
The front door was still closed so we had no choice but to go out the back door and walk through the burning backyard. Rose kept telling the men not to breathe too deep of the hot air. They seemed surprised by our predicament, but they followed me outside.
“Stop right there!” Rose shouted, aiming her gun at the first man as soon as he stepped out of the building.
“We’re going back to town,” the gunman told Rose. “You can come with us or stay here.”
“Stay here,” she said.
The gunman gave her another angry look, but he went back inside. The other man walked across the lawn to the kitchen door and stood beside me.
“If we hadn’t come in here now,” Rose said, “the fire would have engulfed the entire building by morning.”
The gunman looked down at her. “How do we know that?”
I saw him take the hankie out of his pocket and wipe his face. It took a little while for the heat to leave my body. I tried to clear the smoke from my eyes and mouth.
The gunman turned around to see what was happening. He pointed to the roof above the stove, where smoke was pouring in. “Smoke is getting into the house.”
“That’s true,” Rose replied, “but it won’t be enough to completely destroy this place by itself. We need something else to burn to keep the flames going.”
He studied me carefully and then shrugged. “What do you want? Money?”
I was shaking from the heat and smoke. I had to think fast.
“Don’t shoot him,” Rose said. “Give him money. But don’t tell him who sent us.”
“All right.” The gunman started toward the barn.
Rose followed him. When we reached the barn, I noticed Rose hadn’t given me back my gun. She went through the barn, looking for something to burn.
“Let me help,” I said.
She shook her head. “No. Stay with him and make sure he doesn’t go anywhere.”
When she was finished searching, Rose picked up two bags of feed and brought them outside. The gunman followed her. “Where are you taking that?” he asked as she put the bags down by the back door.
“We’re putting it in the barn,” Rose answered, “so the fire can get under control.”
“You don’t even know how to start a fire!”
“I know enough.”
The gunman looked doubtful, but Rose walked away without bothering to answer him. After she was out of sight, I followed the gunman into the barn.
It took me a while to realize what she had done. I stood at the back door and watched her unload the feed and then carry it inside. The barn was so hot and full of smoke I couldn’t breathe.
When she stepped back out, she took the gun from me and held it in her hand. The barrel glowed red-hot and she aimed her gun at the stove. The oven door was already open. She hit the bottom of the stove with the butt of the gun, and sparks flew from the metal. Then she shot the wooden handle on top with another blast of heat.
Rose handed me my gun and then went into the barn again. I didn’t have any choice. I had to follow her. The gunman gave me a hard look as I came down the steps, but he let me come through.
A few minutes later, the stove looked like an old-fashioned wood stove, with flames shooting out of the bottom and leaping up the sides. The wood in the oven had caught fire and there were tiny glowing embers falling onto the stove’s iron surface.
“Now we need something to burn,” Rose said. She turned around and walked out of the barn.
“Wait!” I called after her.
She stopped and looked back at me. “What?”
“What do we do once the stove is burning strong?”
“You’re asking me to start a fire on purpose? Why not just light one of the candles inside? That will keep the flames going.”
“Because it won’t last long.”
“But you can get more coal for the stove.”
I took a deep breath to cool off. It was too hot in here. But Rose wasn’t looking at me; she kept walking away. I followed her.
As we entered the house, Rose picked up a match from the kitchen table. “Watch what happens to this,” she said.
Rose lit the match with her teeth and dropped it onto the stovetop. It flared briefly, and then she threw the stove top against the wall. It shattered, and the pieces fell onto the stove.
Rose stepped back. “That should keep it going.” She turned around and looked at me. “Come on, let’s go outside.”
We left the barn and stood by the open door. The heat from the fire was intense and it made my eyes burn. We watched the flames shoot up the stove as a steady stream of smoke poured out the front window. The gunman’s gun hung limp in his hand. He seemed mesmerized by the sight.
The End