A Quilt For Jenna

Chapter 5: The Storm

Chapter 5: The Storm

Bobby Halverson was out early on Thanksgiving morning. Snowfall had been steady all through the night, and the temperature had dropped into the twenties. Bobby had been running his plow up and down Highway 30, the main route between Wooster and Dalton, since five.

The old tractor had been running pretty smoothly, and the heated cab kept Bobby fairly warm. On his second pass toward Dalton, he turned south onto Carr Road and headed back toward Apple Creek. He crossed County Highway 188 and continued toward Dover Road. Along the way he checked the driveways and lanes that opened out onto the road. Many of his Amish friends lived on farms along here, and they didn’t have powerful enough equipment to clear their roads in a major snowstorm. So far the area had received only about five inches, but Bobby knew more was coming.

As he plowed south along the road, he saw Henry Lowenstein’s old Buick coming toward him. As they pulled alongside each other, Bobby throttled down the tractor and stopped. Henry pulled up alongside and rolled down the window of the old sedan. Bobby leaned out of the window of his cab and called over the sound of the rising wind.

“Hey, Henry, where you headed in this weather?”

“Hey yourself, Bobby,” Henry called back. “I’m headed to Dalton to my grandma’s house for dinner. Takin’ Missus Springer up to the quilt fair.”

Bobby hadn’t noticed Jerusha in the backseat. He had once been close to Reuben and Jerusha. He and Reuben had been like brothers.

“Howdy, Jerusha,” Bobby called down with a smile.

“Hello, Bobby,” Jerusha answered, looking straight ahead.

Bobby understood and let it pass. He turned to Henry.

“You better get a move on. The wind has picked up quite a bit, and the snow is really gonna start coming down. It’s getting colder too. I sure don’t like the looks of this storm. It’s gonna be a whopper.”

“Don’t worry about me, Bobby,” Henry called back. “This old warhorse is like a tank. Got a great heater, and she’s heavy enough to go right through the drifts.”

“Okay, then,” Bobby said. “But keep your eyes on the road. There’s a lot of black ice between here and Dalton, and the snow has been filling in behind me as I plow. I’m expecting the main part of the storm to be on us a lot quicker than we expect.”

“Will do, Bobby!” Henry yelled over the wind. He put the car in gear and chugged up the road.

Bobby had an uneasy feeling as he watched Henry head north. He pushed on the tractor’s throttle and began heading south to the county highway. About a quarter of a mile down the road, he turned left and pulled into the Borntrager farm, plowing the snow into the ditch as he headed down the lane. Amos was out in front of the barn getting his cows inside. He waved as Bobby rumbled up.

“Everything okay, Amos?” Bobby asked from the cab.

“Doin’ fine, Bobby, just fine,” Amos answered. “Thanks for plowin’ her out for me. I got lots of propane and plenty of food, so I think we’ll be all right until she blows over.”

“Well, I’ll look back in on you next pass through,” Bobby called as he turned around in the farmyard and headed back toward Apple Creek. He turned south onto Carr Road and passed the Albrecht place and then the Kopfensteins’. Bobby could see the families out battening down their barns and sheds and getting their livestock under cover. He then pulled onto the county highway and headed west into Apple Creek. The wind began to howl, and Bobby noticed that his cab was considerably colder.

She’s coming, and she’s a mean one. This is gonna be nasty. The tractor throbbed beneath him as he headed west. Bobby Halverson had a very bad feeling about this storm.

He had a good reason to fear this storm. Two hundred fifty miles to the east, the wind was gusting at over eighty miles per hour. Large areas of the Northeast were experiencing massive tree damage and power outages. Coastal waves and tidal surges from the high winds breached dikes around LaGuardia and flooded the airport runways, shutting down the air traffic there. In Pennsylvania, the Schuylkill River reached flood stage as more than thirty inches of snow accumulated in Pittsburgh. Two fronts of the storm, one moving down from Canada and one up from the south, joined over Lake Erie and moved west and south, bringing freezing temperatures and record snowfall. The barometric pressure inside the storm had plummeted over Washington DC, and the storm began to rotate counterclockwise, transforming into a huge, six-thousand-foot-high cyclone with winds that would eventually top a hundred miles an hour.

Henry reached Kidron Road and turned north. He was looking for the turnoff to Nussbaum Road. That was the shortcut that took almost a mile off the trip into Dalton. The wind had picked up, and Henry could feel the car shake as the gusts struck. The snow was thick, and visibility was only about three hundred feet. Still, Henry wanted to get to Dalton before the worst of it hit, so he picked up speed. He leaned forward, peering through the window as the snow closed in. Visibility was decreasing.

He slowed down a bit. What was that ahead? Something in the road, but what? It was some black...Before he could finish the thought, the cow turned toward the car and into its path. Henry pulled the car to the right to swing around the animal and then jerked the wheel to the left.

The confused cow stood her ground as the car hit her in the hindquarters. She spun around and then staggered off up the road.

Henry tried to turn into the skid as he felt himself sliding off the road, but the big Buick lost traction, and the rear end began to swing around, guiding the car over the side of the road backward and into a ditch.

When the car settled, Henry took stock of himself and asked, “You okay, Missus Springer?”

“I think I twisted my neck,” Jerusha said. “But other than that I seem to be all in one piece.”

Henry climbed out of the car and went around to the back to look at the now-blown tires.

Then he made his way up the ditch and onto the road to see if he could find the cow. She lay in the ditch about fifty feet away, jerking in spasmodic death throes. He cursed under his breath and then walked back to the car and climbed into the front seat.

“We’re stuck good, ma’am,” he said. “I only got one spare tire, and both the back tires are blown. Don’t think I could get us out of this ditch even with both tires. We’re going to need a tow truck.”

“What’ll we do?” Jerusha asked.

“I know where we are,” Henry said. “That was one of old man Johnston’s cows—I can tell by the cut ear. That means we’re about four miles out of town. I think you should stay here and keep as warm as you can while I go for help. I got an extra blanket in the trunk, and you’re dressed pretty warm, so you should be okay.”

“Are you sure you shouldn’t just stay here, Henry?” asked Jerusha, her voice sounding a little frightened. “Surely someone will come by and see us.”

“No, ma’am,” he answered. “With the storm pickin’ up, there might not be anyone along here for a good while. Most people would take Highway 30 in this storm. Besides, the ditch is just deep enough

to keep us out of view. I can make it into town well before dark and

get somebody to come for you. You just wait here. I’ll be back in no time.”

Henry closed the door, went around to open the trunk, and pulled out the shipping company blanket he kept there. It was thin and dirty, but it was all he had. He closed the trunk and handed the blanket in through the back door to Jerusha. He tried to keep up a good front as he said, “Don’t worry none, Missus Springer. I’ll be back before you know it. I’m going right up to Nussbaum Road, over to the Township Highway, and then right into town. I’ll probably get picked up before I even get there. Just bundle up and don’t leave the car. I need to know you’ll be here when I get back.”

“Don’t worry, Henry,” Jerusha said. “I don’t think I’ll be going for a walk or anything.”

Jerusha managed a wan smile as Henry patted her on the arm. He handed her the car keys.

“If it gets really cold you can turn the car on for a few minutes. She’s got a good heater and she’ll warm up pretty quick. But don’t leave ’er on too long—five minutes at most. You don’t want to get carbon monoxide poisoning.”

He closed the car door and started off up the road to Dalton. The white snow closed in around the car, and in a few seconds Henry had disappeared. Jerusha sat still, staring into the gathering storm.

This is Your fault, Jerusha thought. You are still punishing me. What did I do to make You hate me so much?

Not far away lay another wrecked car, still on its roof, partway out onto the frozen pond. Inside the car lay the little girl. The seat cushion, some extra clothing, and a lone blanket that had piled up around her during the crash were all she had to keep her from the bitter cold. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked out through the window of the upside-down car. She remembered the look on the bad man’s face as he sank beneath the water. He had stared right at her as he clutched the edge of the ice with one arm. Then the water had dragged him down, his open mouth filling with water as he choked out one last scream. Now she was alone in the storm, and there was only one person she wanted to comfort her, to hold her close...but that person was gone.

The girl stirred weakly and began to cry. “Mama, I’m cold,” she said. “I’m so cold...”