“Wait.” A sudden thought burst out of Rebekah’s mouth. “Pa did not come?”
“No.” Elnora rolled her to the side and pulled the sheet out from under her. “Your fater is very, very sick.”
The memory of how he looked, gray and hunched over, trying to breathe, made her uneasy in a way she could not explain. If she were well herself, she could worry about him, take care of him, really have a hand in helping him get well. Instead, she could not even walk to the outhouse by herself. If only I could do more. “I am worried about him, Mamm.”
Elnora did not answer. She didn’t have to. The pained expression on her face said it all. “What happened that you came to be downstairs, draped over the couch, Rebekah?”
Rebekah thought back and tried to pick her way through her fuzzy memory. “There was a barn fire, it woke me up.”
Elnora grunted as she folded and straightened and otherwise made herself busy, just out of her daughter’s eyeline.
“I remembered fater’s barn fire. Joseph saved me. He did not give up on me. I thought he might need me to save him.” Joseph’s harsh words came rushing back to her in a frightful blast. “But now I know that was not the case. He did not need me for anything.” She spoke quickly, so her mother did not have a chance to ask anything further. “I do not remember anything after that other than crawling into the…”
Rebekah sat up on her elbow and glanced back at her mother. “Mamm?” Rebekah caught a glimpse of the blood-soaked sheet her mother held and the realization of what happened overtook Rebekah’s mind. “Mamm, oh Mamm.” Her voice cracked. “There is no more bopplin, is there?”
Elnora wadded the scarlet sheet and attempted to hide it behind her. “Only Gotte knows that, Dochder. Keep the faith and do not leave the bed,” Elnora stuffed another sunshine-crisp sheet beneath her. “Now roll back toward me.”
“I do not move at all from the bed?”
“No.” She tucked the sheet in beneath her. “If you are still pregnant, you must be very still. You and your bopplin are both very fragile right now.”
Rebekah sniffled and tears welled in her eyes. “Oh Mater. I am such a failure.”
“No, Dochder. You are not a failure.” Elnora smoothed the sheets beneath her and covered her with a fresh quilt. “Just have faith.”
Her mamm’s words missed their mark and did not soothe her raw heart as they had done so many times before over the years.
Elnora reached over and rested her hand on Rebekah’s shoulder, but instead of rolling to acknowledge it, she shook it off without looking at her mater. Elnora retracted her hand quickly, but still with her typical gentle nature. With almost imperceptible footsteps, she retreated from the room without another word.
A wave of guilt washed over Rebekah. “Thank you for changing my bedclothes, Mamm.”
Elnora’s footsteps may have paused at the door, but Rebekah didn’t turn over to see, and she wasn’t certain why.
Whether Elnora heard her daughter or not, her mater did not respond.
***
Rebekah woke with a start. Darkness enveloped her and blackened the windows to the outside world. She felt Joseph’s side of the bed.
Empty.
Her heart, sluggish with sleep, raced to a gallop.
Did Joseph not come to bed?
She thought for a moment. Should I risk going to find him? The unasked question almost answered itself. No. If Joseph is angry at me over my coming to the barn to check on him, it is something he has to get over on his own. I am responsible for our bopplin’s safety and wellbeing.
She cupped her hands around her belly and tried to imagine what her bopplin looked like.
Was he a fat, healthy bopplin or tiny and helpless?
Is he even still there?
What does he feel like?
Smooth and soft? Cuddly?
What does he smell like?
Newborn baby, brand new and gentle?
“Little bopplin.” Rebekah moved her hand around and around. “You are still so small. If you are even still there. Please be there.” She tried to stop the thought from coming, but it was useless. “Oh, little bopplin,” she cried as fresh tears flowed freely down her cheeks, “please be oll recht.”
Rebekah froze.
A noise, so quiet and strange, gave her pause. The musical sound of a Pennsylvania Dutch prayer rolling in from the hallway. She paused and listened harder. Am I dreaming? The voice, smooth and serene, but tinged with an urgency that you had to listen in just the right places to pick up…the voice she knew well.
Her Joseph.
Before she could call out to him, something hit her hand.
Rebekah jumped.
Did a frog just jump across my hand? The absurdity of the thought made her brows furrow. What would a frog be doing in her bedroom in the middle of the night? However, nothing else made sense. It hit her again, from the inside.
“Joseph,” she cried with a shrill peak to her tone. “Come quickly!”
Tear-stained and haggard, Joseph stumbled in. Rebekah hardly noticed his bloodshot eyes.
