“Thank you, God,” she said. Straightening her cramped back once again, which was a mixture of agony and bliss, she turned to open the corral door. Sure enough, the latch was still broken, thanks to her shoulder. Her conscience writhed within her. I did this.
As if on cue, her shoulder began to throb with a righteous ache. She had not had the opportunity to pay it any attention until now and now was still not a good time.
Opening the gate wide, she pulled Joseph through just as Dawson’s wail wafted down from the second-story window.
A wave of hopelessness swept over her as she looked at the broad swath of yard that still stood between her and Joseph and the house. She bent and pulled Joseph through the gate. As she turned to close it, she glanced down at the ground. A snake, beaten to death by the hail, lay lifeless where she just stood. Rebekah jumped, tweaking something in her back in the process. Tears pooled in her eyes and threatened to spill over, but if they did, she ignored them. She had more important work to do that did not involve any sort of fear or any semblance of crying.
Chapter Six
This day has turned into a trial of Biblical proportions. The book of Job sprang to her mind as she pulled Joseph across the wide expanse of muddy yard that had never before seemed so wide. As she pulled, she passed animals, all killed by the falling hail, that she had not noticed before. A skunk and a little raccoon lay in the ice, having been caught by surprise in the spring storm as much she had been.
Her heart ached for the little animals, but she tried hard to ignore it. It was not the time nor the place to think of anything except getting Joseph safely into the house. She let her mind wander to the safety of the Bible as the familiar story of Job and his endless trials filled her mind.
Job was a blessed man, happy and God-loving. One day, Satan tested Job in an attempt to make him curse God instead of blessing Him. Over the course of one day, trials and tribulations alike befall Job.
Rebekah found herself in a sort of rhythm as she continued, backward, toward their home. Step, step, slide. Step, step, slide. Finally, we are making some real progress!
Her mind switched from her aching muscles back to the sufferings of Job. How his heart must have broken when he learned from a messenger that his ten children had all passed away. How hopeless he must have felt when he learned that same day, that all his servants also died. Then, how the future must have suddenly gone from bright to dim when he learned, from yet another messenger on the same day, that all his livestock also perished. Despite all of this, he continued to bless God.
As we should do. You give, God, and You take away. Most importantly, you never leave us. You will never leave Joseph or me. Or Fater. Just like you never left your humble servant, Job.
Then, Job found himself afflicted. Skin sores covered his body in such severe magnitude that Job began to wish he was never born.
Makes me feel ashamed for complaining about my back.
Then, Job’s wife suggested he give in and curse God because certainly, a loving Fater would never let such maladies occur to a faithful servant. This really made Rebekah think back to the story of Adam and Eve.
Never give up, never give up. Thank you, God, for a supportive family. She tried not to think about the burning in her arms, legs, back, and neck.
Then, Job’s friends came to try and make things better, and the whole lot of them wind up making Job even more depressed. Angrier and more hopeless. However, at Job’s darkest moment, God spoke to him. This not only lifted him up out of his suffering, but Job learned an important lesson. Not only for him but for me, too. The important lesson being that God allowed his beloved servant to be tempted because God trusted him.
Once he realized that, Job found himself to be blessed by God even more abundantly than he had been blessed before. Even his children sprang back to life.
Thunk.
Rebekah’s foot thunked against the bottom step of their porch. I have made it! Thank you, God. She sat down on the bottom step and checked her husband.
Blood eked from beneath Joseph’s makeshift bandage and his legs were still heavily injured. “My dear Joseph,” she said. “I did not think we would make it this far. Yet here we are, just you, me, and the bopplin, who is screaming in his crib. But do not worry. He is safe. We just want you to wake up. And I really want to figure out a way to get you up these stairs and into our home.”
Rebekah sat down on the top step. She placed her elbows on her knees and held her head in her hands. “What I need is a litter. Or stretcher.”
She stood and surveyed the land, halfway hoping someone would appear to help her. However, there was nobody.
Slowly, she turned until she came back full circle. Then, there it was. The answer she needed, right there on her front porch the entire time. Her beloved screen door, hanging on by a tweaked piece of wood, otherwise hers for the taking.
“Looks like Joseph did not get you closed any more than I did before that storm hit,” she told the door. She hurried up the stairs and over to the door. With shaking arms, she yanked it free from the house. “And I am so grateful he did not.”
Rebekah propped the door against the steps. It was just long enough to overhang the top step while sitting on the ground. She sucked in a breath. If Joseph survives this, it is going to be a miracle.
She laid the door on the ground next to Joseph. “I am sorry, my lieb. But now I have to get you onto this door so I can get you inside and take care of you.”
Rebekah reached from over the door and grasped the end of the quilt. She pulled up on the end of the quilt and Joseph too, which was much harder than she anticipated. For every bit she pulled him up, she inched the door underneath him. It took much longer than she expected, but she finally got him halfway onto the door. Her back was soaked with sweat and the shrieking of her bopplin from the window was wearing on her nerves. “Oh, I fear the bopplin thinks I have forgotten him.” Rebekah wracked her brain for a song as she tried to get Joseph the rest of the way onto the door. The only song that came to mind was an Englischer song about a baby and a mockingbird that would not sing.
Rebekah could not remember where she picked up the song, but it was catchy, and it had stuck with her for quite some time.
“Hush little bopplin,” she began loudly. Her voice cracked, but she was sure nobody around her minded, “do not say a word. Mater is going to buy you a mockingbird.”
Dawson’s cries became less angry as she got Joseph situated on the door. Now just to tie him down, so he does not fall off when I pull him up the stairs. Rebekah untied her apron and continued her song to Dawson.
“If that mockingbird refuses to sing, Mater will buy you a diamond ring.” She slid the apron under Joseph’s arms, still bound by her button trick, and wrapped the strings behind the door before doubling them around to tie them in front. “If that diamond ring turns brass, Mater will buy you a…” Rebekah thought for a moment. “Looking glass!”
She hefted the door, which was substantially heavier than the quilt, and inched backward. Her muscles screamed, so she sang louder. “If that looking glass gets broken, Mater is going to buy you a…” Umph. “Billy goat.”
Up one step.
“If that Billy boat will not pull, Mater is going to buy you a cart and a bull.”
Up the second step.
By now, Joseph was partially standing up.
“If that cart and bull fall down, Dawson will still be the sweetest bopplin in the settlement.”
Up the third step. We have almost made it.
Dawson was finally quiet, so Rebekah paused for a quick, minuscule rest. Slowly, Joseph began to slide down on his door board.
Oh no, my apron will not hold him!
