Page 37 of Hope’s Enduring Echo

Etta

Etta made a pot of coffee, and then she and Martha, as Leo’s mother insisted she be called, spent a pleasant hour becoming acquainted. It had been so long since Etta chatted over coffee and cookies with a woman her age she’d nearly forgotten how easy it was to get lost in conversation. She and Martha discussed little things, like their favorite recipes, and serious things, such as their dismay over the war raging in Europe. Martha was more familiar with current events than she was. Etta’s infrequent forays into town shielded her from much of what was happening in the world outside her little valley home. She soaked up the information, storing away snippets to share with Jennie or Claude later.

While the women talked, Myrtle, after asking what she could do to help, swept the floor and swished a feather duster over every piece of furniture in the house. Rags followed her and tried to ambush the broom bristles and the turkey feathers, but Myrtle didn’t seem to mind. Even so, Etta said, “I can put Rags in the shed if he’s being a pest. He usually spends his day with Mr. Ward. I’m sure he’s wondering where his favorite person has gone.”

Martha clicked her tongue on her teeth. “Poor little scamp. Yes, I’m sure he’s confused by all the changes happening. I doubt he’s bothering Myrtle, though. All my children love animals, and I’ve always regretted that they couldn’t have a pet of their own. But we’ve never owned our own home. We’ve lived in houses provided by the churches Paul has pastored. I didn’t feel comfortable bringing pets into what was, in essence, someone else’s home.”

Myrtle hung the duster on its hook, then crossed to the table and folded her hands in a prayerful position. “Mother, may I take Rags outside and play with him? I found a piece of chewed rope under the settee. I bet he’d fetch it if I threw it.”

Martha laughed. “Go ahead, but stay close by.” She watched Myrtle pick up the rope from the floor and head outside with Rags leaping at her hand, then turned to Etta. “Do you already have a house picked out in Canon City?”

Etta shook her head, worry sneaking in. “No. Mr. Cambrie, the president of the Water Works Department, said he would store our furniture and pay for hotel rooms until we can find a place. But, to be honest, I don’t know how we’ll be able to rent a house. I haven’t held a paying job since Claude and I got married, and now Claude’s income will cease since we won’t be paid for linewalking.” Should she be so open with someone she’d only just met? Although their acquaintanceship was new, Martha had a way of putting one completely at ease. She went on, her gaze on the mug of coffee in front of her. “My sister and her husband offered us a room in their house, which would be fine if it were only Claude and me or Jennie and me, but all three of us?” She shook her head. “That’s much less than ideal.”

Martha delicately cleared her throat, and Etta looked up. The woman reached across the table and cupped her hand over Etta’s. “I hope you won’t think me forward, but Leo shared some of the troubles your husband has experienced. He asked Paul and me to pray for you. There’s something about praying for people that opens our hearts to them, and I’d like to speak frankly with you. From a place of concern.” She angled her head slightly, her fine eyebrows lifting. “May I?”

Etta wanted to hear what Mrs. Day would say. Without a moment’s hesitation, Etta said, “Please.”

“Leo expressed grave concerns about your husband’s future ability to provide for your family unless he’s delivered from the illness that has befallen him.”

Such a kind way of phrasing the situation. Etta had wondered how people would react if they knew about Claude’s mental state. At least the Day family didn’t hold contempt. The realization gave her hope that others might be compassionate, as well.

“It’s my understanding that this type of illness requires a doctor who specializes in psychiatry. Leo mentioned there is a psychiatric hospital in Pueblo. I presume you’ve looked into it?” Etta nodded. Martha patted Etta’s hand. “And may I also presume you found the costs beyond your means?”

Martha’s straightforward yet kind approach garnered Etta’s complete trust. She sighed and admitted, “The evaluation alone is more than we could afford. A lengthy stay, which would most likely be recommended, is completely out of reach. We had to lay the idea to rest, although it was devastating to do so. Claude wants to get better, but he needs help. I keep praying for God to make the way for us, like He did for the children of Israel by dividing the Red Sea.” When would He finally answer? Tears threatened, but she blinked them away. “I won’t stop praying until Claude is my Claude again and Jennie has her daddy back.”

For several seconds, Martha sat staring at Etta, her face pinched into a thoughtful frown. Then she sat up and huffed out a soft breath. “Etta, is it imperative that your family remains in Canon City?”

Etta drew back. “Why do you ask?”

“A few months ago, a representative from the University of Denver spoke at our church about a new program being offered to train doctors in the field of psychotherapy. Are you familiar with the term?” She spoke in a rush, as though the words had lain dormant, waiting for an opportunity to be spilled. “The recognition that mental illness is actually a medical condition isn’t new. The ancient Greeks acknowledged the connection. But it’s taken time for the idea to gain popularity among doctors who treat patients with mental issues.”

She leaned forward slightly, her eyes lively. “Two doctors named Sigmund Freud and Josef Breuer combined forces, so to speak, and are credited with formulating effective methods of psychotherapy.”

Etta found the information interesting, but she was puzzled. “What does all this have to do with your question about us remaining in Canon City?”

Martha laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. “Forgive me, Etta. Paul often teases me about getting overly excited about new ideas. You see, the program organizers are seeking patients to help their trainees hone their skills in psychotherapy. Treatment will be given under the instruction and supervision of a licensed psychotherapist, but there will be no charge to the patient.”

Etta’s mouth fell open. “Free? They would treat Claude for free?”

“If he qualifies for the program.” Martha’s eyes glowed with excitement. “Based on what Leo has shared with us, I believe he’d be accepted. Of course, it would mean relocating your family to Denver, but it might be worth it if Claude received the help he needs to, as you put it, be your Claude again.”

Etta considered what Martha had told her. She’d lived most of her life in Canon City. Her only remaining relatives beside Claude and Jennie worked and lived there. She’d never considered living anywhere else. Yet her scalp was tingling as if lightning had struck. Was God dividing her Red Sea?

Leo

Leo pointed ahead. “There it is.” The words scraped past his dry throat. They’d done little talking on the trek up the ridge. He wanted to engage Jennie in conversation. How many more opportunities would they have, especially if she moved into town? She wouldn’t be at the cabin to join the excursions. If the site had been destroyed, Father would most likely want Leo to go back to Denver with him and Mother. But Daisy talked nonstop the first half mile, all of it to Jennie. Leo didn’t have the heart to tell her to give someone else a chance to talk. Not on her birthday. By the time she’d run out of things to say, they’d been walking long enough they focused their energy on clambering up the steepest part of the ridge. Now here they were, within a stone’s throw of the site. If there was still a site.

Daisy left Jennie’s side and grabbed Leo’s wrist with both hands. “What is it? Is it the bones?”

He offered a wobbly smile, hoping she wouldn’t be disappointed. “It’s the tent we used to protect the bones, Daisy. Do you see it?”

She squinted ahead. “You mean that wadded-up green thing?”

Leo laughed. He couldn’t help it—she looked so disgusted. “That’s exactly what I mean.” He rose up on tiptoe and spotted someone moving around on the far side of the pile of crumpled canvas. Mr. DeWeece, already at work. Leo’s pulse pattered. There must be something left to work on. “Come on. Let’s go see what Mr. DeWeece is doing.”

The four of them trudged forward, Leo torn between running and delaying. To his surprise, Jennie passed him and half trotted to the far side of the tent. He watched her face for a hint. She was always expressive. By her reaction, he’d know whether there was something worth salvaging.

She looked down, her eyes widened, and she clapped both hands over her mouth.

Leo stifled a groan. Elation or dismay? Which did the action mean?

Then she flung her arms outward and yelled to the sky, “Thank You!”

Somehow he knew to whom she spoke. He clasped Daisy’s hand and took off at a clumsy run, pulling her along with him. They rounded the downed tent, and Leo laid eyes on the row of vertebrae. The rain had forced dirt down the hill and covered parts of what he’d exposed, but points signifying cervical or dorsal vertebrae remained visible.

Mr. DeWeece was on his knees, a brush in hand. He waved at Leo, then stood, laughing. “I’m so glad the tent was up before the storm blew in. When I got here, the cover was lying over the site like a mother robin spreading her wings across a nest. It doesn’t look as if the hail battered it. Or, if it did, the canvas offered enough protection.” He shook his head, his gaze drifting to the line of vertebrae. “To be honest, Leo, I feel we were granted a small miracle. As hard as the rain came down, the whole spine could have been buried by sludge. The bones we exposed could have been broken to bits by the hail. But here it is, seemingly intact, under a protective barrier of mud and canvas.”

Leo couldn’t stop smiling. He nodded. “It’s…wonderful.”

DeWeece laughed again and threw his arm around Leo’s shoulders. “And now that you’re here, we’ve got work to do. Unless”—he shot a glance at Father and Daisy—“you just wanted to show your father and sister the site.” He gave Leo’s shoulder a pat and dropped his arm. “It was a long walk for the little one. She’s probably ready to go back.”

Daisy bounced in place. “No! I want to find more bones. Bigger bones. Bones as big as an elephant!”

DeWeece chuckled. “Believe it or not, you’d have to line up six elephants end to end to be as long as one brontosaurus.”

Daisy’s eyes grew round, and her mouth fell open. “I would?”

The man nodded. “People wonder why we don’t see living creatures anymore like the ones buried here on this ridge. Can you imagine how much food an animal so big would eat every day?”

“More than Leo, that’s for sure,” Daisy said with confidence, and everyone laughed.

“Definitely more than Leo.” He crouched down to Daisy’s level, his expression serious. “There probably wasn’t enough food for these large creatures to eat, and they eventually died out. It’s sad to think about an animal God created no longer living. And it isn’t just the dinosaurs that aren’t still here. There are other animals, such as the Dodo bird and a sea creature called Stellar’s sea cow, that are also extinct.”

Daisy’s lips formed a sad pout. “What happened to them?”

DeWeece rubbed his finger under his nose, then glanced at Leo. “Well, people didn’t do what they were supposed to. You see, when God gave man dominion over the animals He created, He meant for us to protect the animals—to take care of them. When we don’t do what God expects of us, there are consequences. Sometimes the consequences mean an animal can’t survive anymore. That’s bad for the animal, but you know what? It’s also bad for us.”

Daisy tilted her head. “How?”

Father moved up closer to Leo as the businessman went on.

“We’ll never be startled by a Dodo bird waddling out from the bushes or watch a Stellar’s sea cow float in the ocean. The only way we even know they once existed is there are written reports about them and we have their skeletons to prove they were real.” He put his arm around Daisy and drew her a little closer to the vertebrae forming a chunky picket fence in the dirt. “Your big brother is helping others know that dinosaurs were real. Maybe it will encourage people to take good care of the animals on the earth so we’ll never have only bones to look at. We’ll be able to enjoy seeing the living animal, flying or swimming or leaping from rock to rock on the mountainside, the way God designed them to live.”

Daisy nodded, her pixie face pursed into a determined scowl. “I’ll always take good care of animals. I promise.”

DeWeece smiled. “I know you will.” He straightened and held out the wire brush. “Leo, do you want to help your sister uncover a bone?”

Jennie hurried close. “I’d like to uncover one, too. My family and I are moving from the cabin, so this is probably the last time I’ll get to be up here. I’d like to have a hand in exposing the skeleton, even if it’s just a tiny bit.”

“Of course.” DeWeece removed another brush from his pack and gave it to Jennie. He stepped aside as Jennie and Leo knelt on either side of Daisy. “So, you’re moving to Canon City, hmm?”

“Yes, sir.”

“When?”

A sigh left Jennie’s throat, one that held both longing and acceptance. “As soon as we get everything packed.”

“I see.”

Leo’s senses went on alert. The man sounded a bit too nonchalant. He guided Daisy’s hand in scraping away dirt, his ears tuned to DeWeece’s voice.

“My friend Wilmer Cambrie asked if I’d have space in my warehouse for your family’s belongings, but he didn’t mention when the items would arrive.”

Jennie shrugged. “In the next day or so, I reckon.” She sat up, flipping dirt onto Daisy’s hand. Daisy shook it loose and kept scraping. “I almost forgot…I’m working on the drawings of the individual bones Leo and I found. I still have three more to draw. Mama and I started packing, but I kept the bones away from our boxes. If you’d like to take the finished sketches and their matching bones home with you today, please come by our cabin. I’ll have them ready for you.”

Mr. DeWeece nodded. “Thank you, Jennie. I’ll do that.”

Jennie returned to brushing, and Father and Mr. DeWeece stood to the side and chatted softly. Leo soaked up every detail of the moment—the feel of his sister’s small hand in his, the scent of moist earth stirred by the brushes, the sounds of wind and rasping tools and murmured voices. Occasionally, he glanced Jennie’s way, and nearly every time, she peeked in his direction and caught him looking. With each exchange of glances, they smiled, she blushed, and his heart caught. He was going to miss her.

After a half hour or so of digging, Daisy sat back on her heels and swiped her hand over her forehead. “Father? I’m tired and thirsty and starting to feel cranky.”

Leo stifled a snort of amusement. She might be only just-turned-ten years old, but she knew her own mind.

Father strode over and helped her up. “You’re ready to leave?”

“Yes, sir.” She yawned, then shook her head hard, making her wind-tossed blond curls flop. “When we get back to the hotel, I would like some cake.”

Father’s chortle rumbled. “I believe that can be arranged.” He looked at Leo. “Are you staying?”

Leo had no idea he’d be given a choice. He was tempted to stay, but this was Daisy’s birthday. She wanted to spend it with him. He should go. He suspected that he and Father would take turns carrying Daisy down to the Wards’ cabin. He stood and brushed off his knees. “No, I’ll go with you.” Jennie stood, too, and Leo asked, “Are you coming?”

“Yes. Mama needs my help. I should go back.” She sent a lingering look at the exposed bones. “Mr. DeWeece, I hope I’ll have the chance to draw it all when you’ve uncovered the whole thing.”

The man took the brush from her hand, then squeezed her shoulder. “You will. I’ll see to it.” He smiled. “I can’t finish the article without my illustrator’s help.” He bid them farewell, knelt next to the bones, and returned to work.

Daisy yawned again. “Let’s go, Leo.” He took her hand. Father took the other, and then Jennie fell in step next to Leo. Together, they headed down the ridge.