Silent Star (6 page)

Estella refused to move. “Please hear me out. I may be an old woman, but I know what the Good Book says.”

Pastor Bailey looked to the ground. “Mrs. Nelson, I know what it says too. I’ve tried to help this congregation, but as a fairly new pastor they often treat me like an outsider—even a child. I suppose because of my youth that’s to be expected. Still . . .”

“Pshaw,” she said, shaking her head. She got out of the car and stared the pastor dead in the eye. “You’re called by the Lord. He expects you to walk boldly. I’m new to this congregation too. Howard and I used to attend church across town, where his mother and father brought him up. Still, I know what I know and I’m not afraid to tell folks that they’re making a mistake in taking out their miseries on one another. These are hard times and we need to be working together, not tearing each other apart.

“The reports I read said the 28th Infantry Division has suffered great loss. That’s going to devastate this town, as you already know. You’re dealing with individual families right now. Encourage them to reach out to those who are hurting as much as they are. If they do this, their own pain will lessen. I know from experience that this is true.”

“Well . . . it certainly makes sense.”

“Of course it does. You can’t spend too much time feeling sorry for yourself when you’re caught up helping other folks with their problems.”

They’d reached the door and Estella was anxious to get back to Andy. “Would you like to come in, maybe visit with Andy for a moment and pray for him?”

The pastor looked embarrassed. “I’m ashamed to admit I didn’t think of it myself. Still, I wouldn’t want to upset him.”

“Andy’s barely even conscious,” Estella replied. “I don’t think he’ll mind that you’ve come to pray for him.”

They entered the house, now considerably warmer than when Estella had left it. She noted that the water had almost completely boiled out from the cast iron kettle. “I’ll need to add more water to this before we can see Andy.”

“Here, let me help. I can get the water while you get out of your coat and overshoes.”

Estella nodded and allowed him to take over the duties. She had just come back from hanging up her coat when Pastor Bailey completed filling the kettle. “Is there anything else I can do before we see Andy?”

“No, but when we’re done, if you like, you could fetch me more coal. I would imagine there’s a bin in the basement.”

The young minister pushed back an errant lock of hair and nodded. “I’d be pleased to do just that.”

They made their way to Andy’s room. Estella was disturbed to see that the boy hadn’t so much as changed position from when she’d left him.

“Andy,” she called softly and put her hand to his forehead. “He’s running a high fever. I’ll have to work to get that down
as soon as possible. Help me pull off this heavy quilt. He’s just baking himself under all these covers.”

Andy opened his eyes but said nothing. He didn’t seem to even see Estella or the pastor.

“Poor boy was delivering telegrams in the snow yesterday. In fact, he’s been out in the weather every day and probably has not bothered even once to take precautions to keep from getting sick.”

“I’m sure you’re right. When you’re young, you scarcely think of sickness and death.” He paused and shook his head. “Well, at least that was true before the war. Now I’d imagine most every young person thinks of it. Why don’t we pray.”

Estella reached for the man’s hand and then for Andy’s. “I think that would be just the thing.”

****

That afternoon, Estella made the decision to return to her house and gather a few things in order to spend the night at Andy’s. His breathing was still labored, and she was concerned that he would need to see a doctor if the fever didn’t pass soon.

Leaving Andy in a deep sleep, she trudged the several blocks to her home with her heart quite heavy.
Oh, Lord, give Andy the will to live. Help him to see his importance in this world. Let him know that at least one person here loves and cares for him.

She prayed for Pastor Bailey too. She knew the man needed God’s strength in order to take on the burden thrust upon the shoulders of this community. “It can’t be easy to preach encouragement and hope when things seem so far from good.”

“Mrs. Nelson!” Timmy called, waving from his front porch stoop. “Can we come over now?”

Estella groaned. She’d totally forgotten about the boys. “Timmy, I tell you what, let me come over there. I have something to take care of and I can’t stay long.”

She saw the boy’s crestfallen expression. “I’ll bring you both an extra piece of cake to make up for it.”

He perked up at this. “Okay. I’ll tell my mama you’re coming over.”

Estella hurried into her house and took up a small suitcase. Throwing in her nightclothes and personal items, she continued to pray.

“Lord, I want your will in all of this, but if it matters, my will is that Andy recover and learn to be happy again. You and I often see things the same way, so I’m praying that this is one of those times.”

With her packing complete, Estella took up the remaining cake, grabbed a copy of
A Christmas Carol,
and headed next door. Timmy was waiting for her.

“Ma says you’re to ’scuse the mess.”

Estella laughed. “Your mama doesn’t need to worry about such things.” Just then the boy’s mother appeared.

“Oh, Mrs. Nelson, Timmy said you were bringing cake over. You sure didn’t need to do that.”

“Now, now, Lois, I made the cake and surely can’t eat the entire thing. I want you all to have it. I’ve saved a couple of pieces for another friend.” She handed the dish over. “I also wanted to let you know that I’ll be gone tonight—maybe a couple of nights. I’m going to tend a sick friend.” She looked down at Timmy and Jimmy. “Boys, I’m so sorry to change our plans, but a friend of mine has come down sick. I need to go take care of him, but I’ve brought you a copy of one of my favorite books.” She handed the volume to Timmy. “Maybe your mother would help you with the reading. The story is quite good and it’s about Christmas.”

“I’ll be happy to read it to the boys,” Lois said, then glanced past Estella. “How far do you have to go?”

“Over to Chester Street.”

“That’s a long way and the sun is about to set. Are you sure you want to walk all that way? My Charlie will be home from work at five and he could drive you over.”

“No, my friend is all alone. I’m afraid he might grow worse if I leave him too long.”

“I understand. Now, don’t you worry about a thing. The boys and I will keep a good eye on your place.”

“Thank you, Lois. I knew I could count on you.” Estella started to leave, then remembered the book. “Timmy, when my friend gets well and I get back, I’ll sit down with you boys and we’ll talk about the book. I’ll tell you all about my favorite parts and you and Jimmy can tell me about yours. And maybe I’ll make us some Christmas cookies.”

“Oh boy!” Timmy exclaimed. “That would be a whole bunch of fun. I love cookies.”

Estella laughed and leaned down. “Just between you and me . . . so do I.” She winked and straightened. “Thank you again, Lois. The Good Lord knew what He was doing when He brought your family to this neighborhood.”

The woman blushed. “Well, we don’t have a lot of money, but we know how to be charitable with our time and efforts.”

“And I believe that’s far more important than just about anything else you could offer.”

Leaving Lois and the boys, Estella hurried home to retrieve her things. Before heading out she remembered the sparseness of Andy’s cupboards and grabbed a few of her own supplies to use for dinner and breakfast.
No sense taking undue advantage of the boy,
she mused.
Besides, I’m not at all fond of pork and beans.

Andy was still sleeping when she returned. The house was dark because Estella hadn’t thought to put on a light. She was grateful when the electricity came on without pause. Some folks in town had lost power, and she’d not even bothered to check earlier to see if Andy was one of them.

Slipping down the hall to check on Andy, Estella wondered at the life he led. People avoided him, and his whole family was gone.
He must be very lonely, indeed,
she thought.
I know exactly how that feels, Lord.

She gently touched Andy’s forehead and sighed. He was
still hot. Burning from the fever and showing no sign of recovery. She’d once heard a doctor say that a person had to want to get well. Had Andy given up
wanting
to get well?

Estella whispered a prayer and went to work preparing soup and tidying the kitchen. Spying the spice rack, she was delighted to find a jar of dried garlic. It would add a wonderful flavor to her creation. She hummed a Christmas song as she worked, feeling so very useful and happy. This was as God intended it, she thought. No one should ever live off by himself. It wasn’t healthy.

In the evening, Andy’s boss from the telegraph office stopped by. Estella explained the situation and was relieved to find the man so understanding. After he’d gone, Estella settled down to do some mending for Andy. Earlier in the day she’d washed some clothes for him and in doing so, she found that many items were in desperate need of repair.

I like doing this,
she thought as she worked to darn a hole in one of Andy’s socks.
I like to be useful—to be needed.
She sewed until it was nearly nine o’clock. Putting her things aside, Estella stifled a yawn. She wondered if Andy would mind her being here—spending the night. She’d already decided to sleep on the couch instead of the spare bed. Andy might not like the idea of someone else sleeping in his mother’s room.

She quietly crept into his room and felt his forehead. He seemed a little cooler. Squeezing out a washcloth, Estella wiped his face and arms. Andy moaned and opened his eyes.

“Mrs. Nelson?”

“Yes, it’s me. You just rest, deary. You’ve a high fever and I’m going to take care of you.”

Andy closed his eyes. “I knew you would care.”

Estella had no idea what he meant by the words, but since he’d already fallen back asleep, she had no chance to ask him about it. Perhaps he was dreaming about something else and Estella just happened into the picture when she began wiping him down.

She smiled at him, his red hair sticking out this way and
that. He seemed so peaceful, and yet she knew he bore much turmoil deep within.
Lord, he needs to learn to trust you. To know that you are there for him, that you care, even when the rest of the world walks away.

She bent down and kissed his forehead as she would have if he’d been her son. “Sleep well, Andy.” She turned to leave but paused at the door. He seemed so lost—so frail. “Please get well, Andy. I need you. I can’t begin to explain why, but I do.”

****

Three days later, Estella praised God when she found Andy sitting up in bed and feeling much better. His color had returned, giving a healthy glow to his freckled face.

“Are you hungry?” she asked as she came into the room with toasted bread, two fried eggs, and a cup of coffee.

“I feel like I could eat a dozen eggs,” Andy declared as she put the tray in front of him.

“Well, two will have to do. There is a war on, don’tcha know,” she said in mock disgust.

Andy actually smiled at this. It warmed Estella to see him looking so good. He dug into the food with great gusto. Estella sat down on the edge of the bed and smoothed the covers.

“I’m so happy to see that you’re feeling better. I thought I might lose you that first night. Your boss stopped by to find out why you hadn’t come to work, and I told him I wasn’t sure you’d even make it through the night.”

“I don’t suppose I would have if you hadn’t taken such good care of me,” Andy answered between bites. He hesitated, seeming to struggle with the words. Andy finally whispered, “Although, I have to be honest, I didn’t much care for sticking around.”

Estella nodded. “I felt that. I don’t think I’ve ever prayed so hard for anyone in my life as I’ve prayed for you.”

Andy looked at her for a moment, then put down his fork. “Why? Why did you pray for me like that? Why did you come here and take care of me?”

Estella wondered how she could possibly explain. “I felt so strongly that you needed me.” She choked back her emotion. “And, Andy, I need to be needed.”

Before either one could say anything more, a knock came at the door. Estella pointed at the tray. “Eat and I’ll see who it is.”

She dabbed at the dampness in her eyes.
Lord, he can’t possibly understand how much I want for him to heal—in his heart as well as his body. He can’t possibly know how much this has helped to revive my spirits too.

Estella opened the door to find Mary Beth Iseman. She knew the girl from church and was delighted to see such a welcoming smile. “Why, hello. Come in out of the cold,” Estella told the girl.

“Mrs. Nelson! What are you doing here at Andy’s house?” The young woman pulled off her scarf to reveal straight blond hair neatly pulled back and tied with a red ribbon.

“We got acquainted in the cemetery a couple weeks ago. How do you know Andy Gilbert?” Estella asked, reaching out to take the girl’s coat.

“We went to school together, only he had to quit when he was a freshman. I was a year behind, but I always thought he was such a sweet guy.”

“Andy is a sweet guy.” Estella couldn’t have agreed more. He was a sweet, gentle soul who deserved to love and be loved. She hung the coat up and returned to where Mary Beth stood warming her hands by the stove.

“So is Andy here?”

“He is. He’s been very sick—influenza, I believe. He’s much better now, however. Would you like to visit with him?”

Mary Beth nodded. “I feel like I need to talk to him. My mother . . . well . . . she wasn’t very nice to him the other day, and I feel like I should apologize for her.” She lowered her head. “I know a lot of folks aren’t very nice to Andy. I know why too.”

“Mary Beth, you’re such a sweet girl. I know it would do
Andy a world of good to have you visit. You just come along with me.”