Annie Oakley's Arc

Chapter 15 of 25

By the next afternoon Misty was well enough to nap on her own, and Annie walked out to clear her head. She took the path past the Grays' cabin and kept going, past a stand of pines she had not walked before. An A-frame cabin sat in a clearing, steep roof, wooden siding, a small porch with two steps. A red-haired girl sat on the top step with a bucket beside her and a hand pressed flat to her stomach. From inside came two thin, steady wails. Annie stopped at the bottom of the steps. The girl looked up. Her face was pale and damp. The bucket had been used. "I'm Annie. Do you need help?" "Temperance Joy. Yes." "Your stomach?" "Nervous. And gastritis. It comes when the boys are sick." She tipped her head toward the door. "They're sick." "Boys?" "Mine. Twins. I birthed them. They've had bad bellies since the day they came out. They catch every bug that passes." She said it the way another person would name the weather. Annie climbed the steps. "May I go in?" "Please." Inside, two yeti toddlers sat on a rag rug. One had soft white fur and a blue face and a sweater with fish on it. The other had a gray face and giraffe pajamas. Both were crying. A tin pail sat between them, half full. The room smelled of it. Annie knelt. "I'm Annie. I'm going to help." "Muffin," said the blue one, sniffling. "My tummy hurts. It hurts a lot." "Hank," said the gray one. "I threw up. I threw up twice. I couldn't get to the pail the second time." "That's alright. That's what rags are for." She found a clean cloth by the basin, wet it, and wiped Hank's face, then Muffin's. She moved the soiled pail to the porch and set out a clean bin from beside the stove. She filled a cup with water and let each of them sip. Temperance watched from the doorway with a hand still on her middle. "Sit down," Annie said. "You can't stand and hurt at the same time. I've tried it." Temperance sat on the step. Annie brought her a cup of water and a dry crust from the bread board. "Small bites. My doctor said empty makes it worse." "I know. I forget." "So do I." By the time the sun moved off the porch, both toddlers were asleep on the rug under a quilt. Temperance had eaten half the crust and kept it down. Her hand had come off her stomach. "Why did you come this way," Temperance asked. "I was walking. I wanted to tell someone about Jesus today. I didn't plan on a bucket." "Tell me tomorrow. Come back tomorrow." "I will." Annie walked home with the empty bin under her arm and a new door to knock on in the morning.