Christopher's Journey: Sometimes it takes being lost to find yourself

  Chapter 24

  Chris stepped out onto the porch to take in a fresh breath. The hot, stifling, early July air would not allow it, however. It was so thick, it was hard to inhale deeply.

  "What a day to have to go work the blacksmith shop." Chris complained as he walked back into the house.

  "I thought you were enjoying it." Hanna responded. "You've been working there for over a month, you should be used to it by now."

  "It's not that, it's just so hot today. The sun is barely up and I'm in a sweat." Chris said.

  "Well, it's got to be better outside than it is in here with this stove going. It would have made more sense to just spread jam over bread on a morning like this. The porridge should be ready in a few moments, but you have time to go tend the horses, goat and chickens.” She said giving her husband a slight but weary smile.

  Chris knew he had to go out and feed the animals but he wanted his priority to be to stay away from the field. It was Tuesday after all and he’d grown to learn that every Tuesday, a new penny was going to show up.

  He still had no idea what they meant but they were beginning to feel like a curse rather than a gift or a blessing. He was so unsettled with the five he’d found so far, he couldn’t bare to find anymore without knowing what he was supposed to be doing with them.

  Chris stopped halfway from the house and looked up at his glorious new barn. The people of the town had outdone themselves on this project, putting the structure up in one weekend. The debt was only half fulfilled but there it stood, in all it’s glory.

  Mr. Moyor was adamant about it going up as soon as possible as he felt bad for the horses and knew how much they, and the other animals Chris and Hanna dreamed of having, needed a home.

  It was a replica of the old barn but build almost 20 feet longer incase they wanted to get some cows, later in time.

  At that moment, however, Gus and Gertie were snug in their pen and they were able to get some new chickens and a goat. Another blessing bestowed upon them. Now they were able to have milk, cream and cheese along with their eggs.

  Knowing he only had a few minutes until breakfast was ready, he hurried through his chores, letting the animals out into their pens and throwing hay and grain for them to munch on throughout the day. He made sure their water troughs were filled and even spent a moment with each of the horses, petting their long manes.

  As he made his way out the back door to retrieve the grain bucket, a light blinded him. Without even thinking, he turned to the North edge of the field.

  A copper beam shined up and out in every direction from the edge of the field. Near but probably on that old maple stump. Just where and on this same day of the week, Chris had found the 1985, 1986, 1987, 1988 and 1989 pennies. They were going in order, but why?

  Chris ignored the shine for he knew exactly what it was but refused to accept the message, gift, curse, blessing... whatever those pennies meant.

  He forcefully grabbed the grain bucket and brought it into the barn, whipping it into the corner.

  “I have to calm down before I go back in or Hanna will have some questions.” Chris said to himself while taking deep breaths. “but why are you doing this to me, God? I get it! You’ve got my attention! Now tell me what these things mean. Please! Shout in my face if you have to.”

  Chris closed his eyes and opened his ears. “Baaa..aaa..” was all he heard. Their goat, Trudy, came up and nudged him right in the rear, pushing him forward.

  “Ugh!” Chris said throwing his hands up in the air.

  He returned to the house taking such deep breaths on the way that he was beginning to feel woozy. He walked in and took his place at the table. Hanna promptly served him his porridge along with a piece of bread with jam on it.

  “You decided on the bread and jam anyway, huh?” Chris said with a smile and teasing chuckle.

  “As soon as I mentioned it, I couldn’t get it out of my head. I have not been able to get enough jam lately, I’m sure glad it’s the time of year for picking and canning or I’d run us dry.” Hanna exclaimed, licking some blackberry jam from her fingers.

  The heat from the oven at the blacksmith shop was almost more than Chris could handle. The sweat poured from him faster than he could wipe it away. Mr. Kinsley forced him to take many breaks, sitting outside behind the building, close to the water barrel.

  “Gotta keep yerself hydrated. I’ve had many spells ‘cause it was so hot in there. Dries ya right out.”

  Although Chris enjoyed heating the metal that he was now a pro at smelting out of the ore’s, banging them into shape with a giant hammer and hearing it sizzle wildly in the water bucket, he was relieved to finally be able to clean the stalls. Not that the air was much cooler in there but it wasn’t the raging heat that poured from the oven.

  It seemed to take him a bit longer than usual to finish scooping, shoveling, then it was time to fork out the fresh hay. ‘I hope Hanna is not sitting at the mercantile waiting for me.’ He thought realizing his tardiness from picking her up. ‘I’m sure if she was in a hurry she’d come down to me. Knowing her, though, she’ll keep working until the end of the day.’

  Chris smiled at himself at the comment. That was Hanna alright. So kind and generous. Not a selfish bone in her body. She hardly ever complained and was able to find the light in most situations. It was her personality, her upbringing and of course her faith.

  Chris felt his faith struggling a bit as every instinct he had, he seemed to be rebelling against. He wanted to trust God and he wanted to whole heartedly and obediently follow the Lord but his frustration about not receiving any answers about those pennies seemed to deteriorate his passion.

  It had been a month and a half since they began arriving. Chris had made many requests and pleaded for an explanation and nothing. God seemed to be having fun with him. He couldn’t think of any other possibility, or he just didn’t want to admit any other possibility. The only other explanation was just too painful to comprehend.

  His thoughts tried to block out what was fighting it’s way in. ‘What if... what if it means....’

  “CHRIS!” he heard a shout from the large front door. “CHRIS! COME QUICK.. HANNA'S COLLAPSED!”

  “What happened?” Chris shouted as he and Mr. Moyor ran down the main road, kicking up a cloud of dust behind them.

  “She began to look a little pale and gaunt earlier and I urged her to take it easy but she insisted on continuing her duties.” Mr. Moyor began gasping on his words trying to catch his breath. “She was rolling and stacking the last of the fabric when she turned to me. The look in her eyes was of something I couldn’t even describe. Almost painfully pleading to me. I asked her if she was alright the very moment her eyes rolled back and... I tried to catch her Chris, but I didn’t make it in time. She may have hit her head.”

  They made it to the mercantile in record time. Chris jumped over all the steps leading up to the door and went crashing through. "Where is she?"

  "The missus took her into the back." Mr. Moyor exclaimed leading the way.

  Chris bolted through the back door into a small parlor seeing Hanna laying across a small sofa. She seemed conscious but groggy. He rushed to her side, banging his knees onto the floor.

  “Hanna? Hanna.” He tried hard to whisper so he would not startle her.

  “I’m ok.” she said in a weak voice. “I suppose the heat just got to me. I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll go hook up the horses and we’ll give you both a ride home.” Mr. Moyor graciously offered.

  Chris nodded then turned back to Hanna. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

  “I should be fine once we get home. I just need some water. My stomach is terribly upset.” she answered.

  “Maybe all of that jam wasn’t such a good idea after all.” Chris said jokingly but concern still dominated his voice.

  Hanna let out a breath trying to laugh at Chris’ joke but it
seemed too much for her.

  “You just go home and get some rest. Chris, you should wet down some towels and try to keep her cool while she’s lying down.” Mrs. Moyor suggested. “You don’t worry about coming in tomorrow dear.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t miss work just because of a spell. I’ll be fine.” Hanna stated trying to sit up.

  “You just listen to Mrs. Moyor and use tomorrow to rest. Perhaps I can get your mother or Priscilla to come and sit with you while I’m at work.” Chris said as his eyes grew wide. “Mr. Kinsley. He doesn’t even know I left or why, I wasn’t even done throwing hay, yet. Oh, he’s going to be furious with me.”

  “Don’t you worry about that, Chris. When Mr. Moyor takes you both home, I’ll go down and talk with Mr. Kinsley. He will understand.” Mrs. Moyor said in a calm voice. “You just concentrate on taking care of her. Heat stroke most likely.”

  The bumpy ride seemed hard on Hanna. She kept holding her hand up to her mouth and leaning over the side. She would just heave a few times then sit back up.

  “Have you eaten since breakfast?” Chris asked.

  Hanna shook her head, then put her hand up to her mouth again, puffing out her cheeks. She let out a long, drawn out breath, then sat back again.

  “Would you like to sit up in the rocking chair or go to bed?” Chris asked holding her arm, helping her up the porch steps.

  “I think.. I.. just want to go.. to bed.” she said, sounding labored.

  Chris laid her down, careful to only put a sheet over her. He stroked her hair back from her forehead, kissed her lightly, then exited the room. He tried to not worry for her but his first instinct was to ride straight through to Shorlin to fetch Dr. Blake.

  The realization of how Hanna acted toward him after the fire hit him. How awful he’d been toward her when she suggested calling for the doctor. She must have felt just as he was feeling at that moment. She may have had more cause to worry. Hopefully she only has a slight bug or a touch of heat stroke. She should be fine.

  “Chris..” a weak voice came from the bedroom. “I need help.”

  Chris leapt up from his rocker and bolted into the room. Hanna was bent over the side of the bed. “I need a pot or something and a glass of water.” she said through her heaves.

  Chris ran to get the items she needed, then scurried back into the room. “Shall I go get the doctor?” He asked hesitantly.

  “No, I’ll be fine. I think Mrs. Moyor was correct about the heat. I guess it was affecting me more than I realized. My stomach, though. It’s really upset. If I’d had anything for dinner, it would not be with me any more. I’m just going to lay back down for a while. Thank you dear.” She said reaching up for his face but not quite reaching it. She laid back and closed her eyes.

  Chris sat with her until she fell asleep. ‘I should go get more chores done, quickly, before she wakes up and needs me again.’ He thought, hoping that this sleep would be all she needed.

  He tip toed out the door, gently closing it behind him.

  The air outside was still thick. The heat may have been tolerable without such humidity. He rounded the barn and headed to the pen in the back, checking the horses water trough. It was near empty. They had either been working hard to stay hydrated or it had evaporated since this morning. Neither would have surprised him.

  He carried bucket after bucket from the well to the trough making sure it was topped off. As he poured the last of the final bucket, the gleam from the field once again caught his attention.

  Chris, for a moment, had actually forgotten that he purposely ignored that morning’s penny. His stomach sank at the thought that his disobedience could be why Hanna was so ill.

  “I don’t understand why God would take out His disappointment in me on Hanna. She’s done nothing wrong.” He said aloud. “That’s not the God I know.”

  The wonder still hung heavy around him. He needed to go get that penny. Maybe, just maybe.. the date will be different. A date from this time or perhaps they will start going backwards. He feared why the dates were inching up toward the date he had left that cruel world.

  He trudged across the field being careful not to step on any of the wheat that was flourishing beautifully. He reached the stump, closed his eyes and reached out. It was as if his hand was guided, knowing right where to go for he didn’t have to search, his fingers landed right on the hot coin. He picked it up and wedged open one eye.

  “1990!” He let out a long breath. “They’re still going up!” He was refusing to believe the possibility of what kept entering his mind. Perhaps it was stuck in his brain because that was God’s answer but it was not Chris’ answer and he did not want to believe God would do that to him.

  Just the thought of it, made Chris’ eyes well up. He squeezed them shut allowing a single tear to flow down his cheek.

  He shoved the penny into his coin pocket and turned to head back to the house. He exited the field, walked past the barn and up to the porch. “Chris.” he heard behind him. He turned to see Mrs. Browley walking up the road.

  “Oh, I didn’t even see you. I must be in my own little world.” Chris exclaimed almost feeling embarrassed.

  “That’s ok. I just came to see my Hanna. How is she doing?”

  Chris threw her a confused look wondering how she already knew what happened. Coar is a small place, though, news travels fast. A thought that Chris never would have imagined he would think... Coar, a small place?

  “Rebecca stopped by. She told me what had happened. She also wanted me to tell you that she spoke with Mr. Kinsley. He was fine with you leaving and said that you should spend tomorrow at home with your wife. I’m not sure why you were worried about him, he’s a good man and he’s always had a soft spot for Hanna. He’s concerned for her as well.”

  Chris nodded with thankfulness toward his mother in law. “Mrs. Moyor thinks she may have a bit of heat stroke.” he said to her.

  “Oh, that could be.” Mrs. Browley stated. “or it could be what I think it may be.” She winked at Chris then walked up the steps, into the house.

  ‘What on Earth could she think it could be?’ Chris thought with worry, once again, plaguing his mind. He had convinced himself that it was just the heat or not eating a proper dinner or over exhaustion. Things that can be cured by a lot of fluids and plenty of rest. Obviously, Mrs. Browley felt the need to rush over. What could be wrong with his love?

  Chris walked back into the house. The bedroom door was closed and he could hear the two women talking inside but couldn’t make out what was being said.

  He walked over toward the kitchen area, bent down and opened a small cupboard door. Reaching far into the back, he pulled out a small wooden tobacco box, carefully opening the lid. He reached down into his pocket and pulled out the 1990 penny placing it in the box with the others. The compass he received as a birthday gift from Ms. Rougen was wrapped in the cloth and the original thing to go into the box.

  “God is always your compass but this is a symbol of that guidance.” He recalled Ms. Rougen saying to him as she gave him the gift.

  ‘What kind of guidance are you giving me now?’ Chris thought again. ‘Is in coincidental that these pennies are being placed next to my symbol of God’s guidance. Are you trying to lead me somewhere? Please tell me so that I may prepare.’ He pleaded once more.

  He closed the small box and shoved it into the back of the cupboard. He didn’t have the box hidden until he started putting the pennies from the future into it. He wanted to tell Hanna what was going on but the same fears he’d had throughout the year had always stopped him. He didn’t want to look crazy. He didn’t want her to be upset with him, for thinking he was lying to her. Even if she believed him, she may be angry with his discretion or how she might see it, his deception.

  Just as he closed the cupboard door, the bedroom door opened. Mrs. Browley stepped out. A strange expression on
her face.

  “Is everything ok?” Chris asked not knowing if he wanted the answer.

  “It’s just what I figured it would be.” she said almost solemnly.

  Chris’ stomach tightened, his mind jumbled. What could it be? Should I worry about losing her? Should I go jump onto Gus and ride the night through to go fetch the doctor? Should I take her into Shorlin to the hospital?

  A panic almost consumed him until Mrs. Browley crossed the floor, touched his shoulder and spread a huge smile across her face.

  “Christopher, my son. Hanna is with child.”