Wings of a Dream

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Authors: Anne Mateer
influenza. Mrs. Crenshaw’s been helping out. I imagine she’s at home.”
    Ollie grabbed my hand and pulled me in the direction of the first small house beyond the dry goods store. “It’s my friend Mildred’s house.” A rare smile lit the girl’s face.
    “Thank you,” I called as the preacher plodded away in the opposite direction. A moment later we stood at the Crenshaws’ door. Ollie knocked. I knocked. The boys made no end of little-boy racket. Yet no one appeared. Just as I determined to go wait in front of the store again, the door creaked open. A woman appeared, hair disheveled, face white.
    “Yes?” That one word seemed to steal every breath from her body.
    I stepped back, pulling Ollie with me, glad that something in the yard had captured the boys’ attention. “Please, ma’am, we’re looking for Mrs. Crenshaw.”
    She nodded once.
    My breath came in quick gasps. “I’m Rebekah Hendricks, Adabelle Williams’s niece. I’m expecting a letter. From my daddy.” And Arthur, I said in my head.
    Mrs. Crenshaw leaned her head against the doorframe, her body sinking toward the floor. I handed Janie to wide-eyed Ollie just as the sick woman crumpled in a heap.
    “Ollie.” I held my voice steady instead of letting my panic spew. “Take the others and wait for me at Mr. Crenshaw’s store.”
    “But—”
    I clenched my teeth. “Just go.”
    With a huff, she marched toward her brothers. “Come on.”
    I should have scolded her for barking at them like that, but maneuvering Mrs. Crenshaw to her feet occupied my full attention. Already tears pushed at my eyes as Mrs. Crenshaw fought for breath. I hadn’t known enough to be frightened around Aunt Adabelle. But now I did. I didn’t want this woman’s fever to jump into my body, but neither could I leave her where she lay.
    Easing the woman’s arm around my neck, I pulled her up with me, securing her with my arm about her waist. A little girl in a nightgown appeared, flush-cheeked and barefooted. Mildred, I assumed.
    “Go back to bed, honey. I’m putting your mama back to bed, too.” The girl obeyed. I practically carried her mother to the bedroom, laid her down, and covered her with a quilt. Her eyes spoke gratitude.
    “I’ll wait for your husband at the store. He should be back soon.”
    She closed her eyes. I crept from the room and ran from the house. Halfway to the store, I stopped. The newspaper article I’d read encouraged washing your hands often and staying away from those with flu-like symptoms. I rounded the corner of town wondering if I dared allow the children around me now. What if one of them fell ill? Yet they’d all been with Aunt Adabelle. As had I. Maybe God would keep us well.
    Mr. Crenshaw stepped outside his store.
    I pushed ahead of the little ones. “Your wife . . .” I glanced over my shoulder and rubbed my hands against my skirt. “Your wife is very ill. I put her in bed. I didn’t know what else to do.”
    Janie reached for me. Dan clung to my skirts. Mr. Crenshaw put a hand on my shoulder and opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He ducked his head for a moment before his watery gaze met mine. His chest rose as if drawing in a wagonload of air. His arm dropped to his side, his gaze fixed on his house.
    “Go home, Miss Hendricks. It’s the best place for y’all to be.” He closed the door to his store before he plodded down the steps and across the road toward his home.
    My chest ached from holding back the full force of my fears. Reading about the scourge in the newspaper had been one thing. Seeing the Spanish Lady take its toll on an entire town made my knees weak. I practically dragged the children to keep up with me on the walk home.
    When I glimpsed the mailbox in front of the house, I ran. My greedy hands searched inside. My fingers brushed paper. Mail. On top of the newspaper I’d come to expect, a letter from home.
    But that would have to wait. Hot water was needed. And lye soap. I wouldn’t take

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