Under the Dirt Sky by Callie J. Trautmiller

Author:Callie J. Trautmiller
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Written Dreams Publishing
Published: 2022-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 26

Pa had brought home a few dead rabbits to cook up.

Once cleaned out and skinned, Ma boiled one of the rabbits, filling the house with rich smells of real food again. Not just food, but meat.

How long had it been since we’d even smelled meat? Not since the rabbit round up months back. She set some of the liquid aside for future soup stock and added ground wheat to the rest for the jackrabbit porridge, minus the carrots or any kind of vegetable for that matter.

Moisture involuntarily seeped from the insides of my mouth as I savored the aroma in the kitchen, its steam billowing up from the stove and coating the insides of the windows in a slick of sweat as Pa and I silently slipped out to begin the overbearing task of shoveling the yard.

“Goldie!” I shouted into the stillness of the prairie, straining my ears, not wanting to believe she was gone. The hopeful part of me imagined her hopping playfully through the sand as she made her way toward me, her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth as she gave me a toothy grin as if to say, Here I am and aren’t I cute?

But she didn’t come.

Pa began to shovel out the back shed door. At this rate, it would take hours to get near the ground with a shovel. My heart was a lump of lead in my chest.

“Where’d you say Benny was found?” Pa asked over his shoulder. He threw another pile of sand to the side of the shed, dust clouds forming lazily above it.

“Somewhere near the shed,” my voice wavered. I rubbed my sleeve over my eye, the grit of the sand scratching my face.

“Well,” Pa said, scooping out another shovelful of sand. “Why don’t you help me? We’ll get the job done faster.”

He leaned against the shovel and wiped the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief, the dirt on his face settling in the worry lines of his forehead, making him appear much older than he was.

It was a grueling job, shoveling that sliding sand. It was hot, dusty work, despite Pa instructing me to pull my handkerchief over my mouth. The cloth of my shirt clung to my skin in patches of sweat and everything seemed to scratch. I imagined Ma sweeping out the house again, an endless task against the persistent dust. It settled on everything. Clothes in closets, cups in cupboards, the bedding, everything…

“You think Percy’s going to be okay?” I asked, trying to fight the tears.

Pa’s body stiffened, just for a moment, but enough for me to sense his uncertainty.

“He’s a strong kid,” he said, scooping another shovelful of sand.

In the past few days, we learned a couple more babies and elderly people had died from dust pneumonia. But Percy was different. He was strong. Healthy. Larger than life. With all of the mischief and reckless things he’d done, there’s no way he could die like this. Pneumonia? Not my Percy.

Reluctantly, we took a break and went in for supper when Ma called out to us.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.