A Simple Faith: A Lancaster Crossroads Novel (10 page)

H
aley sat staring from the side of the highway, her car idling as she reeled from the horrible collision that had just taken place before her eyes. The purr of a ringing line in her ear amplified her panic. She’d dialed 911, right? Why weren’t they answering?

When someone came on the line, she reported the accident, giving the nearest mile marker. “There were two cars involved. A dark-colored SUV just came right across the double line from the other direction.”

She could still see the searing pair of headlights carving an unnatural path across the yellow line. It was the oddest sight, especially on a clear, bone-dry day like today. At first, she had thought her eyes were going buggy, but then the SUV hit the van, catching the front end with such force that both cars had spun in a cloud of dust and sparks.

“I can’t believe a car would just cross the line like that,” she said,
her voice trembling at the thought of a random universe in which one stray turn could cause so much damage.

“Is there visible damage to both vehicles?”

“Yes, well, I think so.” She twisted around, looking for the dark SUV. “The passenger van is definitely damaged, but I can’t see the SUV. It seems to have vanished.”

“A possible hit-and-run,” the woman said in a very even tone.

“I don’t know.” Haley cut the engine and threw open the door. She was okay. She had been spared. But that van had taken a terrible hit. “I’m going to see if there’s anything I can do to help the passengers in the van.”

“Ma’am, please take caution if you leave your vehicle.”

“Yes, yes, I will. Just get an ambulance here, please.”

“They’re on their way.”

Haley was already running along the shoulder of the road, grateful for her clogs and for dry pavement, when she slid the cell phone into her pocket. A car passed, moving slowly but coming within inches of the van. She had hoped that the emergency flashers on her car would warn drivers to slow down.

A door on the side of the van opened and a large man jumped to the road bed. He was a young man dressed all in black with a sort of Dutch boy haircut just at the ears. An Amish man. His gait was a bit uneven as he ran toward her.

“Do you have a cell phone?” he called to her. “We need help. Ambulances and doctors.”

“I called them already. I’m a nurse,” she said, realizing that wasn’t entirely true, but … whatever.

He stopped running and gestured toward the van. “A blessing from Gott. Please, come help Jacob.”

Already, people were spilling out from the van behind him. Two older men. A man bolstering a crying woman. A tall young man in
his late twenties. When a small girl jumped out, Haley thanked God that a child had survived; a moment later she realized the young woman was older than she thought—a teenager—but a little person.

“He’s in here, on the floor of the van,” the large man said, directing her to the open side door. “He’s having trouble breathing.”

It occurred to Haley that she had no stethoscope—no tools in hand, not even a first-aid kit—but when she looked down at the man struggling to breathe on the floor of the van, the basic protocol came to her.

ABC. Clear the Airway. Make sure he’s Breathing. Support Circulation.

She leaned over the man, noting his white beard and wrinkled skin. He had to be seventy or so. “My name is Haley and I’m going to try and help you. Can you answer some questions?”

“Yes,” he gasped.

He was conscious; that was a good sign.

“Is there something in your throat? Something blocking the airway?” she asked.

“Nay. It’s down lower.” He patted his chest with one withered hand.

“Okay.” She turned back to the young man who had summoned her and asked his name.

“Ruben Zook.”

“I’m Haley. Ruben, can you go back to my car and get my medical bag? It’s just a black backpack in the backseat.”

“I’ll bring it,” he said, backing away.

Haley took the injured man’s pulse, which was rapid, but that was no surprise. His labored breathing was a huge concern, and she worried about a punctured lung or even a lung collapse.

And internal injuries.

Her mind raced back through her medical training as she reached
for ideas on how to help him. But nursing school wasn’t focused on this type of emergency care. She had no real tools beyond her stethoscope. There was no doctor, no sterile equipment … no Dr. Swanson barking orders.

But this was a random universe, where a shiny dark mass of metal haphazardly smashed up a van full of people.

She turned back to the elderly man, leaning down low so that she could see his face as she pressed a hand to his cheek. “I know you’re in pain, Jacob. Just keep breathing as best you can, okay? You’re doing great. You’re doing great.”

10

I
t was a miracle.

To be able to open her eyes, unbuckle her seat belt, and slide out of her seat. To walk and talk and see the beautiful orange and purple flame of sky beyond the smoking wreck of the front of George’s van. Gott had blessed her in this terrible moment.

Sure, she couldn’t stop shaking like a leaf in the wind, but that didn’t stop her from breathing the crisp air of twilight as she went to the passenger door of the van to try to help Dat open it.

George was already there, tugging and probing the dented metal. “Would you look at that? It’s a wonder your father wasn’t hurt with a hit like that.”

“Can you get it open?” Elsie asked.

“Looks like the latch is all gummed up.”

“It’s bashed in,” Elsie called to Dat, not sure how clearly he could hear through the smashed window that had stayed in place, a crinkled, crackled panel that caught the fading light.

There came another thump from inside the door.

Hands in his pockets, George grimaced at the crumpled door. “It’s not going to budge. Go tell your dat to climb around over my seat.”

“You stay there. I’ll come around,” she hollered, then hurried around the battered van.

George had left the driver’s side door open, and she peered into the front seat. “Dat? You need to climb out this way.”

She waited, but there was no answer.

Buzzing with adrenaline, she struggled to get a handhold to make the steep climb up into the driver’s seat. It was covered with powder from the big bags that now draped, half deflated, over the steering wheel. Air bags.

Her father sat there calmly, knocking on the passenger door.

“Dat! I guess you didn’t hear me. The door won’t open. George says to climb out this way.”

“Is that right?” Thomas squinted at her, as if recognizing her for the first time. “Elsie girl! Are you all right?”

“Ya …” she said hesitantly. Her father had asked the same question when she’d leaned forward to check on him, just before she’d hopped out of the van. “I’m a little shook up, but praise Gott, I’m alive.”

“I can’t get my door open,” he told her. “Can you help me? Tell George.”

Alarm made the hairs on the back of her neck tingle. They’d had this conversation. Maybe Dat was in shock.

“Dat, George can’t get the door open. Come out this way. Just climb over the console here.”

He frowned down at the barrier between the seats, glanced up at her and smiled. A big, wholehearted smile, the likes of which she hadn’t seen since the day he announced that he was marrying Fanny Yoder after missing Mamm for so many years.

“Elsie girl! Are you all right?”

The air around her seemed to crackle with a warning. “I’m fine, Dat. But I’m worried about you.” She leaned closer, moving her hand along his arm and up his shoulder. “You look like you’re in one piece, but are you okay?”

“Fit as a fiddle.” His usual answer.

That was reassuring.

Until he turned to the glittering smashed window and tried the door handle. “Hmm. I can’t get the door open.”

“It’s okay, Dat.” She rubbed his shoulder as her throat grew tight with fear. “Dat, I think you should stay right where you are.”

He turned back to her and this time she noticed his eyes were so round and wide, the dark centers big as dimes. Something was wrong with her father.

“An ambulance,” she whispered under her breath. He needed to see a doctor. And this door … she hoped that the emergency team would be able to get it open.

“Elsie girl.” Dat smiled as he reached over and patted her cheek. “When did you get here?”

She bit her lower lip, fighting back tears.

Something was very wrong.

11

B
reathe. Swallow. Breathe. Haley had to suppress the loud thumping of her own racing pulse so that she could listen to Jacob’s heart and raw breath sounds with her stethoscope.

“How is he?” Ruben asked.

“I’m afraid to move him. It could make things worse. I wish there was more I could do, but the paramedics will have oxygen … and a backboard. His arm seems to be dislocated.” As she spoke, she slid off her coat and placed it over the old man. “But we can try to keep him warm. He’s in shock.” She could tell from his pale, clammy skin. “Honestly, you might all be in shock. We need to make sure no one wanders into the highway.”

“That’s right,” said the tall, handsome Amish man. “I got these flares from George, and I’m going to go back a few feet to set them up.”

“Good idea.” Haley nodded. “And that’s my car, the blue Geo. Maybe some of you folks should go back there and sit inside. The heater works pretty well, and you’ll be off the road.”

“Let’s go, Lizzy,” one of the men said. “Alvin and John … we’ll get out of the way so the ambulance can help those who need it.”

“You go, John. I’m going to stay with Jacob,” said one of the older men.

“Me, too.” The man named John brushed past Haley to climb around his friend and reclaim a seat in the van. “We’re not leaving you alone, Jacob.”

The other man climbed back in, and the couple headed back toward Haley’s car.

With a deep breath, Haley lifted her gaze from the prone man and noticed a young man and woman sitting in the second row seat. The young man’s eyes were closed, and the young woman—a girl, really—had tears streaming down her cheeks. Haley hadn’t thought to ask about other injuries, but now she realized that this young man was unconscious.

“Are you okay?”

The girl shook her head, and that was when Haley noticed that she was holding very tightly to the young man beside her, as if propping him up. “It’s James. Something was wrong with his seat belt and … when we crashed, he doubled forward and … I don’t know if he hit his head or what happened but he won’t wake up. Can you help him wake up?”