By the Creek (7 page)

Benjamin’s father was still breathing when they reached him, but his eyes were closed. David knew they had to get him out of there fast. There was a sled nearby with small pieces of wood piled on it. Obviously Benjamin and his dad had gathered what they could find prior to felling the tree, which lay half covered in snow about ten feet from Benjamin’s father. “Take the wood off the sled. We’ll tie your dad to it and use it to pull him to the car.”

Benjamin got to work, and David pushed snow away from Benjamin’s father, clearing a place for them to transfer him to the sled. Benjamin pulled the now empty sled over, and David positioned it next to Benjamin’s dad. Then they carefully shifted him onto the sled. It took some doing, but they got him onto it. David then placed his extra coat over the unconscious man’s chest before putting the blanket over him and tucking in around his sides. “Okay, let’s pull him to the car.”

Benjamin nodded, looking very worried, but David knew they had no choice. They both took the rope handle and slowly began to pull the sled forward. Thankfully, the field was flat and they were able to move the load easily. It took them ten minutes to get the sled to the edge of the field and another five minutes of exertion to get it and Benjamin’s dad up the slight incline without dumping him into the snow.

David opened the back door, and it took all their strength to lift Benjamin’s father into the car. David’s arms ached by the time they got him lying on the backseat. David closed the car door and rushed around to the driver’s side. “Leave the sled. We need to get him to a doctor.”

David got inside and started the engine, cranking the heat to max. Benjamin got in as well, and David slowly began to move down the road. “There’s an urgent-care center in Scottville. They should be able to look at your father and get any help needed.” He didn’t know what else to do. Going all the way to the hospital in Ludington would be impossible in this weather. “Check on your dad,” David said when he heard a soft groan from the backseat.

“It’s okay, Papa,” Benjamin said as he peered into the backseat. “We’re getting you some help.”

“What?” David heard from the backseat. “What is going on?”

David drove while Benjamin talked softly to his father, and after what seemed like forever, they pulled into the parking lot of the clinic. “Go inside and tell them we need help,” David told Benjamin, who looked at his dad before getting out of the car. A few minutes later, a number of people came out, and they got Benjamin’s father out of the backseat and into the building. David followed behind, finally allowing himself to think and breathe. He also checked his pockets and realized he’d left his phone on the counter. He went inside and asked to use the phone and made a call home.

“Where are you?” his mother demanded once she picked up the phone. David relayed everything that had happened and told her where he was. Once he’d calmed her down, David took a seat in the waiting area. After a while, a doctor came out and sat down beside him.

“I’m not at liberty to give you details, but I thought you should know that Mr. Killinger is going to be fine, thanks to you and his son. Your fast action getting him warm and then bringing him here probably saved his life.” The doctor nodded for emphasis, and David blinked a few times. He’d acted on instinct, nothing more. “We’re going to have him transported to the hospital by ambulance once we can get a snowplow to accompany them.” The doctor stood up and left him. David continued waiting until Benjamin came out from the back and sat down next to him.

“I’m going with Papa to the hospital. Will you tell my mama what happened?” Benjamin told him which house was his, and David agreed.

“Take care of your dad,” David said, and Benjamin nodded slowly before returning from where he’d come. David headed back out into the snow. It took even longer to get home, and he had to maneuver the car around a few drifts, but he finally made it into the driveway. His mother greeted him in the garage.

“Come inside and get warm,” his mother said.

“I will. But I have to tell Benjamin’s family what happened. He asked me to, and they’ll be worried about both of them.” David knew he was playing into his mother’s fears. “I’ll be fine. I’m bundled up, and Benjamin told me where to go.” David opened the door behind him.

“Take your phone, at least,” she scolded, handing it to him. David shoved it into his pocket and headed out.

It was already getting dark by the time he reached the end of the driveway. David walked down the side of the road, staying out of the snowdrifts, the usually well-traveled road empty and deserted, the only sound that of the wind. Paying attention to the landmarks Benjamin had told him about, David made his way through the small cluster of buildings with lamplight coming through the windows to the house Benjamin had specified and rapped on the wooden door. He hoped this was the right house. The walk was farther than it looked, and he needed to get home before he could see absolutely nothing at all.

The door was opened by a woman in a plain dark-blue dress. “Yes,” she said cautiously as children bunched at her back, young eyes peering around from behind her.

“Mrs. Killinger?” David asked, and she nodded her head once. “I’m David from across the street,” he began and pointed. “Mr. Killinger became ill when he was chopping wood, and Benjamin came and got me.” Her caution turned to concern, and she placed her hand over her mouth. “They’re both okay. I took Mr. Killinger to the urgent-care center in town, and they were going to get him to the hospital. They told me he was going to be okay. Benjamin is with him, but he asked me to pass on the message so you wouldn’t worry.”

“My husband consented to riding in a motorcar?” she asked and stepped back. “Please come in to warm up.”

David stepped inside the simple and rustic but surprisingly comfortable home, and she closed the door. Children looked at him with wide eyes, and Benjamin’s mother lifted the youngest one into her arms. “When we got to Mr. Killinger, he was lying in the snow and wasn’t conscious. Benjamin and I got him on the sled and pulled him to my car, and I drove them both into town. He woke up briefly while we were in the car, and the doctor said he was going to be okay.”

“Thank you,” she said, obviously relieved. “Can I get you something to warm you?” She was already moving toward the kitchen.

“No, thank you. I have to get home or my mother will worry.” David opened the door and stepped back out into the storm. The wind seemed to have picked up, and the snow seemed thicker than it had even a few minutes earlier. David pulled his phone out of his pocket and called his mother, turning his back to the wind. “I’m on my way home.”

“I have the lights on,” she said, and David hung up, placing the phone back in his pocket before pulling his glove back on and taking the first steps back toward home. He followed what he thought were the driveways out. The main road was so drifted, he almost didn’t realize he was on it until he found a bit of pavement. Looking around, he saw the occasional glimmer of light in the darkness and walked toward it, hoping it was from home. The light got brighter, and David eventually trudged up the driveway and into the garage. Wind-driven snow was caked everywhere, and he slipped off his coat and boots before going into the house.

It was like stepping into a world of instant warmth and light. “I have soup on and I made coffee,” his mother said, pouring David a mug and handing it to him. “Are they okay?”

“Yes, they were relieved, and I’m exhausted,” David said as he carried his mug with him to his room. After closing the door, he peeled off the various layers of clothing down to his underwear before pulling on a pair of thick sweats and a clean sweatshirt. Then he placed the dirty, wet clothes in the laundry and joined his mother at the table.

“It was a good thing you did, helping Benjamin’s father after the way he treated you,”’ his mother said as she put a huge bowl of soup in front of him. David thanked her and began to eat. How Mr. Killinger had treated him hadn’t entered his mind until his mother mentioned it.

“They needed help, and Benjamin’s my friend,” David said before eating ravenously. His friend needing his help was all that had mattered to him.

T
HE
storm raged for almost two days, and as David expected, school was canceled on Monday because many of the roads were still impassable. Their road had been plowed, and David’s mother ventured out to the store Monday afternoon, once David had blown the driveway and walk with the snowblower he’d convinced his mother to get. David watched television and read; there wasn’t much else to do. He thought about going outside, but doing things in the snow was only fun if there were other people.

David’s mother had been gone about half an hour when he heard activity outside. Peering out the window, he saw a black buggy slowly pull into the driveway. A man got out whom David didn’t recognize, followed by Benjamin’s father, who slowly moved up the walk to the front door. David opened the door to the soft knock and saw Mr. Killinger remove his hat. “How are you feeling?” David asked as he pushed open the door to allow Mr. Killinger to enter.

“Much better, and I understand from Benjamin that we have you to thank for my recovery,” he said stiffly.

“I’m glad I could help and that you’re feeling better,” David said, wondering what this visit was all about.

Mr. Killinger seemed to be studying him as though he were looking for something inside. “Why did you help me?”

David tilted his head slightly. “Because you needed it,” he answered simply. “Benjamin came to my door, upset, and said that you’d been hurt.

“But why?” Mr. Killinger pressed.

“Benjamin helped me when I fell in the creek and nearly drowned,” David answered honestly.

“So helping him and me was just repaying a debt,” Mr. Killinger stated as he nodded slowly.

David felt a touch of anger rise inside him. “I know you asked me to stay away from him, and I did. I also suspect you forbade him from seeing me. But that doesn’t change that Benjamin’s my friend. He asked for help, and that’s all that was necessary. That’s all that will ever be necessary, and I know the reverse is also true, regardless of what you order him to do. We’re friends, and friends help each other.”

Mr. Killinger swallowed. “I have been wrong about you, and for that I ask your forgiveness. You have an honest heart, and I can appreciate that.” Mr. Killinger lowered his gaze slightly. “If Benjamin still wishes to be friends with you, I will not forbid it.” He turned toward the door and stopped. “Benjamin has undoubtedly told you that I don’t approve of you English and believe we should keep ourselves separate. I still believe that, but Benjamin seems to trust you, and according to the doctor you took me to, my family and I owe you a debt for your selflessness.”

David shrugged, unsure how to respond to such a declaration. “You would have done the same, I’m sure,” David replied a bit naively, but smiled when Mr. Killinger nodded slowly.

“I’d like to think I would,” Mr. Killinger said as he pulled the door open. David watched from the door as Benjamin’s father placed his hat on his head and carefully walked back to the buggy. It tilted slightly when he got in. David shivered from the cold and closed the door. He watched the buggy slowly proceed down the drive and turn down the road like it had the last time Mr. Killinger had visited, but this time David felt elation and hope that he’d soon be seeing his friend.

Chapter 7

S
PRING
had finally come, though it was well into April before the last of the piles of snow melted away. David had seen Benjamin a few times, mostly out gathering wood. A couple times, he’d joined him and helped cut fallen limbs into pieces that Benjamin could haul on his sled. The tree Benjamin and his father had cut had long since been chopped and hauled away. Benjamin had told him everyone in the community was struggling with stretching the fuel they had to heat their homes, and that they were all praying for warmer weather to come soon. And it appeared that on this gorgeous spring day, as David stepped outside into the sunshine, they were getting their wish.

“Don’t forget your jacket,” his mother called from behind him, and David went back inside, taking the jacket she offered him. He didn’t think he’d need it, but he wasn’t going to argue with her.

“Thanks,” he said as she closed the door. David carried the jacket as he carefully walked across the field toward the line of still bare trees near the creek. The trees hadn’t budded yet, but otherwise spring was definitely in the air, even if the landscape still looked a bit bleak. The ground was a bit soggy in places, and David had to be careful where he stepped, but he managed to make it across the field without burying a shoe in the mud. The wooded area around the creek was littered with piles of debris that the wind had blown in, and David carefully made his way along the path by the creek to the summer swimming hole. The usually small creek ran wide and fast, the summer babbling of the water over rocks now closer to a small river. David was careful not to get too close. As he approached the wide clearing where they’d swum the summer before, David noticed a lot had changed. The log he’d sat on near the water had been washed away. The large rock on the far side of the pool appeared to have been pushed downstream. But at least the swimming hole itself was still there, and he hoped this summer he and Benjamin would be able to swim and roughhouse like they had before.