Songs for a Mockingbird. Bonnie Compton Hanson
Чтение книги онлайн.
Читать онлайн книгу Songs for a Mockingbird - Bonnie Compton Hanson страница 12
![Songs for a Mockingbird - Bonnie Compton Hanson Songs for a Mockingbird - Bonnie Compton Hanson](/cover_pre696237.jpg)
“See these bullrushes?” she asked cheerfully, trying to make a game of it. “They’re hiding us just like they hid Baby Moses. Listen; you can hear the frogs singing to you.”
“Don’t want to be Baby Moses,” Amber whimpered. “And don’t like frogs. I’m hungry and sleepy and scared and wet. I want to go to bed. And I want my Daddy!”
“Me, too,” sighed her brother. “Besides, aren’t these frogs like that plague in Egypt? Isn’t that a bad sign?”
Shannon gave him a hug. “God made frogs, Brother Meshach. They can be good friends to us. They eat naughty mosquitoes. Back at the compound I’d always listen to them at night when I couldn’t sleep. I pretended they were lonely, too, and talking to me.”
“Brother Meshach.” “Sister Deborah.” Dear God, would they ever get used to their real names again? And how will I ever get us all to safety? Each step I take on this swollen ankle feels like walking on broken glass. And even though the night’s warm, the ditch water’s already giving the children a chill.
“I like looking up at the moon and stars, too,” Shannon continued. “Brother Shimron—your Daddy—told me God created them. They’re like lights He’s turned on to help us find our way home. These little fireflies twinkling all around us are trying to help us too.”
Shifting her weary daughter to her other hip, Melinda tried again. “Yes, that’s just what God’s doing for us. Remember Noah’s Ark? And God’s promise to save Noah and the animals in the Ark? The Bible says God always keeps His promises. Can you name any of the animals in the Ark, Jeremy?”
“Well, mules and cows, like at our farm. But I’m hungry, too, Mommy. And I’m cold. And my feet hurt. And there are too many mosquitoes. Can’t we just sit down somewhere and rest?”
Oh, how she longed to do just that! “Not yet, dear; not until we’re safe. What about you, Amber; what animals do you like?”
“A kittycat. A nice kittycat. Not like those naughty ones at the barn.”
“Yes, dear, and what about puppy dogs?”
“We had dogs at the compound,” Shannon offered. “Pit bulls and hunting dogs.”
“No, Mommy!” Amber protested. “No, just a kittycat! See?”
And then her mother saw it, too: a tiny gray-striped kitten in the middle of the highway, mewing frantically.
Suddenly her little daughter wiggled out of her arms—and dashed across the pavement in the gathering dark to rescue it. “No, Amber!” Melinda screamed. “Stop!”
Just then she saw headlights speeding straight toward them. From the compound direction!
Heart in her mouth, Melinda hobbled desperately after the child. But just as she reached Amber, her bad ankle gave way. Completely.
“Run, Jeremy!” she screamed. “Save yourself !”
Blinded by the headlights, she tried to shield little Amber with her own body.
Brakes screeched to a stop.
“Hey, you there!” shouted a man’s voice. “Nobody move. Nobody!”
Chapter Seven
There in the middle of the highway, still holding tightly to her daughter, Melinda began to sob uncontrollably. It was all over. God could have saved them, but He didn’t. And now it was too late. Why, God, why?
Just then Amber squeezed out of her arms again and bolted away. As suddenly, she stopped. “Oh, Mommy!” she cried in awe. “Look!”
Jeremy climbed out of the ditch. “Oh, wow! You were right, Mommy. God does keep His promises.” Pointing, “See—it’s Noah’s Ark!”
As Melinda pulled herself up, she did indeed see Noah’s Ark—or as near a substitute as she ever expected to see on a balmy night in Iowa. There on one side of the two-lane highway, ablaze with light, sat an ancient school bus. But instead of traditional yellow, this one was hand-painted all over in bright rainbow colors, with flowers and animals and angels, plus Bible verses in English and Spanish. And the words “Noah’s Ark—Halleluia!” splashed boldly across the hood. The rack on top was piled high with crates of vegetables, strawberries, and chickens, plus stacks of fully-packed garbage bags.
People poured out the open bus door, running straight toward her. “Excuse me, ma’am,” came a man’s voice in a deep Southern accent, “didn’t mean to scare y’all none. But is you’ns all right?”
She breathed a sigh of relief. No one at the compound spoke like that. They’d been rescued, after all! “My ankle—” she gasped.
Strong but gentle arms started to lift her up. “Here, Pete, help me git the lady off to the side afore a vehicle comes along.” To a plump, silver-haired woman just getting off the bus he said, “Silvia, darlin’, can you corral that purty little gal over there?”
“No!” Amber protested. “I want my kitty!”
“All right, all right.” To a younger woman he said, “SueAnn, catch that cat for her, will ya? Quick, I see headlights coming!”
Jeremy and Shannon rushed over in sudden alarm. “Who are you?” Melinda’s son demanded of the tall, thin older man in overalls with a deep tan and thick, snow-white hair under an old baseball cap. Voice quivering, “And where are you taking my Mommy?”
“Now, now, child, don’t worry your pretty little head. Name’s Noah Anderson, owner of this here bus. Glad to meet you. This here’s my son Pete. We’s all farmers, and right now we’re trying to help your Mommy. Don’t want some car running over her, do you?”
Once they all made it safely to the side of the road, he added, “Lord-a-mercy, but it’s pretty late for you folks to be out here a-traipsing along. Barefoot, too—sopping wet, and injured? I can’t believe it! Do you live around these parts? Or did your car break down? Or have some kind of accident? Look, we’uns is on our way to Big Bend City for the Saturday morning Farmer’s Market. We’ll be a-stopping off overnight at Sunshine State Park near the county line—the parking lot there is safe.” Grinning, “Price is right, too, since it’s free. They’s got a pay phone there to call the Sheriff about your car, if you want.”
His son was a carbon copy of his father, except his hair and eyes were dark. Pete added, “Then before daybreak, we’ll head on to Big Bend City. The Farmer’s Market’s on River Street, just before the toll bridge over Bounty River. Can we drop you off anywhere between here and there? Or would you like to spend the night at the park with us and go on into town tomorrow?”
“Big Bend’s got some good auto shops, if you need one,” his wife added. “We always use Ted’s shop. Ted Perkins is the best. He’s got tow trucks, too. But he’s closed this time of night; everything is. Lots of stores and churches and motels in Big Bend. Even a junior college and a Rescue Mission. That’s where