Part 21 (1/2)

He could barely leave quickly enough, red faced and muttering apologies or arguments-I couldn't tell which-as he hightailed it out the door.

So, I thought, as I shut the door behind him, I may have lost an architect along with my temper, but I wasn't about to stand still for a lecture from a bossy little man who needed a little correction himself. Although my hands were still shaking from my outburst, I didn't regret a word I'd said and went back to finish making a sandwich before the bread dried out.

Chapter 42.

Poor Adam, I thought as I sliced roast beef for my sandwich, coming close to slicing my hand as well. No wonder he'd been moping around, what with that woman and Tucker Caldwell, too, undermining his childlike faith, which is exactly the kind we're supposed to have.

I stopped with a lettuce leaf dripping in my hand as it came to me that there'd been a noticeable lack of singing around the house in the past few days. Those two must have really gotten to him. I sat down with my sandwich and a gla.s.s of tea, the words of an old hymn running through my mind: ”Rescue the peris.h.i.+ng ... Lift up the fallen,” or something like that, and began wondering what I could say or do to counteract the pressure they were putting on him. At least, I reminded myself, Adam might be naive and unworldly, but so far he'd withstood having his chin pierced, unlike another I could name.

As the afternoon wore on toward the time to dress for Hazel Marie's dinner party, I was still dithering over what to wear, mainly because I couldn't get to anything without running into somebody in overalls. By that time, the sky had begun to darken, so much so that I went around turning on lamps. Then the wind picked up, scattering petals across the lawn as thunder rumbled in the distance. The brickmasons started covering the half-finished chimney with a tarp, then they gathered their things and piled-three and four at a time-into the cabs of their pickups. And off they went.

Adam and Josh had been tying up the wisteria vine on the arbor, and they hurried in, ready to leave, as well.

”Comin' up a cloud,” Adam said, just as a streak of lightning seemed to hit nearby. We all flinched, then tried to pretend we hadn't. Rain began pelting down as the wind blew it in sheets across Polk Street.

Adam handed me their hours and I sat at the desk to write the checks. ”Wait till it slacks off,” I said. ”You don't want to go out in this.”

”I sure don't,” Josh said, which may have been the only words I'd ever heard him say.

The lights in the house flickered on and off, and as I glanced out the window, I saw hail bouncing on the lawn and power lines swaying in the wind. Lightning continued to flash and crackle overhead. Josh and Adam sat gingerly on my Duncan Phyfe sofa, but only after I insisted they do so. I didn't want them to be driving in such a storm, and, well, I didn't want to be alone in the house.

We sat without speaking waiting out the storm, and gradually the hail stopped and the wind died down to the occasional gust. Rain continued to come down so heavily that I could hardly see the church across the street.

Just as the worst of the storm seemed to have moved past, the telephone rang. I looked at the set on the desk, not wanting to touch it for fear that lightning would strike a pole somewhere and run down the line to knock me off my chair. But it continued to ring, so I did, especially since Josh seemed to be wondering if I was deaf.

”Miss Julia!” Lillian yelled. ”A tree jus' fell on the house! It come right down on Mr. Sam's house!”

I thought my heart had stopped. ”Who's hurt? Anybody hurt? The babies? Is Lloyd all right? Tell me, Lillian. How bad is it?”

”It's bad,” she said, her breath coming in gasps. ”That big ole tree in the backyard jus' split in two, an' half of it come cras.h.i.+n' 'cross the corner of the house! Right there in the back. It sound like Judgment Day a-comin'!”

My Lord, that was the corner where Hazel Marie's bedroom was, right where Mr. Pickens was laid up in bed.

”Call an ambulance, Lillian! Get some help. I'm coming over.”

”No'm, you don't have to. Everybody all right, 'cept the back bedroom upstairs. Tree branches stickin' through the roof an' rain pourin' in like sixty up there, an' both babies cryin' their eyes out, an' Miss Hazel Marie runnin' 'round lookin' for pots an' buckets, an' Mr. Pickens, he crippin' 'round givin' orders, an' ...” She stopped to catch her breath.

”And Lloyd?” I asked, gripping the phone. ”Where's Lloyd?”

”He tryin' to mop up water 'fore it come through the ceiling, but it doin' it anyway.”

”And you, are you all right? n.o.body's hurt?”

”No'm, 'cept I almost burnt the last batch of chicken, an' we got comp'ny comin' pretty soon.”

”I'll be there in a few minutes. I'm bringing help.” Turning from the phone, I said, ”Adam, Josh, we have a problem.”

We left in an international convoy-me in a German sedan, Adam in a j.a.panese pickup with a camper sh.e.l.l on the back, and Josh bringing up the rear in an American, partly made-in-Mexico pickup. Rain or water dripping from trees or maybe both was still falling, steam rose up from the wet streets, and the neighborhood looked ghostly in the murky light. I parked at the curb in front of Sam's house, jumped out struggling with an umbrella, and waved to Adam to turn into the driveway. Josh followed him in, and both trucks pulled in toward the back.

I hurried around the house, looking up toward the back where it seemed a tree was growing out of the roof. Just as I reached Adam and Josh, who were out of their trucks surveying the damage, we heard the growling throb of a heavy motor.

I peeked around the edge of the house and saw another pickup-a big one-pull to the curb. Sheriff Ardis McAfee, dressed in his Sunday clothes-jeans, boots, white s.h.i.+rt with a string tie, and that black sports jacket-climbed out. He adjusted his hat, then walked around and opened the pa.s.senger door. A young woman in a green raincoat-the niece, I surmised-hopped out, and another young woman-Etta Mae in a low-cut dress-was lifted out by the sheriff. I saw the flash of her teeth as she smiled up at him. They headed for the front porch, and I turned back to Adam. I didn't have time for greetings.

”What do you think, Adam?” I asked, wondering if we should call some kind of emergency workers, although I didn't know who they would be.

”That's a big 'un, all right,” he said. ”Look, it split right in two.” He pointed at half the huge hemlock that was still standing. ”It'll have to come down, too, but you can do that later. Josh, get the ladders and all the rope you got. You got your chain saw?”

”Yep,” Josh said, and the two of them hopped up into their camper sh.e.l.ls and began pulling out the tools they'd need.

Then everybody-Lillian holding one twin baby, Hazel Marie with the other one, Lloyd, Mr. Pickens leaning on a cane, Etta Mae, Sheriff McAfee, but not the niece-came pouring out of the back door and stood on the porch, watching.

The sheriff kept on coming, walking straight up to me with his hand out. ”Ardis McAfee, Mrs. Murdoch,” he said. ”Looks like we got a problem here.”

”It sure does.” I shook his hand, introduced him to Adam and Josh, then, lying through my teeth, said, ”It's nice to see you again, Sheriff.”

”Ardis.”

I nodded, then stepped back, hoping to avoid any further conversation lest he bring up some archaic penalty for impersonating a hospital employee.

The sheriff c.o.c.ked his head this way and that, studying the lay of the land, or rather the lay of the tree. ”Boys,” he said to the two brothers, ”if you don't mind a little help, we gonna need more rope than that. Hold on, I got some in my toolbox.” And off he took in a loping run to his truck, coming back with a thick coil of rope.

I declare, I've never seen the like of what those three did. They threw a couple of ropes up over limbs still attached to the hemlock, making, it seemed, some sort of pulley that Josh was to handle from the ground. Then Ardis, after removing his tie and jacket, and Adam climbed the ladder to the roof. Each had a power saw tied by a short rope to his belt, so that the saw swung free but was close to hand.

Lloyd came out in the yard to watch. With a worried frown, he said, ”I hope those saws don't have automatic starters. Somebody could lose something.”

Etta Mae, joining us, looked up at the men with dangling power saws, and said, ”Don't even think that.”

We were craning our necks to watch, and were soon rea.s.sured by seeing Ardis wrap the end of a pulley rope around a branch, pull a cord to start his saw, zip through the branch and let it fall free as Josh, at the other end of the rope, eased it gently to the ground. Adam followed suit, and within thirty minutes all the branches were piled on the ground, leaving only the large chunk of the tree trunk leaning against the house.

Adam called to Josh to bring a tarp and a couple of staple guns, and before long the gaping hole in the roof was covered. The two men came down the ladder and, with Josh's help, pushed the remaining part of the trunk off the house. It fell with a heavy thump to the ground, where it would stay until we could get someone to clear the yard.

”Boy, that was something to see!” Lloyd said, admiration lighting up his face as the men, covered with wet leaves and sawdust, joined us.

”It really was,” Etta Mae agreed, but her admiration was for only one of the men.

Ardis McAfee smiled and winked at her as he pa.s.sed on his way to the porch to speak to Mr. Pickens. ”That'll hold 'er for a while,” he said, indicating their Band-Aid approach to roof repair, ”but you gonna need some carpenters and a roofer out here pretty quick.”

”Soon as I can find somebody,” Mr. Pickens said, while I jabbed the air, pointing toward Adam, who was loading up his truck. ”Can't thank you enough, Ardis. I count myself lucky for getting shot in your jurisdiction.”

”I been around some,” Ardis said, modestly. Then c.o.c.king his head in the direction of Adam and Josh, went on. ”Them two boys know what they're doin'.”

So Mr. Pickens, with Hazel Marie cautioning him about doing too much, limped out to talk with Adam.