Little Big Foot: Bud Comes Home

After church, Bernice and Phil had dropped Dee Anna off at the house and headed to the hospital to pick up Bud. After tidying the living room, scrubbing the bathroom and vacuuming the bedrooms, Dee Anna watched anxiously out the window as she washed the coffee cups they had used before heading to church. The morning’s icy wonderland had melted , leaving the front lawn brown and crisp. A cold wind rattled the window pane. Even Ricky Rooster and his harem of hens were nowhere to be seen. Must be huddled in their little coop, thought Dee Anna, feeling forlorn. Kinda like me.

She thought about calling Madeline but decided against it, figuring she would call when she could say she was heading home in a day or so. Hopefully that would be soon. She wondered how church had gone at North Woods Chapel. What a long way away it seemed. And what a long time since Mom and Phil left! Has something happened? Is Dad not coming home?

She wandered about the house a bit, wishing that her parents had bought a television, Must be the only house in town with no TV! She went to her room and changed from her church clothes into jeans and the green sweater she had worn on the airplane. Should have done that an hour ago! she chided herself, easing her feet into her fuzzy slippers. Plopping down on the bed, she picked up My Utmost for His Highest from the bedside table where it rested atop her Bible. Must think about something besides what is keeping the family so long. Maybe good old Oswald will distract me.

After reading the same page three times, she gave up and tossed the little volume on the table. Sorry, old friend, you are too obtuse for me today. Aloud, she said, “I probably could handle Madeline’s book of children’s devotions about now.” She climbed off the bed and knelt by a small bookcase. Wonder what is still in here? Oh, "Winnie the Pooh," "Wind in the Willows," "Alice in Wonderland," "Peter Pan"…does anyone actually read the real books anymore and not the Disney versions? ”Oh,” she cried aloud, seeing a set of thin volumes, “It’s my Madeline books! I thought they were long gone. She sat on the floor, legs crossed, and gently stroked the cover of the first volume, smiling at the long cover picture of little girls in yellow hats. Soon she was reading aloud:

"In an old house in Paris that was covered with vines,
Lived twelve little girls in two straight lines.
They left the house at half past nine,
The smallest one was Madeline."

She smiled, feeling her spirits lift a little. I really must ask Mother if I can pack these up and take them home to my own little Madeline! Hearing the crunch of tires on the gravel drive, she closed the book and clambered to her feet. They’re here!
_________

An hour later, Bud had settled into his favorite reclining chair, a blanket across his lap. Phi was outside feeding the chickens some leftover bread, and Bernice was on the phone reporting to Pastor Wallace that all had gone well.

Dee Anna kissed her father on top of his head and settled down near him on the couch. “Feeling okay, Daddy?” she asked. “What do you think of the job Phil and I did on the Christmas tree?”

Her father smiled. “The tree looks fine, Kiddo. I’m glad I’m going to be here for Christmas. I feel terrific, actually. I’m tired, but it sure is good to be home.” His smile faded and he said seriously, “Thank you for coming down here and being with your mother. She needed you, both of you kids. I know she wouldn’t say so, but…”

“It’s okay, Dad. I needed to be here. I needed to see you.” Dee Anna paused, reflecting and then added, “It has been good. Phil and I got to reconnect after all these years.”

“Yeah, I was glad about that. I saw how it was with you two. You know about Phil and…” he hesitated, “Well, you know your brother wasn’t doing so good for a long time?”

“I know. I’ve missed him.” She smiled at her father. His round face, usually florid, was looking pale and his face was drawn. She took a deep breath. “Daddy, I’m sorry I have been so out of touch with home. I missed you and Mom too.”

“Honey…” a pained expression passed Bud's face, “Dee Anna, I am the one who needs to apologize to you. Lying in the hospital gives a man time to think. When I wasn’t awake, I wasn’t really out of it altogether either.” He paused. “I thought of so many things. I did some prayin’ too. Many things I’d sure do different if I could. I wasn’t a very good daddy to y’all. I know it now, Dee Anna. I mean…I know I wasn’t a bad man, but I was just…” He sighed heavily. “I was too busy at church, and managing things over at the feed mill, and feeling important. I was happy to let your mother raise you and Phil.” Dee Anna said nothing, but reached over to grasp her father's hand. She saw that there were tears in his eyes. “I know that wasn’t right, Dee Anna. Your mother is a wonderful woman. But…I know she was hard on you children. Too hard…”

Dee Anna felt chilled and wrapped her arms around her body, wondering what to say. An all-too-familiar lump settled in her stomach. “Dad,” she began, but her father held up his hand.

“’No, Dee Anna. I was too much of a coward to stand up to her. It was wrong. She loves you but she just doesn’t know how to show it. Her mama and daddy were upstanding Christians, but…” He paused, face stiff. “Kinda hard people. They didn’t like me much.”

Long moments of silence stretched out as they both gazed at the Christmas tree, lost in their own thoughts. “Daddy,” Dee Anna finally said gently, taking her father’s hand once more. “Daddy, Mama told us. She told me and Phil about falling for you at the dances.” She grinned, “She said you could sing better than Elvis.” Her father smiled back at her, the memory making him look more like his usual self. He nodded at his daughter, waiting. “And she told us the other part too. About how she got pregnant, and how she had to leave home, and….and…it seems kinda crazy to me, holding on to bitterness all those years, but I think it made her scared. Scared that her kids would be wild.” Dee Anna ran a hand over the top of her red curls and shook her head ruefully. She glanced at her father, whose face was impassive. He sat very still. Was he listening? Suddenly the words tumbled out in a rush. “Daddy, I tried so hard to be good. All the time. She has no idea…” Her voice trailed off as she sensed the tightness in her middle spreading to her arms and legs.

“I caint believe she told y’all that stuff! She’s been keeping that to herself for a lotta years. It did something to her, Dee Anna, did something to her heart. Her daddy was so angry with her. Called her…” Bud’s face twisted. “He called her awful names. Said he’d kill me if he thought he could get away with it.”

“Now that’s good Christian behavior!” Dee Anna snorted and then spoke more quietly, “ Oh Dad, it all seems so needless to me! I know she wanted…wants…to be a good woman. Maybe wants to be perfect…and wants us to be perfect too.” Her neck hurt and she felt chilled. What is wrong with me? My father doesn’t need to hear this right now! Unwanted feelings were flooding her body, unwanted memories assaulting her thoughts. She pulled her feet up under her on the couch and squeezed her eyes shut. Think about something else...Horrified, she realized tears were rolling down her cheeks. She dashed them away impatiently, hoping her father didn’t see.

“Dee Anna?” Phil stood in the living room doorway. “Danna, you okay?” He crossed the room and put a hand on her shoulder. “Dad, is she all right? What’s wrong?” Bud shook his head wordlessly, looking stricken. Phil patted his sister’s shoulder, “Sis, what is it?”

Phil felt the tension in Dee Anna’s shoulders and her back shook as she began to cry soundlessly, covering her face with her hands. “I always tried so hard…” Sobs choked her and she stopped.

Phil knelt by her chair and put his arms around her, “I’m sorry, Danna. I’m sorry.” He looked over at his father, who was looking a little grey. “Dad, maybe you should go to bed…?”

“No!” Bud rose, a bit unsteadily, from his chair and sat next to Dee Anna on the worn sofa. “No! It was my fault.” Dee Anna struggled to stop crying, concerned that she would upset her father, but the sobs kept coming.

“Sorry, Dad. Sorry, Phil. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“I do.” Their mother’s voice startled them. She crossed the room and stood stiffly by her children, arms crossed on her chest, misery etched in the lines of her face. “These past days I watched you, both of you kids, and I saw what I’d done. Saw how you were almost afraid of me. I know part of what happened to you, Phil…runnin’ away and not writin’ or callin’ for almost three years…” She looked as grey as their father did as she added, “I know it was partly to get away from me and my…my mouth. And, Dee Anna, I am ashamed of how I treated your Michael when y’all came home. Ashamed, Dee Anna, especially now since…since he’s gone and I can never tell him I’m sorry. And me callin’ myself a Christian woman. Lupita Garcia and her mother think I’m some kind of saint. I know I…”

Dee Anna’s cell phone rang, piercing the silence. “Ode to Joy--how dumb for a cell phone. I have to change that stupid ring!” said Dee Anna angrily. She wiped her nose with a tissue Bud was holding out to her and picked up her phone, glancing at the name and number on its display panel. “It’s Lee Coats from Little Big Foot. He’ll leave a message.”

Bernice was looking at her husband, “Bud, you need to lie down.”

Dee Anna pulled her legs up and put her forehead on her knees, not wanting to look at any of them. Oh, God. I want my Maddie. I want to go home now. And then, with a fresh rush of tears, I want Michael. I want someone who loves me.

---------------

The small bedside lamp cast a warm glow around the girlish room, illuminating the bookshelves with their store of childhood classics, the small desk in the corner, the pastel pink curtains at the window and the twin bed covered with a fluffy green and pink plaid comforter. Dee Anna pulled a flannel nightgown over her head and climbed into bed. Leaning back against the headboard and closing her eyes, she heard the creak of a board in the hallway as Phil headed for his room, boot heels clicking on the floor. She crossed her arms over her chest, shivering a little. I thought Phil was going home to his apartment. Thanks to me and my big mouth, he must have decided to stay for another night and make sure Dad is okay. Her head ached and her eyes burned. Stupid crying! I hate crying!

After a few moments, she reached over to the little table and picked up her Bible, flipping it open randomly. The lamplight glowed on the pages, illuminating the words of Isaiah the prophet.

…Prepare the way,
Take the stumbling block out of the way of My people.”
For thus says the High and Lofty One
Who inhabits eternity, whose name is Holy:
“ I dwell in the high and holy place,
With the one who has a contrite and humble spirit,
To revive the spirit of the humble,
And to revive the heart of the contrite ones.

She recalled reading that same passage the morning she had awakened in the North Woods Chapel parsonage. She had written the date next to the verses and had added a question mark in the margin. She sat for a while, eyes closed, hearing the soft settling noises an old house always makes at night and feeling the hard wood of the headboard pushing against her back. She glanced down at the open Bible on her lap, remembering the stillness that had surrounded her in the upstairs bedroom of the North Woods Chapel parsonage. She had forgotten about that moment. How strange that i began that day with certainty that i would never live in Little Big Foot. Now I'm feeling homesick for the place.

Placing her Bible on the table, she reached up and snapped off the lamp. Lying down on her back, she pulled the comforter up to her chin as darkness enfolded her. She was tired, but sleep did not come. She heard the water from the bathroom sink running for a moment and the indistinct sound of her mother’s voice. After a long while, something pattered on the roof and she wondered if it was rain or sleet. Faintly, she heard the creak of the long-unused windmill that stood in the front yard. For a long time, she lay still, feeling the odd comfort of being in her childhood room, her own bed from long ago, with her bookcase, and her little lamp. They must have missed Phil and me, she thought sleepily. They left our rooms just as they used to be...Can I go home now, God? Am I done here? The only answer was the tick tock of an old-fashioned wind up alarm clock that sat on the bookcase.

God, I’m not sure if I am humble, but I do know that I feel contrite. I sure need reviving. What was wrong with me, upsetting Dad that way? Why does coming home always have to be painful?

Feeling chilled, she turned on her side and pulled her feet up, wrapping her arms around her body. She sighed. Unbidden, scenes from the previous week played like a movie in her mind. There was Phil at the airport, shockingly thin and looking ten years older than he should have. His warm smile. The hospital room and her father’s still form, hands folded on his chest, making her wonder if he was dead. She could smell that anonymous hospital smell and hear the thup whoosh of the respirator. Sitting in the family waiting room with her mother and brother, listening to Dr. Martin and absently seeing Oprah on the wall-mounted television. Her mother’s unexpected tears and Phil’s even more unexpected suggestion that they should pray. Lupita, with her warm smile and sparkling brown eyes, sympathetic and caring and full of almost unbelievable revelations of a mother Dee Anna had never known. Her mother’s sudden honesty as she sat with her children at the kitchen table. Phil talking, once again, like the brother she had missed so much. Her father’s gentleness as he regained consciousness, and his recovery. The unexpected pleasure of worshipping at her childhood church. Dad at home.

Ah, I’m sorry, Lord. Here I am feeling sorry for myself and when I stop to think, I have to admit that it has, overall, been an amazing week of unexpected revelations and blessings. I’m sorry for being such a baby…what was all that boo hooing about…? She drifted off to sleep.

Ring!


She was abupry awakened by the sudden ringing of the house phone. Phones are always interrupting us around here, Dee Anna thought. Then she remembered that it was the middle of the night and she sat up, heart racing, and turned on the light.

Ring!

The little alarm clock said it was 1 a.m. Phil’s door opened and his boots clacked down the hall. He must still be dressed…who's on the phone...? Nobody calls at this hour unless something is wrong! Dee Anna rose quickly. How many rings is that? As she opened the bedroom door, the phone stopped and she heard the rise and fall of Phil’s voice from the kitchen. She headed that direction, and then bumped into Phil in the darkness of the hallway.

“Dee Anna, I’m sorry, but it is someone named Lee. Isn't that the guy who called your cell phone before? He sounds really upset.” He followed his sister into the kitchen, flipping the switch by the door way and squinting as the light stabbed his eyes. Dee Anna was standing at the wall phone, lifting the receiver from where it dangled near the floor. His heart went out to her. She looked so childlike and vulnerable in her flannel gown, hair tousled and eyes swollen from all that crying earlier.

“Hello? Lee?”

His sister grew silent, listening, and Phil sat down in one of the wooden kitchen chairs. What more is going to happen now? He knew that a middle-of-the-night call from Wisconsin was not going to be good news.

About Finding Little Big Foot and Authonomy

Some of you know that I started posting the "Finding Little Big Foot" chapters here a while ago as a sort of fun way to focus on something outside my life--feeling a little overwhelmed and stressed--and writing for me has always been a pleasant escape.

I was surprised and happy to read so many good comments, compliments and encouragement. I know reading a chapter every so often is not they way to keep one's head in the story, but a few of you have stuck with Pastor Dee Anna over the months...um...years.

Meanwhile, I started writing a non-fiction book and was researching possible publishers. One well-known Christian publishing house said they do not read unsolicited manuscripts (so what else is new?) but they do look at serious religious work at a site called Authonomy. One thing led to another, and I ended up there, intending to post chapters of my "serious" book. That hasn't happened yet, but what did happen was that I started posting the (now 30) chapters of "Finding Little Big Foot." I think it is about half finished.

Now, here is where you come in, if you choose to. You can go to Authonomy and search for my book and read all the chapters much more easily than you can find them on this blog. EVEN BETTER (for me) you can register and then you can "back" my book. That means it goes up in ranking, and once a month the top five books receive a free read and edit by someone on the editorial staff at Harper Collins. Some books even get published that way. I am not expecting that Harper Collins would likely be the publisher for "Finding Little Big Foot" (though several people have commented that they think the book has "crossover" potential into broader markets) but having a professional editor comment would be very helpful, of course. Being up in that top five would greatly increase my chances of getting noticed by an agent, or by one of the other publishing houses, like the one I first checked out.

The remaining chapters will be posted, as I write them, on Authonomy. I am not sure if I will continue putting them on The Owl's Song. Right now I am doing a major edit of the 30 chapters already written. Once Pastor Dee Anna gets back home to Wisconsin things will get challenging in Little Big Foot, and there will be a bit of theology to ponder...I hope I can keep it fun reading while making a point or two.

If you'd like to read more than one chapter every few weeks, and ESPECIALLY if you'd like to help me move up the chart, go HERE.

If you do, THANK YOU!

Little Big Foot: the Home Church

It had rained and then grown cold overnight. The sun rose on a frosty landscape, turning the front yard of the home place into a sculpture of sparkling winter jewels. Dee Anna had awakened before daylight, missing Madeline. She wondered what was happening in Little Big Foot, finding it strange to wake up on a Sunday morning and have nothing to prepare for, no expectations, and no sermon notes to review.

After spending some time looking at the silvery scene outside the window, she had settled back into bed and pulled up the blankets. “Good morning, Lord. Thank you for the beautiful scene outside. I guess it’s church for us today.” She sighed. “If I’m honest, and I might as well be since you know it already, I’m not exactly looking forward to it.” She turned over in the bed and fluffed the pillow, picturing the little church in which she had grown up, remembering it as a good place for a child but later seeing it as too rigid, too legalistic, and just too small-town.

A memory of a long-ago visiting preacher swam into focus. It had been a week of summer revival meetings and the preacher had pretty much roasted the congregation at every sermon. Dee Anna, aged thirteen, had disliked him on sight, and she would have chosen to stay home, but her parents would not hear of it. Phil played sick, she recalled. How had he fooled them? He sure didn’t fool me!

After the first service of the week, she had overheard the visiting evangelist berating the pastor’s wife for wearing “earbobs.” That good woman had obediently removed them for the duration of the week. Dee Anna figured that the preacher was proud of himself for straightening out Sister Ellis. Dee Anna shook her head a little, recalled that the earrings had returned the next Sunday after the preacher had departed. Then she recalled the good things Lupita had recently shared with her about the congregation’s kindness to her family, the assistance the pastor had given, and even how her mother had been a blessing. She actually thinks my mom is a wonderful person and that it was a compliment to me to say how like her I am! Ah, if Lupita only knew how many ways I tried not to be like my mother.

“Oh, I give up!” she exclaimed and sat up. “Dear God, I pray for a good day with the family, and for a heart that is focused on you and ready to worship. Be with my little Madeline today, and the people at North Woods Chapel. Be with Daddy this morning and continue to heal him.”

Half an hour later, she was mixing pancake batter in the kitchen, singing a song she had not thought of in years.

This world is not my home,
I’m just a passin’ through,
My treasures are laid up,
Somewhere beyond the blue,
The angels beckon me from Heaven’s open door…

As Ricky Rooster crowed loudly, she burst out laughing. “Oh man, I have reverted to a Texas church lady in one week! Someone rescue me!”

“Don’t look at me for help!”

She whirled around, a little embarrassed. Phil had spent the night in his apartment, promising to return for breakfast with his mother and sister, which was one way to let them know he would attend church with them too. Now he stood in the doorframe, grinning at her with affection. “I mean, look at me. I’m wearing a western shirt and boots and I admit to having a cowboy hat in my car trunk.” He moved to the refrigerator and pulled out a bowl of eggs. “Those hens do lay some good eggs!”

As his sister flipped pancakes in a vintage 1960 electric skillet, Phil scrambled eggs at the stove. Soon they were both singing with exaggerated country twangs.

O Lord, You know,
I have no friend like you,
If Heaven’s not my home,
Oh Lord, what would I do?
The angels beckon me from Heaven’s open door,
And I can’t feel at home in this world anymoooooore.

Like their father, both of them had nice singing voices and they were happily aware of the sunshine, the fragrance of coffee and pancakes, and of each other’s company. How far we have come in a few days, thought Dee Anna. So much different from how it seemed at the airport. Phil even looks different. Thank you, God, for your goodness in bringing Phil and me together again.

“How can a woman sleep with all this racket!”

As their mother entered the kitchen, Phil and Dee Anna both turned toward her, feeling guilty. Then they saw that she was smiling. They exhaled at the same time, and both smiled back at her, surprised.

“Just like your daddy, singing away at th’ crack o’ dawn! She pulled plates from the drain rack by the sink and placed them on the table. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you two,” she went on,” but Dr. Martin called last night when y’all were at your Uncle Chuck’s house. Your daddy is coming home today. “
________

On the back seat of Bernice’s Buick, Dee Anna’s cell phone played Ode to Joy. She quickly picked it up, looking at the display. “Oh, it’s Jim Johnson calling. He’s one of the North Woods Chapel deacons,” she said to the two in the front seat.

“Hello?...Oh, yes…It is good to hear your voice, Jim. Thank you for thinking of us…Please tell the people at the church how much all of us appreciate their prayers for my father and the family. He is doing amazingly well...Yes, I think so. He’s coming home today and I’ll be able to fly out in a day or so, I expect…Sounds like Madeline is having fun at Dana Sullivan’s place, and Tom and Brenda told me their kids want to adopt Charlie!…Yes, I heard you all had quite a snow since I’ve been down here…Of course…Greet Lorene for me….I sure will!…Yes, bye now.”

“Sis, do you know how annoying it is to drive down the street listening to one half of a cell phone conversation?” Phil griped good-naturedly.

“Just hurry up,” snapped Bernice, “ We’re gonna be late for church. Some things never change with you two!”

In the back seat, Dee Anna turned off her cell phone and placed it in her purse, wondering why her mother’s words, while a little sharp, held no sting for her. Something has happened, that’s for sure. It’s not like she’s become all sweetness and light, but…” A sudden jerk of the car and Phil’s voice, swearing, abruptly interrupted her thoughts. “Sorry, Mom, “said Phil. “That just slipped out. I was afraid that idiot was gonna run the stop sign.”

Yes, not all is sweetness just yet, but that's all right. Dee Anna laughed softly and leaned forward to pat her brother’s shoulder. “And on Sunday too!” she teased. Phil replied, “Well, I am sorry. I’m trying to do better, and mostly I am.”

Even Bernice had a tiny smile playing on her lips as they pulled into the parking lot of the church. ___________

Entering the little foyer, they were immediately greeted by a plump and pretty Hispanic woman about Bernice’s age. Her eyes sparkled, and she held out her hands in welcome. With secret amusement, Dee Anna noted that she was wearing bright red earrings. Some things do change.

“Oh Bernice, I am so glad to see you this morning, and with both of your children!” The woman smiled broadly. “Good morning, Phil. Nice to meet you at last! And this is Dee Anna! I have heard so much about you! Your mama and daddy sure are proud of you.” Before Dee Anna could absorb that remark, the woman patted her cheeks, exclaiming, “You are just as striking as your beautiful mother.” She went on, “You two don’t remember me. That is okay. I am Deloris Garcia. Lupita is my daughter.”

Phil smiled a little nervously, and Dee Anna finally spoke, “Ah! I should have known. It is lovely to see you, Mrs. Garcia. I was happy to get reacquainted with Lupita over at the hospital. You must be proud of her.”

Bernice gave Deloris a hug, and Phil and Dee Anna glanced at each other in surprise. Their mother did not hug people. Well, not that either of them could remember. Mrs. Garcia gave both of them a church bulletin and a Welcome Visitor card. Dee Anna noticed that the picture on the front of the card was of two men in suits and ties, shaking hands. I’ll bet there’s still plenty of women in this place. Wonder when they will get into the Twentieth Century? As Lupita came around the corner, Dee Anna was immediately sorry for her critical thoughts.

“Oh, good morning, all of you!” Lupita’s face lit up in a smile even broader than her mother’s had been, and she immediately gave Bernice a hug, which appeared to be warmly returned. Two hugs for Mom in less than a minute? What is going on? thought Dee Anna, now completely astonished. Lupita nodded at Phil, who still had not uttered a word. She reached out for Dee Anna’s hands as she said happily, “I am so glad I am not working today. I wanted to be there when your daddy was discharged, but I wanted to be here with all of you in church even more!”

Before long, three more people had greeted Dee Anna and Phil, and Lupita had introduced them to two of her brothers. As they entered the sanctuary, Dee Anna saw that a plaster nativity set sat on a back table and a small artificial tree stood in a corner. How long since I was here?

She had no time to think about it as several people they knew greeted them warmly and asked about their father. Phil was looking acutely uncomfortable, and Dee Anna slid into a wooden pew and beckoned to him. Uncle Chuck, their mother’s brother, waved to them from the sound booth. They waved back, and just as they were about to sit down, a tall middle-aged man approached with the unmistakable air of a man in charge.

“Good morning, how nice to have you here with us today.” Glancing at Phil he questioned, “It’s Phil, right?”

“Yes sir” They shook hands.

“I am Pastor Daniel Wallace. And you are Bernice and Bud’s daughter? Dee Anna? It is Pastor Dee Anna, correct?”

Dee Anna nodded. “I haven’t been here for some time. I remember Pastor Don Ellis was still here when I was home last.”

The organist, an elderly woman Dee Anna remembered teaching in the Children’s Church long ago, began to play, and Pastor Wallace said to Dee Anna, “I’ll have you greet the folks,” as he moved away and headed to the platform.

Greet the folks? Oh…what to say? What do they know about me? Too much, no doubt! Phil was grinning mischievously, and he whispered, “I’m glad you are the preacher in the family and not me! I’m just a plain ol’ prodigal son!” Dee Anna gave him a small push as their mother entered the pew with a disapproving look.

“Y’all shush up now. I taught you how to behave in church!”

“Yes, Ma’am,” whispered Phil and Dee Anna.

The service proceeded with a prayer, a worship chorus, two hymns, and one Christmas carol. As the offering plates were being passed, Pastor Wallace announced, “We are so happy to hear that our dear Brother Bud is doing well and will be coming home from the hospital today.” There was a general murmur of approval, a couple of “Praise the Lord” exclamations, and several heads turned in the direction of Bernice and her children. “It is a joy to have the family with us today. Both the children, Phil and Dee Anna, are here. Of course, they are new to me, but I realize many of you have known them for years. Dee Anna is pastoring a church. We are all proud of you, Pastor Dee Anna. Would you like to greet the folks?”

Greet the folks…here it is… Dee Anna was feeling like she had travelled back in time. The small piano and the electric organ were the same, and each stood exactly where it had the last time she was here. There were new faces, true, but the missions map was still featured on the back wall, the same songs were sung, the same offering plates passed. Dee Anna felt about ten years old and for a moment she wanted to sink under the pew. Help, Lord! she implored as she stood to her feet. She took a deep breath and smiled, looking around.

“Good morning, friends! It is good to be here to worship with you this morning.” Her eyes travelled over the familiar scene. Many people had entered after she had been seated, and now she saw that she knew several of them. There was her dear Sunday School teacher, Mrs. Newbill, white haired and stooped with osteoporosis, but with the same smile of love for Dee Anna. She saw a few people that she remembered from days in the youth group, now with spouses beside them. There was Lupita and some of her family. And there were others, some whose names she recalled and others she wasn’t sure about. She noticed a young African American man sitting near the back with two small children. She smiled, acknowleding again that some things had changed. Suddenly she realized that the words she had just spoken were true. It was good to be here. Sudden tears stung her eyes, and she swallowed a lump in her throat.

“It has been a long time since I have seen some of you.” Nodded heads. “And a lot has happened to me in the years since I was a little girl in this place.” More nodding and a few smiles. “Thank you for being here for me when I was a little girl, for teaching me to love the Bible and to love God.” She smiled at Mrs. Newbill as she continued, “and for putting up with me, and Phil too, when we were teenagers. And for sending me care packages when I went off to Bible College. Some of you may remember that I served as a youth pastor in Lubbock and maybe you also heard that I headed to seminary but left and went through a bad time. For those of you who prayed for me, I thank you very much,” and with a sideways glance at Phil, she added, “My brother and I both thank you. We know some of you never stopped believing in us. God’s endless grace is new every morning and God’s mercy never ceases.” She paused, feeling a rush of emotions—among which was gratitude.

“I wasn’t always faithful to the Lord, but He did not give up on me. He rescued me from my own foolishness, and he gave me a wonderful husband and daughter. A couple of you met them last time I was home. Michael is with the Lord now, but Madeline is the joy of my life. And I rejoice that I am now serving a small Pentecostal church up in the northern part of Wisconsin. Yankee country! We thank you for praying for Dad.” She paused and then gestured to the congregation. “I see so many people who are dear to me. It was here that I first knew Jesus loved me.” She smiled at Mrs. Newbill again, and turned to smile at the elderly organist. “I thank you for the spiritual foundation I received right here in this little church.”

It was all true. Every word. Dee Anna sat down, feeling a little breathless and realizing with fresh astonishment that her mother was surreptitiously wiping tears from her eyes. Hugs and now tears? Dee Anna thought, feeling happily perplexed.

Phil gave her a quick pat on the hand. Pastor Wallace was standing at the pulpit asking for volunteers to make cookies for the Christmas bake sale. Then he went on, “I want to talk about our heavenly home. Before we continue with the message for this morning, turn to page twelve in your hymnals…” And soon they were standing together, listening to the wheezy old electric organ and singing,

This world is not my home,
I’m just a passin’ through,
My treasures are laid up,
Somewhere beyond the blue…

Phil sang with an exaggerated drawl and grinned at his sister, “Yep, some thing just never change.”

Little Big Foot: The Tree

Dee Anna and Phil rested in companionable silence, Phil at one end of the grey plaid sectional couch, and Dee Anna stretched out at the other end, legs swinging over the sofa’s worn arm. They had turned the lights off and were gazing with satisfaction at the glowing Christmas tree that stood in the opposite corner.

Their mother had gone to bed a couple of hours before, but neither of them had felt sleepy. Phil had tromped down to the basement and Dee Anna had heard some bumps and scrapes, along with vague exclamations from her brother. A short while later he had appeared at the top of the stairs with three large boxes stacked precariously in his arms, light strings trailing down the stairs from the top box.

“Careful!” his sister had exclaimed, rescuing the light strings, but then she had laughed.“Bro, you have dust webs in your hair.”

“You would too, if you’d been down there. I don’t think anything’s been moved in about a decade. Leastways, not judging by the cobwebs and dust.”

His loud sneeze had made Dee Anna laugh again, and she had impulsively ruffled his hair, shaking the dust into the air until she too had sneezed. Her gesture, reminding them both of days when they had been inseparable, had made Phil smile. Not long after, the two of them had dusted the boxes and removed the lids, half in expectant pleasure and half in dread. It had not been difficult to find a rhythm of working together. Phil, taking his father’s usual role, had checked the light strings and draped them over the branches while Dee Anna found hooks for the ornaments.

After they had placed everything on the branches, Phil had decided that the tree still looked bare and Dee Anna had headed for the kitchen and rummaged in the cupboards until she located a jar of popcorn. She’d popped it the way they always had, shaking a saucepan of kernels vigorously back and forth over the gas burner. She had dumped the fragrant popcorn into a large metal bowl and Phil had returned to the basement where he had found his mother’s needles and thread in a cigar box atop her long-unused Singer sewing machine.

It had taken time to make two long strings, and the conversation had flowed easily between them, dispelling the last vestiges of awkwardness. Phil had surprised himself by talking about his new A.A. friend, Sarah. He had hesitantly asked about Madeline, and this had led to Dee Anna sharing a little of her life in Madison and her sorrow at Michael’s untimely death. Phil’s eyes had grown soft, listening to his sister.

“I’m sorry, Dee Anna, so sorry.”

“What?”

“I should have been in your life, should have helped you, should know my niece…you know. I’m just…just sorry, that’s all.”

Dee Anna had patted his arm, smiling reassuringly. “Oh, Phil…” she’d stopped, fighting tears. “I’m the one who is sorry. I mean where was I when you were working out west, when you were…in trouble?” She’d paused and shaken her head. “I wasn’t an angel, sweetie. I was boozing it up and acting like a fool down in Dallas. Maybe I didn’t end up in rehab…” She’d stopped, afraid she’d hurt his feelings, but he had nodded. “But Phil, I had my own stuff to deal with. Not so different, really.” She had blown her nose and continued, “Thanks to an anonymous Catholic priest and a friend who lived in Wisconsin--and thanks to my sweet Michael, God found me.”

“God never lost you, Sis.”

“Well, no.” She had smiled, “You are right. God never lost me. I just finally realized, I guess, after all my running and trying to forget this town and this house and…all of it, I guess I found out that God was still there. Still waiting.”

“Right.” Phil had nodded again, encouragingly.

“And you know what else?” A kind of joy had filled his sister’s face. “God’s calling was still there.” She paused, and shook her head, looking a little dazed. “After all the--all the crap.” she grinned,
“After all of it, God still had a place for me.”

That had led to talk of Eastside Methodist Church and then, as they had draped the popcorn strings across fragrant branches, of Little Big Foot.

“Dang it all, Phil, “ she said now, swinging her feet, “I already did the small town thing.” She gestured vaguely. “You know about that, same as me.”

“Yep.”

“And there was no way I was gonna go back to some hick town…you know?”

“Yep. Sure do.”

“But I did. Can't say why, exactly. It's an odd place, but I think I really kind of like it. Still kind of finding out about people and stuff.” After a pause, she added, “ And I’m starting to miss them all. And Maddie, of course.” Her voice trailed off as she realized just how much she was missing her daughter. ]

“Are they being nice to you?”

“Um,” she paused. “Mostly, so far.

"Ha! Just wait till they start actin' like holy rollers!"

Dee Anna pulled a couch pillow from under her head and flung it at him. "That is so not happening!"

They both laughed. The tree lights touched their faces softly as they grew silent once more.

Little Big Foot: Home Matters

An unexpected Texas snowfall had deposited about an inch of white on the hospital's front law. The sky was grey and scattered snowflakes drifted lazily down. As her brother, Phil, pulled into a parking spot near the entry, Dee Anna, in the back seat, glanced up at her mother, seated on the passenger side of the car, head back against the seat and eyes closed.

"Mom," Phil said, "we're here."

"I know. Do you think I'm sleeping? As if I could sleep!"

"Just letting you know."

Inside, Christmas carols played in the entryway, an odd reminder for all of them that the season was proceeding more or less without them. The hospital gift shop, just to the right of the entrance, was filled with Christmas items and festooned with white lights. A pink-clad volunteer looked up and waved as they went by. "Hello, Bernice! I hear Bud's doing well. Do y'all need anything?" Phil and Dee Anna kept walking as their mother stopped for a moment of conversation with the white-haired volunteer.

"She's edgy today," said Phil. Dee Anna nodded, saying nothing.

Entering their father's room, they found Dr. Martin reviewing their father's chart. Bernice came in a few moments later, lips compressed. Dee Anna kissed her father's forehead and then stood at the window, absently watching the snow flakes drift past.

She smiled, remembering Madeline's voice on her cell phone earlier. Little Big Foot was "snow bound," she'd crowed with excitement, and they had already received more than a foot of snow in the morning hours. More snow was in the forecast. School was closed, and she was hoping to go out to make a snow fort with her friend, Dana, and some other children. Charlie the dog was having a wonderful time being petted and played with over at the Halverson household. The Advent wreath had arrived and looked beautiful. The Whitewaters had company and they'd all come to church. One of the boys was cute. Sunday's preacher was kinda boring. She was okay and was having fun at Dana's house, she had said, but hoping her mom could come home soon so they could do some Christmas shopping. Dee Anna had finally been able to interject a question or two, but it seemed Madeline was doing fine without her.

Now, gazing out at the light snowfall and thinking of home, she suddenly realized, with momentary sadness, that Madeline had not asked about her grandfather, except to wonder how long it would be before Dee Anna took a flight back to Wisconsin. Well, it wasn't like Madeline really knew her grandparents, and that hadn't really been such a bad thing. Maybe now it could change. Could her family's uncharacteristically gentle communication possibly last? That question was chased away by the awareness that she had just thought of Little Big Foot as home. She turned, hearing Dr. Martin clear his throat and begin to speak.

--------------------

One day before, Tommy and Brenda Halverson had taken an evening walk into the woods around their little house. It was cold and beginning to get late, the flat grey sky getting darker. The snow that would so delight Madeline the next morning had already begun to fall, so they went about their Christmas tree selection quickly. Making their way around a large woodpile at the side of their home, they half walked, half slid down a short embankment and entered the woods, holding hands and laughing as they heard one of the kids yelling from the back door, "Get a really, really, really big one, Dad!"

Tommy had cut down a medium sized tree with a small hatchet he had brought along for that purpose. They had shaken the snow from the branches, but the tree was covered, before the made it up the bank, around the house and up the steps to their back door. "It's really startin' to come down now," Brenda had said, and Tommy had grinned and answered, "That's the way to cut down a tree, ya know? In the snow, just like a Christmas card!" Brenda yelled and the kids laughed at he shook the tree's branches, spraying them with wet snow.

The next morning Tommy had secured the tree into its stand before leaving for the paper mill. Now he was back, stomping his feet as he shook the snow from his blaze orange knitted cap and peeled off his gloves. "Dad's home!" yelled Doug, the youngest of their four children, pulling him into the warm living room where Brenda was opening boxes of ornaments. "They closed up th' mill and let us go home," said Tommy. " Looks to be a really heavy snow and blow." He crossed the room in his stocking feet and kissed his wife, who pushed him playfully and said, "Tommy, stop it! Your mustache is covered with ice!"

Not long after, Tommy had finished his yearly decorating duty of stringing the lights across the floor and checking for burnt-out bulbs. After stringing the lights around the tree he contented himself with directing Brenda from his recliner. Jeremy, the oldest boy, carefully removed the ornaments from squares of Kleenex and passed them to his sister, Lois, who inserted a metal hook. She, in turn, passed them to their mother, who placed them on the tree. Periodically she stepped back to inspect her work. "Not a bad day to be home from school, kiddos," said Tommy from his chair. "Do we need another log in the wood stove?"

Scott, the middle boy came around the corner from the kitchen. He was holding Charlie by the collar. "Hey, Dad, I wish Pastor Dee Anna didn't want this dog. He sure is a good one, though." He came over to his father's chair, "Do you think we could have a dog, huh?" Tommy tousled Scott's blond hair. "Did you ask Santa for one?" he teased.

Brenda stopped and turned with a concerned look on her face. "I hope Pastor Dee Anna's father will be all right. Have you heard anything? It's a shame, her having to leave just as we were getting ready for Advent. "

-------------------

Jim Johnson woke precisely at six in the morning, wishing that he could sleep in. "Why," he wondered aloud, "does my body think it still has to get up and get to the school? Wonder how long it'll be before I can actually sleep in without feeling guilty?" Lorene was already up, and she came into their bedroom from the hallway. She was wrapped in a terry cloth bathrobe and her grey hair, usually piled on top of her head and sprayed stiff, was pulled back in a thick ponytail.

"I've been up a while. Have you looked outside? It's snowin' to beat th' band out there. The coffee's on. Seems like a good day to make a batch of stew with some of that venison Tommy Halverson gave you last fall."

"There will be no school today," said her husband from long habit. "Guess I won't be heading to Rhinelander to buy your Christmas present today either." After a pause, he said, " I think I'll call Pastor Dee Anna in a bit to see how it's going down south."

Lorene came to the side of the bed and leaned over to kiss the top of Jim's bald head. "Get up, Honey. We have decorating to do." Jim sat up and wrapped his arms around his ample wife. "Or you could come back to bed instead," he said with a grin. "It's cold in here."

--------------------

Chad lived in a little house just around the corner from North Woods Chapel. He was using his unexpected day off from the mill to prepare for the upcoming holidays. He had tried to go back to sleep after he heard he wouldn't be working, but it hadn't worked. So he'd donned a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt and after making himself a bowl of instant oatmeal, had started dusting the living room. His house was rather bare, but it was neat and organized. He made his way around the room, dusting the small end tables, lamps with bases made of tooled leather, and a picture of a wolf in snowy woods. He ran the vacuum quickly over an oval braided rug and mopped the small kitchen.

Satisfied, he headed to the basement to begin hauling up boxes of Christmas items. After about an hour he had erected a small artificial tree, had it lit, and was arranging his mother's collection of Norwegian trolls in front of the books that lined shelves covering most of one wall. The Complete Works of William Shakespeare stood beside the Little House books. Those had come to him from his mother, as had the hard backed volumes of the Chronicles of Narnia series, bound in several deep colors and with the titles etched in gold on the spines. Chad touched the books gently for a moment as he placed the last troll. "I miss you, Mom," he said quietly, "and you too, Dad." He smiled as he added, "And Dad, I do appreciate your books too." He was referring to several books for the home handy man, a series purchased over several months from The Readers Digest. These stood on the bottom shelf next to a red checked volume of Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook.

Next, Chad opened the lid on a boxes of ornaments and removed a handmade snowman with CHAD printed in block letters on the bottom. Third grade, he recalled. He had been so proud of it, wrapping it carefully in tissue paper and bringing it home from school in his backpack, along with a handwritten card for his mother.

Suddenly he realized her felt tired and sat down on a small brown sofa. His thoughts drifted to the day his family had moved into this house. He had been seven or eight years old, maybe about the age of Madeline Hanson. What a long time it seemed since his parents had been gone. Opening his eyes, he looked sadly at the box of ornaments. Almost every one of them had a story. He wished there was someone with whom to share them.

-----------------

Dennis and Marla Whitewater were cleaning up from their departed company. Marla pulled sheets from the bunk bed in the loft and and piled them in a laundry basket. Uh oh. One of the cousins had left a sweatshirt under the bed. "Good thing everyone got out of here yesterday. If they had stayed one more day they might have had to stay put till this snow ends" she called to her husband. They were alone in the house; their two sons had spent the night at a friends and had called to say they were staying put till they could get their truck out of the driveway.

"I love your sister and her family, Babe, but I must say I'm glad to have you to myself again. Besides," Dennis said, grinning and poking his head around the door of the spare bedroom, broom in one hand and a dustpan in the other, "you know what they say about relatives. Just like fish...they stink after three days." He ducked as a pillow sailed across the room.

Marla laughed, "Just be glad it wasn't both sisters! And with all the relatives you have around here you are the last one to talk!" Then she grew suddenly serious. "Speaking of visits and family, I wonder how it is going with our pastor and her family? Have you heard from her?"

------------

Lee Coats had finished his morning milking and settled things in the barn so as not to have to go back out anytime soon. Now he was paying bills. Or that was what he was supposed to be doing. He was sitting at his computer warming up with a cup of hot coffee, checkbook open and bills spread across the desk. After fifteen minutes he had still not entered his bank password. He was staring out the window as the snow grew more and more intense and the wind increased, making the house creak. The words of an old Barry McGuire song came into his mind:

I walked a mile with pleasure,
She chatted all the way.
Left me none the wiser with all she had to say.
I walked a mile with sorrow,
Never a word said she,
But oh, the things I learned from her,
When sorrow walked with me.

"I don't think I'm learning anything!" He spoke aloud and his voice was angry, surprising him.

"The weather knows how I feel," he thought to himself, dropping his head into his hands. He could hear that Mary had finally gotten up and was in the shower. "What am I going to do about Mary, God?" He felt sorrow rising in his chest like a wave, and he choked back a sob. "God, you know how I love her, and how hard I have tried to be a good husband, to be a loving leader, to help her become the beautiful person I know she is. I've encouraged her to pray, to stick with her devotions, to get more involved, and nothing seems to work. Every December it gets even worse. What more is a Christian husband supposed to do?"

The only answer was the whistle of the wind around the corner of the house and the rattle of the window pane. Lee heard the shower stop, and he lifted his head and typed his password on the keyboard. Might as well get something accomplished. Maybe later he could get Mary to work on Christmas decorating. Or maybe not. Maybe this year they would skip the tree.

--------

"Oh, this is good news!" Dee Anna put an arm around her mother and smiled at her. "Phil and I will get the Christmas tree up tonight, and it will be all set for when Daddy comes home next week." She turned to Phil who was sitting on the foot of their father's bed. "Won't we, Bro?"

"Uh, sure. I guess so. Right now I need to get myself to work." He stood to his feet and moved to the head of the bed. "Dad, I'll make sure things are set for you and Mom." He kissed his mother lightly on the cheek, surprising himself. She smiled faintly and patted his arm. "See you right after work, Dee Anna," he smiled at his sister, "It sure would be nice if you make some spaghetti for tonight."

"Hey," interjected their father from the bed, "I want some spaghetti too!" He frowned. "And how are y'all gonna get the lights to work on that tree? Nobody ever seems to get it right except me."

Little Big Foot: More Surprises

It had been an amazing few days, Phil thought. Meeting his sister at the airport had been difficult, but a relief. She had seemed genuinely glad to see him, and they had already begun to regain their friendly footing with one another. Then there was the realization that their mother actually loved their father, then her astounding revelation of an side they never dreamed existed, culminated with an unexpected and distressing pregnancy, then the nurse’s phone call and a relived reunion with his father as the family had arrived at the hospital to find him awake and wanting to talk.

Their conversations were necessarily short, of course, but had been uncharacteristically straightforward but gentle. It almost seemed as though something had happened to his father when he was unconscious, Phil mused. He was more serious, but in a good way.

Bud had beckoned his wife to come close and then had cupped her face in his hands. As their parents had both began to weep quietly, Dee Anna and Phil had left the room, glancing at one another in a kind of wonder. Later his father had taken his hand and said, “Son, I am sorry I criticized you so much. I know you are a good man.” To Dee Anna he had said little but had simply enfolded her in a long embrace and stroked her hair. Something, it seemed, was happening.

Phil rose from a vinyl hospital chair, hearing the approaching voices of the children’s choir from First Baptist. He glanced over at his father, who was sleeping, and then he peeked out the door and down the hall. Sarah was leading Christmas the children in singing “Go Tell It on the Mountain.”

Phil had encountered the choir director at an AA meeting. He had been surprised, remembering her as the daughter of a man known as a”hell-fire-and-brimstone preacher.” She had nodded and smiled at him, and after the meeting, they had somehow ended up eating ice cream at the Dairy Queen. Sarah had shared a little of life after she had left home to attend Texas State University, and she had acknowledged that she had heard of his drug problems and his subsequent return to their home town. Her father was now a resident at Shady Acres Convalescent Center, the victim of Alzheimer’s disease, and her mother was enjoying a happy and healthy 70th decade. She had intended, she said, to stay away, but had shrugged as she added, “It’s been all right. I came home to help Mama, and she is the one who’s helping me.”

Sarah looked over and saw him, and she waved as she sang. Shyly, Phil waved back, feeling like a kid caught being sneaky. He chuckled at himself, wondering if this meant he was infatuated. His mother had gone to speak with Dr. Martin, but he wasn’t sure what had happened to Dee Anna.

Deciding to go look for her, he headed to the family lounge, wondering if he had a dollar to spend on a Coke. He was a few steps inside before he realized that his sister was talking intently with the same pretty nurse they had seen before. Hadn’t they gone to school together? He thought he remembered her from choir, a freshman perhaps, when he was a senior.

He backed out of the room and wandered towards the carolers.
----
Dee Anna and Lupita were reminiscing. Lupita's shift was over and she should have gone home, but she had stayed to talk with her old schoolmate. They had settled into a couple of chairs in the lounge and sipped overpriced soft drinks from the vending machine while they talked of mutual acquaintances, and Dee Anna had wondered who was still in town and who had moved away, who had married, who was still single, who had been a surprising success. After a while they ran out of things to say and grew silent.

After a few moments of sipping their cans of Dr. Pepper, Lupita shifted in her chair, leaning forward with a serious expression as she asked, "So, it is true then, you really are a pastor?" Dee Anna nodded, and Lupita went on, "I always knew you'd be someone special."

"I'm not special," replied Dee Anna, surprised. "Well, no more than anyone else."

"Some are more special than others, Chica!" said Lupita, grinning. "I remember you from grade school, with your red hair and beautiful green eyes. I used to wish I looked like you. And that my mother looked like yours--still so lovely isn't she? Your mother was always good to us."

Dee Anna laughed, "I hated my hair." Then she quietly asked, "And what happened to your mother? Is she living? Is she well? Or..."

Lupita looked surprised as she replied, "Oh my! Y'all don't know? My mother is doing very well. Thank you for asking. She almost died...and then she just started to get better and better and after a while she was her old self, only more alive than I'd ever seen her. She lives with her sister now, and the two of them are enjoying each other, shopping, going to the movies, getting their hair done..." Lupita chuckled, "Well, doing the things they never had time or energy to do when they were younger."

"Oh, I'm so glad to hear that. I know it must have been hard for you when we were seniors and she was ill and you had brothers and sisters at home." Dee Anna paused, wondering if she was getting too personal, but Lupita nodded.

"Yes. It was very hard. I was tired all the time. I pretty much dropped out of everything. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to go to college, but after your mother invited us to church and helped us so much, I..."

"What?"

Lupita went on, "It made such a difference to us to know that th' folks at your church cared. Your mom came over one day, and I...I was so embarrassed that the place was a mess. And she just shushed me, and she asked where the broom was and I still remember how she put her hands on her hips and looked around and said, 'We are fixin' to get some work done!'"

Lupita's eyes sparkled as she added, "I was amazed at how she got all us kids organized and working, and pretty soon it looked like a different place."

"My mother?"

Lupita looked puzzled, "Sure! Didn't you know?"

"Um," Dee Anna took a deep breath, "Well, no."

"Oh my yes! She got all of us going to Sunday School, and one Sunday when Mother felt better she came too. Everyone welcomed us, and made us feel at home..." She paused, "well, you know...it's changed, but back then we thought maybe they'd expect us to go to Templo Calvario. I mean....well..."

"Yes, I understand" said Dee Anna simply, reaching to touch Lupita's hand. "Are you saying my mother brought y'all to our church?" She was chagrined to hear how easily she was slipping back into the speech patterns she'd deliberately avoided. Still, she had to admit, Lupita's mix of soft Spanish accent and Texas drawl made her feel at ease. Dee Anna went on, "And your mom too?"
"That's what I'm saying, Dee Anna!" Lupita looked surprised, "I mean, I thought y'all knew that."

"No."

"Well, she did, and your dad and Pastor Don Ellis, remember him? The two of them organized some of the men to help with some repairs at the house, and, well...it was the beginning of so many good things. The people loved us, and they prayed for my mom, and she went to a different doctor over to th' Lincoln clinic, and she got better. It was Pastor Don who helped me find out about grants and apply for a couple of scholarships and it worked out so that I could go to nursing school. When I got on the Dean's List, your mama and daddy sent me a card with fifty dollars in it!"

Dee Anna stared, speechless, as Lupita went on, "I guess you take after your mother. She is a no-nonsense lady, but then so are you." She added, a little shyly, "I will never, as long as I live, forget the day when that Hutchinson boy from th' edge of town called me...called me a name...and you came flying by me and smacked him! I like to died!" She burst out laughing, then stopped, noticing Dee Anna's open mouth.

"What is it, Dee Anna? Did I say something I shouldn't have?"

Dee Anna reached out and grasped Lupita's hands. "I...oh no. I just...well..." she took a deep breath. "All this is news to me. It's wonderful, of course. It's just that...well...I'm surprised I didn't know about any of it."

Lupita looked surprised. "I just thought you and your mama probably talked all about it, us graduating together and all..."

Dee Anna thought, but did not say, "I didn't talk to Mom much after I left town."

After a moment in which both were silent, Lupita said, "I know it has been a long day for all of y'all, but...if you wouldn't mind...sometime I'd love to hear a little about how you became a pastor. I know you went off to some school, but nothing much after that. I've never seen a woman pastor before, but, oh yes I did heard that you...married a preacher too. And you have a little girl?"

Neither of them had noticed Phil as he entered, and then exited, the room.

Finding Little Big Foot: Spanish People

Chapter Twenty-Five (and it only took me a year and 4 months to write them). Anyone still reading?

Brrrrrrrt!

Who has a phone that sounds like that anymore? Dee Anna thought, startled. The ringing stifled Phil's laughter and brought sudden silence--as shocking in its way as the laughter had been, except for the phone's jarring summons. For a long moment no one stirred and their expressions stiffened in apprehension. It was Dee Anna who rose and moved to the wall by the back door where a turquoise-hued phone still hung. As Dee Anna lifted the receiver, she felt an odd fracturing in her thoughts. Part of her was cold and still. Another part of her was expectant, almost excited. She also found herself wondering why her mother would redecorate the kitchen yet leave the old phone, rotary dial and all, in place.

It was Nurse Lupita. Dee Anna remembered Lupita as a quiet, pretty girl who did well in school in spite of caring for an ill mother and several younger siblings. She must be working some long hours, Dee Anna thought, remembering that she had been in the hospital the afternoon before. She was glad that the call, whatever it was going to be, was not from a stranger.

In high school Dee Anna, while friendly, had not exactly been close to Lupita. She had refused to engage in the demeaning remarks she sometimes heard and once had slapped a lanky boy who had called their classmate "that beaner bitch." They had both gotten detention. Dee Anna remembered trying to explain to her father why she, for the one and only time in her life, had been required to stay after school. Her father had said little except to pat her on the hand and admonish, "Jesus tells us to turn the other cheek, Dee Anna."

Dee Anna had wondered how that applied to an insult given not to her but to someone else. Wasn't justice important? She didn't ask. She had decided to stay silent and consider herself fortunate that her father had been the one to get the call from the principal. He had not spoken of the incident to Bernice.

Lupita was from "a Spanish family" who lived in an area known simply as "the east side." Her father had died in some farm accident, Dee Anna dimly recalled, when Lupita was about ten years old. Lupita's mother had done laundry, ironing, and housework for many of Bernice's friends. She had become ill--was it some kind of cancer?--and her daughter had dropped out of the Drama Club because she couldn't come to rehearsals. They had been preparing for "Hello Dolly." The rest of the cast had felt sorry for Lupita, who had a lovely voice.

"Spanish" people were considered acceptable in Dee Anna's childhood world, at least somewhat welcome in school and the workplace. "Mexicans" on the other hand, were to be avoided, except when manual labor needed to be done. Mexicans were on the low end of the social scale, just above those with even darker skins who lived in yet another part of town. Both groups attended different churches than the white people.

Dee Anna had accepted all this as normal until about age 14 when she began to be acutely aware of how things were in other places. Once when Bernice had spoken of an electrician as "that Spanish man," Dee Anna had scornfully asked her, "Are there actually Spanish people in these parts?"

Bernice had looked at her as if she'd lost her wits and said, "What are you talking about, Dee Anna? You know very well there are. Aren't you listening? I just told you that the Spanish man who works with your Uncle Chuck will be here tomorrow to replace the wiring on the porch."

"Really, Mother?" Dee Anna had questioned with wide eyes, " From Spain?" Her mother had given her a long, hard look and said nothing.

"They are Mexicans, Mother. Or if you want to get with the times, they are Hispanics."

Bernice had snapped, "Mexicans are field hands" and slammed the door as she left her daughter's room. They never spoke of the subject again.

Remembering, Dee Anna felt an all-too-familiar mixture of frustration and regret. She should have tried to understand her mother. She should have been a better friend to Lupita, whom she had genuinely admired.

She suddenly thought, "What happened to Lupita's mother?"

"Is this Dee Anna?" said the voice on the phone. Dee Anna's thoughts jerked to the present as she ran her hand through her hair. She took a deep breath.

"Yes... Is this Lupita? What is it? Is my father...:?"

"Is your mother awake and all right?"

""Yes. We're all up. Is something wrong?"

""Oh no, Dee Anna."

The voice was unchanged from when it's owner was sixteen, and Dee Anna found that oddly comforting.

"Dr Martin is here. Your father is awake and asking for your mother. Can you come soon?"

Little Big Foot: Breakfast at the Home Place

Sorry it has been so long since the last installment about the pastor of Little Big Foot. I'll try to do better. Some current changes in my schedule might make writing a little easier. We left Dee Anna, her brother Phil, and her mother, Bernice, in the family waiting room, doing their best to comfort one another.

The chortle of a rooster woke Dee Anna next morning. Er errr errrrrrrraa!

She thought foggily, "They don't say cock-a-doodle-doo."

A rooster? They had never had chickens. She rubbed her eyes and sat up. It was early. The red numerals on the digital alarm clock read 6:15. Even so, a wide swath of Texas sunshine streamed across the floor. The house was quiet.

After a few moments of vainly trying to go back to sleep she stretched and swung her feet over the edge of the bed. Might as well get up.

A few minutes later, wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, she tiptoed down the hall and into the kitchen. Passing the door to the living room, she was mildly surprised to see that an undecorated Christmas tree stood in the corner. She'd almost forgotten it was nearly Christmas. She realized she was cold and turned up the thermostat. Maybe not as cold as Wisconsin, but still cold.

Her thoughts went to the snow-covered woods and the back roads of Little Big Foot. When she had left for the airport a crew of workers had been hoisting Christmas lights over Main Street. Better call someone there today. She wondered whether Marla had finished setting up the front of the sanctuary for Advent. Had the Boy Scouts delivered the large wreath...?

The rooster's crow startled her. It sounded close. She moved to the window over the sink and gazed outside. Sure enough, a neat little chicken coop stood to the side of the house, surrounded by a small enclosure. A white rooster strutted across the ground, and a few Rhode Island Reds moved about. Chickens?

She turned and looked around the kitchen, feeling a little guilty that it had been so long since she'd been home. The old linoleum had been replaced with a nice blue-flecked tile, and the walls had been painted pale yellow. White curtains with a yellow and blue pattern hung at the windows. Green plants were in evidence, one hanging by the window to the porch, one on the wooden table, one sitting in a corner of the counter. It was nice, Dee Anna thought. Inviting.

She found the coffee and started a pot brewing, and she located cups and plates. Rummaging in the pantry she found biscuit mix. Realizing she was hungry, she decided to make breakfast.

She found a tablecloth in the same drawer they had been years ago. She smiled as she ran her hand over the rough cotton and the embroidered roses. Her Grandma, whom she'd never known, had been a skilled needlewoman. So had he mother, Dee Anna recalled. She herself had never managed to stitch anything worth keeping.

Not long afterwards, Bernice stood in the doorway, quietly watching Dee Anna set the table, noting how her daughter's tousled red hair gleaming in the occasional kiss of sunshine. Dee Anna was wearing pink fluffy slippers, Bernice noticed, and she smiled faintly. It was good to wake up to the aroma of coffee and biscuits. It was good to have Dee Anna in the house.

"Did you hear Ricky Rooster?" she asked, startling her daughter.

Dee Anna turned, smiling, "Ricky Rooster? Seriously?" She glanced toward the window. "He woke me up. When did you get chickens?"

"Oh yes, that's his name," said Bernice, moving to the table and sitting down heavily. "Your father decided I needed something to do that would get me outside." She frowned. "And he figured we could use the fresh eggs and a roasted bird now and again. So he got the chicks from a Mexican family over on Rogers Road. We bought eggs there sometimes."

Dee Anna poured coffee into Bernice's cup and handed her the carton of creamer. She was still absorbing the idea of her mother caring for chickens. "Ricky Rooster?"

Her mother snorted, half in scorn and half with amusement. "Mr. Hernandez has a heavy accent. Your father always said he sounded like Ricky Ricardo on the old 'I Love Lucy' show. So he named our rooster Ricky."

They grew silent, as Dee Anna cracked eggs into a skilled and then opened the oven door and pulled out the biscuits. "Perfect," she thought. "Ha!" She had a momentary desire to turn and say, "Are these good enough for you, Mother?" She sighed as she turned to the woman at the table. "I'm going to go wake Phil up."

Dee Anna had been surprised that Phil had come home instead of heading for his little place in town. He had pointed out the apartment complex to her as they'd driven home from the hospital. Arriving at the house, Dee Anna had made some tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches as their mother had taken a quick shower, and after they had all eaten Phil had insisted Bernice go to bed. She had offered no resistance. As Dee Anna had cleaned up the dishes from their small supper, Phil had gone outside. Dee Anna wondered why she hadn't noticed the chickens and decided maybe he'd gone outside to check on them. They'd headed for bed soon after, both tired and both feeling awkward.

She stopped at the closed door of his old room. She hesitated, feeling strangely out of time and place. She rubbed one hand through her hair as she knocked softly with the other. "Phil? You awake?"

The door opened suddenly, startling her, and she stepped back. "I'm up." Phil smiled. " Can't say I'm awake, exactly."

Her brother stood silhouetted in bright light from a window. He was dressed in jeans too, but instead of a sweatshirt wore a plaid western-style shirt with pearly buttons. He pushed his sock-clad feet into his boots, which were standing by the door. Dee Anna glimpsed some of his old basketball trophies sitting in a bookcase. It's been a long time, she mused, surprised they had not been thrown away years ago.

"All set, sis. I got my boots on...I'm ready for anything." He stepped into the hall and gave her a quick pat on the shoulder. "What do you do to your hair, woman?"

Dee Anna said nothing, but took his hand and moved to the kitchen. "I smell coffee," said Phil.

They were surprisingly hungry, even Bernice, and they ate in silence for several minutes. After a while, Phil put down his fork, looked up and said, "Good coffee. Good biscuits. Good eggs. Thanks, Danna." Dee Anna grinned, and Bernice said, "Of course they are." Her eyes were crinkled at the corners and a faint smile crossed her face. "I taught her."

They all had a second cup of coffee, talking of nothing in particular, but talking nonetheless. Then Bernice cleared her throat. Phil and Dee Anna looked at her, wondering what to expect.

"I want the two of you to know that I'm glad you came home." They waited. "It was hard sittin' in the hospital."

"I also want you to know that your daddy cares about you both. He missed you all those years," Bernice said to Phil, looking at him with a frown. "He worried, not knowing where you were. He loved you. I guess we didn't always show it like we might have." Phil looked at his plate.

"And you, Missy, don't you know how a father needs his daughter?" Dee Anna looked at her in surprise saying nothing. She thought, "Didn't always show it? Did you ever show it?" Ah, perhaps that was unfair. She did remember some times when her father had seemed to enjoy her company.

Her mother went on, "And you runnin' wild down in Dallas." Bernice stopped and cleared her throat. "Y'all know I'm a strong women, and y'all know your daddy is not always...." she stopped. "Well, Bud needed a strong woman, and I guess I was it."

Phil and Dee Anna were not used to conversations with their mother. Conversations about life had always been shared with each other, not with their parents. Looking at her mother, red hair in its eternal bun, faded but lovely face set in stern lines, Dee Anna realized that even as she'd longed for a mother like the ones some of her friends had, a mother that would hug her, take her shopping, whisper secrets--even though her mother had never been like that, Dee Anna had known her mother was strong and determined. She had known, somehow, that if she'd needed protecting it would have been her mother who stepped up to do the hard thing.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking, sitting in the hospital and wondering if your father was going to wake up or not." She put her head in her hands. Then she sighed, sat up and straightened her shoulders. "I remembered a lot of things. I remembered the feeling of waking up in the morning being glad to be alive. The feeling that I had all the time in the world. Wondering if I'd be someone great. I used to read about Madame Curie and wonder if I'd be a great scientist someday." As her children looked at her in surprise, she said defensively, "I was always good in science class, you know."

No, they hadn't known that. What else didn't we know, wondered Dee Anna.

Bernice stared at Phil, scowling. Dee Anna saw the quick flash of apprehension in his eyes, followed by the guarded expression he seemed to wear these days.

"I suppose lots of people wondered why I, a girl with a lot of promise, valedictorian of my high school class..." Another surprise. "Why," she went on, "I married a man like Bud. I mean, his family was known for not bein' very good farmers. His daddy was lazy." She snorted. "He was a happy man, but he didn't know how to work." Bernice's expression grew far away and surprisingly soft. "But you know, your father was a good-looking man. My father didn't like him much, but I didn't care. I used to sneak out of a night and go over to that place on the highway..."
Phil and Dee Anna had no idea what place she was talking about, but they sat very still.

"We used to dance." Bernice smiled to herself, remembering. "He was a good dancer, all right."

"Dance?" Dee Anna couldn't stop the word from coming, her eyes round. "You and Daddy went dancing?" She was remembering the time she'd gone to a high school dance with some friends and her father had somehow found out, He'd come into the gym and demanded she come home. Ironically, the dee jay had been playing Footloose.

Her mother's face grew hard and Dee Anna wished she had stayed silent. "Oh yes, we certainly did. Bud was the best dancer of all our friends. All the girls wanted to dance with him. My father warned me, but I was a headstrong girl and I didn' t listen." She frowned at Dee Anna. "And you wondered why we had to be so strict all the time, didn't you?"

Bernice pushed her plate back and crossed her arms. "I'll tell you why. Dancing leads to all sorts of trouble. It makes a smart and strong girl like me forget who she is. It makes everything crazy, that's what it does." She glared at Phil. "I had to go to my aunt in Houston after I got pregnant with you. My parents were mortified."

Phil stared. "Are you saying you and Dad got married because I was on the way?"

"No, I'm not saying that." She looked cornered, but she went on firmly. "No one could have convinced me not to marry him. He was handsome and sweet and could sing like Elvis--better, really."

"But you said you were pregnant, Mom?" Dennis reached across the table and put his hand gently on her arm. "You were pregnant and your parents were mad...and then you had me...is that right?"

Bernice let our a long breath. "Yes. I was a good girl, but I was foolish. I thought I was in love. And then one night...well...then you were on the way and that's all there was to that."

She closed her eyes. "I didn't mean to tell y'all that. I guess I am tired."

Dee Anna was speechless. She looked from her mother, who sat with her eyes closed, looking very old, to her brother, Phil. Phil's face was expressionless, and then suddenly he smiled. He looked at Dee Anna. His smile grew wider. He began to laugh, and his laugh grew louder. Bernice looked up, shocked, "What are you laughing at?"

Phil threw his head back and laughed and laughed some more. Tears ran down his face.

"Is that it? Oh, Lord have mercy...!" And once again his laugh filled the kitchen. His mother and sister stared.

Outside, Ricky Rooster said, "Er er errrrrrrra!"

Little Big Foot: At the Hospital

The hospital was little changed from what Dee Anna remembered. The entryway was flanked by a cactus garden. It also boasted a three foot high stone carving of the state of Texas which held an engraved likeness of the long-ago doctor who had established the hospital.

Inside, a small Christmas tree stood in the entry. The smell was the same as hospitals everywhere, that amorphous blend of Betadyne, floor wax, lunch, and illness. The walls were a minty grey color and the floors were beige linoleum with grey flecked squares. When she was a child she had thought the flecks were interesting. Once, when a cousin was having surgery, Dee Anna had waited in the family waiting room with her mother and her Uncle Chuck. She had tried to count the number of flecks in each square. She had lost track, she recalled, at 67. How could the floor be the same after all this time?

"What nonsense our brains retain," Dee Anna thought impatiently to herself. "I can remember a useless snippet of information from 25 years ago but I can't remember what Michael's voice sounded like." She sighed, feeling the stress of the last few days and the lack of sleep. She unconsciously ran her hand over the top of her head , making her red hair stand up with electricity.

Phil was at the nurse's station talking softly with a petite Hispanic nurse who was wearing a smock featuring Sponge Bob Squarepants. She looked familiar. Was the nurse Lupita, who she had graduated high school with?

"C'mon Danna," called Phil softly, beckoning her. "Dad's down this way." He strode ahead, his back stiff and his steps determined, the heels of his cowboy boots making sharp taps on the polished floor. Reaching the closed door of a room at the end of the hall, he stopped and waited for her, and when she stood beside him he reached out for her hand, surprising her. He grinned. "Good Lord, sis, what did you do to your hair?" The smile faded and he took a deep breath, squeezing her hand before he dropped it. "Okay, ready?" He tapped softly on the door and then pushed it open.

The room was dim, the shades drawn against the afternoon sun. Even in December it could be bright on the Texas plains. After a moment, they could see the thermal blanket across the hospital bed. There was an oil painting of a farmhouse with a windmill on the wall behind a vinyl-covered reclining chair. The chair was empty. The soft but insistent "thup whoosh" of a respirator was the only sound. "They still have beds with crank handles!" Dee Anna thought incredulously, avoiding looking at the occupant of the bed for a long moment.

Slowly she moved forward. Her father looked older, greyer, face more wrinkled. He was thinner than she remembered. His hands were folded across his chest. Was he dead?

Dee Anna's heart lurched for a moment before she realized that if he had died the respirator would not still be whooshing away. She touched one of his hands gently. "Dad, it's me, Dee Anna." She turned to her brother, who still stood by the door. It was Dee Anna's turn to beckon. "Phil is here too." Phil moved slowly to the other side of the bed, eyes blank. Dee Anna felt a quick rush of tears, wondering what her father would think if he could look at the man standing there. Phil said nothing.

The little nurse stepped softly into the room. "The doctor is just down the hall so should be here soon to talk with you. Your mother is in the cafeteria but won't be long." Her voice dropped, "She's been here for three days, sleeping in that chair."

Dee Anna glanced at her name tag. "Hello, Lupita," she said. "I don't know if you remember me. You were in my senior class." Lupita smiled warmly as she reached out to touch Dee Anna's shoulder. "I remember you. I remember both of you." Her slight Spanish accent made her words soft. "You were the prettiest little thing, but so quiet." She paused, "And you," she said to Phil, "played basketball. I remember." She glanced shyly at Dee Anna. "Is it true what I heard? Are you really a preacher?"

A soft tap on the door and then Doctor Martin came into the room, a heavier, more florid version of the doctor Dee Anna remembered. He seemed mildly surprised. "Well, hello. Nice to see you both after so long." He ignored Dee Anna but extended a hand to Phil and shook it briefly before moving to the bed and spending a few moments checking on his patient. "Let's go down the hall to the waiting room and I'll give you an update on your father's condition" he said briefly.

The two of them obediently followed him out of the room. Dee Anna remembered him giving her a shot of penicillin when she had been about eight and ill with bronchitis. She had been embarrassed that he had given her the injection in her behind, and she had fought back tears. More useless recollections, she thought, feeling suddenly powerless and wanting to disappear back into the room.

"Get with it, Dee Anna," she chided herself. "You are a grownup with a child of your own, you are educated and you are independent." She took a deep breath. "I am woman, hear me roar!" she thought ruefully, feeling anything but. She squared her shoulders and marched after Dr. Martin and Phil.

The little waiting room held coffee and a bowl of fruit next to a small sink. Dee Anna wished she could wash her face. She and Phil sat down side by side on a vinyl sofa and Dr. Martin pulled up a straight-backed chair. High on the wall behind him, a television with too-bright color was on and Oprah was interviewing some man in a Hawaiian shirt. The sound was off, and Dee Anna found herself trying to read Oprah's lips, feeling distant and far away from the doctor and the little room. Her shoulder's ached with fatigue and her eyes felt grainy.

Dr Martin cleared his throat and began, "I suppose you two have heard that your father had a heart attack and a stroke. His condition is uncertain at the moment, though scans reveal minimal brain damage. Frankly, I'm not sure why he is not breathing on his own, nor why he has not regained consciousness. I expected he would have done so..."

Her mother's tall figure filled the doorway. "Well, look who's here. Hello, children."

She sat down heavily in an armchair across from them. "How are you, Bernice?" asked the doctor, looking concerned. "You really should get some sleep." After a moment, he went on, "Bud seems unchanged. That may be bad news, but it may be good news. I want to do a few other tests." He looked at Phil. "Take your mother home and make her go to bed."

Dee Anna felt like someone should ask him a question, but she couldn't think clearly. He stood, moving to the door. Turning, he nodded to their mother, and added, "I'll call you as soon as I have something to tell you. It's been three days, so something should change soon, one way or the other. We'll take care of Bud. Go home and get some sleep. And eat some real food. I expect your daughter knows how to cook something."

The doctor's departure left the three of them sitting in silence for long moments. Dee Anna looked at Phil who was gazing intently at the coffee pot. She remembered the day he had left home after a bitter argument. She had sobbed for hours and spent the next day in bed. For once, her mother said nothing and didn't even make her go to school.

He'd been gone when she left for college and she had only seen him twice since. The last time had been just after Madeline was born, and then he had left for a job on some farm out in South Dakota. His letters, always infrequent, had eventually stopped altogether.

When he showed up at the airport his appearance had surprised her. Always lanky, he was now thin and his shoulders were bony. His face looked weathered, but not just from the sun. He looked like a man who had seen too much, and his eyes were sad. She knew he'd come home to Texas a couple of months before and she had heard that he had said little to anyone except that he was looking for work. He'd found a job at the Ford dealership. He'd made it known to their mother that he had been in a drug rehabilitation unit in Houston, that he was now clean and sober, and that he would go to church when he was good and ready. Her mother hadn't told her any of this, but she'd had heard it from a cousin who occasionally sent emails. She had sent Phil a letter telling him of her new congregation in Little Big Foot.

She glanced at her mother, who sat with her head back and her eyes closed, face drawn with fatigue. Her hair was still thick and as red as ever, Dee Anna noted, wondering if it was dyed. She realized that, even now, her mother was still a lovely woman. She could look so pretty, Dee Anna remembered, with that stately figure and her bun of burnished hair. And then she could look so angry.

Her mother's eyes opened and Dee Anna realized that they were full of tears. She could not recall ever seeing her mother cry, even when Grandpa died. Now tears shone in her eyes and then slowly ran down her cheeks. At first Dee Anna was too surprised to speak, but after a moment she rose and went to her mother's side. "It'll be okay, Mom." She patted her mother's shoulder a little stiffly. "He will pull through. He's always been healthy, even though he was heavy..." Her voice trailed off as her mother looked up at her. Dee Ann was shocked to see the stark misery in her mother's face.

Had she loved him then, after all?

"Oh God. What will I do if he dies? What will I do?" Her mother's face twisted in anguish. For the first time since she had hear her mother's voice on the phone, crisply talking about her father being in the hospital, Dee Anna felt genuine compassion. She knelt by the chair, putting her arms around her mother's waist and praying deeply, without words. Phil stood staring at the two of them, their red hair touching as their heads came together, one with a bun that was coming undone and the other tousled. That hair was about the only way they were alike, he thought. Their mother was not the sort to want comforting.

"I never thought this would happen. He's too happy-go-lucky to be sick," she wailed. Dee Anna said nothing, but she stayed where she was. After a moment Phil came behind his mother and patted her back, clearing his throat and feeling miserable. For long moments he stared at the speckled pattern of the floor, fighting his own tears and wondering what he was crying about.

He cleared his throat again. "Maybe we should pray," he said.

Little Big Foot: Phil

If you would like to start at the beginning of the "Little Big Foot" story, click on the link at the bottom of this post or the one in the sidebar. When you are redirected, scroll down to the bottom of the page.

Phil stood in the baggage claim area scanning the crowd, looking for Dee Anna's red hair. People were coming down the escalator, but there was no sign of her yet. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Would she be glad to see him? Would she be shocked, disappointed--or maybe glad? Would she stand back and look at him or would she she hug him?

What did she know of his life the last few years? He had no idea, really, but he knew it seemed like a very long time since he'd seen his kid sister. He sat down on a bench, suddenly feeling old and very tired. Much too tired.

He watched the people approaching the conveyor belt. There was a harried-looking mom holding a little girl about four by the hand and pushing a stroller with her other hand. He wondered why no one was helping her. And here came a beautiful black woman, hair cropped very short and a large pair of hoops dangling from her ears. She was dressed in an African-style caftan and looked like a model. A large man rushed up to her and enfolded her in a hug. Phil looked away.

Next came a family, all short, all round, all talking at once. Mom was clearly in charge, directing her husband in a loud voice. Phil sighed heavily. Where was Dee Anna? He leaned back against a concrete wall and closed his eyes. Just for a moment, he thought to himself. It sure had been a long couple of days.

It would, he hoped, be good to have Danna home. He smiled, remembering his long-ago nickname for her.

What a funny little kid she had been with that round face and even rounder green eyes. How she used to stare at the world, taking it all in. She'd been pretty quiet. Of course, who wouldn't be quiet when you never knew which word would set Mom off? Better to be quiet.

She'd talked to him though, sometimes, sharing things she had learned in school or asking him questions about whatever popped into her head. She did ask a lot of questions. Sometimes they would walk the mile into town just for the companionship and the quiet. He remembered the feel of her hand tucked in his. How could he have forgotten how vulnerable she had seemed?

He could see her as she sat at the kitchen table that long-ago Sunday morning, feet tucked into the rungs of the chair, looking down as their mother strode into the room. They were late again, he recalled, and that brought a memory of their mother's voice scolding Dee Anna for dawdling. Dad, as usual, had already escaped outside.

That was the day that he'd left home, standing on the highway with a duffel bag and nothing else. He shouldn't have left her, he thought sadly.

He opened his eyes and there she was, wearing a pair of black slacks, boots, and a green sweater, her hair short and looking a little tousled. She hadn't seen him, and she was wrestling a large, shapeless bag onto the top step of the escalator. She looked good, he thought. Pretty.

He stood up and she looked down and saw him. A look of surprise and...he couldn't tell what...crossed her face. He moved toward the bottom of the escalator and watched her descend. When she reached the bottom she kicked the bag off the step and shoved it to the side with one foot.

Phil stepped backwards, almost wanting to run.

"Oh, Phil! I didn't think you'd be the one to pick me up!" Dee Anna's smile was huge. " I thought Uncle Chuck was coming. I'm so glad its you!" With the sweetness he remembered, she threw her arms around his waist. After a moment his arms went around her short frame and he shyly bent to kiss her cheek.

Were those tears?

Dee Anna stepped back, putting her hands up to his cheeks and looking hard at him. He held her gaze for only a moment and then looked away.

"Oh, big brother," she said softly, "I missed you. I didn't realize how much."

He was afraid to speak. He swallowed hard and after a moment he said stiffly, "Yeah. Me too." He moved to the conveyor belt just as a forest-green suitcase came down the chute. "Yours?" he asked. It was Dee Anna's turn to feel speechless, and she nodded wordlessly. She hoped she'd done a good job of hiding her dismay at how he looked.

Lifting the suitcase off the belt, Phil looked back at her and smiled for the first time. Dee Anna smiled too. When he grinned like that he looked more like the Phil she remembered.

"Dad's car is not far" said Phil. C'mon, Danna, we can talk on the way home. We're stopping by the hospital before we go to the house. Mom's waiting for us."