Whispers from the Soul

Soggy earth soaked through her long wool skirt and icy dampness numbed her knees. The tiny pine casket blurred through hot salty tears. Leoma pulled her woolen cape more snuggly around her shoulders and shivered between choking sobs.
“First my husband, now my only child! How much more will you take from me, God? How much more?” All that remained for Leoma was an empty house and dashed dreams.
Without her beloved Jeremy the idea of going on alone in this desolate town seemed futile. And with baby Elizabeth gone her house was a hollow shell that echoed with sorrow. Would it ever be filled with happiness and laughter again? She didn’t expect life to always be fun or easy but this was more than she could bear.
Wondering if God had deserted her she lingered at the open grave alone. Moments earlier Reverend Gilroy and his young wife drove away in their surrey and soon after, her neighbors, George and Anna Jo Langley, drifted toward home on foot. Oh how she longed for the loving arms of her father and mother now.
Light mist shrouded the town. A frigid chill caused her teeth to chatter, but Leoma couldn’t pull herself away from the gaping hole. For the briefest moment she let her eyes stray through the gray haze. Across the cemetery a tall hunched man leaned like a giant question mark on his shovel, no doubt waiting to fill her daughter’s grave. The thought of him throwing piles of dirt over the box that held her tiny infant brought another agonizing sob from the pit of Leoma’s being. Her head dropped forward, her chin resting on her chest. What was it her father had said so many times over the years? God would not give a person more pain or suffering than he could bear. But Leoma’s heart was so heavy she couldn’t comprehend that teaching right now. How could it be true? God, if what my father said is true I desperately need your help—if you hear me. I want to believe Daddy’s words, Lord. I can’t endure another day unless you give me the strength.
A ray of sunshine pierced the gray clouds. Still kneeling Leoma straightened her back to relieve the burning ache in her spine and welcomed the heavenly warmth on her shoulders. She lifted her face for a moment, soaking in the warmth. Perhaps this was God’s promise of brighter days ahead. Oh, let it be so, Lord.
A deep male voice interrupted her solitude. She flinched. “Excuse me Ma’am. Are you Mrs. Fisk?”
Leoma stole a sideways glance at the man. A pair of muddy work boots filled the space beside her. Rising from the worn boots were log-like legs covered in rain-soaked denim overalls. Her eyes continued upward, beyond the expansive trunk and broad shoulders, into the face of anguish. Eyes as forlorn as the gray winter sky gazed down at her. She hadn’t heard him approach and didn’t appreciate him imposing on her last moments with her baby. Leoma looked away from the stranger and dabbed her nose with a soggy, crumpled handkerchief.
“I know this is a bad time, Ma’am, but Doctor Rhodes said I should talk to you right away. He said maybe you’d . . . well . . . my baby boy is starving.”
Unable to conceal her frown, and numb from exhaustion, Leoma craned her neck to look up at the man again. The physician hadn’t been able to save Elizabeth. Now apparently he couldn’t save this man’s child either. What kind of doctor did this town have, and why would he send a stranger to her at a time like this? It seemed the entire population of this forsaken dust-hole was void of proper manners or empathy. Couldn’t the man see she was burying her child? She wanted to be left alone.
Several moments passed before Leoma quelled the uncharacteristic contentiousness that had welled up within her. The man appeared as grief-stricken as she was. She softened her tone. “I don’t understand what you want from me.”
She stood slowly, her legs stiff from kneeling in the wet snow-crusted dirt. Her body shook and for a moment her legs almost failed to support her. Several weeks had passed since she’d slept soundly and her stomach was empty. Eating and sleeping had held little importance these days.
Back on that lovely summer morning when Leoma had learned she was carrying her first child she’d been elated. The world and everything in it was perfect. She had a wonderful husband, a lovely home, and she carried a child in her womb. Now, next to her husband’s grave their daughter lay in a wooden casket. Everything good and wonderful was gone in a flash. A lot of good your prayers did Mama. Mama was always praying about something.
Immediately ashamed of her disparaging thoughts, Leoma cupped her hands against her face and tried to squelch her anger. She sucked in a deep breath and exhaled the warmth onto her cold hands.
“Ma’am.” It was the deep voice of the stranger standing beside her. Leoma started, shaken from her meandering thoughts and intermittent outbursts. Through burning eyes she turned to face him and cringed. The smell of sour alcohol and cigarette smoke mixed with foul body odor accosted her senses causing her to step back.
“Excuse me.” Leoma’s voice was distant, cold. “I don’t know why Doctor Rhodes sent you to me. I can’t possibly help you.”
Leoma didn’t want to talk to this repulsive man or anyone else. How rude that he approached her here. “Go away!” she wanted to scream, but she bit her lips together. Arms crossed tightly across her chest, she shivered. Her gaze dropped to the ground.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Ma’am. But you see, the doctor told me you are the only hope for saving my boy from starving to death.”