Through It All

Chapter 9

Toasty warm inside their barnhouse, the Manns entertained themselves there as the blizzard continued nonstop for most of the next two days. Upon opening their door, they discovered the snow's final measurement to be level with the wagon seats.

Staring at the insurmontable mound blocking the exit, Heinrich said, "Well, I guess this means we're all staying inside awhile longer."

Albert groaned, "Oh . . . we can't go sledding or do anything fun!"

"Can't do anything fun, huh?" Lifting Albert onto his shoulder, Papa said, "What have we been doing for the last few days, son?" Laying him on the floor, he held both Albert's hands still with his one hand. While kneeling on Albert's legs, Papa tickled his son's side mercilessly. "Mama, we're gonna have to think up another chore, because Albert hasn't been having enough fun. I know," he roared. "We'll send him to shovel out hog manure!"

Mama clapped and they all laughed until their sides hurt.

Ernest glanced over to notice Herr Bachmeier wasn't laughing. The truth is it hasn't been all fun. There was a lot of work hauling extra firewood to the barn before it got too deep. Extra meat from smokehouse and carrots and apples from the fruit cellar. Then the never ending hauling of snow to melt into sufficient water.

This is the first time Papa has let us laugh this loud since Herr Bachmeier came home with us. After Papa got him warm and dry, he slept a very long time. Then he did nothing but chew ginger root, drink ginger tea, eat lots of soup, and sleep some more.

Herr Hans just sat on his cot, rubbing his eyes. Observing Herr Hans' taut cheekbones as he raked his stiffened fingers through his hair, Mama knew the idea of being trapped inside must be tortuous. She felt certain it took enormous self-control for Hans Bachmeier to keep under composure. I'll bet normally Herr Bachmeier would've torn his house apart by now. Yet he does look much better. Their guest still had the reddened, haggard face of a drunk, but not one in the misery of a hangover.

With lips pressed tightly together, Herr Bachmeier stood up and announced, "I'll do it! I'll go shovel the manure."

Papa went with him. Their muffled voices continued quite awhile as Herr Bachmeier did the chores several hours early. Without warning, they heard a shout, a clatter, and a nervous whinny. Albert raced to peek to the barn entrance just in time to see Papa steady Frisky.

"I just can't take it! I . . ."

With one hand clutching Herr Hans' collar and the other fist raised ready to fight, Papa barked, "You can . . . and you will! This is my home and you'd better remember it!" Papa used his free hand to raise their guest's face to meet his own. "Now I'm only going to ask you once to put the shovel away."

Herr Bachmeier sized him up and after a moment, he loosened up and Papa let him go. He picked the shovel up and put it away.

"Albert!" Mama called her son away from the door.

Heinrich continued, "Now that we have an understanding, I'm going to talk to you like I would a brother. There are some things in life we just can't control, so we have to accept it. Yes, that includes resigning ourselves to being confined here for who knows how much longer."

With trembling hands, Hans sighed and shook his head. Running a hand through his hair, he began to pace.

"Hans, do you know how close you came to dying out there along the road? You were totally covered with snow and it was so very cold that night. There was no way anybody could find you, but my horse called me over to investigate. I'd say you'd better thank God. You know if it wasn't for God, you would still be along the road. Who knows when your body would've been found! And as long as you're here, it's time you gave a long, hard look at your life."