The Little Sparrows Page 5

  Bob laid aside the Bible, folded her in his strong embrace, and held her tight, speaking soft words of encouragement.

  Soon the rain was coming down in sheets and the wind continued to howl. It seemed that the waves and the dark sky were crashing together. Bob was still holding Louise when they heard loud, panicky shouts outside from the crewmen.

  Bob let go of her, telling her he would be right back, and staggered to the cabin door with the ship swaying fiercely. He opened the door, and with the spray hitting his face, called out to a small group of crewmen who were clinging to a railing. “Hey! What’s wrong?”

  One of the men shouted back, “Some heavy cargo below deck came loose and crashed into the side of the ship! It’s taking in water! Cap’n Thraxton has ordered all crewmen to get down there and bail water! We’re trying to get there without being washed overboard!”

  “I’ll come and help!” shouted Bob.

  “No, sir!” the man shouted back. “You stay right there with your wife!”

  When Bob closed the door, Louise’s arms went around him like bands of steel. “Oh, Bob, I heard what he said! We’re going to sink! We’re going to drown!”

  Bob helped her back to the chair where she had been sitting, sat her down, and tried to calm her down, saying they would make it.

  She screamed, “The captain shouldn’t have believed that barometer! He shouldn’t have relied on it!”

  Bob could only hold her tight and attempt to relieve her fears.

  It only grew worse when the ship started to list to the starboard side. Louise cried out when she looked through the window and saw huge waves washing over the deck, with the crewmen trying to keep from being washed overboard.

  Suddenly the engines below went silent. Bob knew the ship was now at the mercy of the angry sea. Louise clung to him, digging her fingernails into his arms.

  Waves once split by the prow of the ship were now the size of foothills on the broadsides and came crashing down on top of the Hampton from stem to stern. All at once there was a crash so loud, the Marstons thought the ship would head for the bottom of the ocean at once.

  Abruptly, the cabin door came open, and Captain Duane Thraxton was there, clinging to the doorframe. “The ship is sinking!” he shouted. “We’ve got to get into a lifeboat quick! Come on!”

  Louise released a quivering wail of terror as Bob grabbed her, held her tight, and helped her to the door. When they were out on the pitching deck, Thraxton shouted, “Follow me!”

  As they struggled across the deck toward the lifeboats on the starboard side, the crewmen were climbing into them as fast as they could.

  Bob and Louise could see wooden crates bobbing on the surface of the churning sea, along with pieces of furniture and other debris from the ship.

  Suddenly the ship listed so far toward the starboard side that the captain and the Marstons lost their footing. A huge wave broke over the ship and carried them swiftly into the wild, angry sea.

  Louise screamed as they plunged into the water.

  Bob was still holding her in his arms.

  Chapter Four

  On Friday afternoon, April 17, Frances Roberts walked little Lizzie Marston into the girls’ bedroom. “All right, sweet baby, you have a nice nap now.”

  Lizzie paused at the side of her bed and looked up at her. “I’m really not sleepy, Mrs. Roberts. Do I have to take a nap if I’m not sleepy?”

  Frances smiled and ran her fingers through the girl’s curly blonde hair. “Like I told you yesterday, honey, your mama asked me to make sure you get your daily naps. It’s good for little girls your age to get a nap in the afternoon. Come on, get up on your bed.”

  Lizzie obeyed, and when she lay on her back with her head on the pillow, she set her eyes on Frances. “If I should go to sleep, will you wake me up before Mary and Johnny come home from school?”

  “I’ll do that, sweet baby,” she said, bending down and planting a kiss on her forehead. “I have a feeling if you lie here real quietlike, you’ll be asleep in no time. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Frances crossed the room to the door. She paused and smiled at the little girl. “Sleep tight.”

  “I’ll try.”

  Frances closed the door and headed down the hall toward the parlor.

  She smiled to herself, thinking how much she enjoyed taking care of the Marston children. She loved all three, but little Lizzie had found a very special place in her heart.

  Bob and Louise had moved into this house on the day they were married, and Frances had been with Louise at the birth of all three babies. She had come to feel very much a part of the family. As old age had come upon her, she no longer had the energy nor the stamina she once did when caring for the lively youngsters, but since Mary was mature for her eight years, she was a help to her. Even then, by the end of each day since Bob and Louise had been gone, Frances was more than ready for bedtime, when she could crawl into the soft bed in the guest room and indulge in its comfort.

  As Frances entered the parlor and eased into the soft overstuffed chair by the window, she thought about Lizzie, and how she had been especially energetic today. It was time for Lizzie’s “nanny” to get a little rest too.

  It was the sound of a neighbor’s dog barking across the street that brought Frances out of her sound sleep. She opened her eyes, rubbed them gently, and looked out the window. Across the street, Mrs. Chelton was scolding her dog for barking, and with a grip on his collar, was leading him back inside the house.

  Frances glanced at the grandfather clock on the other side of the room, and noted that it was almost three-thirty. Mary and Johnny would be home from school in less than half an hour. She rubbed her eyes again, and with difficulty—which was now normal—she left the chair.

  Moments later, when Frances quietly opened the door of the girls’ room and peeked in, she saw Lizzie lying on the bed smiling at her. “I been awake for a while, Mrs. Roberts.”

  “Well, I’m glad you went to sleep, honey. And that was a good girl to stay on the bed till I came to get you up. Want to go out on the front porch and wait for Mary and Johnny to come home?”

  “Uh-huh.” Lizzie rolled over on her stomach, slid off the bed, and hurried to Frances’s side.

  Moments later, they stepped out onto the front porch. Frances stepped to the railing, and leaning on it, ran her gaze over the colorful flowerbeds that surrounded the porch. Lizzie was waiting behind the comfortable canvas chair where Frances liked to sit. When Frances moved to the chair, the girl took hold of it to steady it, which was Johnny’s job when he was home.

  Secretly, Frances was hoping the older two would do something to occupy Lizzie when they got home, so she could get a few minutes’ rest before starting supper.

  Smiling, Lizzie stood in front of Frances. “Is there anything I can do for you, Mrs. Roberts?”

  Frances smiled. “Not that I can think of, sweet baby. Just sit over here in one of these chairs so you can watch for your brother and sister.”

  “How about I sing for you?”

  “That would be nice, honey.”

  “I been learning a new song in Sunday school. It’s called ‘Jesus Loves Me.’ Wanna hear it?”

  “Sure.”

  Lizzie took her usual stance for singing—one foot a half-step behind the other—and splayed her fingers, holding her hands at waist level.

  Frances smiled. Lizzie loved to entertain, and it showed in her eyes.

  “Jesus loves me, this I know;

  For the Bible tells me so.

  Little ones to Him belong;

  They are weak, but He is strong.

  Yes, Jesus loves me,

  Yes, Jesus loves me,

  Yes, Jesus loves me,

  The Bible tells me so.”

  Frances clapped her hands. “That’s really good, honey. God has given you such a sweet little voice.”

  Face beaming, Lizzie said, “I know another verse, Mrs. Roberts!”

  “All right. Let
’s hear it.”

  Lizzie adjusted her stance slightly, splayed her fingers again, and began:

  “Jesus loves me, He who died,

  Heaven’s gate to open wide;

  He will wash away my—”

  Lizzie heard a horse blow on the street, and saw a frown crease Frances’s brow as she looked that direction. Lizzie pivoted and saw two uniformed policemen dismounting from their horses in front of the house.

  As the officers started toward the porch, Lizzie turned to Mrs. Roberts. “How come those policemen are coming here?”

  “I don’t know, honey.” She noted the solemn faces of the officers.

  As the officers drew up to the porch steps, they both touched the brims of their caps. One of them said, “Ma’am, I am Officer Harold Demers, and this is my partner, Officer Ed Holbrook. This is the Marston residence, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, sir,” came France’s reply. “But Mr. and Mrs. Marston are not home. They sailed to Newfoundland a few days ago, and won’t be home till a week from today. My name is Frances Roberts. I live next door, over here on the east, and I’m staying here with the Marston children while their parents are gone.”

  Before either officer could speak, Lizzie spotted her brother and sister coming down the street. She dashed off the porch and ran toward them, calling out their names.

  Frances looked up at the officers, who both appeared to be in their early thirties. “The two older children are just getting home from school. Is there something wrong?”

  Officer Demers nodded and cleared his throat. “Yes, ma’am. We have some bad news, but we’ll wait till the children can hear it, too.”

  Frances’s face lost color. “Is it about Bob and Louise?”

  Demers cleared his throat again. “Ah … yes, ma’am. But I’ll only have to tell it once if we wait till the children are on the porch.”

  Down on the street, when Lizzie reached her sister and brother, both of them had already noticed the police officers on the porch.

  As they continued walking toward the house, Johnny asked, “Lizzie, how come those policemen are on our porch?”

  Lizzie shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  Mary frowned. “How long have they been here?”

  “Jus’ a few minutes.”

  Mary looked at her brother. “Johnny, I can tell something is wrong by the look on Mrs. Roberts’s face.”

  Johnny focused on Frances. “That’s for sure.”

  Mary took hold of Lizzie’s hand and looked at Johnny. “Let’s run. Take Lizzie’s other hand.”

  On the porch, the officers were watching the Marston children hurry their direction.

  Frances said, “I think it would be best if you tell me what this bad news about Bob and Louise is. If something has happened to them, the bad news could devastate the children.”

  Officer Ed Holbrook said, “Ma’am, we will be as gentle as possible, but it is our duty to tell them what has happened. We have orders from our chief.”

  Frances bit her lip.

  All three children were puffing as they reached the porch and bounded up the steps, eyes fixed on the uniformed men. Johnny and Mary still gripped their sister’s hands.

  Demers bent down, hands on his thighs just above the knees. “Children, I am Officer Harold Demers, and this is my partner, Officer Ed Holbrook.” His eyes centered on the oldest. “I know your last name is Marston. What is your name, honey?”

  “Mary.” Her voice quivered slightly.

  “And how old are you, Mary?”

  “Eight.”

  He nodded, then set his eyes on the next oldest. “And what is your name, son?”

  “Johnny.”

  “And you’re how old?”

  “Six. And my little sister’s name is Lizzie. She’s four.”

  “What’s wrong, Officer Demers?” Mary asked.

  Demers looked at Frances. “Could we go inside and sit down?”

  “Of course,” said Frances, and began her struggle to get out of the chair.

  Johnny let go of Lizzie’s hand and stepped to Frances, offering both hands. Officer Ed Holbrook stepped up. “I’ll help her, Johnny.”

  The boy moved back and nodded.

  When they were in the parlor and seated, the officers were facing Frances and the children. Lizzie sat between Mary and Johnny on the sofa, and Frances was next to Mary. Lizzie reached for her sister’s hand, sensing that something bad had happened. The siblings sat close together, their wide, troubled eyes fastened on the two police officers.

  Demers sat on the edge of his chair. He cleared his throat, fixing his gaze on the children. “Mary, Johnny, Lizzie … I have some bad news for you. I wish it could be different, but … but I must tell you that the ship your parents were taking to St. John’s, Newfoundland, was in a fierce storm on the Atlantic Ocean yesterday, and—”

  Demers cleared his throat again. “The ship sank some twenty miles off the coast of Nova Scotia. All but two crewmen were able to get into lifeboats and make it to the Nova Scotia shore. They—they reported to the Nova Scotia authorities that the ship’s captain, your parents, and the other two crewmen were thrown into the sea by a huge wave that swept across the deck, and—and went into a watery grave. This information came to police headquarters by wire from the Nova Scotia authorities.”

  Frances’s arm slid around Mary just as she and Johnny burst into tears. Seeing this, little Lizzie did the same, though she did not quite understand what had happened.

  With tears flowing down her own wrinkled cheeks, Frances said, “Babies, listen to me. I know this is horrible news, and my heart goes out to you … but you must understand that your mama and papa are in heaven with Jesus.”

  Suddenly, Johnny jumped off the sofa and dashed out of the parlor. He bolted through the front door, crossed the porch, and ran around the corner of the house. They all saw Johnny run past the parlor’s side window, heading toward the backyard.

  Wiping her own tears, Mary said, “Mrs. Roberts, I need to go to Johnny. Lizzie, honey, you stay here with Mrs. Roberts.”

  Frances valiantly gathered her wits about her. She leaned over, picked Lizzie up, and sat her on her lap. “Go on, Mary. I’ll take care of Lizzie.”

  Mary hurried after her brother.

  The officers watched Mary go, then Ed Holbrook set his gaze on Frances. “Mrs. Roberts, are there any relatives who can take the children and raise them?”

  “No. There is no one.”

  Demers and Holbrook looked at each other.

  “This is bad,” said Demers. “We’ve got to find someplace for these poor children.”

  On Frances’s lap, a puzzled Lizzie looked up into her face. There was a dull look of sorrow in her faded brown eyes. Frances drew a shuddering breath. “Officers, I would like nothing better than to take these three precious children into my home and finish raising them, but it just isn’t possible. I’m almost eighty-two years old. They need someone younger and much more capable than I.”

  Demers nodded. “Yes, ma’am. We understand. Would you happen to know anyone who might take them in?”

  “Only one thought comes to mind. My pastor—who is also the Marstons’ pastor—may have someone in the church who could take them.”

  “All right,” said Demers, taking a small paper pad from his shirt pocket, along with a pencil stub. “Would you tell me your pastor’s name and where he lives?”

  Frances gave him the information, which he wrote down.

  Then Holbrook asked if the Marstons owned their house.

  Frances nodded. “Yes, but there is a mortgage on it.”

  “I see. Well, we will have to let the court handle it.”

  Mary caught up to Johnny in the backyard as he stopped and leaned against a tree, still sobbing. She took him in her arms and held him. As he sobbed, he bewailed the fact that their parents were dead, and that the three of them had no one to care for them.

  Mary caressed her brother’s face. “Johnny, as Mrs. Roberts said, P
apa and Mama are in heaven with Jesus. We will be with them someday. The Lord loves us. He will take care of us. Please don’t worry.”

  Johnny looked at her through his tears. “We won’t be able to stay in the house. Where will we live?”

  Mary bit down on her lower lip. She was trying to fathom the enormity of their predicament, but it was too much for one so young.

  Louise had experienced a difficult time giving birth to Lizzie some four years earlier and had never completely regained her strength. From that time, Mary had always been her helper. She had learned to do many things in the past four years that most girls her age would find impossible to handle. Her mother had always been there to guide her, but now, Mary was overwhelmed with the task of comforting both Johnny and Lizzie without that guidance.

  “I don’t know where we will live, Johnny, but the Lord will see that we have a place to live, food to eat, and clothes to wear.”

  Johnny looked at her, his eyes puffy and red. “He will do that, won’t He?”

  “Yes.”

  Johnny’s lower lip quivered. “I miss Papa and Mama.”

  “Me too. But just think how happy they are now. They are with Jesus.”

  The boy frowned. “But don’t they miss us?”

  “Of course they do, but being with Jesus in heaven is the most wonderful place to be. Mama and Papa know that you and I are saved, Johnny. They know that we’ll be together with them in heaven someday. And you remember what Pastor Moore preached a few weeks ago about babies and little children going to heaven when they die? You know. It was the Sunday after Mr. and Mrs. Kirtland’s little baby boy died.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Well, if anything happened to Lizzie right now and she were to die, she would go to heaven because she is too young to understand about sin and how to be saved. In his sermon, Pastor Moore showed from the Bible how when Jesus died on the cross and shed His blood, he provided for babies and little innocent children who would die. Mama and Papa know this. And when Lizzie gets old enough to understand these things, you and I will show her in the Bible how to saved, and we’ll lead her to the Lord.”