Almanzo gets caught in a very nasty summer storm complete with heavy wind, thunder and lightning, which sets a tree on fire. Story complete in one chapter
The Lightning Storm
End of June, 1889
“Come on, Beth,” Almanzo said, looking up at the sky. “I don’t want you out here too much longer. That baby can come any minute and Doc Baker said…”
Laura smiled and kissed him lightly. “That things should be smoother the second time around. “
Almanzo wrapped his arms around her. “I know, Beth, I heard him. I just don’t want anythin’ goin’ wrong. That’s all.”
“Then stop worrying so much, Manly.”
He handed her the egg basket that he got from Rose earlier. “Jenny and Rose are still huntin’ eggs . By the time we’re done, we should have plenty for the rest of the day.”
Laura smiled. “Or at least enough for some nice hot egg toast served with butter and sugar. And you can make your fabulous scrambled eggs to go with them.”
The wind howled and moaned against the barn windowpanes. It almost knocked the hat Almanzo was wearing off clean off his head. Far off in the distance, Manly heard a clap of thunder and a bolt of lightning lit the sky.
“It was nice of you to come out here to tell me that you’re going to start breakfast, but I really think you should be getting’ back inside, Laura,” he said . “I don’t like how it sounds out here.”
“Alright,” Laura said smiling, kissing him lightly. “I’m going to start breakfast and I want you inside all safe and sound.”
“I’m gonna go into the barn and see how Jenny and Rose are doing.” He swayed her back and forth. “Listen to me, please. I don’t want to lose you or the baby.”
The wind was kicking up and getting stronger.
“Looks like I might have to end up patchin’ that roof again.”
They stared at each other. “Almanzo, I….”
“Don’t worry, Beth. I’ll be right in with Jenny and Rose. Don’t worry about a thing.”
“Manly, if you can be worried about me, why can’t I worry about you? And don’t tell me it’s different.”
He smiled and kissed her “I can’t help it, Beth. I love you too much.”
“Oh, Manly,” she said, pulling him close and holding on to him tightly. “I love you, too.”
And with one last look his way, she walked inside the house.
He watched her as she closed the door and he walked into the barn.
“Jenny, Rosey,”
“Uncle Manzo?”
She came running over to him. She had the milk pail in her hand. Almanzo took it from her. “Where’s Rose?”
“I left her with the chickens. She wanted to feed them and get some eggs. She wanted you to make some this morning.”
“Alright,” he smiled and kissed her cheek. “I’ll go look for Rose. When you get inside, you take this to the root cellar and do as I showed you. Bring up one small milk pail and help out your Aunt Laura with breakfast, okay? I’ll be in as soon as I get Rose.”
Another clap of thunder sounded. Jenny looked up at him, her face worried. “It sounds like the storm’s getting closer, Uncle Manzo.”
“Papa?” A little voice called out, “Papa? Jenny?”
“Go ahead,” Almanzo said. “I’ll get her and bring her inside.”
Jenny smiled and nodded her head. She took the milk pail out of his arms and hurried to the front door.
Another thunder clap sounded and Almanzo could see streaks of lightning in the sky.
“Papa?” Rose said, running over to him. “Papa, I found some eggs. Maybe you make some later?”
Almanzo smiled. “I can’t carry you and the egg basket, Rosey Posey, not if I want to keep those eggs of yours from breaking.”
The tree in front of them suddenly lit up. A bolt of lightning had struck it not two seconds ago causing the trunk to split in two.
And it set the tree on fire.
“I’ll be right back, Rosey Posey,” he told her. “I’ve got to try to put out this fire.”
And he opened up the door a crack, but Rose wouldn’t budge. “Not without you, Papa.”
The wind picked up again battering the windows of the barn. There was still thunder and lightning, but no rain, not yet. Almanzo noticed that the flames were higher now and starting to spread outward.
Fueled by the heavy wind, the door to the barn moved back and forth, as if a ghost was opening and closing it. Almanzo wasn’t paying any attention to it as he moved closer to the barn. He thought of one thing and one thing only, getting the fire out before it spread and put everyone in danger.
“Rose,” he said, turning back to face her. “You’ve got to tell Mama Beth that I might….”
The barn door hit him with such force that it knocked him to the hard ground.
“Papa?” Rose called out by door, “Papa?”
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Jenny was setting the table for breakfast when she heard Rose’s cries for her father and she ran to the door. When Jenny asked her what was wrong, she pointed to Almanzo who was still lying on the ground. The barn door was still swinging back and forth in the wind.
“Aunt Laura?”
“What’s wrong, Jenny,” Laura asked, coming out of the kitchen area.
“It’s Papa, Mama Beth,”
“Rose,” Laura said, bending down to take the egg basket from her hand.
“Where’s Papa?”
“Papa is outside. He fell. ”
Laura frowned and looked at Jenny who took the basket of eggs out of Laura’s hands and put it on the table.
“Mama?” Rose said, tugging at her sleeve. “Come see. There is a tree on fire.”
”Show me and Jenny,” Laura said, standing up and taking her hand.
Rose took hold of her hand as she led the way.
The wooden door to the house was not closed properly and it blew back and forth, similar to the barn door. Laura took no notice, all she saw was her husband, who, by this time, was sitting up and holding his head.
“Almanzo,” Laura exclaimed, her eyes widening. She ran over to him, but was stopped by the fire, which had separated them and was now out of control.
The flames were bigger now and spreading upwards and outwards. If Laura didn’t do something about the fire soon, the flames would cover the grass, inch its way over to the barn and whatever stood in between, including her husband. The fire would consume everything within its path. She had to do something and quickly.
“Beth,” Manly said, looking toward his wife. “You’ve got to get help.”
“Uncle Manzo, I’ll go. Something might happen to the baby. You both stay here. I can take Rose with me.”
Almanzo looked at Laura, then at the fire, which had grown and had spread to the prairie grass.
“If you want to go Jenny, you’ve got to do it now.” Almanzo told her, “Beth will bring Rose and me inside. Stop by the Carter’s first and get John to take you down to Doc Baker’s office and bring him here.“
But Rose wasn’t listening. She was already halfway down the hill and moving toward the Carter place. She turned back and looked at Jenny.
Jenny took one last look at her aunt and uncle and ran down the hill to join Rose. Almanzo and Laura watched as they disappeared and then turned to each other.
“Isn’t there a bucket in the house?” Almanzo asked, as the flames that between them began to spread even wider.
Laura nodded and started to run. She felt the pains in her stomach reminding her that she should be taking it easy, but it was too late for that now.
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“Manly, they’re coming, I see them. “
The fire wasn’t out yet, it had only gotten worse. Every time Laura poured water on the flames, they sprouted up again, thanks to the wind. There was still thunder and lightning in the skies above, but no sign of rain, at least not yet.
“There’s a bunch of wagons,” Laura said, standing up, but Almanzo told her to sit. “You’ve got to take it easy, Beth. That baby is due in a month and half. You’ve done enough.”
The first one to arrive was Isaiah Edwards who took charge of everything. He took Jenny and Rose off his wagon and surveyed the situation. The next one to arrive was the Carter family and behind them were Doc Baker and the Olesons, believe it or not, all of them.
“Get in the house, Half-Pint,” Mr. Edwards called out. “Take Jenny and Rose with you. We’ve got this.”
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“Another lesson in stone soup,” Almanzo sighed, putting his right arm around his wife. His left one was in a sling.
“It was a good breakfast though,” Jenny said, as she stood up to clean the table. Their guests had just left. “Uncle Manzo, those eggs of yours were delicious.”
“They’re Grandma Ingalls recipe,” Almanzo said, standing up, letting Laura help Jenny with the dishes. “I just add a little something to them.”
He walked over to where the towel was hanging and waited patiently for Laura to hand him his first dish.
“Now, you know Doc Baker told you let that arm rest up for a few days,” Laura said, handing him a plate. “I shouldn’t have even let you make those eggs; I don’t care if Doc Baker gave you permission.”
“Well he did tell me to take it easy, anyway,” Almanzo looked at her. “It’s only bruised a bit, Beth. It’s not like it’s a broken or anything.” He grabbed the plate with his right and dried it with his left. When it was done, he placed the dish in the cabinet behind him. “It is a little hard to move around though, but I’m managing. Hey, maybe when the arm’s better, you’ll teach me how to make that great egg toast.”
Laura shook her head and handed him another. She watched him to see how well he maneuvered with only one working arm. “Sit down before you break something, Manly. Let Jenny do it.”
“Laura, I’m perfectly fine, I can handle this with….”
But Manly couldn’t hold on to it and the plate almost dropped. If Jenny hadn’t caught it at the last minute it would have broken.
He looked up and saw both women staring at him. Almanzo smiled sheepishly and let Jenny take the dish towel.
“Alright, I’ll see what little Rosey’s up to.”
“I’m okay, Papa,” Rose called out from Jenny’s room.
“Sit, Manly and let the women handle this,” Laura said, kissing him lightly. “But you’ll get the job back in due time, don’t you worry.”
And Almanzo shook his head and sat down in the rocking chair. Never argue with a woman, he thought, especially when they’re all in agreement. He had learned that the hard way.
Authors Note:
Egg toast or French toast as it is commonly known, was introduced in the United States in 1871. French toast doesn’t come from France; it actually has many different names. It is also known as German toast, Spanish toast or egg toast. There are several reasons why it’s referred to as French toast. One of them comes from an Old Irish term “to French” which means “to slice.” The recipe came with the Irish immigrants when they settled in the United States during the Great Famine. The British referred to it as “lost bread” and the Romans dipped slices of bread into milk (and sometimes eggs) before frying them. French toast also has its own holiday which occurs on November 28th.
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