Quiet.
No wind rattling the windows. No dirt raining down from the ceiling.
Elsa opened her eyes in the cautious way theyโd all perfected. She pulled down the mud-encrusted bandanna that covered her nose and mouth, and brushed the dirt from her eyes. It took her a moment to focus. When she sat up, dirt pattered to the floor.
She checked on Ant first thing, wakened him by easing the gas mask off his small, bony face. โHey, baby boy,โ she said. โStormโs over.โ
Ant opened his eyes. Elsa could see the effort it took. There was no white in his eyes at all, just a deep, angry red. โI canโt โฆ breathe.โ His dirty, blue-veined eyelids fluttered shut.
Heโs getting worse.
โAnt? Baby? Donโt go to sleep, okay?โ
He tried to wet his lips, kept trying to clear his throat. โI feel โฆ bad โฆ Mommy.โ
Elsa brushed the damp hair back from her sonโs forehead, felt how hot he was.
Fever.
That was new.
Elsa had a deep fear of fevers, a remnant from her youth, a reminder of her own illness.
Elsa uncovered the pitcher beside the bed and poured water into the crockery basin. Then she dipped a washrag into the lukewarm water and
wrung out the excess and laid the cool, damp cloth across his forehead. Water dripped down the sides of his face.
Elsa poured a small bit of water into a glass, helped him to take two aspirin. โPretend itโs your grandmaโs lemonade. Sweet and tart.โ She gave him a teaspoon of sugar laced with turpentine. It was the only remedy they knew to combat the dust he breathed in, even with the mask on.
Ant drank a tiny amount and gulped down the sugar, then closed his eyes and sank deeper into the pillow.
Elsa had just released a breath when he suddenly arched up, his body seizing, his fingers curling into claws, his red eyes rolling back in his head.
Elsa had never felt so helpless in her life. There was nothing she could do; she sat there, watching the seizure wrack her little boy. The seconds seemed to last forever.
When it ended, she took him in her arms, held him tightly, too shaky and frightened to soothe him.
โHelp me, Mommy,โ he said in a cracked voice. โIโm hot.โ He needed help.ย Now.
She didnโt care if there was no money. Sheโd beg if she had to. โIโll help you, baby.โ
She scooped him into her arms, blanket and all, and carried him through the house. As if from a distance, she heard the family yell at her. She couldnโt stop, didnโt care about anything but Ant.
She made it out to the porch before she realized they had no horse. Nothing to pull the wagon. The driveway stretched out in front of her, desolate and bare.
The ground was hard and flat in places, scoured to hardpan by the wind, which had also torn through barbed wire as if it were strands of hair, ripped it away, sent it flying. There were bits of it on every building; tumbleweeds stuck to it and then were covered in drifts of sand.
She saw a wheelbarrow standing upright, half buried in sand. Could she do it? Push him two miles to town in a wheelbarrow?ย Of course.ย She could take him as far as she needed to.
She walked unsteadily toward it and lay him down in the rusted scoop, his spindly legs hanging over the edge. She positioned his head carefully on the blanket.
โMo-mmy?โ he wheezed. โThe light โฆ hurts.โ
โClose your eyes, baby,โ she said. โGo to sleep. Weโre going to see Doc Rheinhart.โ
Elsa picked up the rough wooden handles and headed for the driveway. โElsa!โ She heard Rose yelling for her, but didnโt stop, didnโt listen. She
was in a panic toย go,ย to get him help. She knew it was crazy, knew she was a little unhinged, but what else could she do?
โElsa, let us help!โ
Elsa plunged forward. The wheelbarrow seemed to fight back. She felt every bump in the driveway, every furrow like a blow to her spine. She made it to the main road.
Desolation. Sand in heaps. Sheds covered by it; fences fallen. She turned onto the road and kept going, breathing hard.
Heat beat down on her. Sweat blurred her vision, ran between her breasts in itchy streams.
She stubbed her toe on something buried in the sand and stumbled. The wheelbarrow was wrenched out of her hands, clattered forward. Ant hit his head on the ground.
โIโm sorry, baby,โ Elsa said. Even she couldnโt hear her words, her throat was so dry. She looked down at her left palm, skin torn away, bloody. Her blood darkened the handles.
She resettled Ant in the wheelbarrow and fought to move forward; before sheโd taken a full step, she felt a hand on her shoulders.
Tony stood there, with Rose and Loreda on either side of him. โAre you ready to let us help you now?โ
โYou donโt have to do it all yourself,โ Rose said.
โYeah, Mom,โ Loreda said. โWeโve been yelling for you. Are you deaf?โ Elsa almost burst into tears. Very slowly, she set the wheelbarrow down. Tony took hold of the handles, lifted the wheelbarrow up, and started off.
Loreda moved in beside him, took over one side.
โYou made it nearly a mile,โ Rose said, tenderly smoothing the damp hair from Elsaโs dirty forehead.
โIโm justโโ
โA mother.โ Rose reached down for Elsaโs hands, lifted them, looked at the torn, bloody palms.
Elsa steeled herself. Her own mother would have scolded her for her stupidity in not wearing gloves.
Rose slowly lifted one of Elsaโs hands, kissed the bloody skin. โThat used to make it all better for my foolish son.โ
โIt helps,โ Elsa said. It was the first time in her life someone had kissed an injury of hers to make it better.
โCome. My husband is not as young as he thinks. It will be my turn soon.โ
LONESOMEย TREE WAS Aย ghost town.
Tony pushed the wheelbarrow down Main Street, past the boarded- up storefronts. The once-thriving feed store had been taken over by the Red Cross and converted into a hospital.
The plains cottonwood was gone. Someone must have cut it up for firewood after it died of thirst.
At the makeshift hospital, Tony picked up Ant, who groaned and coughed.
Inside, the narrow building was shadowy and dark. The windows had been boarded up to keep out the dust and wind. Red Cross nurses wore uniforms that had once been starched white and were now a wrinkled gray. A doctor hurried from bed to bed, stopping just long enough at each to make an assessment and bark orders to the nurses following along behind him.
Tony carried Ant into the room. โI have a child here who needs help.โ
A nurse approached them. She looked as haggard and drawn as everyone else. โHow bad is he?โ
โBad.โ
The nurse sighed heavily. โA bed came open this morning.โ They all knew that meant someone had died from the dust. The nurse gave Elsa a sad look. โItโs been bad. Come.โ
Elsa followed Tony into the room full of wheezing and coughing patients.
They settled Ant on a cot in back, beneath a ten-foot window covered by wooden boards. Even so, the sill was stuffed with rags. To the left, a cot held an old man who fought for every breath. A mask covered his eyes.
Elsa knelt beside her son.
Heat radiated off of him. She touched his hot forehead. โIโm here, Ant.
We all are.โ
Loreda sat at the end of the cot. โWeโre gonna play checkers. Iโll let you win.โ
Ant coughed harder.
Moments later, Rose came back with the doctor. She was holding on to his sleeve in a death grip. No doubt Rose had grabbed the poor man and dragged him over here. Somehow, Rose still had a fire in her. Elsa couldnโt imagine how she kept it lit in all this falling dirt. The doctor leaned down to take Antโs temperature.
The doctor read the thermometer, then examined Ant and sighed. โYour son is seriously ill, which Iโm sure you know. He has a high fever and is suffering from severe silicosis. Dust pneumonia. Prairie dust is full of silica. It builds up in the lungs and tears away the air sacs.โ
โWhich means?โ
โHeโs breathing in dirt and swallowing it. Filling up with it. Thereโs no other way to put it, but youโve done the right thing to bring him here. This is the best place in town to be in a dust storm. We will take good care of him, I promise.โ The doctor glanced down at beds full of wheezing, coughing, sweating, dying patients. โTry not to worry.โ
โIs he dying?โ Elsa asked quietly.
โNot yet.โ The doctor touched her shoulder, gave her a gentle squeeze. โYou need to go home now, let me help him.โ
Elsa knelt beside Antโs cot. She buried her face in the hot crook of his neck, nuzzled him. โIโm here, baby boy.โ Her voice broke. โI love you.โ
Rose gently pulled Elsa to her feet. It took all of Elsaโs self-discipline not to wail or scream or fall apart. She had no idea how she found the strength to turn around and meet her mother-in-lawโs sad gaze.
โWe have some butter,โ Rose said in a tight voice. โWe could make him a cookie or two, bring them back tomorrow, along with some toys and his clothes.โ
โI canโt leave him.โ
The doctor stepped closer. โEveryone here is either an infant, a child, or an old person. Each one has someone who wants to sit with them. Thereโs no room for visitors. Go home. Sleep. Let us take care of him. For a week at least. Maybe two.โ
โWe can visit, canโt we?โ Loreda said.
โOf course,โ the doctor said. โAnytime you want. And thereโs other kids here for him to play with when heโs feeling better.โ
Elsa said, โWhat ifโโ
The doctor stopped her. โYouโre going to ask what they all ask. Hereโs what I can say: If you want to save him, get him out of Texas. Take him somewhere he can breathe.โ
Rose put an arm around Elsa; it was the only thing that kept her upright. โCome, Elsa. Letโs go make our boy some treats. Weโll bring โem by tomorrow.โ
ELSA STOOD AT THEย edge of the dead wheat field. Dry brown dirt lay in dunes as far as she could see. It was nearly four oโclock now and still the sun beat down. Hot and dry. The windmill turned slowly, creaking, doing its best.
She wanted to believe that rain would come back and the seeds would sprout and this land would thrive again, but hope was something she could no longer afford, not when Ant was lying on a cot, coughing up the dirt in his lungs, burning with fever.
Dust pneumonia.
That was what they called it, but it was really loss and poverty and manโs mistakes.
She heard footsteps behind her; they came with that new shuffling-sand sound, a kind of whisper, as if man were afraid now of disturbing the earth that had turned on him.
Tony came to a stop beside her. Rose stepped into place on her other side.
โHeโs dying here,โ Elsa said.
Dying.
It wasnโt just Ant. It was the land, the animals, the plants. Everything. The sun had burned everything to dust and the wind had blown it all away. Millions of tons of topsoil gone.
โWe need to leave Texas,โ Elsa said. โYes,โ Rose said.
โWe can sell the cows to the government. Thatโll help some.โ Tony said. โTheyโll give us thirty-two bucks for the two cows.โ
Elsa drew in a deep, painful breath and stared out at the dead, brown land. She didnโt want to go into the unknown with no job and almost no money. None of them wanted to leave. This wasย home.
Above their heads, the windmill creaked and the blades turned slowly. Together, they walked back to the farmhouse, dust rising from their feet.