The Rag Princess

(November 1932, Lincoln County, Nebraska)

Surprised and a little disappointed, Shirley sat and listened to the rain. A huge blizzard had been forecast this day, but instead, a cold downpour now flooded across the land. Yesterday, folks had scurried about, and readied themselves for a big dumping of snow. Al, her husband, had checked on the fuel supply, he wanted to assure himself that there was plenty to keep the house warm for the duration of the storm. Yesterday, Shirley had spent the better part of the morning lugging up canned goods from the cellar, and hauling down boxes of thick winter clothes from the attic. Just after lunch, she’d driven into Brady for more groceries, and on the way back home she’d stopped at Edwards Drugstore for a jar of Vanco rub. Her four year old son, Howie, was suffering from a bout of croup, and was in need of the rub’s soothing vapors. Mr. Edwards, the drugstore owner, made the jelly-like substance at home in his basement.

This morning, Howie had awakened bright eyed and energetic, and seemed to have gotten over the worst of it—thank you Mr. Edwards. After finishing his breakfast, Howie raced to the closet and put his coat and rain boots on. Shirley could hear his cute whining from the kitchen. “Come on, Mommy! It’s time to get the mail!”

“Hold up Howie,” Shirley said, getting up off her chair.” First, let’s buckle up those boots of yours. While I’m doing that, why don’t you button that strap under your chin. That’s it. Good job.” Shirley grabbed Al’s coat, and the two of them headed out the door.

“Wait up, Howie!” Shirley yelled. Snatching the boy’s shoulder, she quickly pulled Howie in under the umbrella. Shirley liked feeling the wet drops that hit against her face .The rain pounded down ferociously, and mud puddles sprouted up like magic all over the driveway. Fascinated by these small lakes, Howie took it all in with delight. “Look,” he said, pointing at a puddle. “Mommy! Can I go swimming?!”

“Howie,” Shirley said, “we don’t swim in mud puddles. You know better than that.” The flickering strobes of lightening unnerved Shirley, and she felt anxious to move him along. She pointed ahead. “Look at that.”

The mailman’s car, slipping and sliding, along the country road, almost careened down the side of a ditch as it made its way to the next stop. “It’s cold out here,” Shirley said with a shiver. She tugged on Howie’s hand to move him along faster. They finally reached the short wooden post that held a small, dented metal container that served as their mailbox. “Here honey, hold this over your head, while I get the mail.” Just then, a steak of lightening flashed to the ground. It seemed almost close enough to catch. It startled Shirley, and she quickly ducked down and put her hand over her face and screeched.

“Mommy, I’m scared!” Howie whimpered, and dropped the umbrella.

Still feeling fearful, and wanting to get them both safely back to the house, Shirley’s voice became shrill and she snapped, “Put that over your head.” She saw a look of hurt exude from Howie’s eyes and she suddenly felt guilty for snapping at him. “Sweetie,” she said, her voice turning smooth as she tried to comfort the child, “we’re fine. I’ll just get this mail, and then we’ll scram back to the house, okay?” Shirley was fearful of being struck by the lightening, and she looked up at the sky first before taking hold of the steel lid and gingerly pulling it open. She grasped the small pile of mail that was inside, but gasped when she saw a violet colored envelope. Without looking at it, she quickly stuffed it inside one of her coat pockets and began a mad dash for home.

“Mommy, slow down,” Howie begged. He was traveling so fast that it took all of his concentration just to keep up with her. The umbrella he was holding dragged along behind him on the ground.