Read Then Came Heaven for Free Online Page B

children to be quiet and obedient while he and Sister Regina left the room. He told her he would go himself to call Gus Drong and get the buses here as soon as possible. He asked Sister to go to the other three classrooms and inform the other nuns that school was being dismissed and why.
    Returning to the hall, Sister was not at all surprised to find that two of Eddie’s brothers and their wives had already heard the news and had arrived, along with some older nieces and nephews and one of Krystyna’s sisters, Irene Pribil, who was weeping copiously in Eddie’s arms. Krystyna’s parents were there, too, hugging their grandchildren and weeping. Browerville was so small that it took no time at all for the word to spread that one of its young had died tragically. Up and down Main Street and from farm to farm, the news traveled like a prairie fire, in many cases without even the benefit of a telephone. Krystyna Olczak was especially well loved by the women of the town, for she took in sewing and gave home permanents in her kitchen to earn pin money. She was a member of the Sacred Heart Society and the Third Order of St. Francis, and volunteered to set up the booths for the church bazaars and to decorate the outside altars for the feast of Corpus Christi. She contributed pies and cakes for bake sales and drove the nuns to Long Prairie when they needed their eyes checked, and took carloads of children out to Horseshoe Lake in the summer to swim, and in general, brought a dazzle of energy and willingness to all the works of charity she performed for so many. She was to the town’s society what Eddie was to St. Joseph’s: the one you could always call on to do more than her share.
    It was no surprise that the crowd began to grow even before Eddie could get his children out of the school building. They continued arriving in the dimness of Paderewski Hall, hugging him, weeping with him, gulping back tears as the women knelt before Eddie’s children and tried to console them, and the men offered to finish Eddie’s daily work for him—sweep the classrooms, wash the blackboards, take in the flag and lock up the building.
    It was Eddie’s brother Sylvester who said, “Nobody’s rung the death toll yet. You take the kids home, Eddie, and I’ll do it.”
    Eddie—dry-eyed now, but trembling visibly—replied, “No, Sylvester, I want to do it myself.”
    Father Kuzdek was back by this time and interjected, “Eddie, Eddie, why put yourself through it? Let Sylvester do it.”
    Eddie stepped back and raised his hands as if pushing open a heavy door. “No, sir! No, Father! She was my wife and now she’s gone and I’ve rung that bell for everybody who’s died for the last twelve years, and now I’m going to ring it for her. I got to, see? ’Cause what would she think, my Krystyna, seeing... seeing someone else ringing the bell for her? She’d think, why, where’s Eddie? How come he’s letting Sylvester ring that death bell? And I thank you, Sylvester, for offering, but this...” Eddie’s voice broke. “... this is my job.”
    The crowd in the shadowy hall remained silent. Eddie’s children stood one against each of his legs, with their temples on his ribs and his hands on their shoulders. Lucy, who hadn’t sucked her thumb since she was three, had it buried to the knuckle in her mouth.
    “I’d appreciate it, though, if you’d take Anne and Lucy home. That’s what I’d like you to do, all of you... take the girls home.”
    Some doubtful glances were exchanged. Some feet shifted. Some voices murmured reluctant agreement.
    “All right, Eddie,” Sylvester said, gripping Eddie’s arm. “If you’re sure.”
    “I’m sure.”
    “All right, then.” Sylvester dropped his hand. “You want me to wait out on the church steps for you?”
    “No... no, you go along with the rest. I’ll walk home when I’m done. Girls,” he said, dropping down to one knee, “you go with Uncle Sylvester and Grandma and everybody, and