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Win an Instant Vacation to Pittsburgh
On Friday, May 19th one lucky person will win a trip for 4 to Pittsburgh to see the Phillies play the Pittsburgh Pirates
By Reading Fightin Phils | May 13, 2017 1:49 PM ET
During the Friday, May 19th Reading Fightin Phils game fans will have the opportunity to enter and win an instant vacation to Pittsburgh to see the Philadelphia Phillies play the Pittsburgh Pirates on Saturday, May 20 & Sunday, May 21.
Fans can enter to win the Phillies at Pirates instant vacation thanks to White Star Tour & Travel Center, Rhoads Limousine Service, and 830 AM WEEU. Entires will be accepted from 5 pm through the first inning of the game.
After the Fightin Phils game the finalists will be escorted onto the playing field for the final drawing to determine the grand prize winner. The lucky winner may take 3 guests with them and will immediately leave in a Rhoads Limousine from FirstEnergy Stadium to Pittsburgh, PA for a weekend vacation for two evenings.
The trip will include two nights of lodging in Pittsburgh, PA, 4 tickets to Saturday and Sunday's Pirates game at PNC Park, and transportation from Rhoads Limousine to Pittsburgh on Friday evening and back to Reading on Sunday afternoon.
Pack your bags and be prepared to leave immediately for an all expense paid instant vacation in Pittsburgh! Or just go to Pittsburgh with only the clothes on your back, the options is yours!!
Purchase Tickets for May 19th Fightin Phils Game
This story was not subject to the approval of the National Association of Professional Baseball Leagues or its clubs.View More


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2.39 in the morning.
reading recruitment and selection text book. but stuck at the same page for quite a long time.
and here i am, typing this useless post *sigh*.
i'm easily get distracted huh??
oh ya, i just took a few movie from my roommate's friend. okay let me rephrase it. actually i took more than 10 movie. so it can't be consider as a few right?? LOL.
well, that is my habit when it comes to the end of semester. to collect as many movie and drama as i can for the semester break stock.
okay thats all. i'm going to continue my reading. and i hope that i'm not going to get distracted for the second time, third, fourth and so on :)

subset: commoncrawl


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Have HVAC Questions? Ask an HVAC Expert for Answers
Hello and thanks for using this service, if you have been waiting do not worry or get upset I am just one of the techs on here and I try to get to as many customers as I can and I just picked up your question now. Please give me time to respond sometimes I get your replies late so there may be a delay in my response.
Ken you likely have a bad thermopile have you checked or replaced that on the unit? That is the device with the wires to it and the most likely cause of the problem. You can check it with a volt meter for 350+millivolts at the valve where the RED and WHITE wire connect to the valve.
We are on the honor system for our time, all I ask is please rate my service using the STAR RATING LINK on your page before you leave. If you are not happy with the service please let me know before leaving a negative rating. This is the only way I am paid or credited through the site for my time. This will also allow you to get directly back to me for FREE follow up questions and tips are greatly appreciated! Thanks
No the thermopile is completely different that the thermocouple. The thermopile is the large sensor by the pilot.
Ok I will be out for just a bit but will post back. The only two things that typically cause that issue is a bad thermopile or bad valve not much else.


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Repousse Kirk sterling silver 925/1000 set 8 place settings with old style knives
Quantity available: 1
This incredible set of Kirk Repousse is marked 925/1000, and all have the same lovely script monogram. For questions about this set and other pieces of Kirk Repousse contact Green Door Antiques.
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Dealer accepts: Money Order
Shipping: Negotiated with Seller


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New Delhi: Realty analysts in the country say it is critical for DLF Ltd, India's top real estate firm by market value, to revive sales and cash flows in the next two quarters failing which, they say, the firm may be forced to start selling chunks of its land holdings and sharply reduce home prices.
The developer's plans to make good receivables from DLF Assets Ltd (DAL), a firm owned by the realty firm's promoter family, will weigh heavily on its shares, they added.
DLF, late on Thursday, announced financial results for the fourth quarter (Q4) and full year of fiscal 2009. Net profit at the firm declined 41% to Rs4,629 crore for the fiscal year gone by, from Rs7,812 crore in fiscal 2008, and revenue declined by 28% to Rs10,541 crore. The results were released at 10pm.
Stretched resources? A DLF residential complex in Gurgaon. Rajkumar / Mint
A survey of six analysts by Mint last week had projected that DLF's net profit would decline 38.59% and revenue shrink by 35.86%.
DLF's performance in Q4 to 31 March was worse. In that quarter, it posted a 93% decline in net profit at Rs159 crore, from Rs2,177 crore in the year-ago quarter. Revenue in the quarter declined by 69% to Rs1,351 crore.
Also Read Rise in DLF shares unexplained
One analyst projected a vicious circle ahead for DLF. "If the status quo continues, DLF will not be able to generate cash in which situation they may miss deadlines on project completion...and to generate cash flows, they will have to start selling land or refund their buyers if projects get delayed," this analyst, working at a domestic brokerage firm, said on condition of anonymity. "Sales need to happen for DLF to generate cash and if it does not happen at current price levels, they will have to bring down prices further."
In an emailed statement, DLF said that around 450 flats in its so-called affordable housing segment have been booked across India at the end of Q4.
"DLF has already reduced prices at some of its projects—the only company to do so—and we might see some more price reduction at its other projects during the next few quarters," another analyst with a domestic brokerage firm, who too requested anonymity, said. "The company might also sell some of its land and other assets, but that would be mainly to bring down its debt position."
DLF, which did not release any data for Q4 other than a press statement, had debt of around Rs15,525 crore at the end of the December quarter. The firm has in the past released detailed financial data through a presentation on its website, but that was not available until late evening on Friday.
Analysts expressed concern over DAL, a firm that buys completed projects from the developer and is majority-owned by the family of DLF chairman K.P. Singh. DLF, which stopped sales to DAL in Q4, has not delivered to the promoter firm the amount of constructed space originally planned, the firm said in the statement, adding DLF had received nearly Rs800 crore as advance from DAL in the quarter.
It was not immediately clear if this had brought down the money DAL owes DLF, which as of end-December totalled Rs5,500 crore.
Since its founding a little over two years ago, DAL has received a funding of $1.15 billion (Rs5,773 crore today), in total from Symphony Capital Llc., DE Shaw and Co. Lp and Lehman Brothers Holdings Ltd. Symphony acquired Lehman's stake in DAL in November last year.
In March, there were reports that DLF was buying DE Shaw's stake in DAL or merging DAL with itself. It has so far declined comment on such rumours.
"Till the time DLF sorts out the DAL issue, we will not revisit our rating on DLF," an analyst with an international brokerage firm, who did not want to be identified, said. The firm has an underperform rating on DLF.
Analysts attribute the sharp fall in net profit for Q4 and the year end to DLF's suspension of sales to DAL. "We will not have a visibility on future earnings of DLF till the DAL issue is sorted out," the analyst said. "The company needs to clarify on DAL."
A fourth analyst, again at a domestic brokerage firm, said he expected both revenues and profits to "decline sharply in the next few quarters" since sales to DAL were not taking place. "...the market is now looking at what DAL owes to DLF and what kind of structure DLF is going to come up with for DAL. Either way, there will be a loss in valuation of DAL and (investors) want DLF promoters to take the entire loss in valuation."


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Potato-And-Cheese Purée
Recipe by momaphet
This a French peasant dish; a rich and indulgent treat that is comforting and delicious.
Top Review by breezermom
Oh Delicious! I had to leave the horseradish off half so my son would eat it, as he didn't think he'd like the horseradish taste. LOL......turns out he actually loved it, so I ended up just getting a taste of it with the horseradish. Served with prime rib as a "welcome back home from college" dinner. The horseradish potatoes were perfect with the prime rib. Highly recommend the gruyere cheese. It adds such a depth of flavor. Thanks for sharing. Made with extension for PRMR tag. Thanks for sharing!
See Discussion:2 Reviews
Ingredients Nutrition
- 2 lbs yukon gold potatoes (6 medium)
- 4 garlic cloves
- 1 1⁄4 teaspoons salt
- 3 tablespoons butter, softened
- 3⁄4 cup whole milk
- 3⁄4 lb cantal cheese (5 cups) or 3⁄4 lb gruyere cheese, coarsely grated on large holes of a box grater (5 cups)
- 1⁄2 teaspoon black pepper
- 2⁄3 cup chilled heavy cream
- 2 tablespoons drained bottled horseradish
Directions See How It's Made
- Peel and cube potatoes cover with salted water in a 4- to 5-quart heavy pot and simmer until very tender. Drain in a colander. While potatoes cook, mince garlic and mash to a paste with 1 teaspoon salt using side of a large heavy knife.
- Put potatoes through a ricer into the saucepan or mash really well by hand or use your KA mixer with the paddle, then put back in the pot. Add butter, garlic paste, and milk and cook over moderately low heat, stirring vigorously with a wooden spoon, until fluffy and heated through, about 2 minutes. Add cheese and pepper and cook, stirring vigorously with a heatproof rubber spatula or wooden spoon, until cheese is melted, smooth, and almost taffylike, about 10 minutes.
- Preheat broiler. Butter baking dish. (If using 6 individual gratin dishes, butter and put on a baking sheet.) Transfer potato mixture to baking dish, smoothing top.
- Beat cream in a bowl with an electric mixer until it holds soft peaks, then beat in horseradish and remaining 1/4 teaspoon salt. Spread horseradish cream over potato mixture and broil 4 to 5 inches from heat, rotating gratin if it isn't browning evenly, until golden, 1 to 2 minutes.


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Creole Dump Chicken
READY IN: 55mins
Recipe by TishT
Another easy recipe you just can go wrong with - freeze ahead or eat right now! Enjoy :)
Top Review by Heydarl
This was a nice, easy recipe. I prepared it on the weekend using thigh fillets & froze, thawed it overnight in the refrigerator & cooked tonight when I got home. Served with rice. I found the sauce very thin, but the taste was lovely. Will definitely make this again. Thanks for sharing this keeper.
See Discussion:4 Reviews
Ingredients Nutrition
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 1⁄4 cup onion, Chopped
- 1⁄4 cup bell pepper
- 1 garlic clove, minced
- 14 ounces diced tomatoes with basil and oregano (undrained)
- 2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
- 2 teaspoons red wine vinegar
- 1⁄2 teaspoon dried basil
- 3⁄4 teaspoon cajun seasoning or 3⁄4 teaspoon creole seasoning
- 1 tablespoon brown sugar
- 1⁄4 teaspoon salt
- 1⁄4 teaspoon pepper
- 1⁄4 teaspoon Tabasco sauce
- 1 1⁄2 lbs chicken pieces
Directions See How It's Made
- For immediate cooking: Preheat oven to 350º.
- Mix all ingredients but the chicken together.
- Place chicken into a prepared baking dish, and pour sauce over the top. Bake until chicken juices run clear - about 45-60 minutes for chicken pieces, or 20-30 minutes for chicken breasts.
- For freezing: Place all ingredients into a 1 Gallon freezer bag. Lay flat in freezer.
- To cook from the freezer: Thaw in the refrigerator.
- Preheat the oven to 350º.
- Empty the contents of the bag into a large baking dish and bake until the juices run clear *See above cooking times.


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Kevin Rorke, Buckeye Cop, Cleared of Wrongdoing in Black Friday Arrest at Walmart; Suspect Jerald Newman Files Notice of Claim Vs. Town
Jerald Newman was left bloodied by police at a Walmart last Black Friday after being accused of shoplifting. He's now suing over the incident, while the cop who body-slammed him has been absolved of wrongdoing.
Town of Buckeye police officer Kevin Rorke has been cleared of wrongdoing in the bloody Black Friday arrest at a Walmart of shoplifting suspect Jerald Newman.
No charges were ever filed against Newman, either.
And now Newman is suing the town, says Buckeye police spokesman Lieutenant Jared Griffiths.
(A Buckeye Risk Management official returned a call after this article was published and told us Newman hasn't yet begun litigation, but has filed a notice of claim against the town in which he demands $500,000. If the town rejects the claim, Newman could sue.)
The Black Friday case made headlines worldwide back in November after Newman was body-slammed by Rorke at the Walmart in front of a stunned crowd of shoppers, some of whom said Rorke had acted with excessive force.
Some shoppers told reporters that Buckeye police officer Kevin Rorke had acted with excessive force against Newman.
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Police accused Newman of trying to hide a video game under his shirt and resisting arrest. Newman, meanwhile, a resident of Fontana, California, who was in town to visit family members, claimed he'd stuck the video game in his waist momentarily while trying to protect his grandson from an unruly mob.
Criminal charges against Newman were submitted to the Maricopa County Attorney's Office, then resubmitted after a request for more information, but no legal action has yet been taken against Newman by the prosecutor's office.
Because of the accusations of police brutality, Buckeye officials asked the Arizona Department of Public Safety to review the events.
UPDATE -- Newman's Mesa lawyer, Todd Nolan, tells us on June 22 that DPS sought a charge of aggravated assault against Officer Rorke, but that the Maricopa County Attorney's Office decided not to prosecute. Nolan's still waiting to see that DPS report -- and so are we. We'll get back to you with another update on this...
Rorke returned to full duty on May 17.
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FatherTime - Forgot Bout Dre
Credits & Info
- Uploaded
- May 16, 2006 | 11:19 PM EDT
- File Info
- Song
- 3 min 57 sec
- Score
- 2.75 / 5.00
Licensing Terms
Please contact me if you would like to use this in a project. We can discuss the details.
- Score:
- Rated 2.75 / 5 stars
- Plays & Downloads:
- 700 Plays | 247 Downloads
- Share Links:
- Genres:
- Hip Hop, Rap, R&B - Hip Hop - Modern
- None
Author Comments
Rated 4 / 5 stars
I'm not a big listener of hip-hop and the such, but this wasn't too bad at all. It had some interesting moments, though the backround was slightly repetitive, I guess it's just like that. But overall, this wasn't too bad.
-A diversion in the backround, except for drums, would really suit you nicely. But nice job. Keep pushing your limits!
P.S. Check out some of my stuff, especially my new techno release.
Rated 5 / 5 stars
Nice Remix... however
Some parts don't sync up like it should. Perhaps by speeding up the tempo to match the lyrics. The first verse worked great, but it starting going out of time from the second verse one. The chorus lined up perfectly.
Overall the remix isn't that all bad. The biggest gripe I have is how the song lines up overall. Work on that for your next remix and you've got a kickass trend going on.
I'll ten this one, but a three goes for the votage.
Keep kickin'
Rated 4 / 5 stars
Pretty good
Nice work man. The lyrics got a little bit ahead of the beat sometimes but it was good. Keep it up.


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Stevi BS
2667 Powder Springs Rd SW, Ste 114
Marietta, GA 30064
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(678) 384-0052
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2480 East-West Connector


text:
19y.o. college student is very focused on her academics and working to finance her own college education.
So she's very surprised that popular tatooed frat-boy Hero would suddenly take an interest in someone as bookish and ordinary as her.
He's known for his man-ho reputation among the many college girls at his beck and call. The night she finally lets loose with him,
she gets some bad medical news. It's at her surprise that Hero actually wanted to stick around and help her get through her needed medical procedures. She's not sure where their relationship stands. When she wants to go further physically, he limits their involvement.
But he's constantly by her side and seems to care about her welfare. What's keeping him from going further?
The Hero in this book made the romance sweet and strong. He was a man-ho who made a convincing transformation into a 1-woman-man. His constant reassurances that heroine was important to him and the only one who made him feel that way were sigh-inducing. Over and over, he proved that she could depend on him even when she rejected or diminished his caring. I loved that he saw through her emotional turmoil and was steadfast where she was not. It really was wonderful to have this partying frat-boy turn into such a responsible & supportive man, who got emotionally beat-up at times and neglected even more often by heroine.
Heroine was likeable overall. She was understandably in great turmoil because of the cancer news she was hit with. Her normally stable, organized, and quiet life suddenly changed into a scary, painful, and diminishing one. The time she decided to free herself from her self-imposed limits and have a good, uncomplicated time with Hero only lasted a few minutes before her world got overturned by cancer. Her identity and focus became wrapped up with cancer. No matter how much others tried to console or confront her about her negative focus, she couldn't get past it. Again, it was understandable given what she was going through medically. But her repetition of how broken she was, despite how others reassured her otherwise, got tiring. Maybe it would've helped me be more sympathetic with her if the emotional tone of the book pulled at my emotions. The even emotional tone of the book instead prevented me being fully immersed in what really was a poignant and emotionally difficult moments in their lives.
The character growth of Hero and heroine was a plus. It's interesting how heroine's cancer (technically, dysplasia) changed things both in bad and good ways. It helped Hero mature, be other-focused, and become more responsible. Although heroine went downhill with her attitude and identity, she did pull herself out of her pessimistic funk with help from the tough-love of her sister and Hero. She realized how her negative self-absorption was detrimental to her relationships. And she sought out to fix them right away. Heroine became like her old self but an improved & matured version. It was just like Hero, though, to come back for her and even apologize for his tough-love with her. I didn't like him much in the beginning but Hero sure made this book worthy to read.
I moderately recommend this book.


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What happened?
Two vulnerabilities were discovered in the LastPass browser extension.
What is the risk?
In certain circumstances, these vulnerabilities could be used to steal passwords or run malicious code, though there have been no confirmed incidents of stolen data or passwords.
What has LastPass done?
All versions of the LastPass browser extension have been updated to fix these vulnerabilities and are being pushed to clients. Instructions for checking your update status is available at the LastPass blog post on the topic.
What should I do?
Click Wisely: Security vulnerabilities are often exploited by tricking people into clicking unsafe or unexpected links.
Apply Updates: Keep auto-update enabled for your browser so security updates get applied immediately.
Use Two-Step Verification: Even if a password is stolen, your account is still protected if you use two-step. Learn how to enable two-step for all your services by visiting twofactorauth.org.
More Information:


text:
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#1 in the South
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We'll help you find the right solution for your needs
Does this sound like your topic?
Practice areas
Divorce, Child Support, Parenting Plans, Custody, Alimony, Maintenance, Separation, Prenuptial, Adoption,
17 years, 900 cases
Landlord, Tenant, Eviction, Unlawful Detainer, Neighbor disputes, Tree Law, debt, Fair Debt Collections Practice Act,
17 years, 75 cases
|Award name
|Date granted
|King County Bar Association
|Certificate of Volunteer for Neighborhood Legal Clinics
|Company name
|Law Office Of Barbara Varon
|2000 - 2001
|Association name
|Position name
|Clallam County ProBono Lawyers
|Board Member
|2012 - Present
|Clallam County Bar Association
|2012 - Present
|Clallam County Pro Bono Lawyers
|2011 - Present
|Washington State Bar Association
|2000 - Present
|Peninsula Dispute Resolution Center
|Board Member
|2012 - 2013
|Clallam County Bar Association
|President-Elect (2013)
|2011 - 2012
|American Bar Association
|2000 - 2007
|King County Bar Association
|2000 - 2006
|Neighborhood Legal Clinic
|Volunteer Family Lawyer
|2000 - 2010
|School name
|University of Colorado School of Law
|Juris Doctorate
|University of Colorado - Boulder
|Political Science, International Affairs
|Bachelor of Arts
Posted by Wes
Mr. Medina represented me well in my case regarding custody and my parenting plan revision. I am a single non-custodial father that just wanted fair and equitable time with my kids. Their mother and I were working off an outdated parenting plan that had many holes in it. Derek was very good at helping promote fair change that was adopted into the new plan. We went to trial over differences due to the kids moving further away and Mr. Medina fought to minimize my pick-up travel distance. When the kids mother refused visitation after parenting plan revision, Derek ensured contempt was charged and i have had no visitation no-shows since. He is aggressive in court and knows how to put it all together to give proper representation. If provided good documentation by his clients, I am confident Mr. Medina can help you to reach a fair outcome that is in the best interest of your children.
Posted by anonymous
Mr. Medina represented me for 14 months in a divorce case. In that time period he never filed discovery or iinterrogatories that could have helped my case in mediation. Eight weeks before trial he informed me that if I did not give an additional $5000 he would not represent at trial. Mr. Medina is the worst lawyer I have ever had.
Posted by Mel
Over the course of many years, I have required legal counsel in different states where I have resided. Therefore, I feel qualified in commenting on the quality of the legal services I have received from Mr. Derek Medina.
I was, and still am, totally impressed with Mr. Derek Medina's commitment to providing his clients with outstanding services (the best I have ever received). Mr. Medina's responsiveness has been the most prompt that I have experienced from ANY legal counsel. Another trait of Mr. Medina's that I feel is important to mention is his sincerity and focus about alleviating or solving his client's issues. I am completely satisfied with the legal services I have received from Mr. Medina. Through his patient efforts, a very stressful and vexing, long-term problem was resolved.
I have no hesitation whatsoever in recommending Mr. Derek Medina as legal counsel.
Joseph Wolfley, Personal injury Attorney
Relationship: Opposing Counsel on matter
I have worked on the other side of a number of cases with Derek Medina. I always smile when I find out he's on board. He's a good man who works hard for his clients. He keeps me on my toes.
Edward Chung, Litigation Attorney
Relationship: Fellow lawyer in community
Derek Medina is a first class Family Law attorney who is dedicated to serving the needs of his clients and bringing order and guidance in what is oftentimes is one of the most difficult periods in individuals lives. From my personal observations, he is respected in the courts and very familiar with the day-to-day mechanics of our legal system. Moreover, he does not hesitate to challenge or back down from opposing counsels and works diligently not just for his clients, but with them.
Cash, Check, Credit card
210 East Fifth St
Port Angeles, WA, 98362


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Review for MeasureIt by batmonkey
Didn't Work for Me Rated 1 out of 5 stars
I'm in 15.0.1, and there's no icon in my status bar nor any other way to interact with add-on. Recommend that this be made usable on right click or from navigation toolbar, at least optionally.This review is for a previous version of the add-on (0.4.10.1-signed).
Thanks for the feedback batmonkey. You can add the button for MeasureIt to any Fx toolbar you choose. First right-click on that toolbar, choose "Customize", then find the MeasureIt ruler icon. From there you can drag/drop it into any toolbar for easy access to MeasureIt.
And thanks for the idea re: launching via a right-click.
~ Kevin
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There is no danger of Sheffield going off the rails when it comes to train travel.
Operator East Midlands Trains is celebrating double success after winning praise for safety standards and seeing the city's station highly commended at annual industry awards.
The approach the company, alongside its partners, Network Rail, the Samaritans, British Transport Police and ASLEF takes to 'taking ownership of suicide on our railway' was also highlighted as the best in the country.
Campaigns, training and publications raising awareness on the issue impressed judges, while Sheffield railway station narrowly missed out on being crowned best large station in the country at the National Rail Awards.
David Horne, managing director of East Midlands Trains, said: "I am delighted that the efforts of our team have been recognised in what is such a crucial area of work."


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Rice Paper Rolls With Turkey ( Low Fat)
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READY IN: 20mins
Recipe by Latchy
A very tasty roll adadpted from a recipe found in a abc magazine
See Discussion:
Ingredients Nutrition
- 200 ml hoisin sauce
- 60 ml rice vinegar
- 1 small red chile, seeds removed if you don't like hot, finely chopped
- 300 g of cold cooked turkey (the leg meat is probably best)
- 20 large rice paper sheets
- 1 -2 lebanese cucumber, cut into approx 20 by 5 cm long matchsticks
- 5 thin spring onions, cut into approx 5 cm lengths
Directions See How It's Made
- Place the hoisin sauce, rice vinegar and the chili in a small bowl and stir to combine well.
- Shred the turkey meat and place in a bowl and stir through half the hoisin mixture to coat the meat.
- Soak the wrappers, one at a time, in a bowl of hot water until they are just softened, remove and shake off any excess water.
- Lay on a damp clean absorbent cloth and place 1 tablespoon of turkey meat at one end, place 2-3 sticks of cucumber and a few spring onion pieces on top.
- Fold in sides and roll to enclose, cover with a damp cloth while you make the rest.
- Serve the rolls with the remaining hoisin sauce.


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Nancy Wayson Dinan
|To Where She Was Set Loose
Esther Marie Greenhall received the news of her father's death on a Friday afternoon in March as she sat alone in the schoolhouse, smelling the hickory smoke from the heating stove and resting her feet on the riser underneath it. She sat in the chalk dust and ate Miss Lydia's brown bread spread thick with currant jelly. She did not eat with the students at the dinner hour, because their hungry gaze made her feel guilty, and she relished the few minutes in the afternoon after the students left but before she closed the door to the little board-and-batten schoolhouse behind her. She would have shared with the children if there had been enough, but she was not our Lord and Savior who could feed the many with a single slab of bread.
The knock at the door troubled her, and not only because her afternoon meal was interrupted, or because it seemed to her that there was no real refuge. No, the knock on the door troubled her because she knew its brisk rap as the knock of a messenger, and she could think of very few messages she would receive. Just the one, she thought; just the report that her father did not finish the winter. When she'd returned to Gonzales in December, she'd held out hope he'd survive the snake bite he'd received in the last warmth of October summer. One look at his leg had revealed there was no hope to be had. It had shrunk, was dead weight, and swung at an odd angle. When he'd pulled his trousers up, she'd put her hand to her mouth in both surprise and revulsion; the poison had rotted him from the inside and his leg had been black-gray and shriveled, ashy like a log burned on a hearth, caught in that moment before disintegration and collapse. She'd said: "Father," and he'd only nodded.
"Survived one," he told her. "Thought I'd survive this one." Later, but before she'd returned to Cuero and to Miss Lydia's brown bread, Esther's brother Jeremiah had told her about the hoodoo her father had tried, catching a toad and tying it to his leg with a bit of twine. When the toad died, her father told Jeremiah the poison had gone from his leg into the frog, and that he'd be fine now. "But it didn't work," Jeremiah said, and Esther had been furious with her father. Not only didn't he amputate when he should have to save his own life, but he'd opened the Greenhall family to further speculation about insanity, and the busybodies of Gonzales, Texas had already had a feast on that line of gossip.
The knock again. She slid the clasp back from the latch, and when the door swung open, Uriel Meyer stood on the threshold. "Letter came," Uriel said, and he took off his hat and twisted it in his hands.
He didn't need to say more. She turned, damped the fire in the stove, smoothed her dress with the heels of her hands. She was aware of her posture, of the lines of her face, of the sobriety of her expression. People would be watching her, looking for signs of the madness that had taken her mother. But not her, she thought. She took Uriel's hand as he led her out of the schoolhouse.
Miss Lydia pressed preserves on to her, plums and peaches and pears put up in the new glass Mason jars that Esther knew were so expensive. Between Cuero and Gonzales there was a rail line, and so Esther could take an extra trunk, unlike if she'd taken a stage coach. She marveled at the light within the jars, at the way the glass captured and pooled the sunlight until the very last second when the trunk lid winked it out. She was carrying last summer in Cuero, and the thought eased her mind. She was returning to a mess, to the black shell of a house her mother had burned, to a shack of cedar planks and tarpaper, to her young brother who had recently lost both mother and father. But she was returning with money in her pocket. They would rebuild. Their land was black, good for anything really, sandy down along the creek bed. They'd plant cotton in the black earth, melons and squash down by the sand. They'd run Charolais cattle in the bottomland, and get a Jersey for milk. They'd build a house, too, and it wouldn't be as nice as the one that had been licked by the flames, the one that had blackened and crumbled just like her father's leg, but it would be fine.
Joseph Snyder, the town doctor, met her at the depot, and helped load the trunks on to his buggy. He'd been the one to send the telegram, and was waiting for her train. "Sorry about your daddy," he told her, hoisting a trunk up to the backboard. "He wouldn't let me take the leg."
Esther took his hand and sat beside him at the front of the buggy. He clicked the long reins and the bay gelding set off with a jerk.
"Dry bite," Doc Snyder said, and Esther noticed he was completely gray through his beard. He was nearing fifty. Two years ago, before she'd left for Cuero, he'd asked her to marry him, and she'd refused. Now Dr. Snyder was married to Mae Evans, and Esther wondered if being Mrs. Dr. Snyder would have been such a bad thing.
"That first bite was a dry bite," Doc Snyder continued. "No poison. Rattlesnakes don't always poison when they bite you. That's why he didn't die the first time. But I couldn't convince your father that that was the case."
"No, I imagine not." She felt him watching her, and she looked away, out over Caleb Williams' sorghum fields.
"It's not crazy for a man to believe a little in that stuff," Doc Snyder said.
"How's Jeremiah been?" she said at last, for she knew her brother must have struggled as her father had waned.
"Oh, he's fine," Doc Snyder said. "Still wanting to go to seminary, but knows he can't. It's been hard on him being out here all by himself, but he's fifteen now, and a young man."
For a moment there was only the creak of tack leather, the slow plodding of the horses, the pop of gravel caught under the buggy wheel. The sun was slipping in the west, but there would still be light when she got home, and she'd show Jeremiah how those glass jars caught the sunshine. She'd even open one, she thought, maybe peaches, and if there was any flour or meal, she'd make biscuits.
"How long you going to do this?" Doc Snyder asked her. She smelled the linseed oil he'd used on the board, and she ran her hands over its smooth surface.
"Do what?" she said absently. She wished he'd be quiet again, because she liked him better that way, and right now, she was paying more attention to how her body knew she was almost home, the way she vibrated slightly, like a struck tuning fork. She closed her eyes, and still she knew she was home, and she sucked in a long breath.
"Live out here by yourself. You and Jeremiah." She could tell he wanted to say more, but he didn't.
"Oh, I don't know. Long as I can, I guess."
He clucked his tongue in disapproval, and she thought that was very doctor-ish of him. He'd been a surgeon and a dentist in the Confederate Army, and every once in a while, she caught a glimpse of that man, of the soldier hiding behind civilian clothes. "You won't make it. You likely won't make it through the summer. You sure as hell won't make it through the winter."
She tried to hide her irritation. "Oh, I don't know. Not much of a winter in south Texas."
"You ain't gonna make it, Esther," he told her. "And it's not just you. It's your brother, too, and starvation's a slow, miserable death. People starve to death every day in this county, so don't pretend you don't know. Why don't you sell your piece, and send Jeremiah to seminary? You'll never be able to do anything with it, just the two of you."
"And what should I do?" Esther said, at last letting her irritation show. One bend, a long stretch through a bottomland, and another turn and she'd be home. "Should I teach school in Cuero all my life?"
"Hey now," Doc Snyder said gently, and she noted the wedding band on his finger. His wife was one year older than Esther, but Doc Snyder was older than her father had been, an age difference of nearly thirty years.
"I got a brother in Blanco County," Doc Snyder said at last. "He's a widower, too, with three children. Been wanting to marry again. Name's Paul."
"I just got back, Doc Snyder. I'm not about to leave Jeremiah and go marry a man in Blanco County."
"Well, that's fine," Doc Snyder said. "You let me know when you change your mind. When you're ready to sell your land, I'll buy it. Mae's always loved your spot down there in the pines, and we'd sell the rest in parcels. Give us some place to get away, just the two of us." She imagined Mae Snyder walking down near her bit of creek, tearing down the ruins of the house, and she bit her tongue.
Jeremiah waited for her at the gate. He was taller than she was for the first time ever, and sharply thin and her schoolteacher's eye noted that he was dirty.
Doc Snyder tipped his hat to Jeremiah. "Mister Greenhall," he said.
"Hi, Doc," Jeremiah said, and she hugged him tightly to her. He returned the hug, and then helped her with her two trunks. When they were safely deposited in the yard of their temporary home – how it hurt her to lose their real home – Doc Snyder hitched up his trousers and climbed back up. "Remember what I said, now, Esther." She nodded, biting her lip, and watched the old bay gelding slowly plod his way home. The light was fading, and Jeremiah lit a kerosene lamp, and she went inside and watched the sooty coils climb toward the ceiling. "Oh, Jeremiah," she said, running her fingertips underneath her lashes, brushing away the tingling feeling that told her she would soon be sobbing. "He wants to buy this land. He wants me to send you to seminary, and marry his brother."
Jeremiah sat back on his tick mattress, and Esther recognized a quilt her mother had pieced. "Well," he said. "I guess we can't let that happen." And she was so grateful that he agreed, that he hadn't insisted that he go to seminary, or that they should give up the hard life they'd been dealt. She sat in the rude one-room shack, on the bed that had once been her father's, and she thought about how far they'd fallen, and about what a mighty effort it would take to lift them back up.
It was almost April, so Esther got a late start on the cold frame vegetables, but Jeremiah had started some kohlrabi and some cabbages, and they ate dandelion greens and purslane, and they had Miss Lydia's preserves yet, and plenty of last year's oats. She started tomatoes in the cold frame, rolling her sleeves far up to her elbow, and she had Jeremiah mend fences so they could get a dairy cow right away. When she looked around, she could hardly imagine how her father and her brother had lived here for the nearly two years since her mother had burned the house down. The bricks that had once been the chimney still teetered at an odd angle and threatened to come down, and knowing Greenhall luck, they would land on something Esther didn't want them to land on, the few Rhode Island reds that still ran about the place, maybe, or Jeremiah's head. "We need to pull that down and clear out the root cellar," she told Jeremiah, but every morning they woke with too much to do, and every night they sat at the rough table for supper, then washed their faces in the cracked basin, and lay down on their beds to sleep the sleep of the overworked.
"We've got to make a plan," Esther said one day at the noon meal. She'd fried six eggs in the cast iron skillet and opened a jar of chow-chow, and they were sopping it all up with the rest of the sour cornbread from breakfast.
Jeremiah nodded, taking a long drink of water. His nose was sprinkled with freckles and his dark hair fell into his eyes.
"You need a haircut."
"I'd like to go back to school after summer," he said after a minute.
She sat back in her chair, her elbow resting on the edge of the table. She'd meant they needed to think about rebuilding, about filling the barn with hay for the winter, about saving seeds for next spring and planning a cotton crop for some spending money. She hadn't meant school, and at fifteen, Jeremiah would be the oldest boy in the schoolroom, by far. "Why?"
He looked up at her, his mouth full. "Just want to, is all."
She washed up while Jeremiah went back to mending fence and she thought about what he said. Ever since her father had taught Jeremiah to read, Jeremiah had been nose deep in his Bible. He'd learned the Greek of the New Testament from the Gonzales school teacher, Mr. Purdy, and often at night, she heard him chanting declensions under his breath as he went to sleep. When Mr. Purdy'd left to go to Austin, he'd given Jeremiah a small volume of the Gospels in Greek, and even Esther liked to look at this book, because though she couldn't read Greek, she understood the letters and could piece out the pronunciations. It seemed such a shame for him to not go to seminary, when he had wanted it for so very long.
But what about what she wanted? She wanted to stay here on this piece of land, the place that had nurtured her father, and the place where her mother, father, and her infant sister had all drawn their last breaths and were buried, and she wanted to prove to Gonzales and to herself that the Greenhall madness had only been Greenhall bad luck, and that she and Jeremiah were nothing to be afraid of. The house was gone, but that was even more reason for her to stay: she was the link in this chain and it was her responsibility to rebuild, and especially not to allow Mae Snyder to divide up her family's property.
After she'd been home for ten days, she used some of her money to buy a Jersey cow from Caleb Williams. The cow had recently calved, so there was plenty of fresh milk, and even though it wasn't time to milk her, Esther thought she'd give it a try anyway. She tied the rope to a post in the barn, and gave the cow some feed to keep her busy.
She grabbed the milking stool and the tin bucket hanging from the nail, and she sat down to milk, just as she always had, only this was a new cow, and it had been at least two years since Esther had milked. This was a Jersey cow, known for its rich milk, and the richest bit came at the end of the milking, after all four quarters of the udder were emptied.
When she sat down on the stool, she scraped the legs against the barn floor, and the sound spooked the cow. The cow bucked, jerked the rope tight, and pulled until the post threatened to give. The rope frayed under the strain, but the cow continued to pull. When the cow's eyes bulged, and its tongue flopped heavily to one side, Esther knew the cow was choking, and she tried to get her hand between the rope and the cow's neck to get some slack.
The cow set its feet and pulled back, fighting Esther, fighting the rope. It lowed pathetically, and Esther was near tears as the cow, in panic, continued to choke itself. Esther pitied the poor dumb beast, but was even more afraid to lose the investment she'd made. At last, as the cow began to cough and sputter, Esther recalled enough of her wits to untie the rope from the post, instead of working on the part of the rope looped around the cow's neck. When she walked behind the cow to get to the other side of the barn to free the rope, she bent to lift her skirts over the rope, and the cow kicked her square in the cheek. She felt her jaw crumple, and she tasted the iron taste of blood and felt the sharpness of broken teeth.
She pulled the rope free of the post, and the cow backed away. She thought for a minute that maybe she was ruined, that maybe this would kill her. Lots of people died from jaw injuries, from the loss of teeth, from an inability to eat. She'd have to go into town to Doc Snyder, and get him to fix her tooth.
She walked up to the house, wadded a hunk of muslin, and stuck it in her cheek, and then she headed out to the kitchen garden where Jeremiah was transplanting the kohlrabi from the cold frame. He knelt in the dirt, and when he looked up at her, she saw his eyes go wide, and she said, with her mouth full of cotton: "Get the wagon and take me to town."
"What happened?"
"Cow," she said, and let it be.
When they got to town, he headed straight to Doc Snyder, and she dug her fingers into her forearm to keep the pain at bay. Inside her mouth, the muslin was heavy, and the tooth shards were in her side pocket.
Doc Snyder came out in a waist coat, took one look at her, and rushed down the steps to grab her by the elbow. "You're all right," he told her, pulling her up the steps and into his house. "Jeremiah tells me you had a run-in with a cow." She imagined his calm voice had had this lulling, soothing effect on scores of men, men on the battlefield in faraway states like Virginia and South Carolina. He sat her down at his kitchen table, and she saw Mae Snyder in the parlor, pretending she wasn't staring. "Now let me take a look," he said, pulling her hands away from her face.
When she opened her mouth, blood ran over her chin and down onto her throat, and for a second, she panicked and clawed her throat, because she didn't like the tickling feeling of the blood, and she wondered if she had bit her tongue and didn't know it. Her jaw was broken, mashed to jelly, and the teeth were in bad shape. Doc Snyder pulled out the muslin and looked at it with interest. Behind him, Jeremiah looked on with the same wide-eyed expression he'd worn during the entire drive into town.
"You broke two teeth. They've got to come out. We leave them there and they rot, do you understand? They rot this whole jaw." He ran a light finger from her ear to the tip of her chin. "They're coming out." He left the room. After a minute, he returned with his doctor's bag.
"Esther." He set the bag on the table, pulled out a glass vial and a wire frame. "I'm going to administer ether while I take out your teeth. It won't hurt at all." He rested a hand on her shoulder. "Mae," he said to his wife. "Why don't you take Mr. Greenhall to the parlor and then get my table ready?"
He helped her to her feet. "You must be on the table when I give it to you. You will sleep immediately, and I won't be able to move you." He led her down the hallway into his examination room. Mae laid a fresh white sheet on the table, and beside the table, Esther saw all manner of instruments on a silver tray. Doc Snyder caught her looking.
"It's a turn-key," he said, holding up one of the instruments. "Forceps, molar forceps." He pointed to the other instruments. "Stump screw. Lancet. You'll be asleep, Esther. You'll wake up, and I'll have fixed everything." She noticed his straight white teeth for the first time. He took a case bound in patent leather and when he opened it, she saw rows of porcelain teeth, lovely to look at almost, but hideous all the same. "It's just some broken teeth. Worse things happen all the time."
He took her hand and helped her on to the operating table. Behind him, Mae Snyder held a handful of gauze, but Esther couldn't see very well. He laid her down, and took a length of gauze from his wife.
"I'm going to bind your hands loosely," he told her, still in that same calm voice. "To keep your limbs in place once you fall asleep. If you were to move during surgery, you could hurt yourself. Or wake up." He folded her arms across her chest, and then bound her hands together. "Now your legs."
Mae came forward and wrapped a length of gauze behind and around her knees. Esther's legs were stiff, because Mae's touch was awkward, but Mae managed just the same.
"Now the mask," he said, and he fitted the mask into place. Across the wire frame, he drew four pieces of gauze, but there were several inches still between the gauze and her face. He frowned. "The mask won't work," he said. "It covers the tooth. Don't you feel this?" He pressed lightly on her mangled jaw, and her stomach turned. "Mae, we'll just damp a cloth," and he took the mask off of Esther and handed it to his wife.
Mae came forward and stood beside Esther, resting her hands calmly on the side of the table. She held a piece of gauze, and Doc Snyder cut a groove on the cork of a bottle. "Now," Doc Snyder said, and he took the gauze and a wicked-smelling liquid dripped out. "Cover her eyes, Mae. To protect them," he added to Esther. The battlefields, she remembered somewhat incongruously. She wasn't that different from those young men, scared and vulnerable.
Mae covered Esther's eyes with a towel, and soon Esther felt the liquid burning her throat and nostrils. "Breathe naturally," Doc Snyder said, and soon she drifted away, past mere sleep, drifted out to where there was no tether, to where she was set loose.
She woke in the twilight, her head fuzzy, and her jaw throbbing, and she didn't know where she was. She reached for her mother, expecting her to be near, as she had been when Esther was a child, but her mother was not close by, not sitting beside her, reading Psalms and Proverbs in a soothing, susurrus whisper, and Esther felt the loss of something bigger even than this, but there was no measure for it, no word, and so after a moment, the loss diminished, and she felt the tears well up, because she missed even that empty feeling, because it told her how she'd once been filled. She moved her hands, loosened the gauze tie, and she covered her face with them, feeling gently that corner of her mouth the cow had kicked, and the whole drama with her mother played out once more: the abandonment of the Old Testament and the Gospels, the embracing of Revelation, the nights they would find her mother down by the willows preaching and ranting. The obsession with fire, and then finally, the last of it: her mother had lain down on the parlor floor in their old house, placed the Bible on her chest, and reached her hand into the hearth. The flames had spread up her sleeve, had giddily, gleefully consumed her, and Esther's father had hardly had time to get Jeremiah out of his bed and out into the yard before the house had begun to crumble. Esther had been in Cuero then, in her first year as a schoolteacher, and Esther thought now that even in Cuero she had realized that something had happened in Gonzales, that something had slipped and gone off its track.
"You're awake," Doc Snyder said.
She jerked to see him. He was in full shadow, in a gilt mahogany chair, and his elbows perched on the arm rests. His hands were folded underneath his chin. When he saw her reaction, he spread them in a calming gesture, and said: "You're fine, Esther. You have two new porcelain teeth, and I filled a carie with lead. You're better than you were yesterday, before you met the wrong end of a cow."
Her head ached, and her mouth felt fuzzy, and she wasn't sure that she agreed with him.
"Do you believe in God?" he asked her after a moment.
"Pardon?" she said, still shaking the memory of her mother, and for a moment, she confused Doc Snyder with her mother, and the thought comforted her.
'I just wondered, with your history, what you believe will happen to you when you die." He uncrossed his legs and came to stand next to her, and he untied the gauze strip around her knees, on the outside of her skirts. He held a hand out to her, but she was not ready to sit up just yet. "Not everybody comes out of the ether, you know." His eyes were dark in the shadows, but she felt his gaze on her. "But you were never in any real danger, I think. I was here." He turned away, and she felt her legs where the gauze had been, not trusting this body that had come out of the ether, not sure she was all there.
She was silent, feeling the new teeth with her tongue, feeling the raised place where Doc Snyder had filled a tooth with lead. She did not know how to respond, because she did not know the answer, and she was not even sure what he was asking, and whether his questions were tenderness or threat, or even only his bedside manner.
"I don't think you do, Esther." He kept repeating her name, she thought, when nobody had said her name in a long time. She could not tell what was real and what was shadow, and she hated the feeling, hated the fact that she was born into a family whose blood line carried seeds of madness. She closed her eyes and did her best to ignore him, rolling away toward the wall, one hand placed still on her jaw, the other wrapped around her waist protectively.
"I know only a few people who truly believe in God," he continued. "Your mother was one, and look at all the good that did. Your brother is another." Esther felt his insinuation, that she was being foolish and should send her brother to seminary. "Other people," he said, and he inclined his head in a way that let Esther know he meant her, "are mad in different ways." He was punishing her for that refusal two years ago.
He clapped his hands, changed his demeanor. "Well," he said. "I think I've sat too long in the dark. Jeremiah's waiting for you, drinking all our coffee at the kitchen table." He reached his hand to her again, and this time she took it.
She stood, swaying slightly on her feet, and her hands ran along her hips, making sure her body still moved, was still connected. "I'm not leaving," she told him. "I'm not going anywhere."
He spread his hands in a motion that said he surrendered. "Well, I'll leave it alone, then," he told her, and when he opened the door, the light from the hurricane lamp in the parlor spilled out over the carpet, and cut through the haze.
When Jeremiah saw her, he stood and took her hand, and she squeezed it back and told him: "I'm all right. But I want to go home," and he helped her out of the house and down the steps, and she never told him what Doc Snyder had said as she was coming back from the ether.
She reclaimed the kitchen garden, and Jeremiah fixed the broken blade on the plow, and they thrashed enough hay for the winter for their Jersey cow, and for the old mare, and their peach trees produced, and Esther sliced peaches and laid the slices on a blanket on the roof for three days until they were dried. She turned her attention especially to preserving, to getting the two of them through the winter, because if they survived this one, then they would be fine. They'd start next spring early, setting out seeds in the cold frames in February, and they'd be ready to plant cotton for spending money, and then after next summer, they'd be ready to rebuild the house.
She bought one hundred and forty four pint jars, and one hundred and forty four quart jars, and it had taken nearly all her teaching money, but by the end of August, she was convinced of the wisdom of her investment, because those jars would last forever. They did not have a cellar anymore, because the old house had caved in upon it, and the chimney balanced precariously even above this, so Jeremiah made rough shelves along the windowless walls of the shack, and she lined them with beans, with pickled cucumbers and beets, with chow-chow, and mustang grape jelly. She spent hours bent over the stove, canning in a water bath while her hair was tied up in a cloth. Jeremiah kept her woodpile stocked, and every jar on the shelf was a bulwark against starvation, and she watched with satisfaction as the stock on the shelves grew each day.
One night, as the weather grew cool again, she fried greens and radishes in grease, and they sat down to supper in the dusk. Jeremiah hummed an old hymn, and it was like they were strangers, but in a good way, like they had worked so hard all summer long that they hardly knew each other, and like they had the colder months to get reacquainted. Winter in south Texas was brief, and it rarely froze, but it was hard to coax anything green from the land, and they'd spend the time with seed catalogs, and repairing tack, woodwork, clothes. But they wouldn't starve to death, she thought, despite what everybody had told her, because she and Jeremiah had worked hard. She didn't know what she wanted just yet, but she thought it was okay anyway, and thought she had a few years until Jeremiah was ready to marry, and that by then they'd be settled. She thought about Paul Snyder, and she thought she might never marry at all, and that seemed like a good thing to her. When they built the house over the coming years, she'd make sure there was plenty of room for Jeremiah and his wife and children, but plenty of room for herself as well, because she could see, in the distance, a time coming when she would be able to relax a bit, would be able to rest and read. In the old house, there had been a piano, and her mother had taught her to play, and it seemed there were worse things in life than to play piano and read and take care of nieces and nephews.
Thinking about the piano, and how heavy it was, made her remember the time her mother had made her father carry the piano outside, into the dirt of the front yard, because a photographer had been coming, and they had taken a family portrait. That photograph was gone, burnt up in the fire, but she remembered it still, remembered how she and Jeremiah had been barefoot and clinging to their father, and how their mother had leaned solemnly on the piano. The piano was her mother's most prized possession, and her mother had wanted it in the photograph. At the very edge of the photograph, at the edge of the porch, her father had placed an empty chair for the child who had died, for Esther's older sister, whom she had never met.
They had had to be still for a long time, and the photographer instructed them to relax their face. She remembered all of this now, even though she hadn't thought of it in a long time. The idea of the empty chair spooked her, the thought of her sister's ghost, and she thought of the ghosts who had been added since then. Jeremiah kept eating, crunching the radishes in his teeth, and she wondered if he remembered the piano, too.
Esther didn't crunch the radishes in the same way, as her teeth were still tender. The porcelain teeth didn't seem to sit quite right, and Doc Snyder had told her that the lead filling would take at least six months or more to be smooth. The more she chewed, he told her, the smoother it would be, but she couldn't bring herself to bite too hard because she feared the pain. "Jeremiah," she said at last, breaking their companionable silence. "Are you going to be happy if you spend the rest of your life on this farm with me?"
He looked up at her, his eyes quick and flashing, and she felt for a moment her selfishness. But it wasn't selfishness. Few people got to do everything they wanted to do in life.
"I guess so," he said after a minute.
She watched him. "You could marry, you know. You could bring a wife here, after we build the house, and she could live here, too."
"Why don't you marry?" he asked her.
She snorted lightly. "The only real prospect I have is Doc Snyder's brother, and he's a hundred miles away in Blanco County. If I marry him, I'd never see you again, or this piece of land. I'd leave one day and never come back."
He smiled at her, almost like he was the older sibling. "You'd see me again. You'd come back, too."
She shook her head. "There's no rail line between here and Blanco. I'd have to take a stage coach. The trip would take a week," she said, thinking of how miserable that week would be, shut up inside a coach. "You and I both know that would be it." Jeremiah made no reaction, so she thought for a moment that that might be what he wanted.
She sighed heavily and picked at her food. But Jeremiah heard the sigh, and he said: "No, I don't want you to do that. We'll make it. We'll rebuild the house."
"We need a root cellar again," she said. "We need a place to store all of these jars" – and again she felt that swelling of pride –"and potatoes and winter squash." She heard the wind whistle through the cedar boards, and she looked around her. "This can be the summer kitchen," she said.
Jeremiah smiled again, but this time the smile reached his blue eyes. "A big front porch with a swing," he said.
"Pressed tin siding," she said. "Painted white, with black shutters. A screen door, too, painted black."
"Gingerbread trim," Jeremiah said, and she didn't know that she wanted gingerbread trim, but she didn't say so. "We'll drive into town on Sundays, go to church again."
"Does that bother you? That we don't do that anymore?"
He nodded, almost imperceptibly, ashamed to admit that it bothered him.
"Well, then," she told him. "We can go back to church this Sunday if you like."
"They'll talk," he warned her.
She shrugged. "They'll talk anyway. We just have to ignore them."
"Can't stop them from talking," Jeremiah said.
"But we do need a root cellar," Esther said again.
"And a smokehouse," Jeremiah added. "We'll raise a pig next year, have bacon all next winter."
"Jeremiah," she said, and she loved him so much at that moment, almost as if she was his mother and not his sister. "Thank you," she said, cradling her slowly healing jaw in her palm.
And he just nodded, but she knew he understood. He knew she needed him, just as much as he needed her.
The winter came and they braced themselves, shut the old mare into the barn, and let the Jersey cow's milk dry up so she wouldn't need so much hay. The Rhode Island reds stopped laying, and for a month or two, some of them went into the stew pot on Sunday afternoons.
At first, the tongues wagged when they returned to church, and she and Jeremiah took an out of the way spot in one of the rear pews. It bothered her, but she saw how it affected him, how he watched the preacher, how he closed his eyes tightly when the congregation prayed, and how his fingers followed the verses in his Bible. Jeremiah especially loved the most ancient stuff, the stories of the patriarchs and of the Exodus, and she couldn't help but find comfort in the idea of a land of milk and honey, even though she couldn't bring herself to believe in it exactly. She warmed clay bricks in the fire as they ate their early morning breakfast, and wrapped them in flannel blankets for the ride to town. It was not yet very cold, but she wanted them to be comfortable. Doc Snyder was Lutheran, and attended a different church, and she had no need to see him all that long winter, and she wondered if his brother Paul had ever found a bride.
In December, she was in the barn feeding the animals, and when she closed the door behind her on the way back to the house, she saw the ring around the moon, and she remembered what her father had once told her: how such a ring meant that the moon was encased in ice, that a hard freeze was coming. Her father had been dead for almost a year, and the fact caught her sometimes, made her put her hand to her chest to check for her own heartbeat.
"Jeremiah," she said, when she came inside. He sat at the table burning a coal oil lamp, his Bible open to Leviticus. "It'll be cold tonight."
"I know," he told her, not looking up. "I felt it when I was out there, too."
"I hope the animals are safe," she said. She was worried but she didn't know why.
"They're fine," he said, raising a hand as if to silence her, and she didn't want to bother him, so she left him alone and busied herself with blankets. He had not returned to school that fall, and she knew he wanted the evenings so he could study. She washed her face in the basin, and then she went to sleep, with Jeremiah still studying at the table.
When the first sound woke her, the house was dark and still. She heard a high whining, as of a swarm of bees, but she could not place it. It was freezing, and she didn't want to get out of bed.
"Jeremiah," she whispered, but he did not respond.
She laid there a bit longer, listening to the sound, and then she heard a pop, and a liquid sound, and the sound of glass tinkling. She sat up straight in bed, letting cold air underneath her blankets, imagining that they were under attack, that somebody had come to rob them.
Another shattering pop, and another, and she started crying, though she didn't know why. The cracks were so loud, and sounded so much like glass exploding, and then she realized that the little shack had no windows, and that the only glass in the house was in the kitchen, and then she knew the sound for what it was.
"Jeremiah!" she yelled, leaping from bed, gasping from the sudden cold. It was dark, but she could see the faint mist of her breath in front of her face, and she knew the jars had gotten too cold, and that they were exploding because they were freezing.
She stoked the coals on the hearth, trying to fan the fire, and beside her, she heard Jeremiah loading wood into the stove. "The ashes, Jeremiah," she said, grabbing a jar and burying it in the warmth, but as soon as the jar was in place, she heard the shattering sound, and she knew the ashes were too hot for the cold jars. Around her, the jars continued to splinter and break apart, and each pop made her jump.
She fetched the blanket off her bed, and Jeremiah managed to light the kerosene lamp, and when she saw her work in the light, and what it had been reduced to, she began to cry in earnest. Jeremiah took her by the shoulders, and they stood as the last few jars froze and exploded. It took another hour for all of those jars to bust open, and every new shattering sound broke something inside her as well. She didn't know what she could have done differently, because any attempt to warm them up had been useless. It was the boards, she thought, the way they'd stored them, all lined single file against the walls. In a root cellar, they would never have frozen solid and expanded, the transformation so violent and strong that it undid all of them. In a root cellar, they would have been protected, unexposed, but the root cellar was gone to her and Jeremiah, and they had not yet excavated it nor dug another.
The last three jars were the worst, because it was done, but it wasn't over. Jeremiah led her to bed, and sat beside her while she cried, and after a while, he laid down, too, and he held her, because they both knew it was over, that there was nothing left to do but starve to death. In the morning, she stayed in bed, listening to Jeremiah sweeping up the glass.
"What do we have?" she asked him, and her eyes hurt because they were swollen.
"Not enough." He didn't say anything else all that long morning.
Around noon, she got herself out of bed, washed her face, put on the same woolen dress that she had worn home from Cuero that day almost a year ago, only now it was threadbare and ragged, as if the year had been extra tough on it. When Jeremiah saw her harnessing the old mare, he came to help, but she waved him away. "No," she said.
She led the mare out into the yard, and when she climbed into the wagon, she covered her lap with blankets. She clicked the reins on the horse's back, and she set off at a brisk trot to Doc Snyder's, and the thing she hated most was that the thought that she had lost a little bit of dignity, that if she had just taken him up on his offer a year ago, then she wouldn't look like such a fool now, a woman with a bandaged face who had once thought things could be different. She tried not to think about the ghosts on her farm, and how they were her ghosts, and about how she was about to be set free in a world full of the ghosts of strangers. For the last time she wondered if she shouldn't have married Doc Snyder when she had the chance, because she didn't trust them, these stranger's ghosts. They were from different country, from different air, but not for long. Now every bit of air was hers, every bit of country, or none of it at all.
|Nancy Wayson Dinan earned an MFA from the Ohio State University in 2013 and is currently a PhD student in fiction at Texas Tech University. Her writing has appeared in The Journal, Watershed Review, The Fiddleback, and elsewhere. She can't resist old cemeteries and historical markers, and has been known to drive several hours for good barbecue.


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For the helicopter owner, operator or flight program looking to cut costs while simultaneously maintaining or expanding existing levels of service, Agusta's A119 Koala may be the answer. Certified in 1999, the single-engine Koala has many of the same capabilities of, and in fact is faster than, most light twins. While the A119 is certainly not the cheapest single-engine helicopter on the market (priced at $2.25 million equipped), the fact that the Koala can do the same job as twin-engine ships costing twice as much makes it a relative bargain.
In creating the Koala, the engineers at Agusta essentially took the popular twin-engine A109E, replaced its two Pratt & Whitney Canada W206C engines with a venerable PT6B turboshaft (in this case a beefy PT6B-37A) and attached skids in place of the retractable landing gear. What resulted is a high-speed, high-performance multipurpose helicopter capable of carrying a pilot and seven passengers.
Because the interior cabin size exactly matches that of the A109E, the Koala can easily be adapted to corporate aviation, EMS, law enforcement, external loads and a host of other missions and equipment previously engineered and certified for the A109E. Configured for EMS, the aircraft can handle a broad range of complex aeromed missions, accommodating two stretcher patients, and carrying the equipment needed for on-site cardiac care, as well as isolettes for transporting newborns.
The A119's PT6B-37A engine produces 1,007 shp at sea level, delivering that power to a transmission capable of receiving 900 shp. One nice feature of the installation is that the reduction gearbox is at the rear of the engine and extends downwards.
The one-way sprag clutch for the main driveshaft is contained in the reduction gearbox, allowing driveshafts to run forward to the main transmission and aft to the tail-rotor gearbox. This design negates the need for any type of combining gearbox or clutch on the transmission, reducing weight and making the whole installation much easier to maintain.
The fuel metering system on the PT6 permits fuel-flow control three ways. In normal operation an electronic engine control (EEC) maintains rpm with very little transient movement during collective changes. Should the electronic system fail, a backup mechanical governor with full droop compensation picks up the load so smoothly that the only noticeable indication to the pilot should be the eec fail caution light. In the extremely unusual circumstance that both an electronic and mechanical governor should fail, the pilot still has a backup in the manual throttle. The manual mode is easy to use, however, making this emergency not that critical.
The A119's main rotor system is similar to that of the A109E, using elastomeric bearings in the blade grips and self-contained viscous lead-lag dampers. However, the Koala's blade grips are shorter than the A109E's. Rotor diameter was reduced to 35.5 ft, the weight of the rotor head was reduced and forward speed was enhanced.
The only drawback to the lighter head is that it results in a lower inertia during autorotation, so rotor rpm must be conserved until the very bottom for cushioning. This is not a significant problem, however, because while rpm can degrade quickly with the collective up, it also recovers just as quickly as soon as the collective is lowered.
The rest of the Koala's systems rely heavily on proven Agusta technology. One established feature of all Agustas is the dual-channel autopilot system. Although the Koala does not currently incorporate the flight director, the pilot still retains the choice of either having attitude hold or stability augmentation via the SAS. Since the autopilot computers, gyros and actuators are the same as those found on most IFR twins, it will be a relatively simple operation to add the flight director as the aircraft moves toward single-pilot IFR certification.
Proof Is in the Performance
At sea level the aircraft is a horse. During factory school training in Philadelphia with Agusta's chief pilot, Larry Graves, I had the opportunity to experience unbelievable performance from this muscular single. Due to conflicting traffic at Northeast Philadelphia Airport, we were restricted to using about one-third of a runway next to the tower for 180-deg autorotation training.
At a temperature of 32 deg C, engine torque and temperature were both reaching the top of their respective green arcs at about the same time. By keeping the limitations in the green, and not even using allowable takeoff transient limits, I was able to maintain a 3,000-fpm rate of climb in the turn while setting up for the autorotations.
Speed comes hand-in-hand with all that power, and speed is one of the strengths of the Koala. At a cruise speed with a reasonable fuel burn of 400 pph, a true airspeed in excess of 140 kt straight and level can be expected. With a full tank of fuel in the mains, this provides about 2.6 hr to burnout at better than 140 kt.
From my experience, this airspeed holds true in a wide range of temperatures and altitudes. For example, at 6,500 ft indicated altitude, 9 deg C OAT, 82 percent torque (TQ), 740 deg inlet turbine temperature (ITT) and 132 kias, the true airspeed (TAS) is 147 kt.
At the same altitude with a higher OAT of 18 deg C and a slightly lower ITT of 720 deg and torque of only 74 percent, the TAS remains high at 143 kt. The Koala's high-speed cruise is a surprising pleasure. On a recent training flight at 5,000 ft and 20 deg C, with 94-percent torque and ITT at the top of the green, we were clocking 142 kias but the true airspeed was a blistering 156 kt straight and level.
A common misconception among some pilots is that autorotation in the Koala is pretty extreme due to its lower-inertia rotor head. I have had the opportunity to train in density altitudes ranging from sea level to more than 7,000 ft, and the aircraft is very predictable in all of these conditions.
Vertical speed is generally around 1,800 fpm steady state, and the aircraft is extremely maneuverable throughout the autorotation. To demonstrate the rpm recovery time during training, I retarded the throttle with the collective up at cruise speed. Simulating a long reaction time, we let the rotor rpm bleed down from 100 percent to the minimum of 90 percent before lowering the collective. By lowering the collective and raising the nose just a bit, it is amazing how quickly the rpm recovers and snaps back into the green. In fact, since the aircraft is so fast, any autorotation from cruise speed allows an extended glide while slowing back to the recommended 60 kt.
On the Line in Boise
The launch customer for the aeromedical version of the Koala is Saint Alphonsus Life Flight in Boise, Idaho. The program consists of three bases, two in Boise and one 125 mi southeast in Twin Falls. It operates a wide range of aircraft, currently a Bell 222 and 206, a Piper Cheyenne III and the A119. CJ Systems Aviation of Pittsburgh is the Part 135 certificate holder and provides Life Flight with pilots, mechanics and backup support aircraft.
Life Flight began transporting patients in 1986, and over the past 15 years has transported some 14,000 patients by air. The program covers 150,000 sq mi of diverse terrain ranging from hot-and-high desert conditions to cold-weather mountain flying. All in all, it is demanding environment to try out a new aircraft.
According to Chris Marselle, Saint Alphonsus' program director, the Koala was selected for the remote base at Twin Falls for several reasons. "We had limited funds for this base and the Koala fit the bill with performance, cardiac balloon-pump capability and two-patient medical interior. It had good cost effectiveness with its purchase price and operating costs. We also believed that Agusta would support us and the aircraft."
Change is difficult for any flight program, and Life Flight is no different. When asked how the medical crew has adjusted to the Koala, Ken Sheldon, Life Flight's program manager, is quite frank. "That depends on which ones you speak to. Most like the new ship. However, there is a small contingent of staff, the more tenured ones, who feel that a single-engine aircraft is not as safe as a twin-engine aircraft. Additionally, they had limited involvement in aircraft selection for strategic hospital reasons, which did not help the situation either. Overall they like the aircraft, and if we can address their issues everything will work out for the better."
Bill Patterson, aviation site manager for CJ Systems Aviation, the Part 135 certificate holder for Saint Alphonsus Life Flight, said that although the pilots really like flying the Koala, they have noted several areas that need improvement. The first ships off the assembly line did not have glareshields on the instrument panel, creating a hazard at night. These glareshields are now standard. The rotor brake had not been certified at delivery, but will soon be retrofitted on site. The oxygen system also lacks sufficient volume for long flights with two patients, but Life Flight is looking at several alternatives with higher volume.
The biggest anomaly noted by the pilots concerns engine torque. For some reason the aircraft will pull a lot more torque going straight up than in level flight. For example, if the aircraft pulls 90 percent torque on a maximum-performance takeoff, the torque will drop off to about 85 percent as the aircraft transitions into forward flight while the pilot maintains the same ITT with collective. This is the opposite of most aircraft, which have more of a temperature or torque problem going straight up than forward. Even though the torque drops off in level flight, I personally prefer having more torque available going straight up out of the hole from a confined area.
A True Test
Due to a recent contract change, I had the opportunity to fly the Koala on the line for 10 days at the Twin Falls site. An interesting test of the capabilities of the Koala occurred one afternoon involving a patient transport from Sun Valley to Boise. The three-leg trip involved departing from Twin Falls northbound to Sun Valley, flying the patient westbound to Saint Alphonsus hospital in Boise and then returning southeast to Twin Falls. On the westbound leg between Sun Valley and Boise I flew direct over the Trinity Mountains, which top out at more than 10,000 ft. During the flight we happened to see tendrils of smoke drifting upwards from some controlled forest fire burns to our south, located more in the foothills at 6,000 to 7,000 ft. We remarked on the burns, because at our altitude the smoke was creating a minor restriction to visibility, especially heading into the setting sun.
After delivering the patient to St. Alphonsus, I topped off the tanks and headed to Twin Falls, a roughly 40-min flight in the dark. Now being a flat-lander and strict adherent to FAR 135.207, I had already briefed the crew that I do not fly backcountry without good visual reference and lights on the ground. So we took the highway southeast back to Twin Falls. Anyone who has flown in the high desert of the American west knows that it gets very dark in between towns, and there are not a lot of airports with which to flight follow. For that reason I was still monitoring Boise Approach Control even though we were 55 nm away by the time we heard of
the distress call.
The medical crew and I did not actually hear the distress call, but we heard Boise approach relaying the distress call to a pair of A-10s that the controller was vectoring toward the scene of a downed aircraft. We overheard that a single-engine aircraft had reported a loss of engine power somewhere back in the mountains. The last report from the pilot indicated that he was heading toward the light from the controlled burns that we had seen earlier in the afternoon.
The last reported location before he dropped off radar was 30 mi east of Boise, or only about 25 mi from our position. I called approach control, informed them of our position, indicated that we had a medical crew on board and offered our services.
My original intent was only to assist the A-10s in looking for the signal flares that would indicate if anyone survived the landing. There was no moon, so we took up an orbit at 10,000 ft above the fires, at least 3,000 ft above the foothills below and keeping the valley lights to our south in sight. As we flew over the valley below, it became apparent that we would not be able to see anything from that altitude. A ground-level search in the dark was out of the question, but the controlled burn of the grass and sagebrush below us illuminated the valley floor. We decided to make an approach to the lit area and make one sweep before heading home.
The Life Flight program uses night vision goggles as an aid to vision for the medical crewmember in the copilot seat only. On the pilot side, the aircraft is equipped with an SX-5 searchlight. With the flight paramedic wearing goggles and providing clearance on the left side, and the SX-5 on the right used by the flight nurse in back and myself, we descended to 500 ft above the valley floor.
The A-10s agreed to remain on station above us and provide a radio relay to Center. In spite of the illumination provided by the fire line and the SX-5, it became obvious that we were not going to find anything. We prepared to head home and return in the morning for a more complete search.
A mile down the valley and slightly above us were two smaller burns, and thinking that could have been started by the downed aircraft, we decided to check them out before returning to base. Investigating the area near the burns, we found the wreckage. We radioed the location and then landed nearby.
It became apparent that nobody had survived the accident. Fire department and rescue personnel took some time to find us, time we used to look around the wreckage. Flashlights and maps were strewn about, the pilots obviously looking for the nearest airstrip. The worst thing was sitting in the pitch dark waiting for the first responders to relieve us, and listening to the cellphone of one of the deceased pilots ringing–probably a friend or loved one, worried because of the overdue status.
The irony of the situation was not lost on the three of us. A single-engine helicopter at the scene of a single-engine aircraft crash. Did it bother me? Not a bit. Compared with the other leading hazards associated with aviation, flight into inadvertent IMC and high-speed impact with terrain during cruise flight, engine failure ranks way down on my personal list of things to be worried about. And as I pointed out to the crew, the biggest threat to a single-engine aircraft is fuel starvation, the same as it is for twin-engine aircraft.
The Koala performed admirably during the whole operation. Once we had been released from the scene by local law enforcement, we prepared for departure. The scene was at about 6,000 ft msl, and I wanted to get back up to 10,000 ft as quickly as possible. With many other underpowered aircraft, this would involve a climbing racetrack pattern over the scene until reaching altitude. We had a clear departure path up the valley, so with a maximum-performance takeoff and 85 percent torque at 60 kt, I was able to maintain an extremely high rate of climb of 2,000 fpm up to 10,000 ft.
Perhaps the most important consideration when selecting a new aircraft is the ability of the machine to keep pace with program changes and growth. When asked about the potential of the Koala to keep up with Life Flight in the future, Marselle has no reservations: "We believe that the aircraft will be solid in a cost-effective competitive marketplace."
Until going through the Agusta factory school for the Koala, I had not flown a single-engine helicopter since 1984. After 17 years of flying twins, I was not too excited about the prospect of going back to a single. One flight was all it took to make me a convert, and after flying the aircraft both during training and aero med missions it has become apparent that this aircraft has a future. The Koala has a place, not only in program expansions requiring the purchase of new aircraft, but also in replacing aging and sometimes underpowered twin-engine ships.


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