The Four Winds
“Stay strong,” Jean said, looking out at the people gathered along the ditch.
Elsa looked at her friend. “Do you ever get tired of being strong?”
“Oh, honey, of course.”
* * *
FIVE WEEKS AFTER THEY arrived in California, they got their first letter from Tony and Rose. It bolstered everyone’s spirits.
Dearest ones,
The dust storms haven’t given up, I’m sorry to say. Even so, there was another meeting this week. The government is offering us farmers ten cents per acre if we agree to contour the land. The work is slow going, but Tony is back to spending long hours on the tractor, and you know he’d rather be on his tractor than anywhere else. The Works Progress Administration is paying out-of-work men to help us. Now we just hope for these awful dust storms to stop. And if it rains, all this hard work might mean something.
Yesterday, a man came through town and promised to bring rain, called himself a rainmaker. It wa
s something to see, I’ll say that. He shot something up in the sky. We’re all waiting now to see if it works. I reckon you can’t prompt God that way, but who knows?
We miss you all and hope you are well.
Hopefully Elsa’s birthday was a grand event. Happiest of days!
With love,
Rose and Tony
* * *
ON THE LAST DAY of May, Elsa herded her children off to school and remained behind. Just this once, she was not looking for work. She had something else to do.
Without a husband to help out, Elsa felt the heavy burden of both working and caring for the children. So many chores and too few hours in which to do them. It was no surprise there were few single women out here. Loreda did more than her share; heck, these days everyone in the camp did more than their share of everything. Even Ant pulled his weight without complaint. He was responsible for making sure there was always plenty of firewood, kindling, and paper. He spent a lot of time rummaging through the camp and along the main road for whatever he could find; he also brought newspapers home from school. Yesterday he’d found a broken apple crate—a treasure.
It took Elsa two hours to carry enough water back to wash all of their clothes. By the time she boiled and strained the water and poured it into the copper tub they’d brought with them from Texas, she was sweating and exhausted. Once the clothes were washed, she hung them from the interior metal tent frame. They would take longer to dry inside, but at least they wouldn’t be stolen. Then she put some lentils on to soak.
When those chores were done, she dragged the copper tub into the tent and then started hauling water again. Bucketful after bucketful; she hauled it from the ditch, boiled it and strained it and poured it into the tub.
Finally, she tied the tent flaps shut and disrobed—a thing she hadn’t done in weeks. In the past month, they had learned, all of them, how to survive in these terrible conditions, packed in like prisoners. Baths had become luxuries rather than necessities.
She stepped into the tub and crouched down. The water was lukewarm, but still it felt heavenly. Using their last scrap of soap, she washed her body and her hair, trying not to care that in places she felt only her scalp.
Shivering as the water chilled around her, she stepped out and dried off, saving the water in the tub for the kids to bathe in. Heat radiated down from the canvas and up through the dirt floor as she brushed her thinning blond hair. There was no mirror in which to check her appearance, but she didn’t want one. She covered her head with her cleanest kerchief, wishing that, today of all days, she still owned a hat.
The women would all be wearing hats.
Don’t think about them. Or yourself.
This was for her children.
She unpacked her best dress.
Best dress. Made last year from scraps of pillowcase lace and flour sacks. The last time she’d worn it had been to church in Lonesome Tree.
Don’t think about that.
She dressed carefully, pulling up her sagging cotton stockings and stepping into worn-down shoes. Then she stepped out of the tent and into the blazing afternoon sun.
Jean stood outside her own tent, holding a broom.
Elsa waved and walked over.