Free Who by Fire by Fred Stenson Page A

you should evacuate.”
    Ella pulled off her glove and wrapped the bare hand around the back of her neck. She was so angry suddenly she could hardly look at him. At the same time, she felt herself begin to cry. He opened the gate and entered the stall; stepped toward her with his hand raised, wanting to console. She lifted her own hand like a stop sign.
    “I don’t know how much more of this I can stand,” she said.
    “I’m sorry.”
    “Of course you are. But you can’t do anything. What do you mean by accident?”
    “There are valves where the pipeline from the field enters the plant. A side-pipe to a pressure gauge there must have cracked. The gauge blew off.”
    “What’s that got to do with us?”
    “One of our men went in the shack when he heard liquid hitting the roof. He tried to pinch the pipe shut and he was gassed.”
    “He’s dead?”
    “Our safety man got him going again. I was there.”
    “You’re saying the gas could be coming here.”
    “You should get out.”
    “Have you been to Gerstens’?”
    “I’ll go there next.”
    “Don’t stare at me. Go!”
    He turned to leave, but she grabbed his arm, pulled him back around, and kissed his mouth. Then she pushed him hard away.
    Billy was on his way back as Lance ran past him. “Why is Mr. Evert running?”
    “He has to tell Mrs. Gersten something. And we need to go to town, right now.”
    “Why are you laughing?”
    “I’m not laughing, honey. Let’s go.”

4
    Ryder Farm, 1961
    TWO DAYS AND NIGHTS in her mother’s house, with crucifixes above each doorway and statues of Mary and Joseph in front of the dresser mirror where she slept, pulled Ella back from the reckless feeling. It reminded her that what she had done was a sin. In her mother’s house, swathed and almost smothered in the smells of her childhood, she could not imagine doing any such thing again. A moment of madness brought on by fear and sorrow. That was all.
    It was two more days until Tom felt the stink had tapered off enough that it made sense for Ella and the children to return home. They had been back only one day and a night when a blizzard tore into the farm from the north. The windbreaks on that side were younger, and the wind and snow poured through and tossed up drifts around the house almost to the eaves. The municipality did not send any ploughs before the storm stopped, and by then the girls had not been to school for three days. Tom was having to feed his feedlot calves black hay from the roof of their bedding shed. His mood was just as black as the hay when he described how it made them cough. Like big dogs barking.
    It was when the roads were finally cleared that Lance Evert called. Ella was playing cowboys and Indians with Billy, using a bunched-up rug for hills around the fort. Lance was awkward on the phone andcould not seem to come to the point. He was bursting with whatever it was he could not say. It sounded like he had something to give her, and Ella was made nervous thinking what that might be.
    “Is there something wrong at the plant?” she asked.
    “Not now, no.”
    “I have food on the stove,” she lied.
    “I have some news. Something’s going to happen in a few weeks that I’d like to tell you about. I was wondering if I could come down.”
    “Tom’s the one you should talk to, and he’s at our Lower Place. If it’s important, I’ll give you directions.”
    Lance gave false-sounding excuses why he could not look for Tom but had time to come to the house right now. That he wanted to see her badly enough to lie and cavil touched her hard, like a finger jabbing the bone at her collar.
    “Come, then.” When she hung the earpiece in its cradle, she was out of breath.
    Billy had long ago tired of waiting for her. He had switched to cards and had them laid out all over the hooked rug. Ella did not ask why. She went into the bathroom and, behind the closed door, looked at herself in the mirror and primped her hair. She wanted to tell