children

Andrew and Molly Part 21

Molly was exhausted. The work of her farm, family, responsibility for her indentured servants was unrelenting. Ailing since he was injured in the Indian attack, Bartles had never enjoyed a full return to health. Lately, his left leg dragged a bit and his mouth drew to the left. In the short time since his return, Andrew had picked up most of Bartles’ work. Molly could see the relief on Bartles’s face.

Aggie was grateful to have Bartles about the house with her and kept the little girls at her side when Rosemarie was too busy to care for them leaving Molly free for other duties. Jamie kept busy following everyone at their farm tasks.

Though she appreciated Aggie’s help, Molly regretted not being able to tend her own house and children. She was worried about being able to care for four little ones should she not be able to keep Rosemarie once the baby was weaned. Orphaned herself, she felt for the wee mite but wasn’t anxious to take on another child. It seemed like everytime her life was looking better there was another bump in the road.

Even the baby did not lie abed. Though it was early, he was on his way into town wrapped in a sling on Rosemarie’s back. The storeowner’s wife stopped her to talk after Rosemarie gave her the list. “I heard you’d lost your baby but here you are with one strapped to your back! How’d you get another so fast?” she asked snidely.

Knowing her place, Rosemarie avoided the discussion as much as possible. “This is not my babe. Mistress Wharton has me minding the baby her man Andrew brought when he escaped from the Indians. I’d best go. Mistress Wharton won’t like me gossiping.”

The Saddest Christmas Ever

The December after I turned six years old, I hatched a plot. I’d leave a note for Santa asking to accompany him on his rounds. I felt sure if I asked nicely, he’d wake me up and take me along. though Mother assured me it wouldn’t happen. I laboriously wrote this note.

Dear Santa,

I have been good. Can I go with you ? I hate dolls. I want a BB gun and a blue bicycle. I love you.

Linda

About bedtime, Mother said she heard the jingle bells on Santa’s sleigh. I flew to the door to try to catch Santa but didn’t catch him. Mother sent me to bed since he wouldn’t come until I went to sleep. It took me forever to go to sleep. I was disappointed to wake up in the morning and find I’d been left at home.

We knew not to go in to see if Santa had come before waking our parents. Mother dragged out the anticipation by making coffee before we went to see what Santa had brought. When we were finally allowed in, Mother pointed out a note taped to TV screen, “Linda, did you think you could catch me?”

My parents laughed but I was devastated. Not only did Santa ditch me, he thought it was funny.

When I opened my presents, I got a life-sized baby doll that could pee its diaper. I threw it down and stomped my foot, “I hate dolls. I wanted a BB gun.” I got a spat and a warning to behave myself. Mother pointed out the biggest package under the tree with my name on it. I tore into it only to find a tin tea set with a Dutch boy and girl on it. I wanted to throw a fit but knew what that would get me.

Seeing my disappointment, Mother tried to distract me. “Here open this present from Grandma.” It was the twin of the doll that had already gotten me in trouble. My sister got a blue bicycle. I found out later that day my two boy cousins my age got BB guns.

The only thing that saved my Christmas was finding a big red rocking horse behind the tree. I loved it.

The only time I ever played with those accursed dolls was when my cousin Sue and I treated them to a funeral the next summer. My mother was a slow learner. I got a doll the next two Christmases as well.

Playing Among the Headstones

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Sometimes we are fortunate enough to look past what lies on the surface and find pleasure in unexpected places.  Before our children started school, we decided it would be best if I put off working until they started school.  Most days, the children and I were home.  I rambled the lanes around our rural home were on foot pulling the little ones in a red wagon behind me.

We frequently strolled to a lovely old pre-Civil War cemetery with off a gravel road near our home..  The children were fascinated by the tall, graceful tombstones and loved running between them, seeking out their favorites with angels, little lambs, ornate curlicues, or crypts enclosed within wrought-iron fences.

In their exuberant innocence, they played happily in the deep shade under the ancient oaks, having no knowledge of death or its connection to their favorite destination.  Sometimes they sat in the sand of the unpaved tracks, playing with their trucks or other small toys.  To them, it was no more than a park.  As often as not, I spread a blanket on the grass for them to picnic on peanut butter and jam sandwiches, milk and cookies.

Later, they’d stretch out on the blanket while I read to them, sometimes drifting off for their naps.  Late in the afternoon, We’d walk home in the long shadows as they searched for little treasures of pretty stones, colorful bird feathers, or bright flowers or toss small stones from their vantage point on a small wooden bridge into the clear creek below.

I cherish the memory of those lovely afternoons and hope that the souls resting beneath that cool green carpet of grass enjoyed the laughter of children playing and the time we shared with them.

Hard Time Marrying Part 14

She gathered the children next to the wall in bed with her with the fireplace poker hidden the quilts.  It wouldn’t be much protection from an ax or gun, but she might be able to put an eye out before he got to her.  Fatigued, she leaned against the wall so she wouldn’t be caught lying down when he burst in.  Though she was never aware of drifting off, the sound of the man trying the door awoke her just as the sun was rising.  Peeking out the window she saw he had put a pail of milk and basket of eggs on the step instead of bringing them in like he had every other morning.   “Come on out and git this for them kids.  They got to eat.” Jack trotted happily behind him as he headed to the barn.  When she was sure he was far enough away, she reached for the provisions.  Unable to lift the heavy milk bucket, she had to take it out a dipper full at a time and wasted a good bit trying to strain it into a pitcher.  Filling the baby’s bottle, and struggled to change the wriggling child’s malodorous diaper before finally giving up to let her run free.   The boy tipped a chair and banged his head trying to get an egg. The eggs crashed to the floor. The baby howled in unison with her brother, though he didn’t need any help. She burst into loud wails faced with the hopelessness of the situation.  Clearly, she couldn’t take care of even herself in her condition.  Desperate, she opened the door to the man’s banging.  If he’d wanted to kill them, he could have sneaked up on them in the night instead of bringing breakfast to the door.

“If you ain’t gonna be able to feed these young’uns, let me in so I can.”  She had no trouble understanding his shouted instructions.  He got straight to work, breaking up cold cornbread into warm milk, since the eggs were lost.  Gesturing for her to sit in a straight chair at the table, he handed her the baby girl propping her between Anya’s injured arm against the wall and raised his voice. “You feed this baby.  You need to earn your keep.  That other arm works fine.” 

While Anya fed the girl, she sneaked peeks at the man, trying not to get caught while he crumbled cornbread into the boy’s milk.  He made no effort to fix Anya’s meal, turning to hear and shouted.  “Now when you git your fill, clean this mess up.  I got too much to do to take care of youngun’s and an addled woman.”

Anya lost her fear as her face flamed with fury at the insult. “Addled!  I ain’t addled!  I’m jest kind’a deaf but I’m a’getting’ better!  And don’t go hollerin’ so loud at me.  I ain’t off!  You’d act addled too if you got cracked in the head.  At least I ain’t crazy enough to claim you’re my husband!  Just give me a few days more an’ I’ll be out of here.  I just gotta figure a way to take care of myself and git to a town.”

The damn holding back Joe’s frustration broke.  “I’ll be glad to see the last of you, but I got a crop to put in and cain’t take time to haul your sorry ass thirty miles to town. Me and these kids ain’t gonna starve on account of you!  You ain’t nothing to us!”  He didn’t even realize it was the first time he’d referred to himself and the kids as a unit. “The circuit preacher will be over to the Meadow Creek Church in two weeks for revival.  I’ll take you the twelve miles over there and some of them do-gooders from church can put you to work or git you to town.  It ain’t nothing to me what you do.”

“I ain’t staying here another night.” She spouted, slamming her open hand on the table.

“Suit yourself.  Talphus is thirty miles east and Meadowcreek Church is twelve miles northwest of here.  Them church folks will be gathering after spring planting.  Good riddance!  Come on Little Joe.  Now, you watch the baby out of the fire.  Me and Little Joe got work to do.”  He grabbed the little boy’s hand and slammed the door on the way out.

Grandma and Minnie

Grandma and Grandpa lived next to Minnie and Amalie in Austin, Texas.  Minnie and Amalie had immigrated from Mexico fairly recently and spoke very little English, but that didn’t hamper their friendship.  Grandma and Minnie had coffee every morning, chatting over recipes, patterns, housework, and their shared garden plot.

It didn’t matter that Grandma spoke not a word of Spanish and Minnie knew little English.  They’d check out each other’s tomatoes, peppers, and flowers, chattering like nobody’s business. Though I was a small child when we visited there, I remember fondly that Minnie trusted me push her pretty, black-eyed baby around the yard in her stroller.I was so proud to be a big girl.

Sometimes I followeed Grandpa and Amalie  around as they smoked hand-rollled cigarettes and worked at some project in the yard or dug in the garden.  One day they made me a chair by nailing two apple crates end-to-end.  I sat in that chair as long as I could squeeze into it.  I learned my first Spanish when Amalie hammered his finger and cursed in Spanish.  Though I didn’t know Spanish, cursing in any language is cursing. I admired cursing and was always on the  alert for a tasty tidbit, since I didn’t get to hear it at home.

I was intrigued at hearing Minnie and Amalie talk, my introduction to a foreign language.  I’d jabber along, thinking, I was speaking Spanish, stopping periodically to ask Grandma or Minnie to interpret what I’d said for me.I wish we all got on with our neighbors so well.  We shared a lovely meal of Grandma’s greens, pork chops and cornbread and Minnes’s tamales and beans one special evening.  I didn’t care much for the greens, but I’ll never forget the bite of Minnie’s spicy tortillas.

Hard Time Marrying Part 3

farm-wagonBy the time Joe pulled his mules to the door to unload his wagon, it was sleeting.  His life had never looked more hopeless as he brushed the icy hay from the tattered quilt covering the children’s burning faces.  Though it was unchristian, he’d half-hoped to find them already dead from the fever, solving the problem of their care.

He struggled to get them into the cold cabin where he heard the scurrying of a rat.  “Damn it all.  I got to bring the barn cat in.”

Laying them gently on his bed and covering them, he was able to rouse each enough to get a bit of water down.  Setting the cup to the side, he moved on to the fireplace to uncover the banked ashes, put a stick or two next to the backlog, rekindling the fire.  At least they wouldn’t die of thirst or cold.  It angered him to feel pity for them. That’s all he could do for them for the moment.

He hurried in with the provisions, the pathetic mercy the town had shown, leaving to get his horses tended, milk the cow and tend the stock.  Finishing his tasks, he miserably returned to the burden of the sick children fate had forced upon him.  Upon entering the cabin, the sight meeting his eyes nearly undid him.  A filthy, battered woman dressed in rags studied the little girl.  God in Heaven!  Would this nightmare never end? Had he buried the woman alive and now she’d scratched out of her grave?

Mutely, the woman clutched the child to her bosom protectively as though she thought he might put the two of them back in the grave.

“Oh my God.  I thought you were dead!”  This did nothing to set her at her ease.  Shamed, he turned his back mumbling.  “Poor wretch.  What she must be thinking?” Shame at having buried her, then trying to get rid of her sick children shamed him, bringing him lower than he’d ever been before.  I don’t know why I didn’t leave it alone when it was good enough.  He fled from the cabin and made his way to the barn, tossed some hay on a saddle blanket settled in to try to get some sleep.  Jack, his dog, and the barn cats settled in next to him, glad of the unexpected company.  He lay awake a long time, thinking of the girl who’d made him want a wife in the first place.

Hard Time Marrying

This is a series I wrote in 2015. Not many of my current followers have seen it. I hope you enjoy it.


Their union had a bleak start.  Meeting at the train in the freezing rain, she clutched his letter.  They married minutes later at the preacher’s house, barely speaking as they shivered the two hours home in his open wagon.  In her letter, she’d not mentioned the two little ones, though with all fairness, the marriage was only one of need on both parts. They were proof she could bear the children he hoped for.  Burning with fever by the time they got to his homestead; dead by the next sundown, she left him with two little ones he had no taste for.  Barely reaching his knee, they toddled mutely in perpetual ,soggy diapers dragging to their knees, uttering gibberish only they understood.  As soon as he could get her wrapped in a quilt, he buried this stranger wife and headed back to dusty Talphus, Texas with the sad burden of her orphaned little ones.  The church or the town would have to do for them.  Loading them in a snug in a bed of hay, wrapped in a ragged quilt, hay heaped over them.  he pitied and grieved for them on the long trip back to town, knowing the hard life they faced.  Stopping several times to make sure they were warmly covered, he was relieved to find them pink and warm.
He hardened his heart against them, knowing only too well the life they were facing.  He’d never known family, just been passed from hand to hand.

Lou and Lynn Part 22 Exploring Old Boxcars: A Girl’s Adventure

Lou soon knew why Lynn liked Sue so much. Sue was good-natured and loved playing outdoors. They climbed trees and played in the creek as much as they wanted. Sue had no chores, so nothing interfered with playing. Aunt Julie wasn’t fussy about how dirty they got. She rinsed them off with the water hose before they came in.


The only low point was Aunt Julie made all the kids come in and take an afternoon nap. In reality, only Aunt Julie and the boys took a nap. She just made them all lie down. Lou hadn’t taken a nap in years. There was no way she could go to sleep in the middle of the day. The girls started out lying on Sue’s bed talking quietly. Of course, they soon got giggly, then rowdy. Aunt Julie kept rousing up telling them to be quiet. By the time they had a pillow fight and broke a vase, she was furious. She gave up on her nap and ran them outdoors.

Fortunately, she didn’t stay mad long and brought out popsicles. The girls had the creek and vine to themselves while the boys napped. In the late afternoon, Troy and Billy woke up and came out to play. Aunt Julie brought the rescue puppy. He was the cutest little guy. Once he got over his shyness, he got rowdy and played enthusiastically.

A railroad track lay in the woods not too far behind Sue’s house. Two abandoned boxcars stood on a sidetrack. “Have you ever looked in those boxcars?” asked Lynn. “That looks interesting.”

”Let’s go see what’s in them,” answered Sue. The girls took off running. The boxcars were a lot bigger than they’d looked from a distance. They had to boost each other up, then pull the last girl up. It took a minute for their eyes to adjust to the darkness inside the boxcars.

The walls of the interior were covered with graffiti. There were two huge dragons battling each other, spewing fire from their mouths. A huge Jesus covered the end with the giant word, “”Repent!”There were a couple of women with their clothes falling off. There were numerous poems the girls could never repeat. It would have taken hours to see everything but it was getting dusky. From the house, they could hear the honking of a car horn. Sue looked startled. “Oh no, I bet Mama’s looking for us!” They climbed out and raced back home through the tall grass.

Sure enough , Aunt Julie was waiting for them. “Where in the world have you girls been? Troy said he saw you headed for the old train.” she said. She looked upset!

”We looked in them,” Sue said. “You should have seen all the pictures on the walls!”

”Don’t you ever go around those boxcars again! That’s dangerous! There could have been hobos hiding out there. There’s no telling what could have happened to you. Lynn, if your daddy ever finds out you went in those boxcars, you’ll never get to come back. You’d better think hard about that! Oh my Lord. You girls scared me!”

Big-eyed, the girls exchanged glances. Thy knew they’d never tell!

The Joy of People-Watching

img_1660The best part of traveling is people-watching.  A young family was sitting a sat or two behind me.  The mother had to take the little girl to the bathroom and interrogated the little boy vigorously as to whether he had to go.  Emphatically, he did not.  Mom annoyed him by asking again.  He stalwartly denied a need to go, despite her insistent interrogation.  Giving up, she took the little girl.  Not long after they were reseated and buckled in, imminent landed was announced.  He’d missed his chance.  Immediately, he set up a howl.  “Mom, get me out of here.  I gotta go! I gotta Go!  The pee is coming down!”

“What!  You said you didn’t have to go!”

 

Next I watched a young mother bouncing her wailing newborn.  Clearly, she was exhausted.  A young man walked up and she handed off baby, bottle, and pacifier. He skillfully bounced and fed the baby with pacifier in his mouth.  What a man!

 

Another couple was corralling two little guys.  The older knocked the smaller off a climbing toy.  Dad exploded.  “That’s it!” and stormed off.  Mom simultaneously calmed the little one and put the other in time out.  He howled.

“You hush and think about what you did.  I don’t like the way you treated your brother.”  He snuffled a while before quieting.  Before too long, he was playing with his brother.   Eventually, Dad was back.