Paradise Falls

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  Fiona handed the slate to a little girl seated at the first desk. “Afton, do you know how to print your name?”

  “Yes, Miss Downey,” the girl said proudly. “My mama taught me how,”

  Though it seemed a great effort to press the chalk over the slate, Afton managed her name before holding it up for the others to see.

  “That’s very good, Afton.” Fiona handed the slate to a boy seated behind her.

  When the boy stumbled over the spelling of his name, the big boy whispered loudly enough for the entire class to hear. “Now you’ll get it, Erik.”

  “The stick?” Erik visibly paled.

  Seeing it, Fiona moved quickly to reassure him. “There is no stick in this classroom. Nor will there be.”

  “No stick?” The tall boy, whose name was Edmer Rudd, had chosen a seat in the very back of the room. He glanced around in surprise. “How will you make us behave?”

  “I intend to appeal to your better nature.”

  He gave a rude snort. “Miss Hornby said nothing makes children behave like the sting of a switch to their backsides.”

  It was on the tip of Fiona’s tongue to argue the point, but she knew that everything said this day would be repeated around supper tables tonight all over town. Folding her hands behind her back she stepped to the front of the room. “While in this classroom, we will live by the Golden Rule.” She glanced around and saw that the children had gone very still, a look of puzzlement on their faces. “We will treat each other the way we would wish to be treated. If we make a mistake, or if we do something that hurts another, we will apologize and do our best to make things right. Can you agree to that?”

  The children glanced around uneasily, and seemed to wait for Edmer’s reaction. When he merely stared at her, Fiona cleared her throat.

  “In time you’ll see how easy it will be. My job is to teach you. Your job is to learn. If you don’t understand something I’ve told you, you must let me know so that I can explain it better.”

  “And then you’ll switch us?” Edmer said with barely concealed sarcasm.

  When no one laughed, Fiona realized she had her work cut out for her. It would take patience, and a great deal of effort on her part, to persuade these children that she meant what she said. “Perhaps,” she said as she sat at her desk, “we ought to go over a few of the rules.”

  Seeing the suspicion in their eyes she began. “If you wish to be excused to go to the outhouse, simply raise your hand at any time, and you may go.”

  Edmer gave a snort of laughter. “Miss Hornby used to make us wait until lunchtime. She said we were only using it as an excuse to get out of doing things we didn’t like. If you let us go whenever we want, how will you know if we really need to go?”

  “It’s a matter of honor, Edmer. I expect each of you to know what’s best, and to do it.” Fiona glanced around. “I’ve placed a bucket of water, soap, and a towel to be used before returning to the classroom.”

  “Why?” one of the girls asked.

  “So as not to spread germs.”

  “What’s wrong with that? Most of us are German,” someone shouted, to the delight of the others.

  “So you are.” Fiona chuckled. “But I’m talking about germs, not Germans. By washing our hands we can avoid some illnesses. I know you don’t think about germs, but since it’s one of my rules, I’ll ask you to honor it.” She pointed. “We have a bucket of water and a dipper there by the door. You are invited to drink whenever you feel thirsty. If anyone didn’t bring a lunch, let me know. I have enough to share.”

  “You’d share your lunch?” Once again, Edmer sounded incredulous. “Miss Hornby used to make us go hungry, so we wouldn’t forget a second time.”

  To hide her sense of outrage, Fiona brushed a speck of dust from her desk and gathered her thoughts. “Now that I’m your teacher, I’ll be willing to share my lunch with anyone who has none.” She took a deep breath. “I believe I’d like to begin by asking how many of you know how to read.”

  A few hands went up, and then a few more. Pleased, Fiona opened a book. “Who would like to go first?”

  Since no one volunteered, that privilege went to Siegfried Gunther, who managed to stumble through the first page before Fiona thanked him for his efforts. “That was very nice, Siegfried. Now who would like to try?”

  Overcoming their shyness of the new teacher, several hands went up and Fiona asked the little girl named Afton to take up where her classmate had left off.

  As more of the students read aloud Fiona realized that these children had been denied even the most rudimentary of educations. Though they could manage a few basic words, they could barely work through anything complex.

  She hid her disappointment and plunged in with a smile. “I believe we’ll put away our reader for now and see how many of you understand sums.”

  That brought groans from the children until they realized that their teacher was as good as her word, helping them to add and subtract by using colorful stones that she’d collected from the stream, and which she now passed around.

  By lunchtime, Fiona had managed to mentally divide the students into several groups, according to their age and ability. To spare their feelings, she decided that she would work on an individual basis with each of them until they’d had time to get into the rhythm of learning.

  “Does everyone have a lunch?”

  Seeing all the heads nodding, she pointed to the open door. “I believe, since it’s such a lovely day, we’ll eat in the grass.”

  Delighted, the children crossed the room to fetch their buckets and followed their teacher into the sunlight.

  Fiona chose a spot in the shade of an old oak, and the children gathered around her, sitting cross-legged in the grass as they nibbled on home-baked bread and sharp cheese, hard-boiled eggs, and summer sausage.

  She noticed that when Edmer chose a spot already taken by the boy named Erik, he merely stood scowling until Erik shuffled aside.

  “While we eat, why don’t you take turns telling me about yourselves.” Fiona turned to young Luther Dorf, who sat with eyes averted, head down. “Luther, how old are you?”

  He stared hard at the grass. “Seven.”

  “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  He gave a solemn shake of his head.

  “What about your parents?”

  “They died when our house burned down. I live with my grandfather now.” As he spoke, pale blonde wisps of hair dusted his forehead.

  “I’m sorry, Luther.” She realized that the boy’s journey here, like her own, had been the result of great sadness. “Is your grandfather a farmer?”

  “He’s a peddler.” Edmer announced it in a tone of voice that left no doubt that he considered such a thing far beneath farming. “He lives in a wagon,” he added smugly.

  Though it was on the tip of Fiona’s tongue to remind the older boy about common courtesy, she refrained. Instead she kept her gaze steady on Luther. “It must be interesting to live in a wagon and visit so many towns and villages, Luther.”

  That had the little boy looking at her with big eyes. “Grandpapa says I’m a big help to him.”

  “How grand, Luther.” Fiona could see the others looking on with interest. “Perhaps someday your grandfather could stop by our school and allow us to see just how the two of you make your living.”

  A smile bloomed in the little boy’s eyes. “I could ask Grandpapa.”

  “Good. And I’ll do the same. I’ll speak with him the first chance I get.” She glanced around at the children. “There’s so much we have to learn.”

  “Even you, Miss Downey?” Afton looked puzzled.

  “Especially me, Afton. While I’m teaching you what I know, you will all be teaching me.”

  Edmer gave a sneer, which the younger ones quickly imitated. “What are we supposed to teach a teacher?”

  “For one thing, you can teach me about life in Paradise Falls. Everything here is new to me, just as the classroo
m is new to most of you.” Fiona gathered up the linen towel and scattered the crumbs for the birds that were perched high above in the tree and was pleased to see some of her students do the same. Tucking the towel into her bucket, she stood and shook down her skirts. “I’ll give you a few minutes to run and play, before we have to go back to the classroom.”

  “Play?”

  For a moment the children seemed stunned by her words. Then, when they realized that she was serious, they raced off with shouts and shrieks of laughter and were soon caught up in a game of tag.

  Edmer and some of the older children merely stood to one side and watched, refusing to join in the fun.

  From her vantage point on the porch Fiona studied the two groups of children, sensing a wariness in the older ones. They’d been bullied by a teacher once, and it was far too soon for them to trust. But at least the youngest of her pupils seemed willing to take her at her word.

  She sighed and turned away. For now, for this moment, the panic of the previous night was gone. Perhaps it was the fact that she was finally doing what she’d come here to do. Or perhaps it was merely ignorance of what lay ahead.

  Whatever the reason, she felt a sense of calm about what she’d undertaken. There was no going back. Until the school year ended next summer, she was bound to this place, and to these people.

  She had a long journey ahead of her. For better or worse, she was determined to stay the course.

  EIGHT

  “Children.” Fiona couldn’t believe how quickly the day had flown. “It’s time to head home.”

  Afton and Luther looked up from the slate, where they had been painstakingly printing their letters. The older students, engaged in a game of subtraction Fiona had devised using the river stones, did the same.

  As they began collecting their empty lunch buckets and heading toward the door, Fiona followed. On the porch she called, “Will I see all of you tomorrow?”

  “Hard to say.” Edmer gave a negligent shrug as he moved past her, enjoying the fact that he was almost a head taller than his teacher. “Not if Papa needs me with the haying.”

  Several of the older children followed his lead, brushing past Fiona quickly and offering similar excuses.

  She felt her heart stop. Had she made so little impact that they were already looking for reasons to stay home?

  Luther paused and gave her a timid smile. “I’ll be back, Miss Downey.”

  She could have wept. But all she said was, “I’m glad, Luther.”

  As he began running across the field to catch up with the others, Fiona cupped her hands to her mouth to shout, “I look forward to seeing all of you in the morning.”

  She stood watching until all but the tallest were hidden by the high grass. Turning away she began to straighten the classroom, wiping down the desktops and slate, emptying the bucket of water by the door, and another in the outhouse.

  She eyed the bouquet of wildflowers and considered taking them home. The thought of Rose’s disapproval stopped her. It would be better to keep them here in the classroom, where she could perhaps get another day of pleasure from them before they faded.

  As she worked, her good nature was slowly restored, and with it, her optimism. The children would be here in the morning. At least most of them. She was certain of it.

  Hearing the approach of a horse and wagon, she gave a little laugh and caught up her lunch pail. She couldn’t wait to share every moment of this day with Gray. She pulled the door shut, latching it behind her, and turned with a bright smile.

  “Flem.” She managed to keep her smile in place, though just barely. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve come to fetch you home.” He leaned down and offered his hand, pulling her easily to the seat beside him.

  Her hip brushed his, causing his smile to widen. “So. How many ears did you have to box, teacher?”

  “Not a single one.” She moved a little away and smoothed her skirts as the horse started off with a trot.

  “I’m disappointed. I believe I’d better drop by one of these days and let your students know that it is their solemn duty to annoy their teacher.”

  “Is that what you did, Flem?”

  His smile was quick and charming. “I left that for others. I was always the good boy. Can’t you tell?”

  She laughed. “I suspect you were very good at leading the others into mischief and then sitting back pretending to be innocent.”

  He put a hand to his heart in mock distress. “Is that what you think of me? You wound me deeply, Miss Downey. My poor heart may never be the same.”

  “Are you certain you have a heart, Flem?”

  “What a thing to say. Feel the way it beats.” He boldly grabbed her hand and held it to his chest “Oh. Now you have it ticking like a runaway clock.” He continued holding her hand, even when she tried to pull it away, enjoying the color that flooded her cheeks.

  Fiona was laughing at his antics as they came up over a rise. Her smile faded when she caught sight of Gray kneeling in the dirt, struggling to lift a heavy beam from beneath his wagon. The wood appeared to have broken in two. The weight of it must have been staggering.

  He’d unhitched the horse and turned it into a nearby field to graze. In the heat of the afternoon he’d removed his shirt before tackling the task at hand.

  Seeing them, he lowered his burden to the ground and got to his feet, shrugging into his shirt before wiping his hands on his pants and walking toward them.

  “Looks like that axle’s broken,” Flem called.

  Gray barely flicked him a glance before turning to Fiona. “How was your first day?”

  “Oh, it was grand, Gray. I’ve so much to tell you.”

  “You can tell him later.” Flem flicked the reins, causing the horse to jerk. “I’d say he has his work cut out.”

  Gray had to step away quickly or be bumped.

  As the horse and cart shot forward Flem shouted over his shoulder, “Better not dawdle, big brother. Ma won’t like it if you’re late for supper.”

  Fiona turned, about to say something, but she was forced to grasp the back of the hard wooden seat after Flem cracked the whip, sending them flying, She swallowed back her disappointment. She’d so wanted to share this day with Gray. But from the stormy look in his eyes, perhaps it was just as well Flem had come for her instead. Gray seemed in no mood to listen to her silly prattle when he had more important things to deal with.

  “Is a broken axle a hard thing to repair?”

  “Not if you have the proper tools.”

  “Does Gray have the proper tools?”

  “I didn’t ask.”

  “Shouldn’t you have stayed and offered to help?”

  “Help Gray?” That had Flem laughing. “Haven’t you noticed? My big brother likes to do everything himself. I’d only be in the way.”

  “But it would seem that two could do the job much faster than one.”

  “Not if the one is Grayson Haydn. Haven’t you heard? According to my father, Gray can walk on water.”

  Despite Flem’s attempt at a joke, Fiona could hear the raw anger in his tone, but as if to prove her wrong, he shot her a boyish smile. As they drew near the barn, he leaned back and let the reins go slack. “I’d love to hear all about your first day at school, teacher.”

  She glanced over shyly. “Would you really, Flem, or are you just humoring me?”

  “Of course I mean it. I want to hear everything.” As they rolled into the barn he jumped down before reaching up to assist her. He allowed his hands to linger at her waist for a moment, until she stepped away. “Why don’t you stay and keep me company while I unhitch the horse?”

  She sighed, feeling the need to tell someone. The excitement of this day was building until she feared it would cause an explosion in her brain.

  “Oh, Flem.” She sat on a bale of hay and began telling him everything, from her first anxious moments, to the smile given her by Luther at the end of the day.

  “I
f I’d known you were so keen on shy boys, I’d have shown you my true self. I’m really quite shy, you know.”

  “You don’t even know the meaning, Flem. Now let me tell you about Edmer, I think he may turn out to be my biggest challenge of all.”

  “Then a word of warning, teacher. Edmer Rudd’s father, Christian, is one of the richest and most powerful men in Paradise Falls. You’d be wise to treat his son with care.”

  “I’ll not treat Edmer differently than any of my other students, Flem. That wouldn’t be fair.”

  “Fair? Why would you think life would be fair?” Seeing the firm press of her mouth, he shrugged. “Suit yourself. But remember that I warned you. Now, tell me all about Edmer and the others.”

  Fiona was still talking as they crossed the yard and entered the house. In the kitchen Rose looked up in annoyance at the sound of Fiona’s animated voice. At once her young houseguest fell silent.

  Flem breathed deeply, turning all his attention to his mother to placate her. “Something smells wonderful.”

  “I made your favorite. Roggenmischbrot, along with roast beef and biscuits.”

  In an aside to Fiona, Flem translated. “That’s sourdough rye bread.”

  Rose studied her son. “Where have you been?”

  “I was heading back from town and offered our teacher a ride home. A good thing. Gray’s taking his sweet time out along the south road. If he’s not careful, he’ll be late for supper.”

  Fiona shot him a look. When he didn’t bother to explain, she said quickly, “Gray can hardly help taking his time, since he’s working on a broken axle.”

  Rose’s lips thinned. “Broken axle or no, I’ll not hold supper for him. Nor for your father. Where is that man?”

  Flem shrugged. “He wasn’t in the barn.”

  “I haven’t seen him all afternoon.” Rose moved around the table, snapping down plates, knives, forks, spoons as though they were too hot to hold.

  Fiona felt a quick rush of alarm. “With his condition he can’t have gone far. Perhaps we should go look for him.”