To enjoy the sights that her window offered, and to take advantage of the sunlight that it let float through, Leona placed a small rocking chair her father had crafted just to the left of it, where she could gaze at the outdoor scenery, or, alternatively, sit and read her books by the light of the inviting window.
When she sat in her chair and read her novels, Leona’s imagination often made the story even more creative than the author likely intended, or could have imagined. The first book she read there was The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain. It was given to her in April for her 8th birthday, and it was very instrumental in helping her feel at ease in her new room. When she read it, it quickly became her favorite novel.
—1—
That first summer Leona grew to love her little room overlooking the scenic back field more and more. It was her place to be alone with her thoughts and dreams. And those thoughts and dreams were, as always, of visiting far away places. But a fortuitous event happened shortly after she moved into her cozy bedroom that provided the little girl and her big imagination with something else to dream about: becoming a famous Broadway singer and dancer.
Not more than a day after their new home was renovated, Eunice showed up with a surprise for the Haleys; and when she walked through the door, 8-year-old Leona was the first to greet her.
“Hi, Grandma! What’s that you’re carrying?”
“It’s a brand new phonograph, Leona. I bought it in Bangor. A man by the name of Thomas Edison invented it.”
“What does it do?”
“It plays music, dear.”
Leona led her grandmother into the kitchen and said: “Mama! Look what Grandma brought. A phonograph. It plays music! ”
“Why did you lug it all the way up here, Mom?” Margaret asked. “Wouldn’t it have been easier for you to invite us down there to hear it?”
“It’s not for me, Maggie. I bought it, along with this brand new Broadway album, especially for you and your family to enjoy.”
“Why on Earth did you do that? You shouldn’t go spending your money on us like that.”
“Why not, dear? You helped me so much when I needed it, and I wanted to do something special for you; buying this is what I came up with. Think of it as a housewarming gift.”
“Are you sure you can afford it, Mom?”
“Oh yes. I don’t need much, what with all my kids now on their own. And I can’t hardly think of a more worthwhile way to spend my money.”
“Thanks, Mom. How does it work?”
“Here, help me set it up and I’ll show you.”
“Can I help, Mama?” Leona asked.
“Sure, dear,” she answered. “Just do what your grandma says.”
“Let’s set it on the table, Leona,” Eunice said, “and you can wind it up. Just turn this crank here until it won’t turn no more, and I’ll insert the record.”
When the phonograph began to play, Leona was totally amazed. Even though the music was slightly distorted, she couldn’t have cared less; it was the first time she heard music coming from a machine.
“That’s wonderful, Grandma,” she said. “Thank you for buying it for us.”
“That’s quite okay, Leona. I hope you folks enjoy it.”
“Oh, we will, Mom,” Margaret said. “You can count on that.”
—2—
The new Victrola phonograph was used by all the Haleys that first summer, most often by Leona and her mother. Leona was so enthralled by the phonograph that she often took it to her room where it usually ended up staying until someone else wanted to use it. It was in Leona’s room that she first learned to sing and dance, in no small way thanks to the music coming from that Victrola. While using it she discovered that dancing and singing were part of her being, so much so that when the little girl was not reading and dreaming, she was singing or dancing alone in her room to the music it played.
Leona had a melodic voice and was able to carry a tune without much difficulty. She also had an athletic grace about her when she danced in front of her bedroom mirror. Although Leona enjoyed elegant ballet and ballroom dancing, she preferred fast-paced dancing even more. Even though no one could see her dancing behind the closed bedroom door, her family could invariably hear her singing.
“I can’t believe how good Leona’s voice sounds for an 8-year-old,” Margaret commented to Murdock one day.
“Yeah, she can sure carry a tune all right.”
Murdock was even more pleased with his daughter’s singing than he let on. He often sat on the bottom steps of the stairs, just to listen to the sound of Leona’s melodic voice emanating from the upstairs bedroom. He especially liked hearing her hum Beautiful Dreamer: his favorite song.
“I’ve never heard it done so beautifully,” he told Margaret. “I can’t wait ‘til she knows the words, and her voice is a bit more refined.”
That night at the supper table Murdock spoke to his daughter: “I heard you humming Beautiful Dreamer today, Leona. You have a wonderful voice.”
“Thanks, Papa,” the little girl answered shyly, her face becoming blushed.
“Did you know that it’s my favorite song?”
“Kind’ah, Papa. You’re always whistling it, so I sort’ah figured that you liked it a whole lot.”
“Well, it is. It’s the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard. Someday soon I’m gonna teach you the words, so you can sing it for me. I used to know them all by heart, but my memory isn’t what it was, and most of the lyrics have slipped my mind. But I’m sure I’ll be able to find them in a songbook at the Bangor Library. Do you know who wrote it, dear?”
“No, Papa. Who?”
“A man by the name of Stephen Foster. He also wrote Oh! Susanna, My Old Kentucky Home, Old Folks at Home, and a boatload of songs like those. And there’s something pretty special about him besides his composing ability.”
“What’s that, Papa?”
“He was born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania….”
“What’s so special about that, Papa,” Leona joked, when Murdock momentarily paused.
“Not that, Leona. You didn’t let me finish. What I wanted to tell you was: he was born on the Fourth of July, in 1826, on the 50th anniversary of this country. Isn’t that amazing?”
Before Leona could respond, Lillian spoke up: “It sure is, Papa, but, my gosh, I just remembered something even more amazing than that.”
“And what would that be, dear?” Murdock asked.
“I learned in American History that the two most famous Founding Fathers—Thomas Jefferson and John Adams—always longed to see America’s 50th anniversary. The teacher said they saw it all right, but just barely. They both died on that day from old age. And, the funny thing is, she told us that when Adams was about to die, he seemed happy, saying: ‘Thomas Jefferson survives.’ He didn’t know that Jefferson had died five hours earlier.”
“I didn’t know that,” Murdock said. “That’s sure somethin’; quite an amazing coincidence.”
“It sure is,” Margaret agreed. “Just the thought of those two dying on the 50th anniversary of this country gives me goosebumps. And having America’s most famous songwriter being born on that day too makes it even more amazing. Anyway, Leona, I agree with your father. You have a very beautiful voice.”
Until she heard her parents’ compliments that night, Leona wasn’t sure if her singing was any good or not. The only thing Leona knew for sure was that she enjoyed music and loved to sing. However, the jovial 8-year-old did realize that her dancing ability was above average and that she enjoyed dancing even more than singing. So, the athletic girl kept practicing and practicing until dancing became almost second nature to her.
“I know I can get good enough to become a professional dancer,” the optimistic girl thought.
—3—
When Leona went to bed one night, a few
days after moving in, she thought about her life, and her heart was filled with joy. She realized that her happiness was not just a result of her life dreams—which she knew would come true—but also a result of her idyllic life in rural West Glenburn. Living in the country was better than she could ever have imagined, and to say that she was happy in her little room would be a huge understatement.
Leona loved waking at the break of dawn to the delightful “cock-a-doodle-doo” sound of the new rooster her father had bought, along with a dozen chickens for its harem, from old Mr. Kelley, a farmer who lived on the Cemetery Road. Thanks mostly to Lillian she often found herself laughing hysterically shortly after hearing the rooster’s crow, and that was because her sister constantly complained about the “ungodly sound” that she hated with a passion. Lillian always overslept and nobody or nothing could easily wake her; however, the rooster’s piercing “cock-a-doodle-doo” was the exception.
Leona laughed the loudest after hearing that sound when she recalled the first morning after her father brought the rooster home. It was a Sunday morning, and the rooster’s crow woke her up. Then she heard Lillian shouting.
“Papa, can’t you shut that thing up; I’m trying to sleep.”
But Murdock didn’t hear his daughter. The rooster continued its crowing and Lillian got madder and madder, so after 15 minutes of torture she forced herself to roll out of bed and staggered to the bedroom door. She opened it and screamed as loud as she could:
“Papa! Papa!”
This time Murdock heard her.
“What is it, Lillian? Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not okay,” she answered. “That damn rooster woke me up and I can’t get back to sleep because it won’t stop crowing. Do something to make it shut up, or I swear to God, I’m gonna. And you won’t like it.”
“Lillian, stop that swearing,” Murdock yelled, “and stop your whining or I’m gonna do something you won’t like. Do you understand me? Now, since you’re already awake, put some clothes on and do something constructive. It’s nearly 6:00, so you should be getting up anyway.”
Of course, Leona knew that there was no way in hell that Lillian would be doing anything but heading back to bed; and Murdock knew that too.
As much as Leona enjoyed the sound of the early morning rooster, during the day she loved listening to the chirping sounds that wild birds made through her invariably open window, most especially tiny chickadees and swallows; and to the rhythmic tapping sounds of Hairy and Red-headed woodpeckers. However, to Leona’s way of thinking, the nighttime sounds were just as intriguing, be it the soothing sound of nocturnal whip-poor-wills, the eerie squeaking sounds of crickets, the bone-chilling cries of owls, or the oft annoying croaking of ugly-looking bullfrogs that frequented a small spring flowing near the Haley home. Furthermore, during the night she enjoyed watching magical fireflies light up the outdoors, creating a beautiful field of flickering stars that rivaled those in the sky. But, of course, the curious lightning bugs couldn’t really rival the mysterious star-filled sky, not in Leona’s mind anyway.
The little girl often found herself lost in dreams while watching the bright-yellow, seemingly motionless Moon and stars light up the night, occasionally seeing a shooting star, quickly closing her eyes and making a wish when she did. Leona wasn’t sure if her wish would come true or not, but she would always remember the pearls of wisdom her parents shared the first time she saw a shooting star and asked them if her wish would come true.
“I’m not sure, sweetheart,” Margaret replied, “but I know one thing for sure: A wish can only come true if you make one.”
“Your mother’s right, Leona,” Murdock said. “Just like dreams can only come true if you dream them. So never stop dreaming, Leona. Never stop dreaming.”
Upon hearing her parents, she thought about what they said and realized just how wise they were, deciding that from then on she would banish all skeptism, except that intended to keep her and her loved ones safe.
Although Leona enjoyed the mysterious sights and sounds of the nights, her imagination and curiosity allowed her to find almost as much enjoyment on stormy days. The little girl was truly captivated by the sound of rain falling melodically on the roof, and afterwards she relished the sweet, refreshing smells that followed a gentle summer shower. Even during violent thunderstorms, which both Arlene and Lillian dreaded more than a weeks worth of homework, Leona watched with childlike amazement the colorful streaks of lightning that brilliantly lit up the eerie darkened sky. Instead of being afraid, the young girl was mesmerized by the jagged yellow streaks that danced in the sky, providing entertainment for her eyes, and she was surprisingly exhilarated by the loud booms that soon followed, sometimes making her ears feel like they were about to burst. Even when the thunderclap happened at a time she was least expecting it, thus causing her heart to almost explode, Leona quickly recovered her senses in time to laugh at her sisters upon seeing them jump out of their skins and run to their mother or father, whoever happened to be closest.
Sometimes, after a thunderstorm was over, a beautiful, multicolored rainbow would appear in the southern sky, and Leona would marvel at is beauty. More often than not the scene it helped create, with abundant assistance from the cloud-filled sky it occupied and the yellowish-green, rain-washed forest it presided over, was more beautiful than any painting she had seen.
Another, and at times an even more soothing thing that Leona got great enjoyment from was lying on the soft, green grass near the back porch on warm summer days, watching white, fluffy clouds float slowly by. Sometimes her imagination allowed her to see images of animals or people or whatever she wanted to see in those clouds. But the thing that she enjoyed the most that first summer was both the beauty and fragrance of her mother’s flower garden, or maybe it was the peaceful sight of her mother working in that garden that Leona enjoyed most.
—4—
Margaret often relaxed by caring for her eye-catching flowers: flowers that grew in a large, circular garden, one that she planted only a week after moving to Glenburn. She also planted smaller patches of flowers that summer; most were wildflowers she found in the woods, and they were sprinkled here and there around the outside of the Haley house, enhancing its beauty. Leona relished the beauty that surrounded her, doubting that any place on Earth could be more beautiful than this. Although anywhere you looked was pleasing to the eye, it was the large, circular, multicolored flower garden that was Margaret’s pride and joy. She arranged the garden so skillfully that it appeared most beautiful when seen from either the large living room window or her bedroom windows, or from the back porch that sat in front of them. More often than not you could see Margaret sitting on the porch swing, many times with Murdock by her side, just peacefully gazing at her beautiful flower garden.
Leona also took pride in her mother’s garden because she helped finish it by planting multicolored pansies in the circular front row. She had watched her mother painstakingly plant the precisely spaced circular interior rows, being careful to plant slightly smaller flowers in front of those in the center, followed by successive rows with slightly shorter flowers than the one just behind it. Leona, knowing how careful and meticulous her mother had been, also took great pains to make sure that her mother’s delicate pansies were put into the ground with just as much care. When finished, the arrangement took on the appearance of a circular pyramid-like flower garden, with its center being a two-foot diameter cluster of purple-and-white irises—Margaret’s favorite flower. From the innermost to the outermost, the three circular rows separating the tall irises from the diminutive pansies consisted of yellow black-eyed susans, red and yellow tulips, and orange butterflyweeds.
With the elder Haleys taking great pains to create a special home and environment, the early years in and around the new Haley home would be full of enjoyment for all members of the family. Although they had to work hard to make ends meet, their plight was
no different from any other family’s in those days. Unlike many families however, the Haleys refused to take life for granted and spent most of their spare time together, enjoying the fresh air, the serenity, and the safety of life in the country. Those were the things that Margaret and Murdock strove to give their children when they talked about moving to Glenburn; and, to their way of thinking, they had achieved those goals. Indeed, the parents were more than content with their move to rural Glenburn, and with the way they were able to fix up their new property to provide their children with a nice home and loving environment, and Margaret’s flower garden was the centerpiece of that property, setting it above any other in the neighborhood and gaining much praise from passersby for the Haley matriarch. Indeed, the beautiful, serene garden, with an abundance of butterflies, birds, bees and other life that it attracted, came to symbolize the Haleys’ idyllic lifestyle.
Chapter 22
Making Ends Meet
Although the house where the Haleys now lived was only seven miles from the Bangor Freight Station, in the days of horses and buggies that was “a far piece to go,” as most Mainers were prone to say, especially during the cold and blustery winter months, which oftentimes made the shortest of trips extremely challenging. Even though the Broadway Trolley Service helped make that trip somewhat tolerable, for most people the fare was far too high and much of the time the trolley was far too unreliable, and it was no different for Murdock. As a result, soon after moving to Glenburn he gave serious thought to finding work closer to home, and one morning over breakfast he discussed that possibility with Margaret.
“Maggie, I’ve been thinking about quitting my job and finding work here in Glenburn.”
“What’s the trouble, Murdy? You having problems at the Station?”
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