Isaiah sticks his head through the kitchen door and he looks frantic.
Something got to the new calf! Round up the boys!
I race around the farm calling for my brothers, but by the time we get to the north field, it’s plain as my face that there’s nothing to be done for the calf. What’s left of it, that is.
Kaarlo pronounces judgment like a preacher.
Cougar, he says.
We got to do something! Isaiah pleads.
Wilbert says, Get Wild Cat Clark.
Wild Cat Clark is the best cougar hunter in the valley. Every boy dreams of being him because a dead cougar means fifty dollars in your pocket.
My cocky brother Ivan says, I’m a better shot than Wild Cat Clark.
Nobody’s a better shot than Wild Cat Clark! I say, and Alvin the loyal twin says, Who asked you anyway?
Wendell is squinting back at the house.
Is That Smoke? he asks. Or are my glasses dirty?
I follow where he is looking and sure enough smoke is curling out the open window of the kitchen.
The laksloda! I cry.
We race back to the house and into the kitchen and when I open the stove my beautiful laksloda is all burned up, the milk dried out and of course Pappa walks in the door at that very moment.
That supper? he growls.
I bite my lip.
Well, Wilbert says, at least it’s Done this time.
* * *
There’s a knock at the door, and Jacob Clayton our neighbor is standing there holding a pie. Mr. Clayton is a good neighbor. When our roof broke he came over and worked all week to help us fix it.
I saw your mother leave, he says to me.
She’s off catching a baby.
I figured as much, he says. I made a pie. You have your supper yet?
May Amelia burned it! Ivan says.
She’s No Kind Of A Cook! Alvin adds.
Now that’s no way for a gentleman to speak about a young lady, Mr. Clayton says to Alvin.
Ivan snorts and Alvin says, May Amelia ain’t no lady!
We eat Mr. Clayton’s delicious mincemeat pie for supper and drink it down with fresh milk from our cows. After our bellies are full, we sit by the fire and the boys polish their guns and the men smoke their pipes. Mr. Clayton looks at the lumps of lead on the mantel.
Finns melt lead on New Year’s to predict what will happen in the year to come. You pour the melted lead into water and you’re supposed to be able to tell the future from the lumps. A ring or a heart means love, and a ship means travel, and if it looks like a pig, it means you won’t go hungry. Last New Year’s we melted lead, and Pappa’s lump was curved like a Boat, and Mamma’s was a Ring, and my lump looked like an Ear. Pappa says mine meant that maybe I would finally learn to Pay Attention.
This one looks kind of like an Ear, Mr. Clayton says.
That’s May’s lump, Wilbert says.
I should’ve gotten an ear, Wendell says loudly.
Mr. Clayton asks Pappa, How is it up at the logging camp?
Pappa grunts. Lars the Swede will make them rich yet, the way he drives the crew.
Where’d you learn to make pie? I ask Mr. Clayton.
A surgeon taught me, he says, flexing his hand. Mr. Clayton’s from the south originally and had three of his fingers shot off in a battle.
A surgeon? Wendell asks.
During the war, I worked in the tents where they brought the wounded and most of them weren’t nothing but boys and all they wanted was their mammas. Since we couldn’t give them that, one of the surgeons told me that pie was the next best thing. It would remind them of home.
How come the surgeon didn’t sew your fingers back on? I ask.
Because we couldn’t find them after they got blown off, Mr. Clayton says.
Did you look real good? I ask him.
Believe me, he says, I looked.
A clear shot rings through the night air.
It’s a girl! I say.
Pappa puffs on his pipe, and says, Bad luck for them.
We spend the afternoon putting in the spuds. Mamma wants to get them in early so that she can sell them to the logging camp before everyone else. Mamma is very clever like that.
Now it is suppertime and Mamma is pacing in front of the window. Pappa is late.
Where can he be? Mamma asks, but no one answers her.
The whistle starts blowing in the distance and everyone goes still and counts. One. Two. Three. Four.
Mamma turns so pale I think she’s going to fall over.
Go! she says to me and Wilbert. Dear Heavens Go Now!
Get the drums, May! Wilbert orders me.
Wilbert and I run out of the house on the trail leading to Armstrong’s logging camp. The forest is so thick that I must look straight up at the sky if I wish to see the light. We bang on drums made from tin cans as we walk through the trees so that the big black bears will be scared away and not eat us.
We reach the Weilen place. Old Man Weilen’s setting on his front porch with his wife, Jane, who is a Chinook lady and our dear friend.
Whose boy are you? Old Man Weilen asks.
I ain’t a boy! I’m May Amelia Jackson!
Jalmer Jackson’s got nothing but boys, the old man insists.
That’s May Amelia, Jane tells her husband. She pats his hand and says to us in a low voice, He gets a little confused sometimes.
Do you know who got hurt? Wilbert asks.
She looks sympathetic. No, she says. But I heard the whistles, and it’s never good news.
As we run away I hear Old Man Weilen say, I tell you, that’s a boy.
Men are racing around when we reach the logging camp. Uncle Niihlo is the first one I see. He is the husband of Mamma’s sister Ana, who is still back in Finland. He is tall as the trees and one of the best loggers in the valley.
Who got hurt? Wilbert asks.
No one, Uncle Niihlo says.
But the four whistles? I say.
Uncle Niihlo frowns in annoyance and says, The new whistle punk can’t count. We’ve had three wives up here already looking for their husbands’ dead bodies.
They should hire me on, Wilbert says. I can count!
So Pappa’s all right then? I ask.
He’s fine, but he won’t be home for supper. Old Lars wants us to work late so he can release the splash dam tomorrow.
The splash dam is a Marvel. They dam the river high up and gang all the logs behind it. When they release the dam, the force of all that water shoots the logs down the river to the boom and then they are rafted to the sawmill. The splash dam is also Dangerous. That’s how Lonny got hurt. He was playing in the river when they released the logs and got banged up good and was never the same after that. Since then, they always send a boy to let folks know when the splash dam is going to be released so that no one’s taking a bath or doing their washing when half the trees on the mountain come hurtling down.
Off in the distance I see a bushy beard.
There’s Pappa! I say, and start running through the woods. I’ve nearly reached him when someone grabs me about the waist and wrenches me back and we fall on the ground. A huge tree comes crashing down right in front of me and one of the branches scrapes my leg.
That was close! Uncle Niihlo, my rescuer, hisses in my ear, and then everyone rushes over at once.
Pappa hollers at me.
You Foolish Girl You Almost Got Killed! Didn’t You See That Tree Falling?
I didn’t see it, Pappa, I say, and wince in pain.
You okay, May? Wilbert asks.
My leg hurts bad, I whisper.
Pappa peels back my torn overalls and shakes his head. There are slivers of wood beneath my skin and it’s all bloody and raw.
Oh, Girl, he says on a sigh. Then he lifts me up gently and carries me to the cook, an old fella named Mr. Henrickson who’s been at the camp forever and is also their makeshift doctor.
Pappa holds my hand while Mr. Henrickson tries to dig
out the slivers, but it’s no good. They’re too deep. He slices off a piece of salt pork and puts it on my leg and bandages it with some strips of muslin.
Leave it on overnight, he instructs. Your mother will be able to dig those slivers out in the morning.
Can you walk? Pappa asks me.
I give a shaky nod.
Pappa orders, Wilbert take your sister home now. And May Amelia, Try Not To Get Yourself Killed!
* * *
It’s gone dark, the only light is from the twinkly stars and we can barely see them through the thick trees. My leg is throbbing now, and it’s a long walk home.
You gonna make it? Wilbert asks, as I lean into him.
I grit my teeth and nod grimly.
Look, we’re at Spiderweb Alley, he says. Not too far now.
The children call this part of the woods Spiderweb Alley because it’s all fir trees, and there are spiderwebs everywhere.
Ugh! I say as a sticky lacy spiderweb clings to my face. Then I feel something crawling on the back of my neck and smack around.
Wilbert, I got a spider on me! Get it off!
It’s just a little spider, May. You gotta get some sisu.
Why is everyone always telling me I need to get some sisu? Just living with a herd of brothers takes a whole lot of sisu if you ask me.
There’s a rustling ahead of us and I shove Wilbert forward.
Walk in front of me, Wilbert, I say.
Why? he asks.
Because if a bear attacks us, he’ll eat You first.
You’d miss me if I got ate, he says, laughing.
I’d still have six other brothers left, I say. That’s plenty.
But you wouldn’t have a Best Brother, he says.
And then I Hear It—a soft footstep behind us.
You hear that? I whisper, looking back into the dark. The shadows shake in the trees.
Hear what?
That noise, I say, and he shakes his head.
On second thought, maybe you should walk behind me, I suggest.
We keep on walking in the dark, or limping, and I hear it again, and it’s closer this time. But when I look behind me I can’t see anything but the darkness swirling.
Something’s following us, I whisper.
Probably just a rabbit, Wilbert says.
I hear a crunch again, and that’s it for me. I say Come On Wilbert, and he says It’s Probably Just A Rabbit, and I say Fine Then I’ll Let the Rabbit Eat You, and I take off fast as my aching leg will carry me through the woods—over fallen trees, and mossy ferns—and soon I can hear the sounds of Wilbert pounding behind me, and he’s calling Wait For Me but I’m not stopping for a brother who don’t listen to me, even if it is my Best Brother.
When I reach the front door of our house I fling it open, falling inside on the floor, and then Wilbert is tumbling in after me, slamming the door shut and trying to catch his breath.
You look like you’ve seen a ghost, May Amelia, Isaiah says.
Something was following us! I pant.
It was just a rabbit, Wilbert insists.
Wendell is peering out the window and he says in a soft voice, Never seen a rabbit with teeth that big.
All the boys rush over to the window and look out.
A Big Ole Cougar is pacing back and forth outside the door, sniffing like it’s found its supper!
Ivan snatches up his gun, and shouts, Alvin! and Alvin opens the window and blam! There is a dead cougar lying in front of our house.
Ivan and Alvin grin at each other.
Fifty dollars! they say in unison.
Wilbert turns to me and says, You may be no kind of cook, May Amelia, but you surely would have made A Tasty Meal for that cougar.
You’d miss me if I got ate, I say.
I’d still have six brothers left, Wilbert teases.
But you wouldn’t have a May Amelia, I say.
CHAPTER FOUR
We Live in Misery
It is the custom in Finland for people to take their last name after where they farm so there are a whole lot of folks walking around named Maki which means Hill. Even though we are the Jacksons, my brother Kaarlo thinks we should change our name to the Miserables because he says This Farm is Nothing But Misery and I hafta agree with him.
I’m standing in stinky marsh up to my knees trying to get one of our cows out of the mud. The Nasel has flooded the best part of our grazing land, turning it thick as molasses. Pappa says the Nasel is like a fickle woman who can’t decide which way she wants to go.
This cow’s name is Patience. Mamma named her after Pappa’s mother who wasn’t very patient at all. Patience has been stuck here all morning and if we do not get her out she is going to die when the tide comes in. We got a rope around Patience’s neck and Isaiah and Wilbert are tugging while me and Kaarlo are pushing from behind. But the cow won’t budge.
Should’ve named her Stubborn, Kaarlo says.
Pappa’s gonna skin us alive if we don’t get her out, Wilbert mutters.
The cow flicks her tail in Kaarlo’s face.
You Dumb Cow, he shouts in frustration. And then he mutters, I wish I’d been shanghaied.
More than anything, Kaarlo wants to make his own way in the wide world. But with Matti gone, there’s even more work on the farm, and most of it falls to poor Kaarlo. Pappa will never let him leave now.
You should talk nice to her, Isaiah suggests. Isaiah’s got a soft heart and loves all animals, even cows, who don’t have any sense.
Talk nice to the cow? Kaarlo snorts.
Maybe Isaiah’s right, I say. Who’d want to listen to your hollering?
Kaarlo’s eyes darken.
The only thing this cow’s gonna listen to is a switch, he snaps, raising the leather switch. Out of my way, girl!
I try to move but my foot is stuck fast in the thick mud and I know how the cow feels. Kaarlo, I say but he’s already bringing the switch down—
Right on my backside!
I screech so loud that they probably hear me clear across the river in Astoria!
Ow!!!
The cow bolts straight out of the mud.
I hate you, Kaarlo! I wail, rubbing my backside.
Kaarlo roars with laughter.
That’s one way to get a cow out of the mud, Kaarlo says with a grin.
The smile on Kaarlo’s face disappears the next morning when he finds out that Ivan and Alvin have taken jobs up at the logging camp. He and Pappa have a terrible fight.
I’m the oldest! Why can’t I go? Kaarlo demands.
Because you are My Right Hand, Pappa says. I need you here on the farm. Now I don’t want to hear another word.
Mamma leaves to catch a baby, and Pappa and Alvin and Ivan are all at the logging camp. The rest of us unlucky Jackson children are clearing stumps. Pappa has cleared the trees, but the stumps remain behind so that it looks like we are growing a crop of stumps. We used to dig them out by hand but now we use dynamite. It has taken us most of the morning to haul away one stump after Kaarlo blew it up.
Do we have to do that other stump, too? Wilbert asks, and Kaarlo says, If we don’t I’ll never hear the end of it from Pappa.
Kaarlo is the only one who is allowed to set the dynamite because it is so dangerous. It’s easy to get blown up and I think even Uncle Aarno would agree that that would be a bad way to go.
It’s ready, Kaarlo says. Everyone get back.
He lights the dynamite and we all run for shelter but coming up over the way is Wendell.
Wendell! I holler, but it’s no use because he’s deaf and the dynamite explodes and chunks of wood from the stump go flying in all directions like feathers flying off a chicken. When the dust settles, we rush over to where Wendell was standing. He’s lying on the ground.
Is he dead? I ask, but he groans.
Kaarlo rolls him over. His glasses are broken but he’s fine.
He opens his eyes and blinks.
Wonderful, he says. Now I’m Deaf and Blind.
Sunday is a day of rest but nobody bothered to tell the big bear who knocked down the fence in our field where our sheeps graze. We children must go straight home after church and start mending fences while Mamma and Pappa go visiting at Jacob Clayton’s place.
Isaiah is talking softly to one of the sheeps.
How are you feeling today, Mr. Weilen? he asks. Isaiah names our sheeps after the neighbors.
Ivan and Alvin are going on about how Exciting it is to work at the logging camp.
Uncle Niihlo says I’m a natural, Ivan boasts.
Kaarlo stares stonily at the ground and I feel sorry for him. It’s not fair.
You should see the stump Kaarlo blew up yesterday! I tell Ivan.
Nearly took off my head, Wendell says.
Wilbert says, May, are you cooking?
Why? I ask.
He points at the smoke leading to the sky over the ridge by our house.
No, I whisper and we all start running like mad, like crazy, to get to the house. Halfway there, we see Pappa and Mr. Clayton running in the same direction. They must have seen it, too, and Pappa shouts, Did You Burn Something Again, Girl? but I just shake my head.
The Barn! Kaarlo shouts.
Our barn is on fire, and the flames are licking at the sky like greedy fingers trying to catch a cloud.
Pappa is yelling at the boys to save our animals. He kicks the door open and a horse comes running out, its tail a burnt singe.
Buttons! I cry, and start to run for the barn but Wilbert holds me back and says, Don’t Be Stupid, May, It’s Just A Cat!
Soon rowboats start arriving with neighbors to see if we need help, but there’s nothing to help as there’s no stopping a barn fire. It’s the worst kind of fire ever, and we’re just lucky Pappa built it far enough away from the house or else we would be as homeless as our horses.
I sit on a log and watch it burn.
Berle Holumbo comes huffing up to me carrying a string of fish.
May! he shouts. I was fishing and saw the smoke! Anybody hurt?
My cat, Buttons, and her kittens are in there, I say, and feel the tears run down my cheeks.
The Trouble with May Amelia Page 3
