Lost Goat Lane

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Lost Goat Lane Page 17

by Rosa Jordan


  “The decision that we were not going to lose this farm. If that meant raising our own food and no new school clothes and hardly any Christmas presents—”

  “But Sugar had babies!” Chip said excitedly.

  “Yes,” Mom laughed. “And that’s not the only surprise. Here’s another one. On Friday, I was able to made one more mortgage payment, so we aren’t behind anymore. It was those back payments that brought on all the talk about foreclosure. But now we’re caught up.” Mom gave them a serious smile. “It’ll take most of next year to get the place entirely paid off, but we’re through the worst. You kids never should’ve fretted about losing the farm. I told you I wouldn’t let that happen.”

  Kate thought about the nightmare she had had so often, even when she wasn’t asleep, about how the men from the bank would come one day and they would all have to go nobody-knew-where. Kate didn’t know how much she’d been worrying until Mom took the worry away. Already it was starting to get fuzzy and disappear the way bad dreams do after you’ve been awake awhile.

  Justin put his hand on Mom’s knee. “Thanks,” he said.

  “So this place is going to keep on being ours?” Chip asked.

  “Yes, son.” Mom laughed and hugged him. “It belongs to us and this herd of goats.”

  Later they opened their presents, which as they’d already guessed were mostly clothes. There were new shoes all around, and two pairs of jeans and two T-shirts each. However, there were a few things they hadn’t expected. Mom had made a jacket for Kate and had gotten new book bags for the boys.

  Kate had made an extra-large box of chocolates, which she meant to give to the whole family, but now that she had something else for the boys, she gave it all to Mom. And Chip surprised them all with coffee cans full of cookies, which he and Luther had secretly made with Mrs. Wilson’s help.

  Chip was wrong about all the presents being soft. Justin just hadn’t taken his out of hiding and put them under the tree yet. He gave everybody something he had made in woodworking class. For Mom there was a decorative notepad holder to hang on the wall so she could leave them messages. Chip’s present looked like a board with holes drilled in each end. Chip stared at it, puzzled, for a few seconds. Then he exclaimed, “I know! It’s a swing seat!”

  “To replace the one that got munched in the hurricane when the branch snapped off,” Justin explained. “I’ll help you hang it after breakfast.”

  Then Kate opened Justin’s present for her. She saw right away that it had taken the longest to make. It was a new milking stool, because, Justin said, that time he milked Sugar he noticed that the old one was very wobbly.

  “Thank you, thank you,” they said to each other as they ripped open each package. But it was hard to focus on clothes or anything else when a baby goat was sticking its velvety nose in your ear or trying to suck your fingers. Then the little black one stood in the middle of a pile of tissue paper and peed.

  “Hey!” Chip yelled as he scrambled out of the way. “Watch out!”

  “Lucky it peed on wrapping paper and not in somebody’s new shoe,” Mom laughed. “Kate, maybe you and Justin should put them back in their pen now.”

  Kate scooped up the white kid and handed it to Justin. “Merry Christmas, Justin. This one’s yours.”

  Then she picked up the black one and nestled it in Chip’s arms. “Merry Christmas, Chip. She’s yours. You can name her whatever you want.”

  Chip buried his face in the kid’s soft black fur and whispered, “Go-Girl.” Then he looked up at Kate and said, “This is the best Christmas present I ever got.”

  After breakfast, Justin went out to hang Chip’s new swing. Mom asked Kate to help her do a few things in the kitchen, which she did. Then Justin came in and helped. Together it didn’t take long. As far as Kate could tell, most of the preparations for Christmas dinner had already been made by Mom during the night. There was a lot of food. It looked like they’d be eating leftovers for a week. Not that it mattered, since it was all stuff they liked and didn’t get very often. Finally Mom said that was all until the turkey was done. Kate offered to set the table but Mom said there was no rush, it was early.

  “I’m going to take a little nap, then I’ll finish up in here,” she said, waving them out of the kitchen. “You two go out and help Sugar look after those triplets.”

  Chip was in the pen with the baby goats. Justin climbed onto the top rail of the fence. Kate climbed up beside him. They sat there together, laughing at the antics of the baby goats. The triplets frolicked about, stopping now and then to look around with startled, quizzical looks that made them seem like cartoon animals come to life. Sugar watched them intently, as if every thing they did was wonderful and amazing.

  Around noon Mom came out to see the goats again. The way her eyes sparkled, you would never have guessed that she had been up almost all night. Chip was lying on the ground, letting the baby goats jump over him and sometimes on top of him. Suddenly he leapt to his feet and shouted, “Luther!”

  The Wilsons were walking up the driveway. Luther let go of his mother’s hand and ran to join Chip in the goat pen.

  “Merry Christmas!” Mom called. As she walked out to greet them, she said over her shoulder in a teasing way, “Oh, by the way, Kate, I forgot to tell you. I invited the Wilsons for Christmas dinner.”

  Kate knew from the way Mom said it that she hadn’t forgotten; she’d wanted it to be a surprise. Kate didn’t say anything. She didn’t know what to say, or even what she felt. Normally Kate would have been overjoyed to see the Wilsons visiting them for a change instead of the other way around. But now she had to face Ruby, and she was not prepared for that.

  Mrs. Wilson handed Mom fresh flowers arranged like a centerpiece for the table.

  “Oh, Mrs. Wilson!” Mom exclaimed. “How beautiful! Flowers this time of year are so special.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t want to live where I couldn’t raise flowers year around,” Mrs. Wilson said. “I always got things blooming in my garden.”

  “We couldn’t wait to get down here to see what Sugar brought you all last night.” Mr. Wilson grinned, looking over toward the goat pen.

  “I’ll say,” Mom said happily. “Come have a look.”

  Ruby walked over to where Kate sat on the fence. Kate didn’t look at her, but kept watching the baby goats.

  “Nice threads you got there, girl.” Ruby touched the sleeve of Kate’s jacket. “That a Christmas present?”

  “Mom made it,” Kate said. In fact, it was a beautiful jacket, denim patchwork with lace and velvet insets.

  “Talented woman, your mom. I wouldn’t mind having one like that myself.”

  Kate knew Ruby was trying to be friendly, but what was the point in being friends with somebody who never wanted to be your friend in the first place and now was about to disappear from your life? Kate focused on the goats, trying to hang on to the good feeling she got from watching them.

  Luther was on his knees, nose-to-nose with Go-Girl. “Look into her eyes,” Luther said to Chip. “You can see she’s very intelligent.”

  Chip put his face next to Luther’s and looked into the little kid’s eyes. “Go-Girl,” he said softly.

  The goat gave a tiny bleat.

  Chip turned to Luther. “You’re right. She already knows her name.”

  The sound of a van caused everybody to look toward the road.

  “By golly,” exclaimed Mr. Wilson. “It’s my boy!”

  “Uncle Booker!” Luther shouted.

  “Booker!” everybody shouted. “Hey, Booker!”

  Their shouts must have carried all the way out to Lost Goat Lane because the van stopped, backed up, and turned down the Martin driveway. The door of the van swung open. Booker sat there grinning at them.

  Mr. Wilson grabbed him by the hand. “Booker, you rascal! Why didn’t you tell us you were coming?”

  “Look, Uncle Booker,” Luther yelled. “Look at our baby goats!”

  “Well, if this isn’t
something! Merry Christmas, Mrs. Martin.”

  “Good to see you, Booker,” Mom said. “You’re just in time for Christmas dinner.”

  “You bet,” Booker boomed. “And I’m starving to death. Who wants a ride back to the house?”

  “Anybody going down to our house will have to cook for themselves,” Mrs. Wilson said. “Mrs. Martin invited us to have Christmas dinner here.”

  Mom smiled at Booker. “I doubt my cooking can match your mother’s, but I promise you won’t go away hungry.”

  “Well, now, I take that as a personal challenge.” Booker grinned at Justin. “Just like a woman, isn’t it? Always putting us men to the test. Mrs. Martin, if you want to lay one more place, I guarantee it’ll get used. Now back off, everybody. Let me get myself disorganized here and I’ll be right in.”

  “Take your time,” Mom said. “It’ll be a little while before everything’s on the table.”

  Mom and Mrs. Wilson went into the house. Mr. Wilson, Justin, Chip, Luther, and Ruby waited by the van while Booker unfolded his wheelchair, dropped it down beside the van, and lowered himself into it. When he was all settled, Booker glanced over at Justin, who was standing back a little, jiggling his baseball.

  “How you doing, Justin? About ready for tryouts?”

  “I plan to give it my best,” Justin said, standing up straight for a change.

  Booker reached into the side pocket of his wheelchair and came out with a worn baseball mitt. “In that case, maybe this’ll bring you some luck.” He handed it to Justin. “It’s the one I played with all through high school and Triple-A.”

  Kate, still sitting on the corral fence, watched as Justin slipped the glove onto his hand. Justin didn’t say a word, just stood there staring at the glove like it was the most wonderful thing he had ever seen in his entire life. With a grin that stretched across his whole face, Justin flipped the ball into the pocket. Booker gave him a thumbs-up sign, then spun his wheelchair around to face Luther and Chip.

  “Now what’s this I hear about Santa Claus spilling a sleighload of baby goats in the neighborhood? You boys got any proof?”

  “Yes, yes!” they shrieked. “Come see!”

  Chip tumbled into the corral, picked up Go-Girl, and passed her through the fence to Luther. Luther set her gently in Booker’s lap.

  “Well, I’ll be darned,” Booker said. “My old tomcat’s bigger than this little tiny thing.” He stroked the little goat a minute, then handed it back to Luther. “Better put her back in the pen before her mama thinks she’s been kidnapped.” Then Booker turned his chair around and wheeled toward the side yard where Justin was playing catch with Mr. Wilson.

  Luther gave the baby goat to Chip and climbed into the corral. Kate looked down at them sitting in the dirt, each with a baby goat in his lap. They talked in low voices, either not noticing or not caring that she could hear them.

  “Sugar probably told them how we saved her from that old you-know-what,” Luther said.

  “You think so?” Chip asked.

  “Mama animals do tell their babies things. That’s a scientific fact. I’ll bet she tells them that story a hundred times.”

  Ruby came over and stood next to Kate. Kate tried to look cheerful, but the truth was she didn’t feel like laughing or smiling. She wished everybody would go into the house, especially Ruby, so she could be alone. Then she heard Ruby take a deep breath.

  “You know, Kate, I was thinking maybe we could ask your mom to drive us out to some of those tourist shops along the freeway. See if we could get them interested in our candy.”

  Kate shot a quick look at Ruby, trying to figure out if she meant what it sounded like she meant.

  “Something else I was thinking, just now.” Ruby stood for a few seconds staring at Kate’s jacket. “I know a whole lot more about clothes than I do about candy. If your mom could teach me to make jackets like that one you’re wearing, I know I could sell them. Maybe we could do both.”

  “We could ask her,” Kate began cautiously, trying to hold back the excitement she felt bubbling up.

  “You know, we’re not going to get any kind of business going overnight. It’s going to take at least a year.”

  “I know,” Kate said. In fact, she had known that all along. Just about everything—growing a garden, raising calves up for market, waiting for Sugar’s babies to be born, making hand-dipped chocolates—everything took a long time, and usually a lot longer than you thought it would.

  Ruby looked off into the distance. “Thing is, Kate, I’ve never stuck to anything for a whole year. Not even high school.”

  Kate felt the determination she always felt when somebody acted like something wasn’t possible. She said, “I’m good at sticking to things. No matter how long it takes.”

  “Think you can stick to this?” Ruby asked.

  “Think you can?” Kate shot back.

  “I’m willing to try.”

  Kate felt like jumping for joy, but you can’t very well jump around on the shaky top rail of a fence. She started climbing down. As her foot touched the ground, she thought of something else. She turned to face Ruby. This wasn’t the best time to ask, but she had to know.

  “Ruby,” she asked, “do you still think people like us are ‘white trash’?”

  Ruby looked down at her beautiful silver-colored fingernails. Kate could see that she was embarrassed. Then she shrugged and said, “So I made a mistake.” She reached out and rubbed a velvet patch on the sleeve of Kate’s jacket. “But it didn’t take me all that long to change my mind about you, did it?”

  “I guess not.”

  Ruby gave Kate a funny little sideways smile. “So how long is it going to take you to make up your mind about me?”

  Kate didn’t answer. She just put her arms around Ruby and hugged her, hard. Ruby’s arms circled her shoulders, hugging back. “Come on, partner,” she said, “let’s go in and help our moms get dinner on the table.”

  “You go ahead,” Kate said. “I’ll be along in a bit.”

  She needed a few minutes alone to sort out things in her head. Or maybe in her heart. She wasn’t sure which.

  Ruby gave Kate’s shoulder a squeeze and went into the house. Kate leaned against the fence and watched Mr. Wilson and Justin over in the side yard playing catch with Booker. Then they headed toward the house.

  When they got to the porch, Booker turned his wheelchair backwards so Justin and Mr. Wilson could lift it up the steps, because their house didn’t have a ramp like the Wilsons’. Then Booker seemed to change his mind. He said something, and Mr. Wilson went on inside. Justin moved away from the house and started pitching the baseball in the air. Booker wheeled himself toward Kate.

  “Looks like you’re thinking some mighty heavy thoughts for a Christmas Day,” Booker said. “Everything okay?”

  Kate smiled. “Better than okay … I think.” Her smiled faltered a little, because the truth was, she was only hoping everything was okay. She wasn’t totally sure.

  “Some little thing gnawing at your mind?”

  That’s when it occurred to Kate that maybe Booker could help explain something she couldn’t get straight in her head.

  “I was thinking about how people prejudge other people. That’s the same as prejudice, right?”

  He looked hard at Kate. “You worried about somebody around here being prejudiced?”

  “Not exactly.” Kate hugged her new jacket close to her chest. “Just wondering how you keep from having ideas about somebody when you first meet them. And if you do have ideas, like you think this person is, well, something you don’t like, is that prejudice?”

  “Could be,” Booker agreed.

  “But you can’t help thinking something,” Kate pointed out. “Does that mean everybody’s prejudiced?”

  Booker, Kate had noticed, never stayed still very long. He sat pretty still while she was talking, but as soon as she finished, he started rolling his chair around in a tight circle, practically doing wheelies wit
h it. When he stopped, he was facing away from her, toward Justin, who was out in the yard playing catch with himself.

  “Come here, Kate,” Booker said suddenly.

  Kate went to stand by him.

  “Let’s say I’m a coach and you’re a coach. There’s that boy we’re watching out there who wants to play on our team. But he doesn’t look like much of an athlete from here, does he?”

  Kate frowned, but she nodded, because what Booker said was true. Justin was so skinny that if you didn’t know him, you wouldn’t know how good a ball player he was.

  Booker glanced up at her. “So we’re agreed? From an athletic point of view, he doesn’t make a very good impression.”

  “Not at first,” Kate admitted.

  “Which means we’ve prejudged the boy. Now let’s say he walks over and asks for a chance to try out. Me, I got my mind made up. I say, ‘No, son, I already decided you don’t have what it takes.’”

  Booker grinned up at Kate. “But you, Miss Coach, you say, ‘Well, boy, I’m going to give you a chance to show me how well you can handle a ball.’ When he does that and you see he’s a good player, you put him on the team.”

  “Yeah,” Kate said, relieved that Booker had worked out a scenario where Justin made the team.

  “The problem wasn’t the prejudging, because like you say, everybody probably does a little prejudging, even when they’re not meaning to. It was not giving the boy a chance, that’s what made one coach what you’d call prejudiced. But the other coach, she did give the boy a chance, and when she saw she was wrong, she right away changed her mind.”

  “Oh.” Kate remembered the first day she and Ruby took candy to town, how Ruby had called the townspeople close-minded because it looked like they weren’t going to give their candy a chance. But they had. Even Miss Tutweiler had been open-minded enough to try it.

  “So prejudice is not prejudging? It’s being close-minded?”

  “I’d say that’s about right,” Booker agreed.

  He glanced over at the goat pen. Luther was looking at his new watch. He waved his watch arm at Chip. As if that was a secret signal for lunch, the triplets suddenly leapt away from the boys, stuck their heads under Sugar’s belly, and started nursing.

 

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