by Faye Sonja
When Anna walked into the bedroom she saw the bare dresser top. The photos had gone. What did that mean? Perhaps he’d taken them to the lounge room or to the children’s rooms for them. Anna checked the girls’ room and Rose was still fast asleep in her good dress. Anna smiled at how peaceful she looked. No pictures in here.
She looked into Fred’s small room and then in the sitting room and kitchen. The photos were nowhere to be seen. Back in the main bedroom now, Anna pulled the top drawer open and there were the photos in their frames. Anna gathered up the seven of them.
Three she put on the girls’ dresser and three she put on Fred’s shelves, and the last family group one she placed on the sitting room sideboard. The children didn’t need to pretend their mother never existed, and neither did Anna.
It was what it was and the children had a big part of their mother in them which they should be allowed to express.
Once that was done she chose a simple dress and apron, pulled on her everyday shoes and ventured back outside to see what was going on. She’d have to think about supper soon.
“Hi, Lily. Are you building a fire in that grate?”
“Yes. We used to roast the corn when Ma was here. It was her favorite thing to do on Sundays.”
“I see. Sounds lovely.”
“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want. Might be cold later.” Lily eyed Anna carefully.
Anna wasn’t sure if she was hoping she stayed out or not. “I’m sure it’ll be lovely.”
“That’s enough now, Lily. Pa will light it.” Fred smiled at Lily and then at Anna. “We’re having a corn night!”
“So your sister tells me. Should I go and wake up Rose?” Anna didn’t want her to sleep too long and not be able to sleep later.
“I’ll go.” Lily jumped up and ran off.
“Mind you’re gentle,” Fred called after her, then spoke to Anna. “Lily can be a little excited at times.”
“She has a lot of natural energy and a good imagination.”
He nodded and smiled.
“What about you, Fred? What do you like to do?”
He shrugged. “Not much really. I don’t get time.”
“If you had time, what would make you happiest? I’d like to tailor some school lessons to interests you have. It’s easier to learn when you enjoy it.”
“Ma and I always read books. I haven’t had any new ones since she… for a while.”
“Ah, a library. Great idea. Perhaps you can help me to set up a borrowing system and categorize the books. Do you have a favorite author?”
“Charles Dickens so far, and Mark Twain. I’d like to write a book myself one day.”
“Are you good at writing?”
“In my mind, I am. On paper, not so good yet.” Fred frowned.
“I’ll be sure to get you lots of practice with writing, then. I’d love to read your stories.”
His face lit up with his cheeky smile again. William was back now, laden with corn.
Anna smiled at him. “I hope everyone’s hungry. Now, what do I need to bring out from the kitchen?”
“We have butter and salt, some napkins, and some plates to hold it all.” William put the corn down in the large box that was on the ground.
“How about dessert?” Anna had an idea she could make some syrup dumplings in the large cast iron dish with a lid, and sit it beside the fire to cook. They’d gotten some fresh cream as a wedding gift.
“Can you do something?” William dug some matches out of his pocket and lit the dry twigs and leaves. They roared into flames and Fred slowly added smaller cut sticks, graduating to larger ones.
“I can. If there’s room after the corn is cooked, I can sit the cast iron dish on the coals, perhaps.”
“Good idea. Let’s do it.” William smiled at her and she smiled back. Anna had a warm feeling inside and out; she liked it here, and she hoped everything worked out.
“I’ll go prepare dessert and get the things you need for the corn. We had a ham given to us as well, should I slice some and bring a pan?”
“Fried ham and roasted corn sounds perfect.” William knelt down and prodded the fire a little, and the burning wood dropped lower into the grate. “I’ll go see what the girls are doing. Fred, you keep the wood on the fire. We need plenty of hot coals.”
“I’ll go grab what we need from the kitchen.” Anna really couldn’t think of a better way to finish off her wedding day. She’d always loved the outdoors and longed to come to the country to live.
Hope was a more rustic place than she’d imagined, but there was something exciting about building things up from scratch and it was a feeling she could get used to. If the Lord saw fit for a man to love her and she to love him back, it would be someone like William she’d want. Someone who took challenges and made a success from them.
Anna had done that her whole life and though people were careful to shelter her from the worst of the world because of her birthmark, it was the mark that made her the tough, resilient, forthright person she now was. No one was perfect, and she’d much rather have a blemish that was so noticeable for all to see than to hide a blackness inside.
Anna loved humanity and, most of all, she loved youth. Children represented all the knowledge in the world waiting to be soaked up and reinvented. Children were the future and they’d be the ones to make the changes needed. Anna loved how she could be the person who helped them unlock their imaginations, and find what they were good at.
Once you were good at something, the rest followed. With confidence came daring and with daring came the ability to conquer fear. Anna went inside and began to gather all the things she’d need; last of all she began to cut some thicker slabs of ham and placed them on a plate.
She made the dumplings and had the syrup mix ready to pour over; she’d come back and get that as soon as the corn and ham were underway. She’d have to clean the mess before bedtime, but she was sure it’d be worth it. She was ready to take her basket of food and plates outside.
“How dare you!” William’s angry but quiet voice shot out from behind her.
She turned to him and the anger in his eyes was unmistakeable, but they shone with unshed tears as well.
“We’re not even married twenty-four hours and already you’re defying me.”
“Defying you?” Anna kept her words calm and clear, but not loud. “I wasn’t under the impression that you were my owner.”
“Don’t twist my words. You know what I’m talking about.”
“I do not. If I’m to be scolded like a child, then at least do me the honor to explain why.”
“I put those pictures away for good reason.”
Ah, the family photos.
“If I’d wanted them in the children’s rooms or anywhere else in the house, I’d put them there myself.” William glared at her.
“I didn’t do it for you. I did it for the children.”
“I know what’s best for my children.”
“No. You can’t deal with her memory or the pain of losing her, and you refuse to let your children grieve for her as well because it hurts you.”
“That’s not true. We’ve grieved. It’s time to get on with life.” William ran his hand through his light, wavy hair. His voice was measured and still not loud, but the anger was still there and directed at Anna.
“So get on with it, and let the children share in her memory.” Anna was angry as well now, but she was also feeling his pain. “She’s their mother. They’re children. You can’t regiment your whole life like an army camp and think hiding pain is dealing with it.”
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do.”
“And yet you seem to think you can do exactly that with me.” Anna glared right back at him now. “Perhaps we’ve misunderstood each other and this marriage is a mistake.” Anna shook her head. Maybe this was only an unachievable dream.
“I brought you here as a support to me, not to run my life as you saw fit.”
Anna
’s anger flared, but she maintained her temper. She’d learned that losing her temper never helped. “I came here to be a family with you and the children. They’re hurting. You must see that. I’m not leaving again; I’ve made my commitment to you, and to the children, in the eyes of God. I won’t break that promise.”
He looked at her with something in his eyes other than anger; curiosity perhaps, or disbelief. “I wasn’t asking you to leave. Just leave the past in the past where it belongs.”
“It doesn’t belong there for the children, and you’re being selfish. I will discuss her with them and I will let them see the photos.”
“The girls are in there crying. I don’t know what to say to them.”
“You don’t have to say anything. You can’t control everything. Just let them cry. It’s sad. Let them be sad, then show them that life is still there to be enjoyed.”
“Enjoyed! That’s the exact type of naivety I’m trying to spare them. You can’t tell me life had been enjoyable for you growing up with…” He stopped short and looked at her.
“With my ugliness? With such a disfigurement? With the curse God bestowed on me?” Anna turned away from him now.
“Anna, I’m sorry. I –”
“There’s people a lot worse off than me. I’m not letting this birthmark, or anything else I can’t control, turn me into a negative person. It’s made me strong. It’s made me seek a better world. It’s brought me the darkest times but that led to me finding God, and understanding what he wanted for me. To teach and show children they don’t have to all be the same to learn and succeed.” Anna picked up her basket and headed for the door.
“Are you still doing the corn and ham by the fire?” William sounded surprised, and there was no anger or frustration left in his voice now.
“The children are looking forward to their first corn night since their mother has died. After six months of them having to tiptoe around you, I’m not letting them down. You can please yourself.”
* * *
7
Strength
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“Children? Are you here to
meet me?… “You’re not our Ma.”
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William watched Anna stride out the door with her full basket, and he felt foolish for coming out here like he did. He’d seen the girls looking at the photos and crying and it’d just been too hard. Perhaps he thought a blemished lady such as Anna would be easier to bend to his will.
Maybe he thought that’s what he wanted, someone who’d comply because she was just grateful a man would marry her. He now realized that Anna hadn’t come here because she was desperate to marry him, or any other man. She’d come here to be a teacher, and to build a school, and a future for the children of this settlement.
She was strong and steadfast. She was opinionated and stubborn. Words many people used to describe him. It was he that had to earn her respect, if he wanted it. If he wanted a real marriage and not just a convenience. Should he open his heart again? Could he? More to the point, would Anna want that? After his performance just then, she must think him to have no feelings or emotions.
It was safer that way. If he let himself feel anything, and she loved the school here, and what she’d built up, and the children, she’d never leave. And he had to leave when Hope became a proper town and was all set up and done. There was no future here for him, just terrible memories of the most pain he’d ever had in his life.
A sorrow that’d brought him to his knees. He didn’t ever want to feel that again. He had to stick to what he knew, the only way he could keep a lid on all the emotions. Be the army officer he was trained to be. But still, it was high time they roasted corn again. He could see the children were very excited about it.
He went back outside to see the three laughing children and Anna telling a story which he couldn’t hear. He braced himself and walked over to them to place the piece of wire over the fire grate for the corn to sit on. The coals were just right. “Good job, Fred. Let’s get some corn on here.”
He and Fred put the ears of corn on, husks and all, and they began to turn brown but not burn black on the outside. “Perfect.” William smiled at them all and wondered how long it had been since he’d given them a genuine smile and not barked orders at them. He was torn. The order and discipline were what’d gotten them this far.
“What do we drink?” Anna asked.
“Hot cocoa,” the children all chimed together.
“Do we have any cocoa powder?” William asked Anna. “Perhaps some came in a wedding gift basket.”
“I’ll need to go and have a look. There’s so many things and I’ve only unpacked the things that would spoil the fastest.”
“We can do that after dinner. The children can have some water for now.” William tried to make everything right again, but he could tell something inside Anna had changed after his outburst. It was like she’d resigned herself to stay, but not for him.
That was the way he’d wanted it, wasn’t it? The way he’d imagined it all along. No emotional ties. Now he had that and he should be happy. He was happy, only now he thought Anna wasn’t, and that bothered him more than a little.
He’d known the woman for two days and argued with her for most of that. It should be easy to stay personally removed from her.
William let the flames lick around the corn husks; the smoky flavour was delicious. Once he had all thirty cobs over the coals, Anna cooked the thick ham slices in the large frypan. The smell made his belly rumble and the children all sat and watched the flames in silence.
Anna had the dishes out they would use to eat from and she handed thick napkins to everyone, because the melted butter would be messy but fun. With the hot cobs buttered, salted and peppered, they all munched into the rich sweetness of the home-grown corn. William had forgotten how wonderful this was.
“I’ve never tasted anything so good. Mrs. Chaplin really knows how to cure a ham. It’s all delicious.” Anna’s face glowed in the firelight as it wasn’t quite dark yet, but night was falling fast. Her eyes reflected the flames and William found it hard to take his eyes off her.
The children grinned with shiny faces from the butter and bits of yellow corn in their teeth. William could see now how much they’d missed it and yet they didn’t seem sad at all. When he’d found the girls holding the photos and crying, he’d wanted to punch the wall. It simply wasn’t fair that they’d all had to lose Laura.
He didn’t know what to say to them. It made him feel inadequate and awkward, which went against the grain of who he was. He faced death every day and it never scared him or made him feel weak. An experienced army man such as himself could never be weak. Not in any way. It simply wasn’t done. Emotions were weakness and that got you hurt. He didn’t want that again.
But this…all this with the children, and wondering how he’d raise them alone, knowing he’d never bring to them what their mother had, that was a different kind of fear. The kind of fear that crept up at night into his mind when he should be sleeping. The kind of fear that never shut off; it was always there, simmering in the background of his mind.
The past two nights he’d slept soundly. He’d put that down to the good food in his belly and the fact that he could relax somewhat after supper. But what if it was Anna making him feel relaxed? What if God was sending him exactly what he needed? Maybe he just had to stop being too stubborn to see it.
He shook the thought out of his head. He’d made an agreement with her. She didn’t want him, she wanted the teacher’s job. He’d do well to remind himself of that each time crazy thoughts came into his head. Besides, she wasn't looking for man with the regimented outlook he had.
Anna seemed to have no care for his wishes at all; despite him explaining the way things were, she still went ahead and did just what she wanted. He may not always be right, but he knew that the army discipline way wa
s best.
Life was easier to handle when things ran according to a plan, and that was how he liked it. He wasn’t an impulsive person and he didn’t intend to change that anytime soon.
* * *
Anna sensed some confusion in William and she thought he was thinking about the photographs again. She’d overstepped his boundaries, but she did it for the children, and she’d do it again. She excused herself to go and get the dumplings to cook for dessert.
Tomorrow she’d get to help build the foundations for her school and she’d be meeting the other children. They’d join her each day for half a day, so she could see what subjects to offer other than reading, writing and arithmetic. Also she’d be trying to offer new ways to learn through things the children enjoyed.
Anna was sure there’d be resistance to this innovative way of teaching, but she hoped that when the children were successful, that would convince parents she was on the right track with their education. Picking up the cast iron dish by its wire handle, she lugged it back outside and sat it over the hot coals. “I’m looking forward to tomorrow and thinking about setting up my school.”
“I can tell you are. I’m glad I can help out.” William smiled at her.
“I want the best school in Idaho.”
“That’s a huge dream.” William leaned back against the fence post.
“I think I can do it. I’m not leaving here until I do.”
“You might be here a while.”
“Don’t you think the unfortunate lady with the awful face can do it?” Anna wasn’t sure why she said that; she guessed she really wanted to know what he thought about the way she looked. It’d never bothered her before what anyone thought, not in her adult life anyway.
“You don’t have an awful face, and I think you can do whatever you set your mind to. No reason why you can’t out here. I just meant that Hope is small, and it might take a while to attract the right people to invest to make your school bigger.”
