Furnace Mountain: or The Day President Roosevelt Came to Town

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Furnace Mountain: or The Day President Roosevelt Came to Town Page 22

by Rebecca Patrick-Howard


  “I’ll go get the chair for you.”

  Alice let herself into the storeroom and was soon pushing out the beautiful chair her father had made. Even Mr. Lewis, whom Alice thought had probably seen something of everything, let out a low whistle and appeared suitably impressed.

  “Now that’s a real beauty,” he said. Before taking any pictures, he slowly walked around it, studying the fine details and craftsmanship.

  Alice stood back and watched him, once again proud of her father. He was working with the men again today. They were at the depot, putting the finishing touches on the details. That had always been her father’s favorite part–doing the little things.

  She was disappointed, however, that Nicholas had not come with his father. She mentioned him now. “I reckon Nicholas is busy getting ready to leave?”

  “Oh yes,” his father answered as he began taking his shots. “All of the little last-minute details to do. As you can imagine, our house is a flurry of activity tonight.”

  “Tonight?” Alice was taken aback by his words. “What’s going on tonight?”

  Mr. Lewis had been kneeling on the floor. He rose to his feet now, wincing as his joints popped, and shrugged. “Well, he is leaving in the morning so–“

  “In the morning!” Alice cried. She thought he was staying until September. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, in a great sense of irony, Nicholas will be leaving on the very train that is bringing the president to us,” Mr. Lewis laughed.

  Alice was stunned. “But why so soon? Surely his classes don’t begin for another month?”

  “They start in three weeks,” he agreed, “but he wanted to arrive early, to settle into the place. His mother and I agreed. Nicholas has never been on his own. It will be good for him to feel settled before he begins concentrating on his studies.”

  When Louella returned from lunch, she found Alice sitting in the wheelchair her father had made, staring at her hands.

  ***

  Marianne was surprised to see Ruth standing on the other side of her door. “Come in,” she offered. “Please come sit.”

  Ruth thanked her and entered the small house that had come with the teaching position. “I love your home,” she said. She spoke shyly, stilted. Marianne could see her guest was nervous. “It’s very comfortable.”

  “Thank you,” Marianne replied. She was polite but had few ideas as for how to proceed. The last time she’d been with Ruth, the other woman had screamed at her and said some terrible things. She’d looked like a wild woman. Now she was smartly dressed, well-groomed, and carrying what looked like a cookie tin.

  “Sam and I baked you some chocolate chip cookies,” she said, offering Marianne the tin. “I ate one myself. They’re quite good. Sam is becoming a good cook.”

  Marianne nodded and thanked her.

  After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Ruth finally addressed the elephant in the room. “I am sorry about last time. You reached out as a friend, and you had every right to think we’d started a friendship, and I was terrible to you. I have no excuses for that. I have no excuses for any of my behavior. I wish I could say something to take it all back, to make things better, but I can’t. All I can do is move forward, and hope you’ll move forward with me.” Ruth reached out and grasped Marianne’s.

  There were things Marianne wanted to tell her. She wanted to confess that while she knew Ruth was sick, she’d cut into a nerve with her. She wanted to lecture her for all the times Sam had come to school hungry or exhausted from taking on adult responsibilities he had no business having. She wanted to tell her that a part of her was jealous, that she, Marianne had deserved Homer Dyer for herself. That it wasn’t fair that he’d turned his eyes to the town recluse–a woman so sick she couldn’t even leave her own bedroom.

  But Marianne said none of these things. Instead, she reached out and wrapped her arms around the other woman. Marianne as lonely and this woman was offering friendship. If things were going to be better, they had to stop expecting the changes to fall into their laps–they had to be the change themselves.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  SAM AWOKE BEFORE DAYBREAK.

  His heart pounding in his chest, he jumped from his bed and ran through the house in his nightclothes, the morning still damp in the air. He flung open his front door with glee and hopped onto the porch.

  The sun was just starting to jut up over Furnace Mountain. It was hazy yet; the fog clung to his valley like a thick coverlet. Sam took in a deep breath, bringing the moisture into him. It all smelled so new, so clean.

  He was surprised to hear the footsteps behind him. When he turned, his mother stood in the doorway. “Couldn’t sleep?” she smiled.

  He shook his head.

  Ruth joined him and, together, they watched as the black sky slowly turned blue, then purple, then orange. The last of the lightning bugs shot past them, its lighter shooting off and on one more time.

  “Day feels different don’t it Mama?” he asked quietly.

  Ruth put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “It sure does,” she agreed.

  Sam took another deep breath, feeling like his heart might burst.

  The day felt alive.

  ***

  Nicholas looked in the mirror one last time and ran the comb through his hair again. He felt fine that morning. He could hear his mother and father downstairs, scurrying around the kitchen and parlor, getting things ready.

  Sighing, Nicholas turned and looked at his bedroom one more time. His books were lined neatly on the little shelf under his window. The rocks, tree limbs, and birds’ nests he’d gathered over the years were on a shelf by his bed–a shelf his father had brought home from the paper’s office. His quilt, the one made by his grandmother over in Four Tree, was neatly made on his bed. Everything looked exactly the same.

  Nicholas, however, was not the same.

  He was no longer the little boy that had run through the creek with Alice, getting his feet muddy and the bottom of his britches wet. He wasn’t the little boy that had won all the birthday party and carnival games because he took the time to measure distances and really count things out. He wasn’t the little boy that had listened to Miss Casteel, and his teacher before then, while others threw paper and chalk at each other. He wasn’t the little boy that thought Furnace Mountain was the most wonderful place in the world.

  He didn’t know when it had happened, but it had. Nicholas, as he’d known himself, was gone. He didn’t take the time to grieve–he was too excited for what lay ahead.

  ***

  Marianne Casteel stood on her porch and listened to the people as they made their way to the tracks. She could hear them now, even though it would be hours before the president’s train arrived. Today was the day, the last day, that she’d see her little schoolhouse.

  There would be no more school in Furnace Mountain. They’d thought and hoped that the consolidation might just take another year. With the tragedy of the fire, however, they’d just moved up the inevitable; the children of Furnace Mountain would be sent to Four Tree.

  And Marianne would be going with them.

  A small house in the center of town had been offered. She’d accepted the new position, as well as the house, and would be moving that next morning. She didn’t have many belongings to take with her, of course. Just a few suitcases and an old trunk that had belonged to her father.

  There was sadness, of course, and grief. For now, however, she simply stood on her porch and enjoyed the view while she still lived in her little town.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  THE PRESIDENT’S TRAIN would not arrive for another hour, but the crowd of onlookers was already thick. Alice and her father could hardly move through the masses of people.

  “Hold onto me, Daddy,” she laughed as they made their way to the depot. “I don’t want to lose you!”

  Once they were safely inside, both exhaled deeply. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many people in one place at the same ti
me,” she swore.

  “Where’s the rest of the folk that’s meant to be here to help us?” Robert grumbled.

  “Homer is meant to be here now,” she replied. “Perhaps he just hasn’t been able to get through the people.”

  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Homer Dyer burst through the double doors. He stood in the depot’s shiny new lobby, his face flushed with pleasure. Ruth and Sam Walters tumbled in behind him.

  “Are we ready for this?” Alice laughed.

  “I would imagine so,” Louella answered primly. She glided down the staircase from the upper level, looking fresh and regal. Nothing fazed her.

  “Well, then let’s get this out to the platform,” Robert said. “No sense in waiting around all day.”

  The police had sectioned off the main platform on the second floor and stood guard over it now. The only ones allowed on it, other than the president and those accompanying him, would be Alice, Robert, Louella, Homer, Sam, Marianne, and Ruth. Passengers would be allowed to get off and on the train on the secondary platform, located below it. It was also cut off from the crowd at the moment. Alice felt herself scanning it, contemplating. It would be the platform in which Nicholas would board when it came time for him to leave. The platform in which he’d say goodbye to Furnace Mountain.

  It was all Alice could think about.

  Oh, why hadn’t she told him goodbye? Why hadn’t she spoken to him? She had the right to be angry, to be frustrated, but they were still friends. She did not have a right to release her disappointment and anger without giving him a reason. He would leave now, and might never return, and she’d truly lost him for good.

  “Are you okay Alice?” Louella regarded her with concern.

  Alice donned an imitation of her natural smile and nodded her head. “Just nerves I’m afraid.”

  “We all have them,” Homer assured her. “Trust me.” The others all nodded their heads in agreement.

  But not for the same reasons, she thought.

  The crowd was a living thing, a pulsating organism. When Alice and the rest of the group stepped out onto the platform, its energy took her aback. She hadn’t expected the cheers or the anticipation to be so palpable she could taste it.

  “Only an hour left,” Sam whispered to her. “Just an hour. He’s on his way.”

  Alice swallowed hard and nodded.

  Just one more hour.

  “Ladies and gentleman,” Homer addressed the crowd. It was difficult to believe that, just a few months ago, he’d had trouble speaking in front of an audience.

  “In approximately one hour, the President of the United States, and the First Lady, will be stopping right here in Furnace Mountain. As many of you know, we’ve managed to make a lot of changes to our little town in these short few months. One of those changes is the revitalized train depot behind me. Once the president leaves, we’ll all be able to go inside and christen the new building. In addition to acting as a train station, it will also be our community center and a small museum showing the fascinating history that has made Furnace Mountain what it is today.”

  The cheers were deafening. Young Sam stepped backwards and hid behind Homer. His mother covered his ears with her hands.

  “I’d also like to introduce you to one of our very talented artists. Mr. Robert Johnson has created a magnificent chair for Mr. Roosevelt–a fine piece of craftsmanship that’s fit for a king.”

  As the chair was rolled forwards, the audience let out a collective gasp.

  “Robert, would you like to say a few words?”

  Alice leaned forward and gave her father a hug of encouragement. What people saw today of her father’s work, and what he said to the onlookers, could change the rest of their lives for the better. It could mean a new shop, a new business, the clearing of their debts…

  With nothing short of grim determination, Robert stepped forward and began to speak.

  Chapter Forty-One

  THE PRESIDENT WOULD ARRIVE in just half an hour. Homer was shaking, either from excitement, nerves, or the copious amounts of Louella’s coffee he’d consumed.

  He’d spent the morning in his office. The meeting with Hartside Morgan. The representatives had been cordial, even pleasant. Homer’d shown them the money they’d raised, the article in the newspaper about the successful festival they’d put on. Showed them the train depot, the main street they’d done their best to restore.

  “In short,” he’d declared, once he’d finished his tour, “we take our future seriously. We have storefronts ready for shops, we have a new community center ready for events and meetings, and we have a town full of citizens that are willing and able to work hard and provide. You won’t find better anywhere else.”

  The townsfolk of Furnace Mountain had looked forward to the president’s impending arrival. He was going to save them; his visit was going to put them on the map, make people care about them again–bring opportunities.

  In the end, they’d done all the hard work themselves.

  “Ladies and gentleman,” Homer once again spoke to the crowd before him. “I have another announcement to make. As some of you are aware, I met with the executives from Hartside Morgan this morning. They are opening a new factory and are looking for a new building site. Furnace Mountain made their short list. We’ve worked diligently to prove to the company that we are open and ready for business. We here in Furnace Mountain realize the magnitude of such a decision and what it would mean for us. It could be life changing for many; it would be life changing for the town itself.”

  His words received a healthy round of applause as the people watched on in hopeful anticipation.

  “We know that we are the best location for their site,” Homer declared. He paused, took stock of the expectant faces, and then finished, “And they agree.”

  As the implication of his words sank in, the crowd went wild. He watched as strangers turned to one another and embraced, as husbands turned to wives and offered passionate kisses normally saved for private moments, as little children jumped up and down with glee–only knowing that something important was happening.

  Homer, feeling tears in his eyes, turned and looked at the people standing him. Ruth stood back, a soft smile on her face. Her arms were wrapped around Sam’s shoulders. Sam offered Homer a thumb’s up sign. He went to them then and clasped them both. With Ruth in one arm and her son in the other, there was no place else he wanted to be.

  Chapter Forty-two

  THE ENGINE COULD BE HEARD a mile away. First one person in the crowd caught wind of the sound, and then another and then another. Soon, they were all shouting in anticipation. The president was coming, the president was coming! Ruth stood back and watched the eager onlookers. They crowded the platform in an attempt to get closer, roaring as the train grew nearer and nearer.

  Sam, whose body had been pressed tightly against hers for the past hour, suddenly untangled himself from her arms and moved away. He scrambled to stand next to Homer. She smiled as Homer looked down at her son and took his hand. Together, her men waited for the train to come to its slow stop in front of them.

  Ruth felt the panic begin to rise. She’d tried to push it down all morning, and had mostly succeeded, but now she couldn’t. She wanted to cry out, to scream at the top of her lungs.

  But she wouldn’t ruin everyone else’s moment. Instead, she hurriedly let herself back inside the building. From there, she could see the secondary platform through the glass-paned doors.

  The train came to a screeching halt. She could hear little else for the cheers. The poor befuddled passengers debarking the train found themselves surrounded by a horde of people. Ruth laughed in spite of herself. She watched as the passengers quickly collected themselves and sought an exit.

  Ruth started to turn away, to collect herself in a darker corner of the depot, when something caught her eye. It was the shock of auburn hair, so much like her own. The broad shoulders, the stocky build.

  On the other side of the glass,
not five feet away, Jonathan stood on the platform, his broken suitcase in hand.

  Ruth thought she was seeing a ghost. But ghosts weren’t for the living–he was alive!

  “Jonathan!” she cried with all her might. “Jonathan!”

  Ruth ran to the door and tried to open it, but it stuck. She threw her hands on the glass doors, beating at them with both fists. Outside, the President of the United States was on the platform, addressing the residents and visitors of Furnace Mountain. He was shaking the mayor’s hand, having his picture taken for the newspaper. The event would be recorded for U.S. History classes.

  All Ruth Walters cared about was that her eldest son was on the other side of the door and couldn’t hear or see her.

  Perhaps it was her flurry of movements that caught his eye, or maybe it was just luck that had him looking her way. Suddenly, however, he was standing right before her. Their hands reached for each other through the glass. Ruth cried. When Jonathan gave one last shove from the outside, the door flung inwards, sending Ruth tumbling to the floor.

  “Mama!” he cried, rushing to her side.

  And while the rest of the world was watching what was going on upstairs, Ruth sat downstairs and rocked her oldest baby back and forth. He was home.

  Chapter Forty-three

  “YOU TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF, son, you hear?” Nicholas had not known his father to be an emotional man, but here he was, tearing up.

  “I’ll be fine, I promise,” he reassured him. Then Nicholas turned to his mother. “It will be alright.”

  She gave a cursory sniff but her eyes were wide with elation. “Did you see him, Nicholas? Did you? The President of the United States, right here in our town!”

  “I saw him,” Nicholas laughed.

  He carried two suitcases and a small bag to use on the train. He stood on the smaller of the two platforms now and kept them at his feet. It was so crowded he could barely keep his balance. The train would be leaving in just a few minutes; he didn’t have much time.

 

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