by Leisha Kelly
“Yes, George,” Dad told him patiently. “There won’t be any problems. Mr. Mueller’ll be by to check on them before long.”
“I hope he remembers to get ’em fresh water if it’s froze up. Surely is by now.”
“He’ll remember. They’d be all right till morning anyhow. They’ve been through plenty of cold nights before this.”
“Not without us close. I don’t like bein’ away so long.”
Dad sighed, but he didn’t bother to say anything more.
Mr. Hammond didn’t say anything else the whole way either. I thought the way he looked might bother Lizbeth when she saw him tonight. He was walking stiff like he had been the last few days, though he wouldn’t say there was anything wrong even when my mother asked him. He didn’t try to clean himself up very well lately, either. It seemed to me that he wasn’t thinking like he should or he wouldn’t keep asking about the cows. He’d known for days how we were going to do things tonight. I figured Lizbeth would worry. But Rorey didn’t even seem to notice.
“We’re not running late, are we?”
“What’s the matter?” Willy teased her. “You ’fraid Lester’ll leave ’fore you get there?”
“I just wanna be there for the first dance.”
Harry rolled his eyes really funny at her, and I tried not to laugh at him.
“Are you gonna dance with anybody, Harry?” Emma Grace asked innocently.
“Are you kiddin’?” he answered, making quite a face. “There ain’t a girl in this county to look twice at.”
“You just don’t know how to look,” Robert said solemnly, and Willy nodded.
“You’re all young enough, you don’t need to concern yourself with that kind of thing tonight,” Mom told them. “We’ll just have a good time with friends and then get some sleep. Tomorrow’s a big day.”
I looked at her when she said it. I wondered if she was a little sad, but nobody could tell it in her voice or on her face. I knew she’d miss Robert. How could she not? But she acted like everything was just fine. I thought my mother must be one of the strongest people in the world not to be showing her feelings about this.
The wind was getting colder. It seemed to pierce right through my coat, and I knew there was a threat of more snow. But that didn’t stop folks from coming out. A lot of people were already gathered at the community hall. We saw Charlie and Millie Hunter and a couple of other friends from church on their way in. And then I saw three of the Turrey boys by the front door. I don’t know why, but I looked for Frank’s reaction instead of Rorey’s, but he didn’t even seem to notice.
Emma Grace eased closer beside me again. “Am I too young to dance tonight?” she asked in a whisper.
“Not for fun. Especially with your pa or your brothers. But you’re for sure too young to think much on other boys.”
“What about you? Is there a boy you think about?”
“Tonight I just want to think about the ones that are leaving. They might be gone a long time.”
“Robert’s a good big brother,” Emmie affirmed with a nod. She hesitated for just a moment. “I guess Willy is too.”
I thought for a minute about the way she’d said that. Willy could sure give people a hard time when he felt like it, especially his younger brothers and sisters. So Emmie was speaking generously. And I thought I’d share something to make her feel better about him. “I’ve heard that with some brothers, the more they love you, the more they tease.”
“Then he must love us a whole lot,” she replied in a quiet voice.
“Yeah,” I acknowledged, not sure what else to say.
While we were talking, Rorey started waving like crazy, hurrying toward Lester.
“People love more than they let on sometimes,” I told Emmie. “We just need to make sure we let ’em know how we feel before they go.”
“I will, Sarah,” Emmie said, looking at me kind of straight. “Are you worried?”
“I don’t know. I guess not. I guess God’s with us all the time, so there’s nothing to be worried about.”
Eugene Turrey was waving at me, but I ignored him. Lester and Rorey went inside holding hands right in front of everybody. I wondered if Robert would be bold enough to do that with Rachel Gray.
The inside of the community hall was all decorated with streamers. A big table was set up at one end where Mom and Mrs. Jones took the cakes we’d brought. The Porters were using the same giant punch bowl that Lizbeth had borrowed for her wedding. That bowl was such a pretty thing, and there were pitchers and pails of punch under the table—enough to keep it full many times over.
Everybody took their coats and hats and things off and set them in the area marked for them with a cardboard sign. Then I just went and sat in a chair, watching people hugging here and there. I thought of the friends and brothers going away, and I didn’t feel like talking to anybody.
The music started, and it was slow and pretty. Elmer McKay and his friends from Mcleansboro were playing. Rorey told me once that they knew hundreds of songs. They could play just about anything anybody could think of.
“Wanna dance, pumpkin?” I looked up and saw my father’s smile. He was looking playful and serious all at the same time.
“Okay, I guess,” I told him. I didn’t really feel like it right then, but I couldn’t tell him no.
“Everything’ll be all right, Sarah,” he said. “Robert and William are strong and smart.”
“Doesn’t it bother you?” I dared ask him. “Even a little? They’ll be so far away.”
“Sure it does. Quite a bit if I get to thinking about it. But they’re doing their duty. I’d be doing the same thing if I were younger. We can pray. Every day. And write too. That’ll help.”
We went kind of slow across the dance floor. I just held my daddy, glad he wasn’t younger and it wasn’t him going. It’d been bad enough, the times we’d almost lost him—once when he broke through the pond ice, and then in that awful fire. I couldn’t picture loving anybody more than I loved my father. Maybe right then was the first time I realized that if I ever got to thinking on a boy, that boy would have to be an awful lot like him.
Not too many other folks were dancing yet. Lester and Rorey were, of course. They seemed to want everybody to know how much they thought of each other. I guess it shouldn’t have aggravated me so, but it did.
But then I saw my brother Robert dancing with Emma Grace. That made me smile. Robert was like Dad. A real good man. He’d been a tease when we were younger. But not in a bad way. My eyes filled with tears just thinking about the things we’d heard on the radio, and Robert maybe going across the ocean to face hateful men who didn’t care how many people they hurt. It made my gut ache. And even though I usually liked dancing with Daddy, I was glad when the song ended.
Someone said the snow had started again. And I hoped it snowed so hard the train couldn’t come.
3
Frank
The place was fillin’ up with people. I sat over in the corner with Pastor Jones. That was the best place for me, where I could watch most everything goin’ on. ’Course, Rorey was still with Lester. I didn’t figure they’d turn loose a’ one another the whole night. Willy danced with a Mueller girl, and Robert switched and danced with his mama while Mr. Wortham give Kate a turn. Sarah Jean left the dance floor with Emma Grace and went and got some punch.
“Anybody you have in mind to dance with?” the pastor asked me all of a sudden.
“No, sir.”
“Want some punch then?”
“No, sir.”
Pastor was quiet a minute. “You know,” he finally told me, “I realize there’ll be some changes for your family with William away for a while. Do you suppose your father’ll need some extra help?”
“He’s still got me an’ Harry an’ Bert. An’ Mr. Wortham. We’ll manage all right.”
“Mr. Wortham will have more to shoulder without Robert around. And I hear you’ve got a lot of work of your own in the wood shop. How
’s that been?”
“Mrs. Chafey wants a step stool. An’ I’m makin’ a hope chest for Pearl Daugherty. There ain’t so much right now. Be good if there was more, ’cause we could use the cash. But we’ll make it fine.”
I looked over to the table where the pastor’s wife was helpin’ Mrs. Porter cut the cakes. Lizbeth and Ben come in the door about then, and I was glad to see them. Looked like they’d brought some snowflakes in on their shoulders.
“Do you still give the money you earn to your father, Frank?” Pastor was asking.
I turned my head his way, not sure why he’d inquire on somethin’ like that, especially when I wasn’t keen on talking right then. But he was the pastor. I figured he had a reason. “No, sir, I don’t. Not direct, at least. Mostly I just buy what’s needed.”
“A lot of working young men would be saving for their futures, if they have any way they can manage it. To get a place to settle down and start a family of their own.” “I got no special plans ’side from the business.”
“I know that, Frank, and I don’t mean to imply that you should.”
“You meanin’ somethin’ else particular then?” I asked him straight out. The pastor and me had a pretty good understandin’ by now, and we could talk about most anythin’.
“It just seems that most of your money’s going to your family. Or to the church. I thought I’d mention that you have a right to set aside some.”
I shook my head. “Couldn’t much do that an’ see my brothers an’ sisters do without.”
The pastor frowned. “I thought your father was doing a little better with things on the farm.”
“He ain’t doin’ better with his money. But I’m not meaning nothin’ against him.”
Truth was, Pa drank away some of the farm money. Not all of it, thank the Lord, and I wasn’t anxious to talk about Pa’s drinkin’. I’d told the pastor about it one time, but it only made Pa sore at me. He did better for a while after the pastor talked to him. But then later he took the drinkin’ back up, just like all the other times, when he figured nobody’d know. This time he was hidin’ it as good as he knew how. I didn’t think anybody knew for sure he’d started up again ’cept me an’ Willy. An’ Willy’d told me to leave him alone about it. Just help him with things and let it go. He said there weren’t nothin’ else we could do. But it didn’t seem right to hide things from the pastor if he was asking.
“You think it would help if I talk to him again?” Pastor said with a sigh.
“No, sir.”
“Why not?”
“’Cause Pa’s headstrong,” I tried to explain. “He wants what he wants. Ain’t no convincin’ him what he don’t want. It’s just the way he is. He ain’t gonna change.” I shook my head at myself talking so much. But maybe it needed to be said, at least to Pastor Jones.
“Any man can change with the Lord’s help,” he told me.
“Sure. If he wants it,” I agreed. “But Pa don’t. He wants to lose his thinkin’ in a bottle a’ Buck Fraley’s brew now and then. But it ain’t so bad as it could be, Pastor. ’Least he’s got it about him to hide it from Emma Grace an’ the rest. He don’t get drunk ’less he’s alone, an’ he ain’t been hurtin’ nobody but hisself.”
Pastor give another long sigh. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“Well, it don’t seem to do no good to talk at him over it. Prayin’s the only thing I know to do.”
“Then you wouldn’t mind me praying on this a bit?” “No, sir. I wouldn’t never mind that.” I rose to my feet, knowing I’d given my pa cause to be sore at me again. Pa had respect for the pastor most of the time, but he didn’t much like me bein’ so straight-out honest with him. “I b’lieve I best go an’ greet Lizbeth over there.”
Pastor nodded. “Does Mr. Wortham know your father’s drinking again?”
“No, sir. ’Least I don’t think so. It ain’t come up in our conversation.”
“Maybe you should tell him, so he can keep an eye on things.”
“He keeps an eye on things anyhow. He’s always bein’ a help. An’ he’s likely to find out sooner or later.”
“I think it’d be better for him to know sooner, don’t you?”
“I don’t know. The Word says true love covers a multitude a’ sins. Don’t seem right to go to him against my pa. I only told you ’cause you’re the pastor an’ I figured you’d keep on askin’ me things.”
“I would think Mr. Wortham would ask about it.”
“He does. Sometimes. So maybe he sees more’n I know. But I just tell him we’re all right ’cause God’s got his hand on us. I know it’s true.”
“Frank, just the same—I think I ought to talk to Mr. Wortham and maybe your father too. It’s not a time for him to be separating himself with a bottle. He’s got three sons in the service. Your younger brothers and sisters are bound to miss them and be very worried for them. They’ll need stability from him at home all the more.”
I just nodded my head. I didn’t know what else I could say. Pa’s ire would be stirred at me already once the pastor talked to him again. Not that that mattered so much. But I hated that Mr. Wortham might feel some kind of obligation to us in this. He’d been doing for us for so long I figured it ought to be enough by now.
I had a lot of mixed feelings right then. I walked away from the pastor, thinkin’ I oughta be able to take care a’ things at home and with the woodworkin’ too. Even without William. Even if Pa kept himself drunk and unavailable. Me an’ Harry an’ Bert, Rorey an’ Emma Grace could handle most anything, an’ there was always Lizbeth and Ben we could fetch, or Sam and Thelma, if we needed to. And Mr. and Mrs. Wortham, though they didn’t need to do anythin’ else for us.
But at the same time that I was thinkin’ all that, I was also wishin’ I could just get away. Go far across the ocean my own self and fight like a man oughta fight to defend the country he believes in. I’d wanted to be goin’ away tomorrow along with William and Robert. I didn’t care what Mrs. Wortham said, that we could see it a blessing for me to be turned away ’cause I was needed so bad right here at home. When I looked at it straight I knew she was probably right, but I still hated it to be this way. I hated that they were goin’ without me. I knew I should be grateful for stayin’, ’cause war’s a terrible thing. But I wasn’t grateful, even though I wasn’t sure why I wanted so bad to leave.
Crossing the community hall toward my sister an’ her family, I hated the limp that everybody could see even when I was tryin’ my hardest to hide it. I hated that I couldn’t read the forms an’ papers the recruiter’d had on his desk. I hated whatever reasons there was that made me like I am.
“You’re 4F, son.” That’s what the man had said. “You might as well go home and work hard at what you can.” I couldn’t remember questioning God like this before, not through any of the things that had happened in my life. I don’t know why that soldier’s words was so hard for me to take. I just wanted to bust back in there an’ tell him he was wrong. That I could work hard anywhere, just as hard as anybody else. That I was just as good as my brothers or anybody that ever walked through those doors.
It scared me how I’d felt on the way home that day— like yellin’ at God for makin’ me the way I was. I’d never been bothered like that before. I’d never blamed God for nothin’ before. And I still felt kinda angry and ashamed at the same time. Because I couldn’t shake the feelings, but I well knew the Scripture. So I figured I didn’t have no excuse. “O man, who art thou that repliest against God? Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, why hast thou made me thus?”
Lizbeth was lookin’ my way. I did my best to smile at her and Ben, and at little Mary Jane, who came runnin’ up to grab at my legs like she always does. I picked up the teeny little girl and twirled her, trying to choke down my bitter thoughts so she wouldn’t see her Uncle Franky frownin’. Mary Jane wasn’t but two and a half. And when you’re that age, life oughta be light.
“Everything okay, Fran
ky?” Lizbeth asked me right away. Lizbeth was like that. She could sniff out problems faster’n a coon dog. But I didn’t want to talk no more tonight. I’d done talked enough.
“Yeah,” I said ’cause I had to answer. “I’m all right. It’s just differ’nt for everybody, thinkin’ about Willy and Robert leavin’.”
“I know. I haven’t thought much on anythin’ else all day.”
She gave me a hug. An’ I hugged her back. In that, she was like Mrs. Wortham. There wasn’t nobody else in our family quite so much on huggin’.
“Rorey’s with that Turrey boy again,” Lizbeth said with a shake of her head. “I thought she learned her lesson a long time ago on that. What’s she see in him anyway?” “I couldn’t say.”
“He doesn’t still give you a hard time, does he?”
“I don’t reckon there’s time most days. Don’t see much of him.”
Mary Jane was tuggin’ at my hand now. Her smile was big as sunshine. “Ride Unca Fwanky?” she asked. “Up? Up?”
But Lizbeth shook her head right away. “We’re not out to the farm, Mary Jane. And I’m sure your Uncle Frank’s had a full day. It’s not the time to be gettin’ shoulder rides right now.”
I looked out at the dance floor. Rorey and Lester were doin’ some kinda steps I didn’t know the name of. Willy was with the Mueller girl again. Charlie and Millie were dancin’. And several other folks I knew. Pastor’d asked if I was gonna dance with anybody. I could almost laugh on that. Unless Emma Grace got the hankerin’, I didn’t expect nobody’d wanna dance with me.
“Don’t know why I couldn’t dance her around a little,” I said. “I ain’t doin’ nothin’ else.”
I lifted Mary Jane right on up like she wanted. Lizbeth give me a look that said, Are you sure? But I just smiled at her. Wouldn’t be nothin’ wrong with makin’ Mary Jane happy. I’d probably look like a fool dancin’ around, but when there’s a two-year-old on your shoulders, that’s all right.
Robert found his girl, Rachel Gray. They were talkin’ over against the wall. Oliver Mueller come in with his new wife, Elizabeth. They’d be havin’ a little one before long, that was plain to tell. Richard Pratt an’ his wife already had twins.
