It was nice to be with someone who didn’t feel the need to fill every minute with conversation. Somehow, sitting in this peaceful place, our uncomfortable silence had become strangely comfortable. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed this feeling and it made me miss my Dad something awful. How odd that in this place and time, Daniel would be the person to fill that void for me. Daniel, who I wasn’t even sure I should be off in the woods alone with. Yet here we sat in comfortable silence like old friends instead of what we really were.
A few minutes later he got up and anxiously stalked around the rock towards the far side of the clearing. After a moment of staring off into the woods again, he turned back to me with a strange little smile. It was almost a shy little boy smile. How quickly his moods seemed to change.
“I’ve got a spot picked out for lunch. It’s not too far down river. I bet you’re still hungry.
He was right. Even after my granola bar, I could feel my stomach rumble under the constant sound of the falls in my ears.
Reluctantly getting off my warm rock, I followed him along the river bank for a while until he veered off into the forest. We’d walked for about half an hour when it occurred to me that I knew virtually nothing about the man I was following through the woods. There were so many questions I wanted to ask him, but I was hesitant to open my mouth. Did I really want to know what secrets he might be hiding? Was it just my usual curiosity? I had a feeling I should just keep my questions to myself and let it lie. What was the point in emotionally investing in such a closed person? It wasn’t like we were going to become friends or anything.
Then quickly forgetting the logic of my own thoughts, I heard myself ask “So I hear you live with the Professor.”
“Yes, I do,” he answered without pausing his stride or looking over his shoulder. I waited a beat, but he didn’t elaborate further.
“How long have you known him?”
“A very long time.”
I could see this wasn’t going to be easy.
“Where are you from?”
“All over really. We’ve moved around a lot.”
“What about your family? Where do they live?”
He didn’t answer right away, like he was trying to come up with a good answer.
“My family are all dead now. I’m the only one left.”
“Oh,” I said. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It was a long time ago.” His voice was cold, almost detached.
His whole family? I wondered what could possibly have happened that they were all dead now.
We walked on again in silence for a few minutes.
“When I heard you lived together, I wondered if you were somehow related to the Professor.”
“Biologically? No, but he sort of adopted me I guess you could say. He’s not my father, but I think of him that way.”
He stopped like he was going to continue his thought, but thought better of it. Figuring I’d gotten about as much out of him as I was going to for the moment, I let it drop.
After a while we came upon an open field at the base of the valley. There were no tall trees here except two or three stray ones like lone sentinels standing amongst a sea of tall grasses gently swaying in the breeze like billowing waves.
“Watch out for fox holes” he said as we started into the field. “Here in the tall grass, you won’t see them until you’re on top of them.”
“Where are the foxes?” I asked, horrified that I was seconds from having a foot bitten off. I sped up and was now walking close to his side.
He smiled. “Don’t worry, there aren’t any around right now.”
“Then where are they?”
He paused for a moment and said “They’re hiding.”
“If it’s a case of they’re more scared of me than I am of them; I can assure them, they’re wrong,” I said assuredly.
He smiled and shook his head a little.
“Maybe you’re not the one they’re scared of.”
Just then we approached an old rock wall that seemed to dissect the field and run off into the grasses as far as I could see in either direction.
Daniel walked up and vaulted over it with no problem. Stopping on the other side, he turned back towards me with a wary eye. I approached the wall with some trepidation only because I figured if I were a fox, I’d probably dig my burrow in the shelter of the base of the wall. I paused on my side and closely inspected the rickety old wall for stability before attempting to traverse it. Deciding to give it a shot, I looked up. After a pause, Daniel hesitantly offered me his arm as if he was wondering if I’d accept it. Taking it, I swung one leg over the wall and then the other. His arm felt muscular under his sleeve, and even though I was sweating now that we were no longer in the shade of the forest, he didn’t appear to be perspiring at all. He looked … perfect.
Of course he looks fresh as a daisy I thought to myself. He’s the best looking man you’ve ever seen. How could he ever not look this way?
As we got farther into the field, I spotted what looked like the remains of a few structures.
“Did there used to be a farm here?” I asked curiously.
“Yes – a long time ago. Over there is where the barn was.” He pointed off to the right. “And over there is what remains of the house,” he said, his voice suddenly sounding sad as he pointed off in the opposite direction.
“Can we go take a look?” I asked, indicating toward the position of the house.
“If you like.”
His voice was laced with a sadness now that I didn’t understand. What could be so sad about a field and a few half gone wooden beams sticking out of the ground?
The area surrounding the remains of the house was nothing but barren dirt now. Only part of a large stone fireplace remained along with a few scattered stones and rotted pieces of wood that suggested the outline of the exterior walls.
As I walked around the perimeter, I tried to reconstruct the house in my imagination.
“I wonder who lived here,” I mused aloud
“Farmers… I guess.”
“They seem to have settled pretty far from town.”
“That wasn’t unusual back then. They were probably some of the early white settlers in this valley. Sometimes, if you don’t want to have problems with neighbors, it’s best not to have any nearby. And if they were friendly with the local natives, all the better.”
“You sound like you know a lot about it.”
He turned and smiled my way with that smile that melted my spine.
“History teacher. Remember?”
Then he shepherded me over to a shady spot under a nearby tree where I took a seat and pulled out one of my sandwiches for lunch. I was starving. Daniel dropped down on the ground beside me but didn’t produce anything to eat.
“Are you hungry?” I asked. “I have an extra sandwich if you’d like one.”
“That’s kind of you, but no.”
“Well, if you change your mind, it will still be there. I packed an extra one just in case.”
“In case of what? In case I left you alone in the woods to find your way out by yourself?” He smiled an arch smile.
“It’s in my nature to be as prepared for all possible eventualities,” I replied trying to appear impassive. If only he understood the true depth and breadth of that sentence.
“Smart girl. So, you’ve asked me a lot of questions today. Can I ask you some now?”
“Sure,” I answered, taking a bite of my sandwich and wondering what he could possibly want to know about me.
He looked me over for a long moment as if searching for words to form the questions in his head.
“Where were you born?”
All that and this is the best he can do?
“Port Jefferson. That’s out on Long Island.”
“Yes, I’ve heard of it. Did you grow up there?”
“No. We live in Wading River, a small town about twenty minutes east of there.”
“Who is
we?”
“My family. My parents and myself.”
“Do you have any siblings?”
“Yes, an older brother, but he moved out and lives with his wife and kids in Connecticut now.”
I took another bite of my sandwich followed by a handful of chips I’d brought along.
“So you’re a freshman?”
“Yes, – but I sort of took a year off so I’m actually a little older than most of the rest of my class.”
“Why did you take a year off?”
“I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life – career wise.”
“And now you know?”
“No.”
“But you decided to start school anyway?”
“Well, I wasn’t finding any answers at home. I figured maybe a change of scenery would help. More life experience.”
“Probably true,” he replied as he stroked his chin with his long fingers. He was looking at me as if sizing me up for something. The question was, what?
While he continued to nonverbally appraise me, I finished what remained of my sandwich, then stowed the empty containers away in my backpack.
“Shall we continue?” Daniel asked as he stood.
“Where are we off to now? Aren’t you hungry? You didn’t eat anything.”
“No, I had a big breakfast.”
It was obvious he was lying, but I had no idea why. Deciding I should probably try not to care, I let it drop.
“It’s time to start back, but I want to make a little detour on the way. There’s something I think you might like to see.”
Normally I’d have asked what, but at this point I strangely trusted him enough not to.
We walked back across the field only to take a different route up into the hills that wasn’t quite as steep as the way down had been.
“So how long has genealogy been a hobby of yours?”
“About ten years or so. I had to do a family tree as an elementary school project in social studies one year and got hooked.”
“What kind of information have you been able to learn about your family’s history?”
“Lots of stuff. They’re a pretty interesting bunch. Mostly European. Lots of German, English, Irish, Slovakian.”
“A mutt huh?”
“I prefer to think of myself more as a melting pot, but that works as well.”
“Donnelly. That’s Irish isn’t it?”
“Yes, but I’m more German than anything. Both of my grandmother’s families were mainly German. I’ve been able to trace the families over to Germany. I even have distant cousins that I’ve become friendly with that live in Bavaria. I’m hoping to be able to visit them someday. Those sides of the family are my more recent immigrant ancestors. My maternal grandfather’s family is the old American branch of the family. They came to America back in the 1600’s and have lived in the same area of Rhode Island ever since. My mom was born there. – I’ll stop now. I could go on for hours, but people’s eyes tend to glass over when I start talking about my fifth and sixth cousins.”
“I don’t mind,” he said as he kept walking ahead of me. “I find it interesting.”
We had never stopped walking, we’d just been chatting as I continued steadily behind him. Every now and then he’d glance over his shoulder to check on me, but other than that, we soldiered on.
“It’s nice that the younger generation has an interest in their personal histories. So much is lost over time. We all think our lives are so important, that who we are and how we lived will never be forgotten. But the truth is much different. One day you die, and once that happens the memory of who you were starts to fade until one day no one remembers what your face looked like. Then no one remembers you at all because everyone you ever knew is dead as well. Perhaps a stray letter you once wrote is tucked into an old desk drawer in some forgotten attic. But will anyone ever find it?”
“That’s really depressing.”
He stopped and turned to face me.
“I suppose it is.” He smiled in spite of himself then continued up the hill.
“So teaching – is that what you ultimately want to do with your life?” I asked, looking to change the subject.
“Well, maybe. I suppose I haven’t figured out what I want to be when I grow up either. But it will do for now.”
Again, he’d found a way to avoid answering my question.
When we reached the crest of the hill, it leveled off for a while. There wasn’t much low brush in this area. The trees formed such a thick canopy of leaves over our heads, that when the breeze blew strong enough, it caused the leaves to flutter down on us like confetti.
“We’re almost there,” he said, as he turned to smile over his shoulder at me. It gave me pause to wonder … were we becoming friends? I’ll be honest and say I wasn’t sure I wanted to be. Something about him still made me uncomfortable, uneasy even when he flashed those incredible baby blues at me.
Five minutes later we came across an old picket fence in the middle of a small clearing of trees. Inside the enclosure was a neatly kept cemetery containing about ten or fifteen headstones. There was a little gate at the front, and as we approached he opened it allowing me to enter first.
“Wow,” I said quietly. “How did you know about this place?”
“Well, it’s been here for a long time.”
I walked from stone to stone examining the carvings. They were beautifully done. Simple, but higher quality than one would have expected for such an isolated area. From their immaculate condition, I could tell they’d been dutifully looked after for a long period of time.
“Any idea who they are?”
“A family … I assume. There are a lot with the same names.”
“I wonder if they knew the people who lived on that farm.” I mused aloud, but he didn’t answer.
I walked up to the largest, best preserved stone to read the inscription.
Sophronia Hood
Beloved Wife and Mother, Gone but Never Forgotten
1824 – 1899
1 Thessalonians 4:13-17
“Sophronia, what a great name,” I said. “I’m amazed these stones aren’t more weather beaten. I wonder who’s been coming up here and looking after them.”
Daniel paused for a few moments then said “Our house isn’t terribly far from here. We’re on our land, so the Professor and I make sure it stays in good condition. He feels that when you own the land, you take on the position of caretaker of these sorts of things.”
“You own this land?”
“Yes. Our house is about a mile or two in that direction,” and he pointed off into the woods.
“I thought you only moved here a few years ago. You seem to know the area pretty well for having lived here for such a short period of time.”
He looked a little taken aback, like I’d figured out something he clearly hadn’t meant to give away.
“We built the house a couple of years ago, but we’ve owned the land a lot longer. You must be getting tired. We’ve been out here a long time now. I think we should be getting back to the car.”
Without another word, he opened the gate for me and Sensing he wanted to get rid of me, I strode past him in the direction he indicated to go.
I’d walked for a few moments before I realized I didn’t hear his footsteps crunching in the leaves behind me. Stopping, I turned around just in time to see him place his hand on top of Sophronia’s stone. He eyes wore a sad expression, like a lost little boy. He mouthed something as he patted the stone softly. A slight breeze blew at that moment and I would have sworn what he said sounded like I love you something, but the breeze carried only a fraction of the sound necessary to make it out exactly.
What was that other word?
He turned, quickly closing the gate behind him and without looking my way, walked straight past me and took the lead.
Sophronia Hood. I was going to have to look her up on line when I got home. Her and her family were a good mystery and I could n
ever resist a genealogical challenge.
A few minutes later I reached around and pulled my backpack open as we walked, and taking out a small notepad and pencil, I made some notes of the names and dates I remembered off the stones.
When I finished, I swung the bag back over my shoulder with enough force to accidentally knock myself off balance. I wobbled for a moment on the rocky uneven ground and then went down hard. Of course I hit the ground on the crest of a ridge we’d been following, and unable to stop myself, started to tumble down the embankment. Unfortunately, the hill was too steep for me to arrest my momentum once I got started. I tried to grab some passing trees as I bounced off of them, but wasn’t able to get a hold of them before I was angrily pulled down by the unyielding force of gravity. Tumbling head over heels, I could feel my body painfully making impact with jagged rocks along the way and prayed I wasn’t going to be dead before I finally came to a stop.
Suddenly I felt a sharp pain in my ankle and then I stopped. My eyes were closed. I wasn’t sure I could open them. What would I see when I did?
“Sara! Are you alright? Open your eyes!”
I could feel Daniel beside me on the ground. As if obeying his command, my eyes fluttered open as he gently began to pull leaves out from around my face and hair.
“Say something!”
“What happened?” I murmured.
“You fell down the hill, you Dummy! Why did you do that?”
I looked up and saw the incline I’d come down. It was a near vertical drop here at the bottom.
“Well, I guess it was faster,” I mumbled not really intending to be funny.
“You idiot!” he smiled. “You went the wrong direction if that was what you wanted to accomplish.” He was trying to laugh, but was obviously still concerned I’d hurt myself.
“Can you sit up?”
I did, but could feel the spots where the rocks had impacted my torso. I could also feel a lump rising on my forehead where an oak tree had made its distinct impression.
The Purity of Blood: Volume I Page 10
