by Laura Best
Now Flora was curled up alongside Pru, sleeping, and Davey was lying on the floor, his legs tangled into a tight ball, his hands folded with his head resting on them. How peaceful they look, thought Pru. It was Jesse’s turn to sleep now. He was propped up against the chesterfield in an uncomfortable-looking position with the shotgun lying across his lap. Pru had promised she’d keep the first watch, as she hadn’t felt at all sleepy and her mind was filled with all the things she imagined might happen to them. All she could think of was protecting her family and keeping them from harm’s way.
Things quieted down outside just before dark. The police officers returned to their car to sit and wait and Mr. Dixon positioned himself in the back seat of their cruiser. Davey asked what would happen next, but neither Jesse nor Pru could answer his question.
“Don’t let the law take us away,” Flora said, looking up at Jesse with tears in her eyes.
Jesse rubbed the top of Flora’s head. “Don’t you worry. I’ll think of something.”
As much as she wanted to believe it, Pru was not at all sure that Jesse would be able to think up a plan to get them out of this mess.
Pru feared the candles would not last the night and was almost certain they wouldn’t until something Mama had shown her came into her mind. Careful not to make any noise and wake her brothers and sister, she lit another candle and went to the kitchen to get the lard kettle. Pru scooped up some of the lard and placed it in a saucer then added a strip off one of the cup towels, leaving a portion of the cotton rag sticking out for a wick. She did the same with another saucer, pleased that she was able to remember so many of the things Mama had shown her before she died. When Pru came back to the living room, Jesse was wide awake, looking at her.
“Where did you go?” he whispered.
“To make some light,” she said. “The candles won’t last all night.”
“You should have woken me,” he scolded. “You can’t go running off like that. I didn’t know what to think.”
Jesse lit the makeshift candles and although they did not give off a great deal of light they still helped illuminate the room. Pru could see that Jesse was pleased with what she’d done, even though he did not give her any words of praise. They spent the remainder of the night listening to the sounds of the after hours, the peepers and crickets and a lone bird whose song seemed out of place in the middle of the night. Still, it chirruped with self-confidence, a sweet melodic tune, as if it did not know that night had fallen.
Pru must have dozed off, for she was suddenly wakened by the sound of car doors slamming. Sunlight was extending its slender fingers into every corner of the living room, filling it with a soft radiance. Pru saw Jesse standing at the window with the shotgun still clutched in his hands.
“They’re on their way,” he said, moving toward the door. He positioned one hand on the latch and held the other fast to the shotgun. He opened the door a crack and a small stream of fresh air blew into the living room.
“I’ve got a whole box of shells. Don’t come any closer or I’ll shoot us. I’ll shoot us all! Do you want some kids’ blood on your hands?” Jesse’s voice echoed loud in the clean morning air. The policemen looked at each other.
“Don’t do anything you’ll regret, son,” one police officer hollered out. “We want to get your brother and sisters out safe. We’ll back off. Just don’t shoot.”
Pru pulled on Jesse’s arm, desperation threatening to overpower her. They couldn’t just sit there and wait for the police to come in shooting. They had to do something. Surely there was some way out of this.
Jesse closed the door and turned back toward Pru. “What are we going to do?” he asked.
“Tell them we’ll talk to Reese Buchanan. If anyone can get us out of this, Reese can. Please, Jesse, someone could get hurt. We can’t just sit here forever. We’ve got no other choice,” implored Pru. Jesse pondered her suggestion for a few moments before nodding in agreement.
Opening the door a small crack, Jesse took a deep breath. “Bring us Reese Buchanan.”
“Reese Buchanan?” one of the officers shouted in a questioning tone, as if he was confused over Jesse’s sud–den demand.
“Just do it!” shouted Jesse through the crack in the door. “We won’t talk to no one but Reese.”
“Fine, we’ll bring Reese Buchanan,” came the reply. Relief washed over Pru.
“Mr. Dixon’s leaving. He must be going for Reese,” said Jesse. There was hope in his voice.
Then from the floor came Flora’s soft sobs. She sat hunched into a ball with her face buried into her hands. “Is Jesse going to kill us?” she managed to ask Pru.
“Jesse wouldn’t hurt a hair on your pretty little head,” Pru said. “But the police don’t know that. He’s just trying to make them go away. See, they’re leaving.” Pru collected Flora in her arms and stroked her hair the way she’d seen Mama do countless times.
“That’s right,” Davey cooed. “He’s just telling the police that. It’s like pretend.”
“I wish he wouldn’t pretend,” Flora sniffed. “It’s scary.” “We’re all scared,” said Pru, wishing that this nightmare was over, that they were out pulling weeds in the garden, just like before Mr. Dixon showed up at their door.
“They’re going back to their car,” Jesse announced, as if it was his job to keep them all informed as to every movement, every activity from outside.
“Pru, I’m hungry,” Flora said, tugging on her sister’s dress.
Pru sliced some bread, spread it with a layer of lard, and then sprinkled it with salt the way they did before Mama started getting her welfare check. There was little else she could make without a fire to cook it, and there was no wood in the woodbox since Jesse only brought in enough wood for cooking these warm June days. Pru set the plate of bread on the floor and three sets of fingers each grabbed a slice. The remaining piece was intended for Pru, but she did not think she could manage to force it down, even though her stomach ached with hunger. If only Mama was here, she’d know what to do, Pru thought. But if Mama was here they wouldn’t have been in this mess in the first place.
“What does that busybody want?” asked Jesse as Mrs. McFarland arrived. She marched past the police officers and stood halfway between the house and the road.
“Pru…Pru Burbidge! This is Emily McFarland,” came Mrs. McFarland’s sharp voice. “Come out of the house this instant!” She waited for a response. “You don’t want to be breaking the law. Just come out and we’ll settle this thing once and for all.”
Pru did not know what to say and so she said nothing. Receiving no response, Mrs. McFarland turned and walked back to where the policemen and Mr. Dixon were standing. Every so often Pru could hear Mrs. McFarland’s voice strike a loud cord. She was upset and excited, as Pru could well make out, even though she could not hear exactly what Mrs. McFarland was saying. Finally Mrs. McFarland marched out to the clearing again, resting her hands on her plump, oversized hips.
“Pru and Jesse Burbidge, I command you to come out!” she shouted, waving her hands in the air. Her order, how–ever, was met with more silence.
Command! Pru might have laughed were it not for the gravity of the situation they were in. Just where did Mrs. McFarland think she got off by commanding anything of her? Pru was not some genie who had been rubbed from a lamp to grant her three wishes, and were she to listen to anybody in this world it most certainly wouldn’t be Emily McFarland.
Mrs. McFarland continued to coax the children from the house using any means she could think of. She promised treats and a hot meal, even a slab of chocolate cake that she said she would produce the second they came out. Finally, in one last-ditch effort, she started marching toward the house yelling out that their mother, God rest her soul, would not approve of such actions. She kept going on until one of the police offers ran out and all but dragged her back to the police car. He opened the door and made for Mrs. McFarland to go sit in the car. After she got in, he closed the door be
hind her.
“That’s one out of the way,” said Jesse with a small laugh that angered Pru.
“This isn’t a game, Jesse,” she said in a serious tone.
Chapter Sixteen
“He’s here!” Jesse shouted as Reese’s car pulled up beside the road. There was no mistaking the sound of relief in his voice. Davey and Flora flocked to the window. Although Jesse sounded excited to see their old friend, a part of Pru wondered what difference Reese’s presence might make. Still, she had to admit it was good to know that there was someone out there on their side.
“He’s talking to the police. I wonder what he’s saying?” said Davey.
“He’s probably giving them what for,” said Jesse.
“Now he’s coming toward the house,” said Davey, motioning for Pru to come look as well.
“Will Reese help us?” Flora asked. Pru could not give her an answer. Would Reese be able to help them, indeed? As Pru watched him close in on the house, that slight limp of his fairly noticeable even from a distance, she felt a surge of hope. About ten feet from the doorstep, Reese stopped and called out to Jesse. Pru tried to run out the door and tell Reese to fix all this, but Jesse caught her and held her fast so that she was not able to break away.
“No, Pru!” Jesse whispered. “We wait to see what he has to say. This could be a trap.”
A trap? Reese wouldn’t do anything to trap us, she wanted to say. “But it’s Reese,” she said instead, hoping Jesse would come to his senses.
“He could be the enemy,” said Jesse.
Enemy? Had Jesse lost his mind?
“It’s time you came out, Jesse,” said Reese, more serious now than Pru had ever heard him before. “You might just as well know you can’t beat the law.”
“They’ll take us away!” yelled Jesse, opening the door a crack.
“Come out and we’ll talk. See what they have to say. I don’t want any of you getting hurt.” Pru could not see Reese through the small crack but welcomed the familiar sound of his voice.
“No!” came Jesse’s cold reply.
“Reese?” Flora moved toward the door and spoke through the small space.
“Yes, Flora?” Reese moved a bit closer to the house and bent forward so that he could hear Flora’s small voice.
“Are you going to help us?”
“You bet.”
“And Reese?”
“Yes, Flora?”
“The bread’s all gone and we’re hungry.”
“I’ll get you something to eat,” said Reese.
“Promise?” asked Flora “Promise…and Jesse,” Reese’s voice became hushed.
This time Jesse moved toward the open crack. “What is it, Reese?”
“I’ll get some food first. Things will look better on a full stomach. Then we’ll figure something out. We’re going to make this better somehow.”
In less than half an hour Reese returned with a plate of sandwiches and a jug of milk. He set the food outside the door while the policemen watched. Jesse opened the door only far enough to allow himself access to the food.
“You’ve got to come out sooner or later, Jesse,” Reese said the moment Jesse open the door. “We’ll work some–thing out.”
“They’ll send us to foster homes and you know it,” said Jesse, biting into a sandwich. Pru passed the sandwiches to Flora and Davey. Each of them grabbed one off the plate. She took one for herself, knowing she’d have to force it down to keep up her strength if for no other reason.
“I know you don’t have any more shells, Jesse,” Reese said finally.
“Are you going to tell them?”
Reese let out a sigh. “I don’t know. I just don’t know,” he said, pulling his fingers through his hair. Pru could see the anguish on Reese’s face. It was obvious to her that he was struggling between doing what was right by the law and what was right by them. It wasn’t fair for them to expect Reese to get them out of this jam. After all, he wasn’t even family. He was their neighbour and trusted friend, but still it wasn’t fair.
“What about Uncle Tom?” Pru whispered to Jesse. “What about Uncle Tom?” she repeated, shouting it out for Reese to hear.
Pru knew Jesse would be against asking Uncle Tom for his help, but Mama was right, none of what had happened with Uncle Tom in the past had anything to do with Jesse. Like it or not, she couldn’t let Jesse’s pride get in the way of a peaceful resolution.
“No!” barked Jesse. “We don’t need his help. Besides, he doesn’t even know us. Why would he want to help after all the things Daddy said to him?”
“We’ve got to do something. Do you think the police are just going to forget about us?” implored Pru. “Look, Jesse, you never gave Uncle Tom a chance. You burned the letter Mama wrote. People can’t help if they don’t know.” “Fine then!” let out Jesse, banging his fist several times into the wall as he stepped back from the door.
“Jesse, we have no other choice,” said Pru, trying to console her brother. “At least it’s something. Maybe he won’t come, but at least we will have tried.”
Pru looked out at Reese and said, “I think it’s our only chance. At least he’s family. They might listen to him.”
“I think you’re right,” agreed Reese. Jesse remained silent while Pru and Reese discussed what would happen next.
“I’ll tell you what,” said Reese finally. “I’ll go to Annapolis, see if I can persuade Tom to come.”
“I still don’t like it,” interrupted Jesse.
“Have you got a better idea?” Pru asked. Jesse just shook his head.
“Now, it’s going to take me a while to get down there and back,” Reese continued. “While I’m gone, Jesse, I don’t want you to try anything. Just stay put. I’ll tell the police the same. You all just wait. And Jesse, I’m counting on you to keep everyone safe.”
“I understand,” said Jesse grimly, as if he’d been given instructions on some life and death situation, which might very well have been the case. For the first time since their ordeal began, Pru could see some resolution in sight.
The morning dragged into afternoon. Pru set all her hopes and expectations on Reese’s return. In fact, she centred her mind on seeing his car come down over the hill. But where was he? Why was it taking him so long to return? Perhaps Jesse was right that Uncle Tom wouldn’t help.
Pru tried not to let her apprehension show. It would only cause the younger ones to worry. She had to be as strong as Gran Hannah, just like she’d been when Mama was sick.
Davey and Flora complained of boredom until Pru interested them in a game of go fish. “I’ve never played cards on the floor before,” said Davey, as if he’d been allotted some grand privilege.
“It won’t hurt this once,” said Pru, shuffling the deck. She passed the cards around and set the pack in the middle of the floor between the three of them. It was difficult to concentrate on the game and Pru would get up every so often to look out the window. Even with the distraction of playing cards, Flora and Davey grew impatient.
“How long do we have to stay in here?” Davey asked.
“We’re waiting for Reese to come back,” was all Pru could say.
Chapter Seventeen
Then came the reverend, wearing his white collar. Along with him were the neighbours from down the road and a bunch of people Pru did not know. The sun had crossed the sky. Soon it would be nearing suppertime.
“God is with you,” the reverend called out, kissing the cross he wore around his neck on a chain. “I will pray for your safety.” Pru could see him inviting a small group of people to one side. She saw them bow their heads. This can’t be good, she thought, not when the minister is called in to say prayers.
Mr. Hurley, who owned the general store, walked out of the crowd holding out a small brown paper bag and called out to them, “Come out for a candy.” People began to gather on the near side of the maple trees, and as the afternoon went by more continued to arrive. Every so often someone from the crowd
would shout out to Pru or Jesse, thinking he or she might be able to lure them out. While some came and left, others remained.
“They must think we’re a bunch of stupid kids,” said Jesse. “But we’re not giving up that easy. We’ll show them who’s boss.”
Pru became more uneasy. How would they ever get themselves out of this? She could not tell Jesse that if he had not been there she would have surrendered long before this; she would have run out the moment she saw Reese Buchanan’s car pull up.
As it neared time for supper, Flora and Davey began complaining of hunger once again. The sandwiches Reese had brought earlier were long gone. There was nothing else in the house to be had that didn’t require cooking.
“I don’t have anything to give them,” Pru told Jesse, looking at him in hope that he would know what to do. “We’ll starve,” she said. Flora began to whine.
“We’re not going to starve,” Jesse said matter-of-factly. “You don’t starve in a few hours. Aren’t there any preserves in the cellar?”
Of course! Pru had completely forgotten. There was applesauce and some blueberries and maybe even a few jars of rhubarb sauce, all things that Pru had sealed away in jars last year. “Jesse, you’re a genius!” she exclaimed, hurrying toward the kitchen.
Pru stood above the hatch leading down cellar. It was darker than night down there, cold and damp even during the middle of summer. The air was heavy and stale and the cellar was most surely home to any number of spiders and bugs. But as unpleasant as the cellar was, it was a necessity. It served the purpose of keeping their food cool, especially during the warmer months.
On one wall of the cellar were shelves that held the preserves Pru had put down last year, and in one spot a large flat stone was set into the dirt floor—this was where they placed their pickled beans and cucumbers. One area of the cellar was only partially dug out, and this was where the potatoes were stored over winter. The cool damp earth kept them crisp long into spring. Sometimes when the fall rains came, the cellar would flood, and so several layers of old boards had been placed on the floor over the years to keep things dry. The boards had been lying there for so long that they had begun to decay and this added to the already damp, musty smell.
