Seasons of the Heart: Omnibus

by Janette Oke

  I got off the swing too and started back to the house.

  "I guess I'd better get back to the books;' I said defensively. "Only two more exams left."

  Willie grinned. "I know. You want to get a 99 again."

  I blushed.

  "Where's it taking you, josh?" asked Willie.

  "What?" I stopped and eyed Willie.

  "I shouldn't have asked it like that," continued Willie. "I didn't mean it to sound that way. I was just wondering if you knew something that you were holding back. Thought maybe you were trying for admittance in some super college where you needed great marks or somethin

  I shook my head. I hadn't even applied to any colleges.

  "You still don't know?"

  I shook my head again.

  "I'll keep praying for you, Josh;' Willie said, slapping my shoulder.

  "Thanks." I headed back to my bedroom and the open textbook.

  I envied Willie. He already knew exactly what God wanted for him. He had no problem figuring out what to do in order to prepare himself. He could just plunge right on, getting himself ready for the task.

  When graduation finally did arrive, I felt all strange. On the one hand I was excited about having completed high school. There were some awfully nice and embarrassing things said about me at the ceremony, too. I noticed Aunt Lou straighten in her chair and slightly lift little Sarah Jane so that she wouldn't miss any of the compliments. I could see the grins on the faces of Grandpa and Uncle Charlie, too. Grandpa was fairly busting his buttons. So I felt a measure of honest pride myself.

  On the other hand, I felt all empty inside. Here I was, finishing up my schooling without the faintest notion of what I was to do next with my life. As I already said, Willie was going off to train as a missionary; Camellia was going to New York; Janie and Charlotte were both setting out to be teachers; Avery was going to work with his pa; Polly was getting married-the list could go on and on. But Joshua Jones, head of the class, didn't have any idea of what he would do with all this education.

  I still felt all mixed up when we got back to Aunt Lou's and she served punch and cake in my honor to a number of friends and our family. She bustled around, chatting about me as she served, and Grandpa boasted some and Uncle Charlie just sat in the corner, quietly rubbing his knotted hands together as he grinned my way now and then. I could see, even then, that Uncle Charlie's hands were giving him pain again, but he, as was his way, didn't make any mention of the fact.

  Over and over the question of my plans came up. I brushed them aside with comments such as, I was still "sorting it through" or "looking at possibilities" or "waiting to make a decision:" Grandpa and Aunt Lou strengthened my position-"Lots of time;' they'd say, or, "Josh has too much at stake to decide hurriedly." It made it sound like I had all kinds of choices.

  In our private conversations they had already informed me that I shouldn't rush into deciding, should take my time and consider carefully the field that I wanted to pursue or the job that I would consider of interest, as God directed me. I knew that they were all still praying. I knew that they were all behind me, but I was quite sure that none of them knew just how much the question of the future weighed on my mind.

  "You can stay right here and find a job in town until you decide what God wants you to do;' Aunt Lou assured me. "We won't need the bedroom for Sarah Jane for a long time yet:'

  And I guess that was what everyone expected me to do. I had already had offers to work in the hardware store and the print shop. I was deeply thankful for the opportunity of choice but neither job really appealed to me.

  So this was my reception-my time of honor. People came and went, giving well-wishes and enjoying Aunt Lou's refreshments and the friendly conversation. There was talking and laughter and a great deal of commendation. I tried to be a part of it, but my eyes kept straying back to Uncle Charlie and his bent shoulders and gnarled hands.

  Suddenly something became very clear to me. As soon as I could, I excused myself and went to my room. I began to pack my few belongings into my duffle bag. It was spring. Planting time. I could see by Uncle Charlie's hands that he was in no shape to hold the reins. Grandpa would never be able to do all the planting alone. They needed me at the farm. The sorting out of my future could wait for now. I inwardly thanked God for putting it off for a while. We could work it out later, the two of us; but for right now I had a job to do.

  I hurried faster as I packed, the emptiness within me filling up with anticipation. I loved the farm. I'd plant this one crop before I moved on. There wasn't time now to get any other help for Grandpa, and he needed his crop. If I didn't help him, who would? Scripture did say, after all, that we are to honor our parents. Grandpa wasn't really my parent, but he was the only father I had ever known. I figured that was what God meant when He spoke the words.

  I sure would miss Aunt Lou and Uncle Nat, and I would dearly miss little Sarah, but I'd be nearby and able to see them often. God could have asked me to go to some far-off college or to a job in some distant town. Then I wouldn't get to see them at all. This was better-much better, for now. The decision felt right to me; and I had the impression that God approved of it. I was glad that I would have this extra time with family.

  It was quiet again when I came back out to the kitchen. Grandpa and Uncle Charlie were just getting ready to head for home. They looked a bit surprised to see me out of my Sunday suit and into my everyday clothes. They were even more surprised to see my duffle bag.

  "Mind if I throw my things in the wagon?" I asked. "I'll ride Chester."

  "Sure;' said Grandpa agreeably. "You plannin' on doin' some of yer sortin' out at the farm, eh?"

  "No sortin' to be done;' I answered him evenly. "At least not for the time being. Right now we got a crop to plant, and I aim to help"

  "But what about a job-the further education?" Grandpa puzzled.

  "We'll handle all of that when the time comes," I answered confidently. And the funny thing was, I felt confident. Uncle Nat had continually been trying to tell me that God would lead me. He would show me what I needed to know in plenty of time to do it. For me, right now, it was to help Grandpa and Uncle Charlie. That was all that I needed to know.

  There were expressions of surprise on the faces before me, but gradually, one by one, heads began to nod assent.

  "We're going to miss you;' Aunt Lou whispered as she moved close to me and let her hand linger on my arm.

  "That's the joy of it;" I said. "I'll be nearby. I'll need to come to town often. Got to check up on Sarah, you know." We all laughed a bit and the tension in the room relaxed.

  Grandpa and Uncle Nat helped me to load my things in Grandpa's wagon. I left nothing behind; I wanted no excuses for turning back. I went in to where Sarah was sleeping and gave her a little pat as I whispered a goodbye. Then I hugged Aunt Lou and Uncle Nat and scooped up Pixie.

  "You ride with Grandpa and Uncle Charlie;' I told her, and handed her to Uncle Charlie.

  "I'll be along shortly," I promised them. "I'm just going to drop around and thank Mr. Lewis and Mr. Trent for their job offers and tell them that I'm needed on the farm-for now."

  I don't know if I imagined it or not, but Grandpa seemed to walk with a lighter step and Uncle Charlie with a bit more straightness to his back as the two of them went toward the wagon.

  CHAPTER 6

  Farming

  Thoughts about my future sometimes tugged at me as I prepared the ground for seed and planted the crop that spring, but for the most part I enjoyed what I was doing.

  I had never had much to do with the planting before. Grandpa and Uncle Charlie had been in charge of that and I had been the chore-boy, but now the roles were reversed. Grandpa and I worked the fields and Uncle Charlie, in his own slow way, did the chores-at least most of them. I still did the milking, because Uncle Charlie found the job too difficult with his crippled hands.

  Uncle Charlie took care of the household duties, too. Cooking and cleaning didn't seem to bother him too
much, but scrubbing the weekly laundry sure did. I sometimes winced as I watched him trying to wring out a garment. That night, to get Grandpa alone I asked him to come with me to the barn to check old Mac's hoof. "What seems to be the trouble?" Grandpa asked, bending over to lift Mac's right front foot.

  "Oh, no trouble;" I quickly assured him. "I was just wondering if it should be trimmed just a bit more."

  Grandpa looked disgusted for a moment, but he quickly caught himself.

  "Boy, you are taking your farmin' serious, aren't you?" he commented. "Never seen anyone with so many questions."

  It was true. I had been asking a lot of questions. There were so many things that I didn't know about farming and planting, and I had to learn somehow. Grandpa and Uncle Charlie seemed to be my only source of knowledge.

  "That's not-not really what I wanted;' I began. "I wanted to talk to you, and I didn't know how to do it without Uncle Charlie-"

  'Anything you got to say to me you can say in front of Charlie;' Grandpa said firmly; I could tell by the tone of his voice that he wanted that straight right to begin with.

  "But it's about Uncle Charlie," I protested. "Doesn't seem right to talk about him right out:"

  "What about Charlie?" asked Grandpa cautiously. "Seems to me he does the best he can"

  "That's it exactly," I quickly pointed out. "He tries so hard, but some things are so-so difficult for him."

  "Like?" asked Grandpa.

  "Like wringing out those clothes."

  Grandpa thought on that. He too had seen Uncle Charlie struggling with the clothes.

  "Don't know what can be done about it," he said slowly and moved away from old Mac, slapping him playfully on his full rump as he did so. "Neither you nor I can take time to do the laundry when we're planting;" he went on.

  "I know, but-" I crossed to a wooden bucket and upended it to make myself a stool. "I've been thinking, and it seems that it might be the right time to get us some more modern equipment:"

  "Modern equipment?" Grandpa had always scorned anything that was too mechanized.

  "One of those new machines for washing clothes;" I hurried on. "They have a wringer thing that you just put the clothes through and turn the handle and they squeeze all of the water out from the cloth:"

  Grandpa knew all about washing machines. They had been around for a number of years. He had just felt that they were unnecessary-up 'til now.

  I waited. I had more sense than to press the issue. Grandpa stood there chewing on a straw and thinking.

  "Lou has one," I finally mentioned.

  "Lou needs one;" said Grandpa. "She's got all those white shirts and fancy dresses and dozens of diapers:"

  "Lou had a machine long before she had diapers to wash."

  "It works good?" Grandpa surprised me by asking.

  "Real good;' I answered. "I've used it myself. You just stand there-or even sit, and work the handle back and forth, and the agitator does the washin' of the clothes. Then when you've washed them long enough, you put them through the wringer and rinse them in the rinse tubs, wring them out again and you're done."

  Grandpa took the straw from his mouth and teased one of the barn cats with it. It batted and swatted, enjoying the fun but never able to hit that straw. Grandpa always moved it just a bit too soon.

  "I'll think about it, Boy," said Grandpa. "Might bear some looking into."

  That was as close to consent as I expected Grandpa to come to right off.

  There were other changes I felt needed to be made on the farm, but I reminded myself that it would be smarter to take them one at a time. For now the most important one seemed to be to get Uncle Charlie some help with that washing.

  We headed back to the house then, both of us studying the evening sky to see if we could read what kind of a day we would have on the morrow.

  "How's that east field coming?" Grandpa asked.

  "Should finish tomorrow," I answered, "if the weather holds."

  "Looks good;' said Grandpa, his eyes back to the sky. "We're getting the sowin' done in time. Should have a fair crop"

  When we reached the house Uncle Charlie was still puttering with the supper dishes.

  "How's Mac?" he asked.

  "Nothin' wrong with Mac," Grandpa answered easily. "Josh here did ask if his hoof needed a bit more trimmin. But it was really just a ruse"

  When Uncle Charlie looked up, I avoided his eyes and washed my hands so that I could wipe the dishes.

  "He was really worried about other things," went on Grandpa. "Hates to see you wringing out those clothes on washday. Thinks you need one of those fancy machines"

  I cringed. The way Grandpa was putting it, it sounded like I was making Uncle Charlie out to be some kind of sissy. I hadn't meant it that way at all, and if Uncle Charlie took it that way, he'd buck the whole idea.

  "I've thought about that myself," said Uncle Charlie slowly. "Watched Lou use hers. Seems like a sensible gadget"

  Grandpa just nodded like he wasn't surprised at all.

  "Josh says that it is," he informed Uncle Charlie. "Guess we should look into gettin' one. We got the money for it?"

  Now Grandpa had never concerned himself much with the day-to-day expenses of the farm and house. That was Uncle Charlie's job. You couldn't really say that he kept the books. There were no books involved, but Uncle Charlie always knew to the penny just where the financial matters of the household stood.

  "Guess we've got the money if we decide we want one;' he answered honestly. "Happen to have a bit extra right now. We had talked about adding some new hogs to the pen-"

  "That can wait;' said Grandpa.

  "Suppose we'd have enough to do both;" went on Uncle Charlie, "but hate to get too low just in case somethin' should happen to this year's crop. We get hail or anythin; and it might make it tight:'

  Uncle Charlie went on washing dishes and I began to dry them and place them back in the cupboard.

  "We don't want to be short," Grandpa said emphatically. "No sense doin' that. We can wait on those new hogs"

  In all my years of living at the farm I had never heard Grandpa and Uncle Charlie discussing finances as openly as they were now.

  "We've got what we laid aside for Josh;' went on Uncle Charlie. "Now that he's not heading right off to college-"

  But Grandpa interrupted him. "He still might go this fall, and we sure don't want to be short of funds. We'll just leave that right where it is for now."

  "We've got our savings-"

  "We're not touching a penny of that;' Grandpa said adamantly. "We worked hard to earn it and we sure aren't gonna go spend it."

  Uncle Charlie nodded in agreement. It was the first I had heard of savings, or of the money for my further schooling.

  "How much does one of those there machines cost?" asked Grandpa.

  "Dunno, said Uncle Charlie. "I'll check next time I'm in town"

  They seemed to have forgotten all about me. I dried the dishes and rattled them a bit as I put them back on the shelf. That didn't seem to work so I cleared my throat. They still ignored me.

  "If you find out that it's what you want, just go ahead and order one;' Grandpa was telling Uncle Charlie. Uncle Charlie nodded.

  "How long do you think it'll take to come?" Grandpa pulled back a kitchen chair and sat down, removing his work boots and pushing his feet into his slippers.

  "Dunno," said Uncle Charlie again.

  I cleared my throat again. I had been there when Uncle Nat had ordered the machine for Aunt Lou. I knew what he had paid and how long it had taken to come, too. But I wasn't being asked and I hated just to butt in.

  "Throat botherin' you, Boy?" asked Grandpa.

  I shook my head, feeling a bit annoyed and embarrassed.

  Uncle Charlie turned to me then.

  "Do you recollect what Nat paid for Lou's machine and how he went about choosin' it an' all?" he asked me.

  By the time I finished telling what I knew, Grandpa and Uncle Charlie had picked the make the
y wanted and decided that Uncle Charlie would head for town come morning and order himself a washing machine. I felt good about it as I headed up to bed. I had initiated one small change for improvement on the farm.

  CHAPTER 7

  More Decisions

  I was so busy that spring and summer I scarcely even got to town. If it hadn't been for Sundays, little Sarah Jane would have grown up without me even seeing her. As it was, she seemed bigger and stronger and a little more attentive each time I saw her.

  She soon learned to smile when she was talked to and to coo soft little bubbly noises. Soon she was content to lie there and talk. Her dark hair got lost somewhere, and when her new hair thickened and lengthened, it was a soft golden brown. Her eyes changed, too; they weren't as dark now and were showing definite blue.

  As Sarah was growing physically, Mary was developing spiritually. Willie still picked her up for church, but now he was bringing her ma along, too. Mary was really excited about that, and Mrs. Turley seemed to enjoy the church services.

  Willie was all excited about leaving in the fall for school. He kept getting letters telling him about the courses and what he was to bring, and every time he got one he'd rush right over and show it to me. He'd usually bring it out to the field where I was planting or cultivating or cutting hay.

  We kept talking about fishing but we never did get around to going. There was just so much to do that we never had time. When I finished one job I was already behind in taking on the next one. I hadn't realized that farming kept a man so busy.

  Grandpa said I should slow down a bit, but I kept seeing things that needed to be done. I hadn't been around long before I realized that some areas had been rather neglected in the last few years. I guess the farm had become too big a job for Grandpa and Uncle Charlie. I could remember a time when neither of them would have let such things go unattended.

  Aunt Lou and Uncle Nat were pretty busy with church affairs and didn't get out to the farm too often. One Friday night they joined us for supper, and Aunt Lou did the cooking. Boy, was it good, too. Uncle Charlie did his best, but his meals were mostly boiled potatoes and meat.