“How about a loan?” said John, Jr. “Daddy, you've got some banker friends who could help.”
“Nope, said his father. “Going to the bank is admitting defeat. We need to keep up appearances. Ain't nothing wrong here that anybody needs to know about except us.”
“Frank, if I had the money I would loan it to you myself,” said John, Jr. “What about you, Daddy?”
“I saw that train coming. My money is tied up in investments and cattle. Keep just enough in the bank to keep Ada happy.”
“That's it,” said Frank III.
“That's what?” said John. “I just told you I didn't have money to put into the orchard.”
“That's not what I'm talking about. You said, 'investments.' All my life I've heard about the esteemed Wissler name. If Strathmore Orchard Corporation went public wouldn't that get a lot of attention? Raise the capital you need through investors.”
Frank, Jr. stood up and walked to a window and looked out.
“I think your boy might be onto something, Frank,” said John. The only way to turn this thing around is a big dose of capital.”
“Don't know the first thing about investments. We've always depended on each other and having to answer to outsiders just doesn't feel right.”
“Even if the four of us kicked in some cash it wouldn't be enough to make a difference. I'm of the opinion that going public is the only viable option you have.”
“Don't know nothing about it.”
“But I do and I'm more than willing to help.”
“What would be involved in something like that?”
“First we'll get an attorney to draw up the papers. He'll submit the document to the state for approval and then we'll make an announcement in the major newspapers that Strathmore Orchard Corporation has gone public.”
“You think it will work?”
“Make it sound big. It's not about saving your tail. It's about expanding, growing, and a vision for the future. Best darned orchard in the Valley using the most modern farming methods to produce the best fruit known to man. Investors will be all over it.”
Frank, Jr. called for a vote and it was unanimous, Strathmore Farm and Orchard Corporation would go public. It was an aggressive move to which Frank, Jr. added, “It’ll either make us or break us.”
Letter from Heaven – September 23, 1918
On most days, Mable was an early riser but on this Monday morning she just lacked the motivation to get out of bed. The rain had finally subsided but after the events of the preceding day she was in no mood for the annoyingly bright morning sunshine. Her usual cheery disposition was being challenged by painful feelings that she couldn't identify.
Then came a gentle knock on her bedroom door and in walked her mother carrying a tray of food. “Breakfast. Time to rise and shine.”
Breakfast in bed was a rarity in the Shown household and reserved for special occasions and sick days. Mary Shown knew that Mable was going through a hard time and she needed some motherly words of encouragement.
“Pretty big letdown yesterday, huh.”
“Yes, mam.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“Been thinking about it all night. Maybe God is trying to tell me that Charlie is not the right one for me but what has bothered me more than anything is that he didn't show up.”
“The weather was terrible.”
“That's just it. If he cared about me like I care for him, he wouldn't have let a rain storm keep him away. I keep seeing Clyde and Esther Smith coming through the church door, barely able to walk, and soaking wet. Expect they're both pushing eighty. They made it. Why couldn't he?”
“No way of knowing but you will in due time. That's where faith comes in. God's got everything under control. You've just got to trust him.”
Mary sat with Mable a while longer while she ate her breakfast and as she was leaving the room, Pearl yelled from the bottom of the stairs. “Mail's here. Mable, you got a letter.”
Before Mary took her first step down the stairway Mable jumped in front of her, raced down the stairs, and grabbed the letter from Pearl's hand.
“What got into you?” said Pearl stunned by Mable's aggressive behavior. “Mama, Mable's acting all weird.”
Mary laughed as she walked down the stairs. “I think she just got some powerful medicine.”
Mable inspected the envelope examining every square inch.
“Aren't you going to open it?” asked Mary
“It's from Charlie. It looks too pretty to open.”
“For Pete's sake, Mable. It's just an envelope.” Mary pulled open the drawer of a small table in the parlor and pulled out a letter opener. “This will keep it nice and neat.”
Mable still hesitated.
“What's the problem now?”
“Are you going to stay here?”
“Oh, you want your privacy.”
“Please.”
Again Mary laughed at her daughter's excited behavior. “Have fun.”
Slowly and carefully Mable opened the envelope and pulled out the letter, unfolded it, and began to read.
“Dear Mable, got your letter. It was so nice to hear from you. Made my day. Glad you enjoyed the candy and that you found a good use for the box. Don't worry about what Pearl had to say. Didn't bother me a bit. Do you like poetry? I do. Here's a few words that made me think of you.
'O my Luve's like a red, red rose
“Oh, my gosh,” said Mable while holding the letter to her breast and then she read the poem again, and again. He called me his love. More excited than she thought humanly possible, Mable continued to read Charlie's letter.
“I loved the perfume in your letter. It was real nice. Do you like to travel? Don't think we ever talked about that. Maybe someday we could go to some faraway place like Egypt and see the pyramids.”
Charlie's letter was revealing a side of his personality of which she was unaware. Maybe the chocolates should have tipped her off. He was wildly romantic beyond anything that she had ever imagined and his desire for travel with her to distant lands, which had never crossed her mind, now seemed incredibly intriguing. But then she came to a part in the letter that gave her cause for concern.
“Come hell or high water I will see you in church on Sunday.”
What Sunday was he referring to? The one just passed or the one to come. “Surely the one to come,” she reasoned.
Upon reading the letter again, she decided that the use of “love” in the poem probably didn't mean that he was actually telling her that he loved her. After all, he closed his thoughts with “your best friend, Charlie.”
After reading the letter at least a half dozen more times, Mable carried it to her room and placed it in the chocolate box for safe keeping. Then she put on a coat and went outside and sat under the old oak tree where she thanked God for her letter from heaven.
The Last Straw – September 24, 1918
Ever since taking Russell Miller's job offer Charlie had worked feverishly to get things in order on his family farm. He planned to wait until the last possible minute to make his announcement because he knew that his father would immediately kick him off the property.
His mother had noticed something different about his behavior and asked his sisters if they had made a similar observation. “He's been running around here like a chicken with its head cut off and has barely said two words to me.” They all agreed that he was distant, quiet, and even busier than normal.
She even asked Bill what he thought about the way Charlie had been acting. “That boy ain't never been right. He's working and keeping out of my way which is the way I like it.”
Myrtle figured that Charlie was just thinking about Mable but decided that she should check on her older brother. “Why are you acting so mysterious?”
“What do you mean?
“You ain't been talking to any of us. Is it because you're in love with Mable or is something else going on? You're gonna get married. That's it, isn't it? You ar
e gonna marry Mable.”
“Ain't nothing of the sort. And don't talk so loud. You're going to get the whole bunch out here wondering what all the fuss is about.”
Myrtle had already proved to Charlie that she could keep a secret. She had not breathed a word to anyone about the reading and writing project he had given her.
“Alright, but again I don't want you to tell nobody. This ain't going to set well with Daddy.”
“What is it?”
“I took a job at another farm and I'll be starting there on Monday.”
“Daddy ain't gonna like that.”
“That's why I'm waiting until the last minute to tell the family. When I do, you know what will happen. That'll be the last time you see me around here.”
Of all her siblings, Charlie was her favorite. Myrtle was devastated by the news of his leaving. “Please don't go.” Then she began to cry.
“Don't do that, please. I'll find a way to see you again. Just not here.”
“But why? Why do you have to work somewhere else? It's just another farm. Farming is farming.”
“You know how Daddy treats me. I just can't take it anymore.”
“Why does he have to be so mean to you? He doesn't treat the rest of us bad like that. Sometimes he gets cross with Mama but with you, it's....”
“...like he hates me. Like I'm his bitter enemy and not his son.”
“Maybe I could ask him to stop so you won't have to leave.”
“Don't you dare put yourself in that position. Besides, whatever you say he's not going to change.”
“It ain't fair.”
“Now run along and let me get this hay in before dark.”
“But what about Mable's letters?”
“Just do what you did before. Read them and write something nice that sounds like something I would say. Now, skedaddle.
Deeply saddened by the revelation that Charlie was leaving Myrtle went for a walk in a nearby field where she sat on a stump and cried for nearly an hour. She worried how the others would take the news, especially her mother. What would they do without Charlie? He did most of the work on the farm but more than that he made them laugh.
True enough, Myrtle did her best to keep Charlie's secret but her sad demeanor alarmed her mother. “Myrtle, are you feeling alright. Are you coming down with something?”
“No, mam. Just tired I reckon. I'm alright.”
Charlie barely took the time to eat and sleep. He just kept working to the point that even his father wondered why he was working so hard. “What's gotten into that boy?”
Eventually, Bill decided that Charlie was getting the farm ready for winter, but that work didn't usually start until mid-October. He's up to something, he thought and then he had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“Mary, been thinking about what you said about the way Charlie's been acting and I think you're right. Has he said anything more about getting drafted?”
“Last I heard he registered but nothing since.”
“I'll bet you he got drafted and he's getting the farm ready for winter before he leaves for the army.”
News that her son might be fighting in a war was very upsetting to Charlie's mother and she made a beeline to the field where he was working.
“I'm coming with you,” said Bill. Mary's concern was for her son's well-being, but Bill was worried that the government was about to take away his best worker. He was ready to give Uncle Sam a piece of his mind.
Uh, oh, thought Charlie. Had Myrtle revealed his plan? The speed at which they were marching toward him just looked like trouble.
Bill stood back and let Mary do the talking. “Charlie, what's going on? You've been acting strange the last few days and your daddy thinks it's because you've been drafted. Is that right?”
“No, mam.”
“Something's not right.”
“I was waiting to tell you after I got the farm ready for winter.”
“Tell us what?” said Bill stepping in front of Mary.
“I got offered a job and I took it.”
“Why would you do that?” said Mary. This is your home. You belong here.”
“It's time for me to move on,” said Charlie trying to avoid saying what he was really thinking.
“Like I said before, Mary. He thinks we ain't good enough. Where you going? Over with them panty waists at Strathmore? Got you a good sissified job over there I bet.”
“No, sir. That's not where I'm going.”
Mary embraced her son. “Please don't leave, Charlie. At least wait until you get you a good woman to settle down with. You know we love you, don't you? Why don't you tell them that you changed your mind?”
“I gave my word.”
“Wake up and smell the coffee, Mary. He don't love us none. Only one he loves is himself and them Wisslers.”
“That's not true. I do love you.”
“Well, you have a fool way of showing it,” said Bill whose temper was now flaring. “Pack your stuff and get off my property. Don't ever want to see your face here again.”
“Bill, don't say that. You don't mean that. Charlie, he's just upset. He doesn't really want you to leave.”
“I meant what I said. Right now you are trespassing on private property and if you aren't out of here by sundown, I'm gonna go get the sheriff and have your sorry butt thrown in jail.”
“Bill,” said Mary angrily. “Stop that crazy talk. This is his home too.”
“Not no more. He's made his choice and now I'm making mine.”
Mary hugged Charlie tightly. “Please, please don't go.”
“I love you, Mama. This is just something I've got to do.”
“Mary, stop hanging on him. He ain't no son of ours anymore.”
Charlie gently removed his mother's arms from around his neck. “I'll be seeing you, Mama.”
“Not on this property you won't,” said Bill grabbing the pitchfork from Charlie's hand. “Get your hands off my stuff.”
“Bill, please stop,” said Mary now crying as Charlie turned to walk away. “Do something. Don't let him go away like this. This ain't right. Charlie, please tell me why you're doing this? Is it something I did or said?”
“I just can't take it no more. Daddy has made it clear that he hates my guts and that I make his life miserable. Isn't that right, Daddy? Let me see, I believe the way you put it was that just the sight of me makes you want to puke. Oh, yeah. I'm a worthless piece of trash that don't have the brains of a stump. And when you weren't reminding me of how useless I was you were beating me to where I couldn't walk. So today I'm doing us both a favor and making life better for the both of us.”
As Charlie walked away, Bill angrily yelled at him until he was out of site. “I knew back when your baby brother died that the wrong boy died. But you're dead now. Dead and gone.”
The scenario that Charlie had hoped to avoid had now come to pass. He was homeless and his new job was nearly a week away. Maybe his old friend Frank Wissler would give him a place to bed down for a few days until started work at the Miller farm.
From the room that had been his for the last 21 years, he grabbed as much as he could carry on horseback. His sisters and mother lined up at the door to say goodbye. They were all heartbroken that he was leaving but none more so than Myrtle.
“I'll miss you,” she said.
“I'll miss you, too. Don't forget to take care of our little project.”
His mother hugged him one last time and for the first time in her recollection Charlie was in tears. “Mama, I'm so sorry that it has to be this way. I hope you understand.”
“Of course I do. As much as I hate for you to go, it's the right thing. I was selfish for wanting you to stay. Many a time I tried to talk to your daddy about the way he was treating you, but he wouldn't hear it. Please forgive me for not doing more.”
“You did all you could. It's not your fault.”
“You never told me where you're going.”
“For now I d
on't know rightly where I'm headed but on Monday I start work over at the Miller farm.”
“Russell Miller is a good church-going man. He'll do right by you.”
“Sure hope so. Take care, all of you. I love you and I'm gonna miss you.”
Charlie fought back tears as he headed to prepare his horse for his journey. When he walked into the barn, his father was waiting. “Thought you might try coming in here.”
“Just going to get my horse and I'll be on my way.”
“What horse? You don't own a horse. Must be talking about my horse and if you try taking him then, that will make you a horse thief. You reckon they'll hold that new job of yours till you get out of the county prison?”
Charlie just shook his head in disgust and dropped his bag of possessions on the barn floor. “Suppose these here clothes are yours too.” The he turned around and walked out the door and headed down a path toward the main road.
With only the clothes on his back and not a penny in his pocket Charlie left the only home he had ever known. He stopped at the entrance to the road and looked sadly back at the old farmhouse one last time and then he turned his attention to finding a place to stay for the night. His original idea of seeking help from Frank Wissler was no longer an option since his preferred mode of transportation had been taken away from him. Strathmore was just too far away and nightfall had arrived.
He narrowed his options to three choices. Walking to Edinburg was quickly ruled out since it was 15 miles away and he lacked any funds for renting a room. Mable's house was about 9 miles away, but he didn't want to give her parents cause to think badly of him. That only left one possibility and even that was uncertain. He would walk the 5 miles to the home of Russell Miller, explain what happened with his daddy, and request to sleep in the barn. Surely Mr. Miller would understand and extend him that courtesy.
As he walked, Charlie did a lot of thinking about his future. It has to be better than the hell I've been through, he reasoned. He also thought a lot about Mable and her place in his new life. Maybe now he would have more time for a social life and even his own money to do with as he pleased. By the time he completed his 2-hour journey to the Miller residence he was feeling considerably more hopeful than when he began.
In the Valley of Hope Page 14
