A Story for Eloise
by
Robert James Allison
Names, characters, and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
First Suitor Enterprises
www.RobertJamesAllison.com
Copyright © 2012 by Robert James Allison
March 2013
All rights reserved
Jake Sadler sat on his front porch looking out over the dark valley to the far hills. The stars were brilliantly beaming down at him this cool, dry September night. He was tired, bone tired. All day he had worked in his fields getting ready to harvest his corn. From just before sunup to well after sundown Jake worked his small farm in West Virginia.
The farm was nestled in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains and there wasn't a flat spot containing more than two acres at any one place. The 80 acres of corn that he harvested every year just barely kept him and his family alive. There was little cash at the end of the year to buy much of anything. Mostly the cash went to buy school things for his two kids and maybe some material for his wife to sew clothes.
He was 35 years old this year and he felt 80 most of the time. Other than his old beat up truck, there were no machines on his farm. He farmed as his father had and his father before him. One mule and a single-bottom plow did all the work around his farm. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t have liked some machinery, but where was the money to come from. The kids needed schooling more than he needed farm machinery. He placed high emphasis on schooling. Any kid of his caught shirking his schooling was in for a trip to the woodshed. On that point, the old man was unyielding and the kids knew it well.
The front porch was his favorite spot, second only to the living room where his son and daughter did their homework. He loved to watch them at their books and encouraged them to work extra hard. He was a poor man, from a poor family, living in a poor area, and he knew the value of an education.
Now though, the kids were in bed and his wife was sewing in her chair by the light of a coal oil lamp on the kitchen table. There was no electricity out here in these foothills unless you were a lot richer than he was. It would have cost a fortune to run the electric transmission line up the long hill to his four-room cabin. There was running water only because he had rigged pipes to bring in water from a spring farther up the hill. The cabin was heated by wood which he spent most of the fall and winter chopping.
His was a hard life, but a good one. No one bothered them way up here and they had pretty much what they needed. The land around his farm was heavily wooded and was seldom entered by anyone other than him, when hunting. He didn't buy a hunting license. First of all, he didn't have the money for one and second, there was no one to see him hunting. About the only strangers they got around here were the “revenuers” looking for the stills that many area residents had hid up in these hills making “moonshine”. Not him though, he had seen what that “white lightning” could do to someone and he wanted no part of it. So the “revenuers” didn't bother him and they weren't interested in his illegal hunting.
Besides, he hunted to feed his family, not for sport. As inadequately educated as he was, he perceived a big difference in breaking the law to support your family and breaking the law for fun. He didn't do anything for fun. He worked to live.
He decided he had better get up and head inside because daylight wouldn’t wait and he needed some rest. When he opened the old wooden screen door and stepped inside the cabin he was surprised to see his daughter still at the kitchen table. Eloise was his sweetheart. She was 9 years old, skinny, full of vim and vigor, and had the prettiest long blonde hair.
As he closed the screen door he said, “I thought both you young'ens was in bed. How come you’re still up, El?”
“I had a lot of homework tonight, Pa and now I want a story read to me,” Eloise answered pertly.
“A story read to you! What do we send you to school for? You’re old enough to read stories to yourself.”
“It ain't the same, Pa. I like to have stories read to me sometimes,” she answered with a pout on her face and continued, “read me a story, Pa, Please!”
“No honey, not tonight, I'm tired. Got to get up early in the morning. Maybe your Ma will read to you. I got to get to bed.”
“Aw, Pa. Please. You never read me a story. You always got to get to bed or get up early or you’re too busy,” she said with the pout on her face getting deeper.
“Well, I do have to get up early. I got to tend the crops or we won't have money to buy you no school stuff or cloth for clothes. Talk to your mother,” he said gruffly and walked on through to his bedroom.
Janice Sadler looked up from her sewing and said softly to Eloise still pouting at the table, “Eloise, you know better than to bug your Pa about reading and helping with homework. He has things to do and he has a lot on his mind just feeding us and keeping us warm in the winter. I've told you a thousand times not to whine around about him not reading you stories. I'll read you a story if you want, but you quit bugging your Pa about it. You hear?”
“Yes, Ma, but he has never read me a story. Don't he like me?”
“Hush your mouth young lady. I never want to hear you say anything like that again and especially not near enough so your father might hear. Can't you see he works himself near to death every day to keep you safe and warm and in school? You think he does that because he doesn't like you? He loves you and Jamie more than life itself, but he doesn't have the time or strength to work this farm and argue with you about reading and homework.
“Your work is school and his work is this farm. He expects you to do your work and he expects you to let him do his,” she finished with severity in her voice that was worse than a rap from Jake's belt. Then a little softer and kinder she said, “now, Eloise, you get on to bed and first thing tomorrow night I'll read you any two stories you want. Okay?”
“Okay, Ma. Goodnight,” Eloise said and went over to hug and kiss her mother goodnight.
When Eloise was settled into her bed Janice put up her sewing and after arranging the fire in the stove for lighting first thing in the morning, turned out the coal lamp and headed for bed. She quietly entered the bedroom and slipped into her nightgown. As she slid into bed next to Jake the moonlight cascaded across his face and she could see his eyes still open and a glistening of tears on his cheeks. She asked quietly, “You heard?”
“Yes.”
“She didn't mean nothing, Jake. She don't understand, that's all. Don't pay her no mind. She's just a little girl. Kids don't realize what their words can do. Later on she'll grow up and realize that words can hurt more than fists. I'll read to her tomorrow night.”
He said nothing. There was nothing to say. He rolled over on his side and tried to get to sleep. Morning was coming and he couldn't stop it.
~*~
In the morning, before sunup, Jake was up, dressed, and out in the barn milking one of two milk cows. While milking, and although it was still only September, he began thinking about the coming winter. Up in these hills you couldn’t get prepared for winter early enough. He knew he would have to start cutting firewood in earnest very soon and stockpiling it for the cold winter months.
This year he hoped to get a little work down in the valley to supplement his crop money. Never hurt to get a little extra put aside just in case a bad year came along and
the crop was down. Sometimes he could get work running deliveries for the combination hardware store and pharmacy. The roads around the small town were tough in the winter and Jake was one of the few who could get through to the out-of-the-way farms when the snow was piling up. He knew the roads and trails like the back of his hand. He had grown up in these foothills and had never been more than 25 miles from this farm in 35 years.
He finished the milking and carried the pails into the house, trying to avoid the mud puddles made by the rain last night. A real gully washer, he thought. Fortunately he had just finished repairing the roof of the cabin. A leak would have been easy to see last night, he mused, must have gotten two inches of rain in an hour. He carried the milk in while Jamie held the door for him.
“I would have done that for you, Pa. You got plenty else to do,” Jamie said.
“I know son and I thank you, but you got to get ready for school. Get your breakfast and get on down the road to the bus stop. I'll tend to the chores. There will be plenty more to do soon. I got to start cutting and chopping wood for winter.
“Pa, why don't I just quit school and help you on the farm?”
“No. Don't even think such a thing. You can't get nowhere in this world without an education,” Jake responded sharply.
“You done all right, Pa,” Jamie insisted.
“I haven't done nothing son. I just barely keep us alive on this old farm.”
“But you quit school early to help your Pa,” Jamie continued, not being one to let go of a point.
“My Pa was hurt bad when that horse fell on him. He never was right again. Did something to his head, I guess. I had to work the farm. There weren't no choice. You got a choice boy. Don't choose the way I went. If you do, you'll regret it the rest of your life. There's a whole big world out there son. At least, that's what I been told. I never seen it, but I heard tell. I want you to see it. Now you get on down to that bus stop with your sister and I'll hear no more talk about quitting school. I expect you to work harder in school than I do on this farm. Now get going,” he ended with finality.
Thirty minutes later he looked up from chopping wood to see Eloise and Jamie walking back up the road. When they got within earshot he yelled, “Why ain't you kids down there at the bus stop? You miss that bus and you're going to get double trouble from me!”
By this time Jamie was close enough for normal conversation and he replied, “Road's washed out or if it ain't, it ought to be, because the water's about 4 feet over it and flowing fast. Guess the bus can't get through to us, Pa. It should have been here 15 minutes ago.”
Janice had come out on the front porch to find out what was going on and having heard the last of it said, “well, I reckon Jamie can give you a hand with that firewood and El can help me do some cleaning.”
“No,” Jake said and continued, “a little rain ain't a good enough excuse for my kids to miss school. I'll get the truck out and take them in myself. They might be a little late, but they are going to school.” And with that he headed for the garage to get out the truck.
Eloise and Jamie waited on the front porch until Jake pulled up and then they climbed in. He slid the shifter into first and eased the truck out and down the lane toward the bottom of the hill. Just short of the washout he turned sharp right and headed back up the hill on an old gravel lane that looked like it hadn't been used for years.
“Pa this don't go nowhere,” Jamie said.
“You may know your books at school boy, but the old man knows a few tricks about living in these hills. Ain't a road or trail I ain't been on in most any kind of weather. You just sit back and watch,” he said easily.
~*~
Jamie was far from convinced, but did as he was told and watched. Sure enough to his amazement, his dad followed that old road halfway back up the hill to the farm and then made a sharp left back down the hill. The road got worse, but Jamie could see ahead what looked like an old bridge.
He had never been down this part of the hill before. The woods were so thick in here that he always just assumed the old gravel road turned to nothing and ended, but it didn't. The old bridge wasn't much and it had been covered over with boulders and smaller rock to make more of a ford than a bridge, but what was left of the bridge let enough water under it to keep the flow on top slow enough that the old truck easily slipped across it.
“Hey, I never knew this old bridge was here,” Jamie said in amazement.
“See there boy. The old man ain't as stupid as you think,” Jake said flatly.
“Pa, I never said you was stupid.”
“I know boy. I was just a talk'n.”
~*~
Thirty minutes later Jake had delivered the kids at school and was on his way back home when he decided he might as well stop at the hardware store and inquire about delivery work. Never hurt to get an early start. Someone else might think of asking and if he didn't get there first then he would miss out.
Of course the hardware store owner had been interested in Jake's help this winter. After all, no one else could get around in this country in summer or winter as good as Jake Sadler. So Jake having lined up a little extra income for the winter was as happy as a lark as he headed up the hard road to the hill. Just before turning off the main road he heard a siren behind him and looked in the rear view mirror to see red and blue flashing lights. He eased the truck over to give the trooper room to pass, but instead, the trooper pulled in behind his truck and stopped.
His heart sank to his stomach and he wondered to himself, What in the world, I didn't do nothing.
Jake watched dejectedly as the trooper got out of his car and walked up to the driver's side of the truck.
“May I see your driver's license please?” the trooper asked politely.
“Sure,” Jake responded evenly, and as he was digging in his overalls for his wallet, he was thinking, It’s a good thing I remembered to bring along my billfold. This must be some mistake. I’m a careful driver. I don't speed and I pay attention to the signs. I don't have the money to pay any fines and I can’t get a ticket…I just can't.
“Sorry, Mr. Sadler, but I'll have to give you a citation for speeding. The limit on this road is 55 miles per hour and I clocked you at 65,” the trooper said, just as politely as before.
“But I…” he started to say in protest, but then he thought better of it. He had been raised to respect the police. His kind never had much contact with them, but he was raised to respect them. And besides, he knew it wouldn't do any good. Some of the folks around here got real huffy with the state troopers and just got in more trouble. He didn't want more trouble. This was too much already.
Besides, this trooper didn't look like he would take a liking to be argued with. He was real polite, but he was also real big. Jake figured him at about six-foot-two and 200 pounds. Older guy, too. Mighty old to be a trooper working the road, Jake thought. Jake noticed the cop’s hair was all white and kind of long, but old or not he figured this guy could whip his weight in wildcats and even if he had been inclined to give him a hard time, which he wasn't, he decided, it wouldn't even be a contest.
Jake sat silently and somberly while the trooper wrote the ticket out and gave it to him. The trooper explained that he had to keep his license for bail, but the yellow copy of the ticket would be Jake's proof of being licensed until the ticket was paid. He also gave him an envelope to mail in his fine money if he wanted to avoid having to go to court. Jake carefully pulled out on the road and made his turn up the old gravel road to the farm with a feeling of utter despair.
Maybe he should have let the kids stay home from school today, but education was important and it wasn't the fault of his kids going to school. Just a bad piece of luck, he thought. But I wasn't speeding, he grumbled to himself. I know I wasn't, but it don't do no good to argue. Just get myself in more trouble, as if that were possible, he dismally thought.
~*~
Janice knew something was wrong when she saw Jake put the truck up and go about
his work without coming in for a cup of coffee. She watched him out of the window and could tell his mind wasn't on his work. At lunchtime she called him in and he dragged along, not seeming to care if he ate lunch or not.
“What's the matter, Jake?” she asked, as he came through the door.
“On the way back from town I got stopped by a trooper and he gave me a ticket for speeding, but I wasn't speeding. I know I wasn't. I'm always real careful, Janice. You know that. What am I going to do now? My license is up for renewal in three months. The trooper took it for bail. All I got is this yellow copy of the ticket. I'm supposed to deliver for the hardware store this winter and we need the money,” he finished with despair in his voice.
Janice started to respond, but she knew whatever she said would not do any good. He was down and out and she could not reach him when he was like that. She put lunch on and Jake ate quickly, returning to his work.
~*~
Janice was sitting on the front porch when the kids came up the lane. “Water down?” she asked.
“Yes and the bus didn't have no trouble at all,” Eloise said.
“Better get on your homework then. I'll read to you after you've finished, Eloise.”
“I think I'll go help Pa bust up some wood first, Ma,” Jamie said, always concerned that his father worked too hard and too long. Tossing his school bag inside the front door he strolled off to where his father was working.
Janice watched as he went, thinking how fast he was growing up. So concerned that his father was not able to get his work done and needed his help. But when he arrived at the woodpile she could see Jake speaking to him. She didn't need to hear the words. The expression on their faces was enough. Jake was bawling him out and Jamie turned and quickly headed for the house. When he got close enough she could see he was on the verge of tears, but too big of a boy to let them flow.
He wrenched open the front door and she heard him pick up his book bag and then slam it on the kitchen table. She knew enough was enough, no matter what Jake might think. It was time.
She got up from her chair and went inside to see Eloise at work and Jamie staring at the wall trying very hard to hold back his tears. “What's the matter, Jamie?”
A Story for Eloise Page 1
