A Story for Eloise

by Robert James Allison

  “Nothing! Pa just said to get on my homework. Said he didn't need no help and I knew my homework came first. He'd do his work and I'd better do mine!” he finished with bitterness.

  “Jamie, you know how your Pa feels about your schooling,” she said soothingly.

  “I know, Ma, but why does he have to be so mean about it! What's the matter with him anyway? He quit school to work the farm. He ought to understand!” He said having real difficulty holding back the tears now. “Why don't he like us?”

  “He likes you, Jamie. He loves you both dearly and he does understand, more than you know. I guess it's long past time to tell you a few things. You, too, Eloise, so you can quit pretending you're doing your homework and listen to me.”

  Eloise put her pencil down and looked at her mother with innocent eyes.

  “First off. You don't tell your father you know this stuff and you don't let on you know or I'll tan your hide myself! Understand?”

  After both had nodded in the affirmative, she continued, “Okay. Jamie your Pa didn't really quit school, because he never really went. He was only eight when your grandpa was hurt and he had barely started to school when he had to work the farm. He was big for his age and that helped. He was too young to be farming from daylight to dark, but he did it anyway. He has been doing it ever since.

  “He don't know any other way now. He never got to be a young boy and play in the woods and meadows or fish in the creeks. At eight he worked from sunup to sundown chopping wood and tending the fields. By age 12 he was doing a man's work on the farm and in town, too, when he could find extra work. That's only part of it though.

  “You see, today he got a speeding ticket on the way back from taking you to school and his license is up for renewal in three months.”

  Jamie cut in, “So what, Ma. Lots of people around here never got much schooling and Pa can scrape up the money for a fine. He'll have his license back before time for renewal. I know that, because I'm taking driver education classes right now.”

  “No, Jamie. You don't understand. Let me finish. He has never had a ticket in his life. He’s a careful driver and there’s a reason for that. What do you know from your classes about what happens when you get a ticket and go to renew your license?” she asked Jamie.

  “You have to take a test, because you got a ticket. So what?”

  “So, your Pa can't read. That's so what. He can't pass a test he can't read and if he doesn't pass he won't have a license; and if he doesn't have a license he can't do deliveries this winter and we need the money. Now you know. That's what has him so upset and that's why I kept trying to tell you kids not to pester him about reading you stories and helping with your homework. He’s a proud man. He can’t bear to have his kids know he can't read. He can’t read a word, not one. It's all he can do to write his name. I do all the reading and writing he needs to get his farming done.”

  “But, Ma,” Jamie put in and continued, “I remember Pa looking at our report cards and saying how good we did or how we was poor in a subject. How could he do that if he couldn't read?”

  “Do you ever remember him looking at your report cards before me? Do you ever remember him looking at your report cards when I wasn't in the room? No you don't, because it didn't happen. When he looked at your report card he'd recite from memory your subjects and look at me to nod if they were good or shake my head if they were bad.

  “You see, Jamie he can't even tell an ‘A’ from an ‘F’. It ain't his fault. He had to quit school before he ever really started and that's why he acts so mean, as you say, about you doing your homework. He will kill himself working this farm to see that you and Eloise get the education he never could. Don't you understand? He loves you so much he is willing to go to his grave early so that you can read stories to your kids and read their report cards yourself, without someone nodding at you or shaking their head.

  “You don't know the times I've caught him crying silently in the night, because you kids thought he didn't like you when he refused to read a story or help you with your homework. If you only knew how badly he wanted to be able to just read you a story. To sit you on his lap when you were little and read you a story. To just be able to look at your report cards and see for himself that you were doing good. That's all he ever wanted out of life, but it was taken from him and he has vowed to himself that the same thing will not happen to his kids.

  “He promised himself when you kids were born that you would never know the heartache he has known. That's why he insists so strongly that you do your homework and do it right. That's why he works from before sunup to well after dark. He wants to make sure that there is money to keep you in school. Do you blame him if he gets upset when he thinks you are shirking your homework when he has worked so hard to make sure you had the chance to do homework?”

  “How come he never told us himself?” Eloise asked.

  “How does a father tell his children that he knows less than they do when they reach the second grade?” Janice said flatly.

  “But that ain't true, Ma,” Jamie said, “why, just this morning he showed us both he knew more than us about the roads and trails around here.”

  “That ain't the same, Jamie. There's more than one kind of knowledge. Your Pa is smart when it comes to getting along in these hills and on this farm, but he doesn't know anything about the world outside these hills. He has no formal education and he knows he could never survive outside these hills. But he wants you two to be able to leave these hills if you want and make it in the outside world. He doesn't want you to do that for him. He wants you to do it for you.”

  Jamie asked, “Ma how did he get his license in the first place if he couldn't read?”

  “That was over 20 years ago, Jamie. They weren't as strict then and besides, he was real young and pretended he didn't understand most of the questions and the examiners helped him some. Actually they helped him a whole lot, if you get my meaning He memorized the shapes of signs and the shapes of the words on most of them. So he could tell by the color, shape of the sign, and shape of the words what the sign stood for. The other questions…well…like I said the examiners helped him, because they knew him and how hard things had been for him. But things have changed now and there's no help for him down there now. There is no way he can pass that test now and he knows it.”

  “Why don't Pa go back to school?” asked Eloise.

  “There's no time or money for him to go to school, Eloise. Even if there was, his pride wouldn't let him. He's too old to go to grade school and I can't teach him. I can barely read well enough to keep up with you kids. I'm no teacher.

  “Well, now you know and you keep this to yourself. You be a little more tolerant of your father now and get that homework done without him having to remind you.”

  “What's Pa going to do without his license, Ma?” Jamie asked.

  “I don't know Jamie…I just don't know.”

  Janice noticed that the children worked on their homework with extra vigor that night. She hoped it would continue and that they would not let slip what they had been told.

  When supper was ready Janice called Jake into the house. He was still dragging around as if the world had ended and she guessed that from his perspective it had.

  “You kids get your homework done?” he asked as he came in the door and hung up his light-weight coat. The weather was already starting to turn cool.

  Jamie piped up, “Yes, Pa and it's real neat, too.”

  “That's good, Jamie. Neatness pays off in the end. Ain't no good to get the right answer if no one can read it…Jamie?”

  “Yes, Pa.”

  “I'm sorry I jumped on you so hard this afternoon about doing your homework. I know you was only wanting to help me and I appreciate it.”

  “That's okay, Pa. I understand. I really do. Homework is important. I know how hard you work to make sure I can stay in school and I may not act like it sometimes, but I'm glad you do. I'll tend to my work first and if there is time I'll
help you.”

  “Thanks, Jamie. You're a good boy. Going to be a fine man real soon. I can see it more every day. Don't grow up too fast though, not just yet. Take some time to be a kid while you can. Once you grow up it's too late to do the kid stuff. When you grow up you got responsibilities and you can't play, even if you want to.”

  After supper Jake went back out to the barn to finish some chores that he could do in the light of the lamps in the barn. He had blocked out the ticket and the driver’s license. Wasn't anything to be done for it now. He knew that God would provide for him and his family somehow.

  The only day off he took was Sunday and then only half of it. He figured half a day when there was a whole days work to be done was the best he could make himself do. He was sure God understood and he did attend church every week no matter what the weather or how he felt. He made sure the whole family went, too. If there was one thing in this life more important to him than his children's education, it was regular church attendance.

  Inside the house, Jamie and Eloise helped clean up the kitchen and wash the dishes. Janice was amazed that she hadn't even gotten a protest about it. In fact, they had just started helping without her saying a word. She figured Jake was right about Jamie growing up and she figured he hadn't noticed that Eloise was getting there, too, although she had a bit further to go.

  ~*~

  Jamie double-checked his homework after the dishes were done and announced he was going to bed to read. He read for a while in bed, but couldn't keep his mind on his book. Every time he read a line he kept remembering that his father couldn't read and had given up the chance to learn in order to support his family. He might be growing up, but he was still enough of a kid that he could not quite understand that kind of sacrifice. Ma is right, he thought, things were different back then. Finally, he gave up on his book and tucked himself into bed.

  When he was all settled in he decided there was one thing he could do to help his father. Probably the best thing, to hear his father tell it. Dear God, please help my Pa. He's a good man and he works hard. Pa says you can do anything and everything and right now he needs both. Amen.

  ~*~

  Mike didn't realize how cool it got in October in the Appalachian foothills. He was wearing a pretty heavy coat and was almost ready to dig through his knapsack and get out his gloves and leathers.

  He had ridden his motorcycle aimlessly for the past month or so across the upper Midwest. Most of the time he traveled only a few miles a day, just cruising the back roads and looking at the scenery. It was peaceful, but not fulfilling. He was still empty inside and suspected he might always be that way.

  Occasionally he would find a deserted spot along the back roads and sleep out in his small tent. The occasional passerby gave him a careful looking over when he did that and twice the local police asked him to move on. When that happened he realized the country was not quite a free as it used to be.

  He didn't really blame people for staring and the police for thoroughly checking him out. After over a month on the road without shaving or stopping for a haircut he was starting to look the part of a penniless drifter. A drifter he was, but penniless he was not. Still, he never let on to anyone about that. It was no longer something he took pride in.

  The highway he was now on lead directly into a small town and was a well-traveled road. Though his appearance had occasioned unusual stares a few hundred miles north it was obvious his appearance was having the right effect in this part of the country. He did not scare off the locals as a “city slicker” might.

  Finally, he topped out over a rise in the road and below him he saw the little town tucked in a valley between two large foothills. Back in central Illinois these would be called mountains, he thought, but around here they are just dinky little hills. The town lay about another three quarters of a mile down the road at the bottom of the hill he was on and it was probably not half as large as the town he had lived near and in which Mary had died.

  There appeared to be just one long main street which contained about a dozen storefronts, approximately six on each side of the street. One side street intersected with the main street and there were four or five storefronts on that street. There were only a few houses, which made sense in this part of the country, because most people around here lived out in the hills. Town was just a gathering place and a place you came for supplies once a week or once a month.

  As he got closer he could see that one of the buildings was a church and another was a school with a fair-sized playground. It looked like there might be a stop sign at the intersection in the middle of town, but judging from the few trucks and cars on the main street a traffic light was definitely not needed.

  As he entered the town he could identify the stores now. There was a bank predictably located on the corner of the main street and the side street. Most of the buildings were unpainted clapboard, but the school, church, and bank were brick or stone. There was at least one general store, a hardware store and pharmacy combined. Also a small post office, a grocery store, a blacksmith shop, and a livery stable were in appearance.

  The latter would seem out of place and out of time anywhere but in the foothills of the Appalachians. Many farmers around here still used horses for plowing and harvesting so a blacksmith and livery were a necessity. That is probably the reason there are so few cars, he thought, since now that he was in town he could see several horses and horse-drawn wagons tied up along the street.

  He felt like he had been knocked on the head and had awakened in the 19th century. This country was worth the trip just to see. This was a peaceful place if ever he had seen one.

  He drove up to the intersection and parked in front of the general store located kitty corner from the bank. The general store had a small coffee counter and he was ready for a cup of hot coffee. He was surprised that the town had a separate post office. Usually that function was carried on at the general store in this type of community.

  As he swung the door open and closed it gently behind him the storekeeper looked up from his account books.

  Mike said, “afternoon.”

  “Howdy,” returned the storekeeper. “What can I do for you?”

  Mike eased over toward the potbellied stove that was burning just off the center of the room and said, “mostly I'd just admire to get warm if you don't mind. I been riding a ways and I'm a might chilly. I'd have a cup of that coffee though.”

  “Sure. It is gett'n cool early this year. You ain't from around here close is yu?” the storekeeper said in a matter-of-fact tone, as he handed him the cup of coffee and took his payment.

  “No. I expect my manner of speech gave me away, huh,” Mike responded with a smile.

  “Yes, suh, I did notice you didn't exactly talk like a hill folk does,” the storekeeper answered mildly.

  “Just pass'n through, but I'd stay a while if I took a notion. Gett'n kind of cold to be a riding around these hills. Course then again I might just head farther south and get really warm.”

  “Well, folks ain't real clannish around here,” the storekeeper said with his first hint of a smile. “I expect you'd be welcome to stay if'n you was a mind to. But I don't know of no work around this time of year. If'n that's what you are after. Most of the hill folks is coming to town looking for work themselves.

  “One man, name of Sadler, he comes in every year and drives deliveries for the pharmacy and hardware store. Lots of folks would like to have that job, but they never gets in to ask quick enough and besides, Sadler knows these hills better'n anyone around.”

  “Ain't looking for work. Thanks anyway,” Mike said, as he finished his coffee and left store.

  Outside at his motorcycle he noticed a young boy, a young man really, sitting alongside the sidewalk watching him.

  “Howdy.”

  The boy made no response. He just continued to stare as Mike got on his bike, punched the electric starter button and turned back up the road he had just come down.

  As cool as it
was he had decided to sleep out tonight. He had discovered a real passion for the outdoors and had noticed a nice quiet lane going up the side of the mountain as he had come down into town.

  A few minutes later he had found the lane again and not far up the lane he found a secluded spot well off the lane.

  He unpacked his sleeping bag and cooking utensils and set about fixing an early supper. Living outdoors like this made him feel about as content as he got.

  After supper, while there was still light he unpacked a book and began to read.

  “You're trespassin you know.” A quiet voice came from the trees and he looked up to see the young man he had noticed in town standing about 20 feet away.

  “No I didn't, but if I am I can move on. Don't mean no harm.”

  “I expect it's okay. The guy what owns this woods don't live around here no more. Us kids play here some and hunt here all the time.”

  “Good. I'll just be here a night and then gone if you think it is okay.”

  “Okay.”

  The boy did not leave, but stood and stared. Finally he said, “I'd like to have a motorcycle.”

  “They are kind of nice, but not when the weather is bad,” Mike responded sensing the boy wanted to talk.

  “What you got there?” The boy said pointing at the book.

  “A book.”

  “You can read?”

  “Sure. Can't you?”

  “Yeah sure, I can but....”

  Mike sensed something in the boy. Something troubling. For years he had made his money off of hunches and he had a hunch about this boy and so he said, “pull up a rock. Kind of lonely on the road by yourself. If you got the time.”

  “Sure,” the boy responded as he sat down opposite Mike and the small fire.

  Once he was settled in Mike asked, “You read a lot?”

  “Sure. Pa makes sure us kids read a lot. He makes sure we read the Bible, too and go to church regular.”

  “That's good. Your Pa read to you does he?”

  “No. He don't have the time. He works the farm all the time from early 'til late. He's got no time for helping us with schooling and such. Ma does all the reading to us. Pa makes sure we get our schooling though.”