Searching for Joy

by Linda Baten Johnson

  Ingrid drew in a breath. “It’s small.” She sang the first lines of O Little Town of Bethlehem, in an effort to build her courage for the unknown.

  Walter guided the horses to the first house he saw, hopped down, tied the horse, and offered Ingrid a hand.

  “Is this my uncle’s place?”

  “Don’t know whose place it is. I was hired to take you to Joy. You’re in Joy.” He rapped on the door, and turned back toward the wagon. “Good luck.”

  “Wait, you can’t just dump me here,” Ingrid protested. As she watched Walter depart, she remembered how two men dumped Caleb Finsson on her doorstep and how that event changed the course of her life.

  “Yes?” A man wearing coarse pants with a plain shirt and suspenders stood next to a spare woman with her brown hair put up in a bun on the top of her head. They both looked past her at the back of the man in the departing wagon.

  “Man seemed in quite a hurry to be off,” the woman said.

  Ingrid’s eyes also followed Walter’s rapid retreat, then she turned to face the puzzled couple in front of her. “I’m Ingrid Larkin. I’ve come to Joy to live with my uncle, Sebastian Collins.” She pushed wayward strands of hair away from her face and licked her lips, hoping she didn’t look too disheveled after her journey.

  The woman stretched out a hand to welcome her into the warmth of their home. “I’m afraid you’ve made your journey for naught. Mr. Collins moved right after harvest.”

  “Where? Where did he go?” Ingrid leaned against the door jam.

  The woman pulled Ingrid inside. “Where did Sebastian Collins go, Sidney?”

  Sidney closed the door behind Ingrid. “I think he said he was heading for St. Louis. Or was it Chicago?”

  “He came from Chicago. He must have headed for St. Louis.” The lady turned to Ingrid. “We’re the Ansels. I’m Martha. He’s Sidney. Come sit with me in the kitchen. People end up there anyway, and it’s closer to the coffee. Milk? Sugar?”

  “I don’t want to be a bother.” Ingrid fought to keep her composure. She didn’t want to break down in tears in front of these good Samaritans.

  Martha took Ingrid’s hand and led her to the kitchen. “I like mine with milk and sugar, I’ll fix yours the same if that’s all right.”

  Ingrid tried to smile. She accepted the coffee gratefully after her long day of travel with only a fried egg sandwich for sustenance. A satisfied “um” escaped her lips after the first sip. She looked into Martha’s eyes and saw pity coupled with kindness.

  “Sidney and I want you to stay here, at least until the end of the year, don’t we Sidney?” Martha said.

  “What?” Sidney cupped his ear.

  Martha spoke a little louder. “I said we want Ingrid to stay with us until the end of the year. Right?”

  “Right,” Sidney responded dutifully and went back to studying the almanac.

  “I couldn’t.” Ingrid blinked to stymie the tears threatening to start. “What am I going to do?”

  Martha glanced at the clock. “I’m heading up the Christmas pageant, and I could use your help. I bet you’re good with kids.”

  “You’re very kind, but I have money for a place to stay. Is there a boarding house in town?” Ingrid asked.

  “No boarding house. If you help corral the kids for the church play, you’ll earn your bed and board with Sidney and me. You’ll see what I mean soon enough. The kids are coming tonight for rehearsal. Ingrid, please help. Getting the kids on and off at the right time while I play the piano is a feat.”

  “I’d be happy to help with the pageant, but I’ll still need a place to stay while I figure out what to do.” Ingrid twisted the fabric of her dress, unwilling to meet Martha’s eyes.

  “Ingrid, stay with us until the end of the year. You don’t want to make a hasty decision about what to do next.” Martha placed a gentle hand on Ingrid’s shoulder, then turned to her husband. “Sidney, why don’t you bring another chair into the kitchen?”

  “I’m so sorry.” Ingrid’s eyes filled with tears, and she placed her head in her hands.

  Martha checked to make sure Sidney was in the other room, and then patted Ingrid’s shoulder. “Your fellow sure did leave in a big rush.”

  “I know.” Ingrid sighed as she remembered the way Walter had practically shoved her out of the wagon on the unsuspecting Sidney and Martha Ansel.

  “My dear, I don’t mean to pry.” Martha cleared her throat. “Are you in the family way?”

  Ingrid gasped. “No!” She felt warmth spread from her chest to the top of her head. “No, ma’am. I am not in the family way. I’m a respectable woman.”

  “Didn’t mean to cause you offense,” Martha said. “I had to notice how he high-tailed in out of here.”

  Ingrid inhaled deeply and then tried to explain Martha’s misinterpretation of Walter’s actions. “That man, Walter, was paid to bring me here. Not here to your house, but to Joy, Illinois. My transportation was a job he had to do.”

  “I wouldn’t have minded if you’d been expecting a little one.” Martha opened the pantry.

  “Mrs. Ansel,” Ingrid stopped when Martha wagged a finger in Ingrid’s direction.

  “Call me Martha, please.”

  “Martha,” Ingrid began. “You won’t believe this, but I had a perfectly normal life until a week ago when I opened my door to a stranger.”

  “Sounds like a good yarn. Tell me all about it while we get a meal together, and don’t worry about talking in front of Sidney, he doesn’t hear well.” Martha got out some potatoes and smiled at Ingrid. “I wouldn’t have minded one bit if you’d been expecting a baby.”

  Ingrid took the knife Martha handed her and began peeling potatoes. “That’s a blessing my husband and I weren’t given. He died three years ago in a meatpacking plant accident.”

  “You’re too young to be a widow. Sidney and I celebrated thirty-five years last June. You should marry again.”

  “You sound like my friend Joan.” Ingrid marveled at the acceptance and love she felt in this kitchen from a woman she’d never seen an hour ago.

  “Your friend is right, but I’m not sure you’ll find anyone to marry in Joy. Can’t think of an eligible man within ten miles.” Martha added wood to the cook stove.

  “I’ll tell you what I kept telling Joan. If God wants me to marry, he’ll provide the man, just like he provided a sacrifice for Abraham instead of Isaac.”

  “Let’s not call your future husband a ‘sacrifice.’ Any man would be lucky to have you as his wife. You’re beautiful, and I bet you were a good wife, too.”

  “I learned to be better at managing a household after my Jack died. With money tight, I took in laundry and did sewing to make ends meet.” Ingrid began slicing the potatoes. “How small do you want these?”

  “What you’re doing is fine. I’ll add some pickled beets to the potatoes and leftover chicken, and we’ll call it a meal.” Martha lifted a cloth covering a plate stacked high with gingersnaps. “We’ll have to set some of these aside for us to eat later. The children think it’s their job to eat every cookie on the plate.”

  Ingrid eyed the heaping plates. “How many youngsters are you expecting?”

  “Eight, if they all show up. It’s the usual pageant with shepherds, wise men and the younger ones as sheep and angels. You may have to be Mary. Our ‘Mary’ is helping out at home. Her mother just had another baby.”

  “I’ll be happy to help where you need me,” Ingrid said. “And Martha, I don’t want to impose. I can pay you and Sidney for my room and board.”

  “If you paid us, then I’d have to pay you for making two old people happy during the Christmas season. No more talk about money, Ingrid. Helping us celebrate the Lord’s birth is payment enough. I get lonely without family for the holidays. Our children are grown and gone, don’t come back this way too often. What about your folks?”

  “Gone. My uncle is my only relative, but I can get by. I’m really good with a needle if the costumes ar
en’t done.”

  “Costumes need final touches and you can help me finish up some of my Christmas gifts. I’m not good with sewing. Sidney’s hearing is going and my eyes aren’t what they used to be.”

  Ingrid doubted Martha’s statement, but she appreciated the way the woman made her feel wanted. She would need some time to consider what she should do. Joy was too small a town for her to earn a living, and her meager savings would not take her far.

  * * *

  Ingrid stayed busy with her needle for the next few days. Each child’s costume needed some alteration, and Ingrid went to each of little actor’s home to take measurements.

  To her amazement, Ingrid received a whole-hearted welcome in each home. Both parents and children accepted her as part of their circle.

  In the evenings, Ingrid and Martha worked together like a well-oiled machine in getting the meal prepared, cleaning the kitchen, and wrapping gifts. Ingrid stuffed fabric into Christmas balls with Joy done in cross-stitch, her gift for each child participating in the pageant. She made one for Martha and one for herself.

  The uncertainty of her future clawed at the back of her mind, even when she tried to focus on the gladness of the season. She marveled at the cordiality Martha and Sidney had offered to a stranger, but her future troubled her thoughts. She had to make some decisions, and soon.

  “Stop fretting,” Martha said.

  “What?” Ingrid looked up.

  “You bite your lip when you’re worrying. Let not your heart be troubled, my dear.”

  “Martha, you’ve only known me a week and you’re already reading my mind.” Ingrid held her needle up to the light and poked the thread through the eye.

  “You can stay here until God gives you the answer concerning your future,” Martha said.

  “I guess I’m impatient for an answer. Martha, have you and Sidney ever thought of leaving Joy?”

  “Why would I? Little towns are the best place to live. Every person in Joy is like a relative.” Martha’s eyes gleamed and she gave Ingrid a wink. “You don’t like all your relatives all the time, but you do love them. A big city wouldn’t work for me, Sidney either.”

  “What did you say?” Sidney looked up from his Bible when he heard his name.

  Martha raised her voice. “I said neither of us would ever want to live in a big city.”

  “Right. Won’t be making any moves. We’ll die here. People might even miss us when we’re gone.” Sidney leaned toward the women. “Told the preacher I’d help with the shoveling and sweeping tomorrow, but he told me he’d come here and help us shovel and sweep instead. Pastor reminded me the Christmas Eve program will be in our barn.”

  Martha laughed. “Sidney Ansel, you better not go to the church when your Joseph character is needed in our barn.”

  “I’ll be there to play the part of Joseph as usual.” Sidney nodded to Ingrid. “She patched a couple of holes in my costume. Some hungry mice found a way into the Christmas pageant box.” Sidney stretched. “I’m ready to turn in, are you going to be much longer?”

  Martha squeezed his hand. “I’ll work long enough for you to heat up the bed for me.”

  Ingrid averted her eyes. She saw the visible love between the couple and wondered if a love like theirs would ever be a part of her future.

  Chapter 12

  Caleb worked and reworked the articles about employees in the meat packing facility and their families. Grantham prompted him to include the positive side for the plant owners, reminding Caleb that the plants did offer work for people new to America who didn’t yet speak English. The company housing wasn’t the best, but the rent was cheap. Many immigrants came to the country thinking of their children’s future, and most youngsters in Packingtown were learning English and going to school.

  “Christmas is on a Friday this year, which makes the Sunday paper on the 20th the perfect timing. The readers will be in the Christmas spirit, thinking about others, yet not in a panic about the Christmas Eve and Christmas Day festivities.” Grantham rubbed his hand together.

  Caleb nodded. “Does that mean I can leave on the 20th?”

  Grantham frowned. “I thought you might stay for Christmas. You know how much I enjoy having the people from the paper to my place for Christmas Day.”

  “And we all enjoy being there.” Caleb’s mouth watered at the memory of baked ham, yams, yeast rolls, and the good conversation in Grantham’s place. “Your employees are going to figure out that you’re a softie, and your growl is without teeth.”

  “Can’t have that. Maybe I should cancel Christmas.”

  “You’re no Scrooge,” Caleb said.

  “Will you stay?” Grantham asked.

  “I hope to be with Ingrid and her uncle on Christmas Eve. I’ll wait until mid-week, see how the Sunday edition is received. We may need to do some changes to the articles.”

  “That would be helpful.” Grantham signaled he needed a copy boy, then went to his desk.

  “You’re the one who said I should leave Chicago.” Caleb kept his head down, pretending to study his notes.

  Grantham withdrew an envelope from his center drawer and placed it on top of Caleb’s work. “Give this letter to the editor of the San Francisco Examiner. That paper is a good fit for you.”

  “I’ll miss Chicago.” Caleb actually meant he’d miss Grantham.

  “If you’re planning to leave before Christmas, you’re going to have to put in some extra hours. Take a photographer, get some pictures to go with these stories, and some for that book you’re going to write. Go. I have other stories to work on.” Grantham motioned for the copy boy to come into the office.

  Caleb picked up his jacket and bumped the photographer’s back in a signal to come with him. Caleb didn’t trust himself to look at the pain in Grantham’s eyes or allow the man to see the sadness in his own.

  Caleb gave a salute. “Yes, sir. This will be the best series the paper has ever run.”

  Caleb and the photographer scrambled to reach the Packingtown section before good light for pictures faded. They photographed women pumping water, the children playing tag in the streets, and the debris and trash piled outside the company tenement units. Neither newspaper man changed his clothes, so the residents glared at them.

  Joan’s cheery voice answered Caleb’s rap on the Pardnik door. “Come on in if you’ve got food or a helping hand.”

  “Does good news count?” Caleb answered.

  “Caleb? Do you know what’s happened to Ingrid? We’ve been worried sick.” Joan’s mouth flew open as she studied Caleb in his tailored clothes, and followed his gaze to the baby in her arms.

  “Ingrid’s fine, Joan. She’s in Joy, and I’m going there to find her. I have a proposition for her.”

  “I don’t like that word, proposition, Caleb Finsson, if that is your name.”

  “That is my name, and by proposition, I mean a proposal of marriage—if she’ll have me.” Caleb looked down at the baby in Joan’s arms. “Did you get your girl?”

  “No, the baby’s a healthy boy to keep our other three rascals company. We named him Jack, after Ingrid’s husband.” Joan offered the baby to Caleb. “Would you like to hold him?”

  “Sure. Do you trust me? I’d love to have four boys, too.” He handled the baby awkwardly for only a moment before returning the baby to his mother. “Where are those scamps? I’d like to take photographs of them. The editor pays for the rights to print them in the newspaper.” Caleb offered Joan two silver dollars.

  “You’re willing to pay a high price for pictures of my boys.” Joan raised her eyebrows.

  “They’re worth it,” Caleb said.

  “I know that, Caleb Finsson, I’m their mother. I’ll go whistle them home for you.” Joan paused before she reached the front door. “You better take good care of Ingrid, or you’ll have to answer to me.”

  “You can count on it.” Caleb said.

  * * *

  The Christmas pageant proved as hectic as Martha Ansel
promised Ingrid it would be. When Mrs. Ansel refused the children’s request to allow a horse or cow into the house so it would look more like a stable during rehearsals, the young actors petitioned for chickens, cats, and dogs.

  “Preacher suggested we have the performance outside in the barn.” Martha expected the children to protest that it would be too cold.

  Instead they agreed that would be a terrific idea and clamored to move the rehearsals outside, too.

  “You children will all be frostbit if we have the pageant outside, as well as all who come to watch you.” Ingrid had assumed the role of Mary because the assigned Mary sent word she couldn’t participate.

  “No, we wouldn’t,” one of the wise men said.

  “We wouldn’t,” echoed an angel.

  Shepherds, sheep, other wise men, and angels assured Mrs. Ansel and Ingrid that they would not get frostbite.

  “We practice inside and have the show in the barn, right?” One of the older boys stated the idea for the benefit of the younger actors.

  A young angel, wearing a tinsel halo, tugged on Mrs. Ansel’s skirt. “We could all meet in your house Mrs. Ansel, and then we could go to your barn to find the baby Jesus.”

  “Great idea.” A shepherd held up his staff to signal his approval. “Only Ingrid and whoever plays Joseph would have to be in the barn. They would be the only ones to be cold. Is Mr. Ansel going to be Joseph again?”

  “So you children only want me and Martha’s husband to get frostbite?” Ingrid teased.

  “No, no.” A chorus of sympathetic responses filled Martha and Sidney Ansel’s living room.

  “Couldn’t we please have it in the barn?” Plaintive requests rose from all the children.

  “It would make our pageant seem more realistic,” Martha conceded. “Let’s do the practices inside tonight. We only have one more rehearsal before our Christmas Eve presentation.” Martha went to the piano stool.

  Ingrid acknowledged Martha’s clever management of the situation, guiding the children to come up with the solution the pastor thought would work well for the community gathering on Christmas Eve.