_
As they pulled onto the Gibson’s yard, Annie couldn’t help but notice the sharp contrast between this place and theirs. This was also a large, frame house on top of a hill, but it had neatly trimmed bushes and shrubs and bright, green shutters. She saw there was a wheelchair ramp leading up to one of the side doors. When she and her father started toward the house, Sonny lingered behind. “Gotta check something’ under the hood,” he mumbled. He appeared uneasy, his mouth set in that twisted, disapproving way.
Matthew knocked on the door, to which came an immediate, cheery response. “C’mon in, the door’s open!” the voice rang out. They walked in tentatively, not accustomed to such open hospitality. “It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Winston,” their hostess said, smiling.” “Jake should be coming right along. Have some coffee and cake.”
Genevieve Gibson was an elderly woman, probably in her late sixties, at least. She was a rather rotund lady with plump, rosy cheeks and a warm, gracious smile. Her gray hair was done up neatly in a braided bun and there was a knotted net across her forehead. She managed to fuss over her guests quite well while sitting in her chair, rolling back and forth between the table and the counter, her limp, lifeless legs dragging along.
“This is my daughter, Annie,” Matthew said as he sat down at the table. “Ah, real coffee. We’ve had nothing but instant or restaurant stuff for days.”
“Well, there’s plenty more where that came from. If we run out, we’ll just make another pot!” Ginny smiled as she cut generous pieces of a two-layer, chocolate cake.
Just then, Jake came in with Sonny in tow. “Well, hello there, neighbor!” he called grinning. “You’d better cut another piece of cake, Gin, ‘cause we can’t have this young fella go hungry in own front yard. Pull up a chair there, missy,” he said to Annie.
“We didn’t come by to impose on you even more,” Matthew said between bites of Mrs. Gibson’s cake. “I just wanted to stop by to thank you for your kindness this morning. My boys just went crazy over that homemade bread.”
“I’m glad,” Ginny replied, “but was it enough? Jake tells me you have quite a family.”
“Yes, I sure do! Ten in all. My oldest, Matthew, Jr. is twenty-two and the baby, my little girl, was born in January.”
“Well, then, you’ll have plenty of cheap help!” Jake said, laughing.
“Yes I do, if any of us can figure out what to do. None of us know anything about farming except Sonny here. I hired him to help us get started.” Sonny looked up briefly in acknowledgment of the introduction and then went back to staring at his coffee.
Matthew continued. “You see, I ran my family’s business in New York. I never cared much for it but it was an obligation. My wife’s people were farmers back in Ireland. I met her during the war when I was stationed over there. Anyway, when I got the chance to move out here, I grabbed it!”
“But how did you ever get your hands on the deed to the old Weatherly place?” Jake asked with unconcealed curiosity. “I mean, that piece of paper had been tossed around for more than forty years. Last, we heard, some guy in Chicago owned it.”
“All I know is I sat down to a friendly poker game and after I won everything else, this chap puts the deed on the table. He said it was his good luck piece, bit it wasn’t that night!”
“Well, for mercy sakes!” Ginny exclaimed.
“I’ll be!” Jake whistled. “I can’t imagine anyone thinking that place is good luck. I bet it’s been owned by at least a dozen people since old man Weatherly’s nephew died in ‘31.”
“It hasn’t been farmed since?”
“Oh, it’s been worked by different folks through the years. Ronny Williamson and his boys rented it from that fella in Chicago up to two or three years ago, I guess. See, the owner let his boy take over the house for one summer and moved in with a bunch of his doped up, hippie friends. There was trouble over there one night – one kid died from an overdose and the sheriff came and carted them all away. We had a real bad flood that next spring and we heard that the owner got into trouble with the IRS. Ronny said he didn’t need the grief so he quit farmin’ it. And it hasn’t been touched since.”
“Well, I own it now and I aim to plant this spring, come hell or high water!”
Come hell or high water? Where did her father pick up that one, Annie wondered. She loved seeing him like this, so enthused and excited. She leaned against the wall by the hot air vent of the furnace. The fan was blowing and she could feel the warm air whirling around her legs. It felt so wonderful, but there was something she wanted even more that heat – a nice, clean bathroom.
“This cake looks delicious, but I was wondering if I could freshen up a bit first.”
“Oh, for goodness sake! Where are my manners? I’m sure that old house don’t have much in the way of facilities. The bathroom is down the hall on the right.”
Annie took her time. She peeled off her jacket and washed her hands and face, embarrassed by the dark smear she left on the towel. Oh, God, she thought, I will never take a porcelain toilet for granted again as long as I live. When she came out, she was startled to see Mrs. Gibson sitting alone.
“They started talkin’ farmin’ and your dad wanted to see Jake’s setup,” Mrs. Gibson explained.
“They said to tell you they’d stop in and get ya’ when they’re ready to leave.”
Annie circled the table and studied the country kitchen with much interest. It was the most comfortable, inviting room she had ever seen. It was old-fashioned with square, paneled cabinets and faded green linoleum on the counter tops that matched the floor. Ginny sat at a wide open-hung sink, already rinsing the coffee pot and dishes.
“You have a lovely home, Mrs. Gibson,” Annie said as she inhaled the wonderful aroma of the place. It was a blend of the sweet bakery smells, coffee grounds, bacon, and buttery toast and jelly. Annie slumped down in her chair and sighed. “It’s so warm and comfortable. I can’t believe that old wreck of a house of ours will ever be like this.”
“Please, call me Ginny – us being neighbors and all.” She rolled over to the table and folded her hands as though to signal her guest her undivided attention.
“Anyway, we’re on our way into town to buy supplies. I have no idea where to begin.”
“Who did all the work back home in New York:”
“My mother – well, sort of. I never did much a all. Good grief – now I’ll have to set up an entire household?”
It sounded preposterous when she said it aloud. And when Ginny started laughing, Annie couldn’t help but laugh, too. “I guess I’ll say I want ten of everything.”
“Well, Annie, what are you shopping for? Groceries? Things for the kitchen? Gracious me, I can just imagine what that old house must look like. The cleaning alone would be such a job.” The amazement that shone in her face told Annie that she understood the enormity of the task. “Your dad mentioned this morning that you were cooking over the fireplace, like a picnic or a barbecue. But for twelve people! For land sake, lucky you’re so young. You sure got a mountain sized job ahead of you.”
“Do you like it, Ginny? Living on a farm, I mean? I’m so used to people – a lot of people everywhere. I’m not sure I’ll like living out here so far away from – you know, everything!”
“Well, I guess it just comes natural for me and Jake. He was born here, lived his whole life right here on this land. I grew up on a farm, too. I guess farmin’ is the only life we know.”
“Are those your sons?” Annie asked as she looked at the faded, silver-framed portraits of two little boys on the wall above the large cabinet across from her. The pictures were in colorless, gray tones and looked quite old. “Where are they now?”
Ginny said nothing for a few moments. Annie was struck by the sudden sadness that cast a long shadow across her face. “They’re both dead,” she said as she, too, studied the faded pictures of her two young sons. “The river took ‘em – going on near 45 years now. Ben, the oldest, helped his dad set the catfish traps lots of times and he was such a good boy. Young Carl was more rambunctious and curious about things. He’d tag along with Ben ever’ where he went. I guess Carl got into some trouble and probably fell in. Ben must have tried to save him. There bodies were found together a few miles down stream.” She turned back to the sink and rinsed another cup and saucer.
“Sometimes, I can’t help thinking’ how different things would be if the boys were still alive. Like I said, this farm has been worked by Gibson men since it was first homesteaded in 1850’s. Jake is working past his prime because he just don’t know what else to do.” She patted her limp, useless legs. “Not only does Jake have to tend the farm but he has to take care of me and do a lot of housework.”
“What happened – I mean, was there an accident, or --”
“No, just old rheumatis’ I guess. Came on me the summer of ‘52. I was scared it was maybe polio or something, but it wasn't. They don’t hurt much, but they just don’t move. I just thank my lucky stars that my arms and hands still work good. As long as Jake sets down everything I need before he goes outside in the morning, I can still manage to cook and bake. Jake thinks I’m a good cook, but that’s just because he’s used to it.”
“Oh, no Ginny. This cake is marvelous! Do you think you could teach me how to bake things like this? I mean, you said yourself – I’ve got a lot to learn!”
“I’d be glad to help in anyway I can,” Ginny exclaimed. There was such sincerity in the voice that Annie knew she had found the perfect resource person. She had a million questions but just then her father called that they were ready to leave.
“It was so nice to sit and talk. Thank you so much for your help and your wonderful bathroom, and all that great food earlier this morning,” she said as she put on her jacket.
“Well, like I said, what are neighbors for? You can come back and we’ll talk some more. When you get to town, go to Bean’s Hardware Store. Lori Bean works in there and she can help you a lot, I’m sure. Now take care,” she called after her young visitor. “Come back to visit anytime – even it its just to use the bathroom!”
Actually, Annie felt a lot better. Ginny’s words “picnic or barbecue” stuck in her mind, as she thought that was a good place to start. She’d just have to remember what kinds of goodies Cook packed in those giant hampers when the family went to the park or shore. And there were things she needed for the baby, and cleaning supplies, like Ginny said. Lists. The secret to managing all this was lists
_
Unfortunately, the ride to town took less than ten minutes, no time to write down anything. She had several nicely labeled sheets for all the categories she could think of, but not much else. She took a long deep breath, trying not to feel so panicked again.
The bus rolled to a stop alongside the river front park they had seen yesterday. The two or three blocks of businesses were along this one street facing the river.
“If we’re gonna do any shopping,” Matthew said, “I’d better stop by the bank first.” He reached under one of the seats and pulled out a canvas bag full of cash and checks. Swinging the bag under his arm as he stepped off the bus, Matthew surveyed the little corner bank and smiled. “I think I’m just about to make somebody’s day,” he said.
He stepped inside and approached a barred teller window and addressed the bespectacled, gray-haired lady behind the counter. “Hello, I’m Matthew MacAlister Winston. My family just moved to a farm outside of town. I’d like to set up an account here. Do you suppose I could speak to your manager?”
The teller seemed a little miffed. “Mr. Winston, I’m sure that I can help you set up an account. If you deposit $200, you’ll get a box of free checks, you know. Mr. Strong is also the mayor of our little town. He is a very busy man.”
“I’m sure he is, but this is quite a substantial amount of money so I’d really like to meet the man and deal with him directly, at least the first time.”
“A substantial amount? Just how much are we discussing here, Mr. Winston?”
“Well,” Matthew answered evenly, “I have $40,000 in cash and several cashier’s checks.” He couldn’t help but smile when spilled coffee ran across the counter and the lady’s glasses nearly fell off when she jerked her head up.
Obviously determined to keep her composure, she casually wiped up the coffee and readjusted her glasses, saying, “I’m sure Mr. Strong would like to meet you and welcome you to our town. I’ll see if he can free some time to see you.”
As she spoke she was back peddling toward the door with the imposing sign which read, “Mr. Lewis J. Strong, Bank President” in bold letters. She excused herself and stepped inside. A few seconds later Matthew heard this rather loud “What?” blasting from Mr. Strong’s office. The teller reappeared, announcing, “Mr. Strong will see you now.”
The honorable Mayor Strong rose from his chair to shake Matthew’s hand, smiling broadly. They exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes while Matthew unceremoniously unzipped his bag and began piling his money on the bank president’s desk.
“I’m anxious to begin doing his business locally and thought the best way to handle it was with checks,” Matthew said.
“Well, of course,” Mr. Strong stammered, distracted by the rather impressive stack of $1000 bills. Matthew then took out the cashier’s checks. Mr. Strong was at a loss for words, something local folks would say was highly unusual.
He picked up one of the checks and scrutinized it carefully. “In order to protect my investors,” he said, wanting to appear professional and business-like, “I think I should call New York and verify these funds. No offense intended.”
“None taken. Go ahead. Call. Ask to speak to Bill Kaplan, one of the Vice-presidents at First City. The phone number is 789-5515 – that’s 212 area code, you know.”
Lewis Strong dialed the number. “Yes, hello…Yes, ma’am, this is Lewis Strong, President of the Shannontown Bank and Trust. I am calling about a manner concerning Mr. Matthew Winston…Yes, Matt Winston…Oh, I see. . . Really. . . No, that’s quite all right. I won’t be leaving a message…You’ve been very helpful.” He hung up the phone. “Now, Mr. Winston, what kind of an account would you like to set up with us today?”
Fifteen minutes later, Matthew emerged from the Shannontown Bank and Trust, complete with his box of free checks. “C’mon, you two. Let’s go spend some money!”
They walked to the hardware store. The faded sign read, “Andy Bean & Sons, Hardware and Lumber Yard.” There was a truck sitting at the curb with the same sign stenciled on the door but it also had a hand-written “For Sale” sign taped to the window. The place looked badly in need of repairs, considering the nature of their business.
Through the open gate they could see someone walking among the piles of boards, posts and plywood stacked in the decaying lumberyard. Matthew and Sonny headed out to the yard, which meant they expected Annie to go in and start shopping. By myself, she thought. What did she know about buying hard ware. And the place looked so small.
The instant she stepped in she realized there was no need to worry about the amount or variety of merchandise in this place. She had never seen anything like it! Every square inch of available space was covered. There were narrow aisles between shelves piled high with everything from tools to little ceramic knickknacks and music boxes. On the walls hung pots and pans, large basins and tubs, and clothes hampers. There were displays of everything from light fixtures and lamps to bikes and tricycles.
There was a young slender woman standing on a ladder sorting through some pots and pans on a high shelf in the corner. She was scolding someone, and Annie could hear a child crying. “Kevin!” she cried. “Why do you pick on your sister like that all the time? Now leave her alone!” Her voice was strained and she appeared upset.
Then she became aware of Annie standing nearby. She apologized as she descended the ladder and picked up the whimpering child. Annie saw that the woman’s face looked tired and worn, and her eyes were red and swollen. “Can I help you with something?” she asked, forcing a smile.
“Yes,” said Annie hesitantly. “Are you Lori Bean? You are? Well, my neighbor, Ginny Gibson, said you could help me.”
“She did? Well, that was nice of her. I’ll certainly try,” Lori said, looking somewhat confused. “We carry a little of everything here. What are you looking’ for?”
“That’s what I need – a little bit of everything. I’m Ann Winston. My family is moving into the old Weatherly place. Yes, I know, it’s not fit to live in, but my father is very determined. He’s outside right now speaking with your husband. We need so many things. You see, there’s 12 of us.”
“Oh, my goodness,” Lori murmured, letting the child slide off her hip. “So you’ve come in to buy supplies? Where would you like to start?”
“Well, I guess cleaning supplies.”
“Like mops, brooms, er-- buckets and things? All that stuff is over here. How about soap and cleansers?” Not wishing to appear totally ignorant, Annie smiled and nodded agreeably to everything. Before long, there were piles of supplies on and around the counter.
At one point, Lori stopped and looked Annie straight in the eye. “I feel I must tell you something,” she said. “There is a K-Mart in Dubuque. Stuff is a lot cheaper there.”
“No, no,” Annie said as she studied a package of kitchen utensils. “I appreciate your honesty, but I see no reason to drive all that way when we can buy everything here.”
Outside, Matthew and Sonny approached the man working in the yard. “Are you Charlie Bean?” Matthew called to him. “Mr. Lewis Strong sent me.”
The man’s face turned ashen. “Yes sir, I am. Can I help you with something?”
“Well yes, I believe you can. I’m Matthew Winston. And this is my hired hand, Sonny Jackson. I recently acquired the Weatherly farm. Guess you know the place, judging by your reaction. Anyway, I need to get the place habitable as soon as possible. And Mr. Strong mentioned you were quite capable of helping us with renovations.”
Charlie instantly relaxed. “Jeez, I thought you were bill collectors or IRS. Anyway, I can sure do all that stuff for ya’. But it’s only fair to tell ya’ that there’s bigger outfits in Dubuque that’d probably have everything in stock. I mean, I’ll have to go there myself to get a lot of the supplies.”
“Sure, I realize that, Charlie.” Matthew sat down on a pile of 2x4’s and lit a cigarette. “No, I’d rather deal with you than some outfit twenty miles away. I’ll pay you to handle all that. Of course, it will require a lot of your time for the next few weeks, if you can manage the time away from the store.”
Charlie looked away and grinned sheepishly like Matthew had just told a funny joke. “I don’t think you have to worry about that, Mr. Winston. I’d be tickled t’death to sink my teeth into a real back-breakin’ job. You came along at the right time.”
“Well, good!” Matthew said, also smiling broadly. “Mr. Strong certainly gave you an excellent recommendation. But frankly, you’re a little younger than I expected.”
“Well, my granddad worked his whole life in this here store and my daddy after that. He died real sudden like a couple of years ago and left the place to Mama and us boys. She’s too old to run the place and my brothers all went other places. So that leaves me to try to keep this place goin’.” He wasn’t smiling anymore.
“OK, then. It’s settled,” Matthew said, standing up and reaching for his wallet. “Here’s five hundred dollars cash so you know I’m serious about this. I just need a house that’s safe and decent for my family.” They started walking toward the store. “How soon can you start? If you’re not doing anything this afternoon, you could come out and look the place over. You should see it,” he said, shaking his head. “I would even know where to begin.”
Sonny left Matthew and Charlie behind to talk about furnaces and ductwork and took his own list inside the store. He walked in to find Annie and Lori chatting away about everything from potato peelers to diaper rash. When Lori started to ask him if he needed help, Annie explained who he was.
“Ain’t real friendly, is he,” observed Lori.
“No, he’s not,” Annie said, nearly whispering, “But believe me, he’s helping us a lot. Without him, we couldn’t make it. Anyway, where were we? Oh, yes, about those canisters up there.” She was pointing to a display of old-fashioned crock canisters, nearly hidden on a high shelf. “Ginny Gibson has some just like those in her kitchen and I’d like some, too.”
“OK, I’d be glad to fetch ‘em down but they’re heavy suckers. Tupperware makes some real nice ones – come in three different colors.” She placed the ladder into position. “Tupperware?” she said again noticing her customer’s blank expression. “You know, hard plastic storage containers and stuff. It’s indestructible. Can’t it buy in stores – gotta buy it at parties in people’s houses. You know – Tupperware parties? Well,” she murmured to herself. “I didn’t think there was anyone in the civilized world that didn’t know about Tupperware.”
By the time Charlie and Matthew came in, Lori was standing behind her antiquated cash register, tallying the total. “That’s $324.73, sir,” Lori winced, appearing almost apologetic, but Matthew’s expression remained unchanged and unperturbed.
“There you are, Mrs. Bean. It was a real pleasure doing business with you. The first of many, I’m sure.”
After everything was loaded, Charlie hoisted his boy onto his shoulders and Lori swung the little girl across her hip. The little family escorted the Winston’s out to the bus.
“Okay, Charlie, we’ll expect you after lunch, right? Oh, I guess you won’t be needing this.” Matthew reached inside the truck and ripped off the “For Sale” sign. Everyone laughed.
The next stop was the grocery store. Annie intended to have some lists for here also, but the page was blank. There was no need to worry. Sonny went up and down the aisles, grabbing whole arm loads of everything.
Matthew was dispatched to the Grill and Pup to order twenty hamburgers, shakes, and a bag full of fries. He chuckled at the now familiar reaction of the waitress and nearby spectators when he explained who he was, where he intended to live, and why he needed such a large quantity of food. After he ordered, he went into the adjoining bar.
The smiling, round-faced bartender introduced himself as the proprietor of the place, Billy O’Rielly. Since any stranger is apt to be noticed, Matthew was asked to recount his story one more time, but this time over a glass of foaming draft beer. Billy listened attentively but instead of looking at Matthew with the usual shocked and amazed stare, he just stood there and shook his head sadly. “Well, what the hell took ya’ so long? Should have come to your senses a long time ago,” he said with mocked solemnity and then broke out in uproarious laughter as his great red cheeks became even redder.
An half-hour later, Sonny pulled the bus to the curb in front of the store and instructed Annie to fetch him out. She found her father sitting at the bar talking with Billy as though they were life long friends. “C‘mon, Dad,” Annie said. “We‘d better get back. Those boys have been alone out there for quite awhile.
Matthew slapped some money on the bar. “Billy, I intend to be one of your best customers.”
“Good,” laughed Billy, “cause I got a lot of regular customers, but they ain’t all paying ones.” He waved good-bye with his bar towel.
Matthew chattered happily all the way home. “Everyone we met today were really nice, weren’t they?” he said. “I’m going to enjoy spending my money here.”
Sonny said nothing as he put the motor in gear and headed out of town, trying to maneuver the bus down the spongy roads. Annie wasn’t listening to father either. She found herself staring at her hands. They were soft and manicured. No wonder Lori Bean suggested several pairs of Playtex gloves. Ginny and Lori’s were worn and callused. Is that what it takes for a woman to survive out here? Could I ever be like them, she wondered. Do I want to be? Yes, she thought, somewhat dubiously. She recognized the strengths and earthy wisdom in these women and yearned to have those qualities herself. She also realized that wishing for something is a lot different than actually having it.
Chapter 11
_ _ _ _
Chapter 9
_
Those momentary feelings of optimism faded as they trooped back to the house. Walking with slow, muffled steps and heads hanging with an occasional panicked glance passing between them, they were led back to their house of horrors like the fabled sheep being led to the slaughter.
As they neared the back door, when most of them were wondering how their situation could possibly be any worse, a large savage-looking dog blocked their path.
Sonny stepped forward. “Get back!” he ordered, quiet but empathetic. “Move back slow – no sudden moves. Matthew, lean down real easy like and pick up one of that 2x4 and hand it to me, real slow like.” Everyone did as they were told. “Nice doggie,” Sonny kept saying. “Nice doggie.” He reached into his jacket pocket and took out a half-eaten sandwich. He tore off a little piece and threw it toward the dog. “Nice doggie. No one’s gonna hurt ya’. You hungry? Yeah, I bet you are. Good stuff, aye?”
The animal crouched to sniff at the crust thrown its way and then ate it. Sonny drew nearer until he was so close he could touch it, but he didn’t. He threw the last bit of food. The dog looked at him quizzically for a moment, then gulped it down in one swallow and ran away.
“Where’d she go?” asked Peter with sincere concern.
“Ah, who the hell cares,” Thomas said, picking up the board that Sonny had cast aside. “Mangy old mutt better stay away from here.”
“She’s a bitch with a litter around here somewhere,” Sonny said. “Just don’t go poking under porches n’ stuff. It’s hard telling where she put her pups.”
He led them through the back entrance through the foyer into the living room. He appeared undaunted, but the others were shaken. Annie felt sick again, standing in the middle of all the rubble. She was afraid she was going to cry. “You heard what Daddy said, don’t go near that stairway,” she cried. “And stay away from those dirty chairs and things. John, go check Joey and the baby. If they’re awake, stay with them. No, wait!” she screamed, remembering that dog. “Mack or Andrew should go with you.”
“Just hang on a minute,” Sonny said. “This room is in the best shape. I think we should start out in here.” He crawled into the fireplace and peered up the chimney.
“Sure,” agreed Matthew. “The fireplace must work. Looks like some bum came through and used it recently. The windows are still intact or boarded up well. We all have sleeping bags so we can camp out right here in this room until the rest of the house is habitable.” He made it sound so simple, but his children were not buying it, judging by the round of moans and groans.
“Habitable? When? How?” Annie exploded, glaring at her father. “How can we possibly make this run-down, drafty old house ever fit to live in? Since when do you know how to do plumbing and electrical work?”
“I don’t, but we can hire people who do,” Matthew said, that maddening eternal optimism radiating from his face. “We’ll hire crews of plumbers, electricians, and carpenters. We can get this place livable in a few weeks, right Sonny?”
If Matthew wanted confirmation for his glowing predictions, Sonny did nothing to provide it. “Well, it’ll take a lot of work and a lot of money,” was all he said.
“Yeah,” jeered Mack, “and I’m just sure you’ll be real happy to help my father with the money part.” Sonny turned away and didn’t respond so Mack went on. “Besides, I’m sure there’s a decent hotel within fifty miles of here where we can stay until this dump is renovated. Two or three weeks? Ha! No way!”
“Oh, yes, there’s a way,” Matthew retorted, “and you won’t be sitting on your ass in any motel either. This is not New York, boys, where it’s considered improper to get your hands dirty. We’d be the laughing stock of this whole town if we sit around while someone else does the work when we can do some of it ourselves. Now come on, let’s get to work.”
Matthew and Sonny began discussing how they should proceed. Work assignments were doled out. There didn’t appear to be anything of any value left in the room so everything needed to be hauled outside and piled away from the house. Luke, Thomas, and the little boys would do that. Johnny and Peter were dispatched to gather firewood. Sonny took Mack and Andrew back to the bus to begin unloading. If Sonny heard Mack’s incessant grumbling, he didn’t pay any attention to it. He was having difficulty himself, trudging through the mud trying to carry the bulky luggage.
“Man, this is stupid,” he announced, throwing down his load on the porch steps.
“For once we agree on something,” sneered Mack.
“But wouldn’t it be impossible to get the bus up here?” worried Andrew. “It’d never get through that muddy part.”
“Oh, but I bet our Boy Wonder here can think of something,” Mack quipped.
Sonny said nothing as he scouted around until he found some planks and a wooden door. He picked up the door and motioned for the others to bring the rest. He positioned them across the sinkhole. Scraping the mud off his hands, he hoisted himself into the driver’s seat and started the bus.
He didn’t acknowledge Annie who was in the back of the bus, trying to bundle up the baby and Joey to get them out before the ride began.
“Don’t worry,” Sonny drawled. “Either we sink, or we won’t. But if you want to walk through that mud hole again, be my guest.”
Ann’s feet were already cold and wet from the mud inside her shoes. “Okay, then, if you’re sure it’s safe. I mean, the worst that could happen is we’ll have to walk part way if the bus gets bogged down, right?”
Sonny said nothing as he positioned the bus to point straight down the driveway. He gunned it and slammed down the muddy track. The bus swayed and groaned but the planks worked to maintain traction. Keeping a steady speed, he coaxed the bus up the hill. It was three-fourths of the way up before it ground to a halt. A brief but hearty cheer went up from the spectators. They all pitched in and had it unloaded within an hour.
A creaky, iron hand-pump by the well was functional so they were at least able to rinse off the worst of the mud and grime. Peter brought a cup and filled it to drink. “Oh, phew! This is awful!” He spat it out. “It’s poison!”
Sonny splashed some water into his cupped hands and brought it to his mouth. “Ha!” he hooted. “You people been drinking city water so long you don’t know the good stuff.” He filled the cup and offered it to Danny.
The boy peered into the cup. “If it’s such good water, why is it so red?” he asked.
“It’s iron and minerals. You boys will never have to take vitamins or nothing’ as long as you drink this stuff.” No one was convinced. One by one they looked at the cup of clay-colored, filmy water and decided to opt for soda or milk.
There was a warm fire crackling by this time and cribs were set up near the fireplace. Sonny produced a large black cast iron pot from one of his supply trunks and prepared a wonderful pot of stew. Everyone say on their sleeping bags and ate quietly. Their bodies were weary but the dark shadowy room and strange assortment of noises kept most sitting upright until weariness overcame them. One by one, they succumbed into a deep sleep.
“Guess we didn’t have to worry about excess energy tonight, did we?” Matthew mused as he moved among the heaps, tucking in the little ones. “I’m proud of my boys tonight,” he said. “They had all worked hard with less complaining than I expected.”
Annie moved around the room, too, picking up paper dishes and things. She trembled every time a hard gust of wind shook the house. It was though the place was alive as it shuddered and groaned against the rainstorm. Rationalizing that the house had stood up to such storms before, she crawled into her bag and settled into a comfortable spot. She watched as the light of the fire danced on the walls and ceiling, silhouetting the bowed figures of Matthew and Sonny huddled by the fireplace. She tried to concentrate on they were staying to drown out the whining wind and pounding rain.
Matthew talked about all the plans he had for this place. He was anxious to get machinery and livestock, and do some “real farming”. Sonny listened for a while but then said, “I don’t think you have any idea how much work has to be done before one seed is planted.”
Matthew reached over and tapped out his pipe. “Yes,” he sighed, “I know what you’re saying. I guess I just have to be patient. But now that I’m here – now that I’ve seen this place – why, it’s even better than I hoped.”
Annie smiled. Here they were, sleeping on a dirty plank floor in this run-down dump of a house on a dark and stormy night in the middle of nowhere, and her father is so excited he can’t even sleep though he must be exhausted. Oh God, watch over us, she prayed. Keep us safe and warm, and most of all, keep my father from killing himself.
She tried to hear more of what they were saying, but the hum of their voices, the rain and wind, the creaking and groaning of the old house blended together to make a strange lullaby so that soon she slipped off into a deep, deep sleep.
Annie awakened gradually, recognizing the sounds and smells surrounding her. Coffee. Ah, that’s what she wanted, even if it was brewed from that awful water the boys told her about. Sonny sat by the fire, perched on an upside down bucket, cooking what smelled like bacon. The rain and wind were gone now, and the old house was still. She thought the baby must have slept through the night, but then she saw empty bottles. Daddy or possibly Sonny must have taken care of her. She was thankful because she felt rested after a full night of sleep.
Sonny turned to see that Annie was stirring. She was pulling on her coat and boots hurriedly. “Hey!” he called, “you’d better take some Kleenex or something.”
Man, she thought, this guy really thinks he knows it all. The idea that he would take such liberties in personnel manners irked her. She rushed out through the foyer and stepped out onto the back porch. She couldn’t help but pause to survey the view. It was a crisp, clear morning and the sun was rising out of the valley. Even with the weeds and garbage strewn all around her, it was lovely. Wading through the mud and brush, she rushed to the dilapidated outhouse and wished she was one of the boys and take care of business behind a nearby tree.
She lingered on the porch, listening to the morning sounds. After such a frightening night, she could hardly believe it was so tranquil. The river couldn’t be seen because of the screening trees. She wondered if she could see it from upstairs. She climbed an outside stairway which led to the second floor balcony. Everything looks so different from up here, she thought. There was less contour and severity. Still, the wall of fur trees stood as a tall curtain until she maneuvered herself to the far right corner where she could see over the rocky place they had found last night. The river and valley came into full view.
The sun bathed everything in rich hues of gold, and even the large puddles of standing water from the spring melt were transformed into lovely, blue reflecting pools. And the river, though it was probably more than a mile away, shimmered in the morning light, looking much less intimidating that it did last night.
She turned and saw there was a doorway that led into a bedroom. It was connected to another bedroom, which Annie guessed, judging by the few remaining snatches of pink and blue wallpaper, was a nursery. These were the perfect rooms for her and the baby. Plus, it had the best view in the place.
In the hallway, she found the back stairway to the kitchen, which would further substantiate her claim to this corner of the house. She explored on, finding there were four bedrooms on each side of the house. Actually, they’d have more room here than they did back home. Home. The word stuck in her mind like it was riveted there. Was this place home now? Most of the doors and windows were gone, and there were large gapping holes in the walls and floors. Never in a million years could this be home.
She turned her attention to the sounds of noisy confusion filtering up from the living room. Carefully, she descended the stairway, such as it was, and entered the living room just as Matthew was explaining how he had gone over to the Gibson's and was given generous portions of eggs, bacon, and bread.
“His wife is a really nice lady,” he was saying. “Should see her pantry – just loaded with all kinds of food. Look at this bread. It’s homemade!”
“Man,” Luke whistled, grabbing his share like everyone else, “these farmer’s wives sure know how to cook, don’t they?”
“Yeah,” laughed John, “and now Annie’s a ‘farmer’s daughter’ so she’ll have to learn how to make all this good stuff – like baking bread and pies and stuff.” They all snickered.
“Ha!” retorted Annie. “Baking bread for you guys would be a full time job – half a dozen loaves a day, at least.” She squatted down on the floor and picnicked with the others. Never had eggs and bacon tasted better.
The baby was changed and fed, and breakfast was cleared away. It was time for a planning session.
“Obviously,” Matthew began, “some of us need to go into town. We need a lot of supplies and I need to set up an account at the bank and start talking to contractors – unless you want to live in this room indefinitely.” Of course, the response to that statement was unanimous. “OK then, I guess Sonny, Annie, and I will go.”
“Hey! That’s not fair!” Thomas protested, loudly echoed by several others. “Why can’t we all go, or at least some of us? C’mon, there’s nothing to do out here!”
“Oh, yes, there is. Just look around. There’s plenty to do!” insisted their father “You can start by hauling out garbage and junk from the rest of the house. Just put it on the pile we started last night. We’ll burn it later.”
“What?” Mack complained. “You’re just gonna leave us out here in the middle of nowhere with no phone, no food, no nothing’ -- except work? What are we? A chain gang?”
“Mack, shut up!” shouted his father. “What else is there to do? You said so yourself – no TV, no place to go. You boys to get started. We’ll be back by lunch, okay?”
No, it wasn’t okay. The arguing continued. Sonny slipped away, picking up the pan of grease and scraps. He went outdoors and began looking for an opening underneath the porch. Peter and Danny were watching him, peeking through the broken windows in the office.
Sonny tried to coax the stray dog from her hiding place. Not seeing any sign of her, he put the skillet down on the ground away from the house and stood back and waited. It didn’t take long. The appetizing smell was too much for her. She came out, crouching on her belly toward the food, keeping a watchful eye on the stranger lingering close by. When she began to eat, Sonny crept near her until he reached out and touched her.
“C’mon, boys,” called Sonny quietly. “Let her get to know you.”
The boys were ecstatic. They came running out. “Just take it slow and quiet,” Sonny said. They touched her timidly. She tolerated it but as soon as the food was gone, she left.
“Do you think she’s got a name, Sonny?” Peter asked shyly. It was the first time the boy had actually spoken directly to him.
“Nah, probably not,” Sonny replied. “But you can name the puppies when she brings `em out if you want.”
“Oh boy!” the little ones shouted with glee. Never in their fondest dreams did they ever expect to have a dog, much less one with puppies.
“Don’t you boys go outside alone and don’t go poking around looking for those pups, ya’ here?” Sonny reminded them. “She’ll turn mean real quick if she thinks someone’s messin’ around with her babies. You understand?”
“But how we’re ever gonna see `em?” Danny asked.
“She’ll keep `em hidden until she’s good ` n ready to bring `em out. That won’t be until their eyes are open,” Sonny explained. He picked up the skillet and started back toward the house, the two little boys close behind.
Then there was a loud slam of the door and there stood Annie. She looked at them and the empty skillet and surmised what had happened. “My God, Sonny,” she cried. “You fed it? You let them out here with that vicious dog?”
“She’s not vic’us!” retorted Danny. “She let us touch her a little.”
“And we get to name the puppies, too, when she brings `em out, right Sonny?” Peter said, excitement quivering in his voice.
“Boys, that is a very dangerous animal,” Annie insisted, still glaring at Sonny.
“We know, we know – Sonny told us. Don’t go out alone and don’t poke around looking’ for the puppies,” Danny said. “We’ll see the puppies when she brings `em out.”
“And that won’t be until their eyes are open,” Peter added, sounding like an expert.
“Well, just so you’re careful,” Annie called as they scampered past her. She wanted to yell at Sonny but it was useless.
It was time to get started for town. They boarded the bus, Annie yelling out last minute instructions over the roar of the motor. “Wash all the pots and pans from this morning. You’d better get more firewood, and don’t let Joey close to the fire. And Peter and Danny – stay by the big boys and don’t go out alone.”
And then they were gone, fairly bulldozing their way down the driveway.
“Well,” Andrew said leading the way back to the house. “We’d better get to work.”
“Jeez!” Mack spat hotly. “Maybe you’re gonna swallow that bullshit, but I’m not! To hell with that crap!” He picked up a piece of wood and slammed it down on the ground. His brothers stared at the splintered wood and said nothing.
Once they turned onto the main road, Annie began to feel panicked again. She knew once they got into town she would be expected to make decisions about things of which she knew nothing.
She got a reprieve when Matthew insisted on stopping at the Gibson's to thank them for their kindness that morning. He had tried to pay them before, but they had refused. Plus, he wanted Annie to meet Mrs. Gibson. “You’re going to really like her, Annie,” he said.
“Just remember,” Sonny sighed, “you told the boys we’d be back by noon. Sometimes these little visits can go on and on.” It was obvious he would rather keep going into town.
Chapter 10
_ _ _ _
Those momentary feelings of optimism faded as they trooped back to the house. Walking with slow, muffled steps and heads hanging with an occasional panicked glance passing between them, they were led back to their house of horrors like the fabled sheep being led to the slaughter.
As they neared the back door, when most of them were wondering how their situation could possibly be any worse, a large savage-looking dog blocked their path.
Sonny stepped forward. “Get back!” he ordered, quiet but empathetic. “Move back slow – no sudden moves. Matthew, lean down real easy like and pick up one of that 2x4 and hand it to me, real slow like.” Everyone did as they were told. “Nice doggie,” Sonny kept saying. “Nice doggie.” He reached into his jacket pocket and took out a half-eaten sandwich. He tore off a little piece and threw it toward the dog. “Nice doggie. No one’s gonna hurt ya’. You hungry? Yeah, I bet you are. Good stuff, aye?”
The animal crouched to sniff at the crust thrown its way and then ate it. Sonny drew nearer until he was so close he could touch it, but he didn’t. He threw the last bit of food. The dog looked at him quizzically for a moment, then gulped it down in one swallow and ran away.
“Where’d she go?” asked Peter with sincere concern.
“Ah, who the hell cares,” Thomas said, picking up the board that Sonny had cast aside. “Mangy old mutt better stay away from here.”
“She’s a bitch with a litter around here somewhere,” Sonny said. “Just don’t go poking under porches n’ stuff. It’s hard telling where she put her pups.”
He led them through the back entrance through the foyer into the living room. He appeared undaunted, but the others were shaken. Annie felt sick again, standing in the middle of all the rubble. She was afraid she was going to cry. “You heard what Daddy said, don’t go near that stairway,” she cried. “And stay away from those dirty chairs and things. John, go check Joey and the baby. If they’re awake, stay with them. No, wait!” she screamed, remembering that dog. “Mack or Andrew should go with you.”
“Just hang on a minute,” Sonny said. “This room is in the best shape. I think we should start out in here.” He crawled into the fireplace and peered up the chimney.
“Sure,” agreed Matthew. “The fireplace must work. Looks like some bum came through and used it recently. The windows are still intact or boarded up well. We all have sleeping bags so we can camp out right here in this room until the rest of the house is habitable.” He made it sound so simple, but his children were not buying it, judging by the round of moans and groans.
“Habitable? When? How?” Annie exploded, glaring at her father. “How can we possibly make this run-down, drafty old house ever fit to live in? Since when do you know how to do plumbing and electrical work?”
“I don’t, but we can hire people who do,” Matthew said, that maddening eternal optimism radiating from his face. “We’ll hire crews of plumbers, electricians, and carpenters. We can get this place livable in a few weeks, right Sonny?”
If Matthew wanted confirmation for his glowing predictions, Sonny did nothing to provide it. “Well, it’ll take a lot of work and a lot of money,” was all he said.
“Yeah,” jeered Mack, “and I’m just sure you’ll be real happy to help my father with the money part.” Sonny turned away and didn’t respond so Mack went on. “Besides, I’m sure there’s a decent hotel within fifty miles of here where we can stay until this dump is renovated. Two or three weeks? Ha! No way!”
“Oh, yes, there’s a way,” Matthew retorted, “and you won’t be sitting on your ass in any motel either. This is not New York, boys, where it’s considered improper to get your hands dirty. We’d be the laughing stock of this whole town if we sit around while someone else does the work when we can do some of it ourselves. Now come on, let’s get to work.”
Matthew and Sonny began discussing how they should proceed. Work assignments were doled out. There didn’t appear to be anything of any value left in the room so everything needed to be hauled outside and piled away from the house. Luke, Thomas, and the little boys would do that. Johnny and Peter were dispatched to gather firewood. Sonny took Mack and Andrew back to the bus to begin unloading. If Sonny heard Mack’s incessant grumbling, he didn’t pay any attention to it. He was having difficulty himself, trudging through the mud trying to carry the bulky luggage.
“Man, this is stupid,” he announced, throwing down his load on the porch steps.
“For once we agree on something,” sneered Mack.
“But wouldn’t it be impossible to get the bus up here?” worried Andrew. “It’d never get through that muddy part.”
“Oh, but I bet our Boy Wonder here can think of something,” Mack quipped.
Sonny said nothing as he scouted around until he found some planks and a wooden door. He picked up the door and motioned for the others to bring the rest. He positioned them across the sinkhole. Scraping the mud off his hands, he hoisted himself into the driver’s seat and started the bus.
He didn’t acknowledge Annie who was in the back of the bus, trying to bundle up the baby and Joey to get them out before the ride began.
“Don’t worry,” Sonny drawled. “Either we sink, or we won’t. But if you want to walk through that mud hole again, be my guest.”
Ann’s feet were already cold and wet from the mud inside her shoes. “Okay, then, if you’re sure it’s safe. I mean, the worst that could happen is we’ll have to walk part way if the bus gets bogged down, right?”
Sonny said nothing as he positioned the bus to point straight down the driveway. He gunned it and slammed down the muddy track. The bus swayed and groaned but the planks worked to maintain traction. Keeping a steady speed, he coaxed the bus up the hill. It was three-fourths of the way up before it ground to a halt. A brief but hearty cheer went up from the spectators. They all pitched in and had it unloaded within an hour.
A creaky, iron hand-pump by the well was functional so they were at least able to rinse off the worst of the mud and grime. Peter brought a cup and filled it to drink. “Oh, phew! This is awful!” He spat it out. “It’s poison!”
Sonny splashed some water into his cupped hands and brought it to his mouth. “Ha!” he hooted. “You people been drinking city water so long you don’t know the good stuff.” He filled the cup and offered it to Danny.
The boy peered into the cup. “If it’s such good water, why is it so red?” he asked.
“It’s iron and minerals. You boys will never have to take vitamins or nothing’ as long as you drink this stuff.” No one was convinced. One by one they looked at the cup of clay-colored, filmy water and decided to opt for soda or milk.
There was a warm fire crackling by this time and cribs were set up near the fireplace. Sonny produced a large black cast iron pot from one of his supply trunks and prepared a wonderful pot of stew. Everyone say on their sleeping bags and ate quietly. Their bodies were weary but the dark shadowy room and strange assortment of noises kept most sitting upright until weariness overcame them. One by one, they succumbed into a deep sleep.
“Guess we didn’t have to worry about excess energy tonight, did we?” Matthew mused as he moved among the heaps, tucking in the little ones. “I’m proud of my boys tonight,” he said. “They had all worked hard with less complaining than I expected.”
Annie moved around the room, too, picking up paper dishes and things. She trembled every time a hard gust of wind shook the house. It was though the place was alive as it shuddered and groaned against the rainstorm. Rationalizing that the house had stood up to such storms before, she crawled into her bag and settled into a comfortable spot. She watched as the light of the fire danced on the walls and ceiling, silhouetting the bowed figures of Matthew and Sonny huddled by the fireplace. She tried to concentrate on they were staying to drown out the whining wind and pounding rain.
Matthew talked about all the plans he had for this place. He was anxious to get machinery and livestock, and do some “real farming”. Sonny listened for a while but then said, “I don’t think you have any idea how much work has to be done before one seed is planted.”
Matthew reached over and tapped out his pipe. “Yes,” he sighed, “I know what you’re saying. I guess I just have to be patient. But now that I’m here – now that I’ve seen this place – why, it’s even better than I hoped.”
Annie smiled. Here they were, sleeping on a dirty plank floor in this run-down dump of a house on a dark and stormy night in the middle of nowhere, and her father is so excited he can’t even sleep though he must be exhausted. Oh God, watch over us, she prayed. Keep us safe and warm, and most of all, keep my father from killing himself.
She tried to hear more of what they were saying, but the hum of their voices, the rain and wind, the creaking and groaning of the old house blended together to make a strange lullaby so that soon she slipped off into a deep, deep sleep.
Annie awakened gradually, recognizing the sounds and smells surrounding her. Coffee. Ah, that’s what she wanted, even if it was brewed from that awful water the boys told her about. Sonny sat by the fire, perched on an upside down bucket, cooking what smelled like bacon. The rain and wind were gone now, and the old house was still. She thought the baby must have slept through the night, but then she saw empty bottles. Daddy or possibly Sonny must have taken care of her. She was thankful because she felt rested after a full night of sleep.
Sonny turned to see that Annie was stirring. She was pulling on her coat and boots hurriedly. “Hey!” he called, “you’d better take some Kleenex or something.”
Man, she thought, this guy really thinks he knows it all. The idea that he would take such liberties in personnel manners irked her. She rushed out through the foyer and stepped out onto the back porch. She couldn’t help but pause to survey the view. It was a crisp, clear morning and the sun was rising out of the valley. Even with the weeds and garbage strewn all around her, it was lovely. Wading through the mud and brush, she rushed to the dilapidated outhouse and wished she was one of the boys and take care of business behind a nearby tree.
She lingered on the porch, listening to the morning sounds. After such a frightening night, she could hardly believe it was so tranquil. The river couldn’t be seen because of the screening trees. She wondered if she could see it from upstairs. She climbed an outside stairway which led to the second floor balcony. Everything looks so different from up here, she thought. There was less contour and severity. Still, the wall of fur trees stood as a tall curtain until she maneuvered herself to the far right corner where she could see over the rocky place they had found last night. The river and valley came into full view.
The sun bathed everything in rich hues of gold, and even the large puddles of standing water from the spring melt were transformed into lovely, blue reflecting pools. And the river, though it was probably more than a mile away, shimmered in the morning light, looking much less intimidating that it did last night.
She turned and saw there was a doorway that led into a bedroom. It was connected to another bedroom, which Annie guessed, judging by the few remaining snatches of pink and blue wallpaper, was a nursery. These were the perfect rooms for her and the baby. Plus, it had the best view in the place.
In the hallway, she found the back stairway to the kitchen, which would further substantiate her claim to this corner of the house. She explored on, finding there were four bedrooms on each side of the house. Actually, they’d have more room here than they did back home. Home. The word stuck in her mind like it was riveted there. Was this place home now? Most of the doors and windows were gone, and there were large gapping holes in the walls and floors. Never in a million years could this be home.
She turned her attention to the sounds of noisy confusion filtering up from the living room. Carefully, she descended the stairway, such as it was, and entered the living room just as Matthew was explaining how he had gone over to the Gibson's and was given generous portions of eggs, bacon, and bread.
“His wife is a really nice lady,” he was saying. “Should see her pantry – just loaded with all kinds of food. Look at this bread. It’s homemade!”
“Man,” Luke whistled, grabbing his share like everyone else, “these farmer’s wives sure know how to cook, don’t they?”
“Yeah,” laughed John, “and now Annie’s a ‘farmer’s daughter’ so she’ll have to learn how to make all this good stuff – like baking bread and pies and stuff.” They all snickered.
“Ha!” retorted Annie. “Baking bread for you guys would be a full time job – half a dozen loaves a day, at least.” She squatted down on the floor and picnicked with the others. Never had eggs and bacon tasted better.
The baby was changed and fed, and breakfast was cleared away. It was time for a planning session.
“Obviously,” Matthew began, “some of us need to go into town. We need a lot of supplies and I need to set up an account at the bank and start talking to contractors – unless you want to live in this room indefinitely.” Of course, the response to that statement was unanimous. “OK then, I guess Sonny, Annie, and I will go.”
“Hey! That’s not fair!” Thomas protested, loudly echoed by several others. “Why can’t we all go, or at least some of us? C’mon, there’s nothing to do out here!”
“Oh, yes, there is. Just look around. There’s plenty to do!” insisted their father “You can start by hauling out garbage and junk from the rest of the house. Just put it on the pile we started last night. We’ll burn it later.”
“What?” Mack complained. “You’re just gonna leave us out here in the middle of nowhere with no phone, no food, no nothing’ -- except work? What are we? A chain gang?”
“Mack, shut up!” shouted his father. “What else is there to do? You said so yourself – no TV, no place to go. You boys to get started. We’ll be back by lunch, okay?”
No, it wasn’t okay. The arguing continued. Sonny slipped away, picking up the pan of grease and scraps. He went outdoors and began looking for an opening underneath the porch. Peter and Danny were watching him, peeking through the broken windows in the office.
Sonny tried to coax the stray dog from her hiding place. Not seeing any sign of her, he put the skillet down on the ground away from the house and stood back and waited. It didn’t take long. The appetizing smell was too much for her. She came out, crouching on her belly toward the food, keeping a watchful eye on the stranger lingering close by. When she began to eat, Sonny crept near her until he reached out and touched her.
“C’mon, boys,” called Sonny quietly. “Let her get to know you.”
The boys were ecstatic. They came running out. “Just take it slow and quiet,” Sonny said. They touched her timidly. She tolerated it but as soon as the food was gone, she left.
“Do you think she’s got a name, Sonny?” Peter asked shyly. It was the first time the boy had actually spoken directly to him.
“Nah, probably not,” Sonny replied. “But you can name the puppies when she brings `em out if you want.”
“Oh boy!” the little ones shouted with glee. Never in their fondest dreams did they ever expect to have a dog, much less one with puppies.
“Don’t you boys go outside alone and don’t go poking around looking for those pups, ya’ here?” Sonny reminded them. “She’ll turn mean real quick if she thinks someone’s messin’ around with her babies. You understand?”
“But how we’re ever gonna see `em?” Danny asked.
“She’ll keep `em hidden until she’s good ` n ready to bring `em out. That won’t be until their eyes are open,” Sonny explained. He picked up the skillet and started back toward the house, the two little boys close behind.
Then there was a loud slam of the door and there stood Annie. She looked at them and the empty skillet and surmised what had happened. “My God, Sonny,” she cried. “You fed it? You let them out here with that vicious dog?”
“She’s not vic’us!” retorted Danny. “She let us touch her a little.”
“And we get to name the puppies, too, when she brings `em out, right Sonny?” Peter said, excitement quivering in his voice.
“Boys, that is a very dangerous animal,” Annie insisted, still glaring at Sonny.
“We know, we know – Sonny told us. Don’t go out alone and don’t poke around looking’ for the puppies,” Danny said. “We’ll see the puppies when she brings `em out.”
“And that won’t be until their eyes are open,” Peter added, sounding like an expert.
“Well, just so you’re careful,” Annie called as they scampered past her. She wanted to yell at Sonny but it was useless.
It was time to get started for town. They boarded the bus, Annie yelling out last minute instructions over the roar of the motor. “Wash all the pots and pans from this morning. You’d better get more firewood, and don’t let Joey close to the fire. And Peter and Danny – stay by the big boys and don’t go out alone.”
And then they were gone, fairly bulldozing their way down the driveway.
“Well,” Andrew said leading the way back to the house. “We’d better get to work.”
“Jeez!” Mack spat hotly. “Maybe you’re gonna swallow that bullshit, but I’m not! To hell with that crap!” He picked up a piece of wood and slammed it down on the ground. His brothers stared at the splintered wood and said nothing.
Once they turned onto the main road, Annie began to feel panicked again. She knew once they got into town she would be expected to make decisions about things of which she knew nothing.
She got a reprieve when Matthew insisted on stopping at the Gibson's to thank them for their kindness that morning. He had tried to pay them before, but they had refused. Plus, he wanted Annie to meet Mrs. Gibson. “You’re going to really like her, Annie,” he said.
“Just remember,” Sonny sighed, “you told the boys we’d be back by noon. Sometimes these little visits can go on and on.” It was obvious he would rather keep going into town.
Chapter 10
_ _ _ _
Chapter 8
_
Matthew’s team plan went into effect immediately. Breakfast went much better than any of the meals the day before. Once everyone was on board, Matthew stood up and demanded everyone’s attention. “Boys!” he called, “we have at least two or three days left of traveling, and I absolutely do not want any more days like yesterday. So just settle down, do some reading or something – anything as long as it’s quiet. There will be no fighting, no throwing, no loud arguing, nothing!” He started to sit down but then faced them again. “Oh, yeah, I hope you all had plenty to drink at breakfast, gentlemen, because there will be no beverages served except at meal times. Any questions?”
“Yeah, Sarge, just one,” muttered Mack out of his father’s earshot. “When did I enlist? To tell ya’ the truth, I don’t remember doing it.”
They pulled onto the Pennsylvania turnpike at 9:00 sharp. The next two and a half hours were relatively quiet. The boys actually talked and joked a little, except Thomas of course, who sat off by himself strumming his guitar. Andrew produced a deck of cards, asking if anyone would like to go a couple of hands. Matthew asked if he could sit in. “Your old man can handle himself around a deck of cards, you know.”
“Yeah, we do know,” Andrew said, laughing. “That’s what got us into this mess.”
At 11:30, Sonny pulled into a rest area, over 150 miles further into Pennsylvania. The air was damp and cool, and there were still some patches of snow on the ground. Mack’s team challenged Andrew’s team to a game of football, so everyone went storming out for the game.
Annie was sleeping in the back of the bus until she sensed unusual movement. She was horrified to see Sonny bending over Joey. Having wrapped him in a coat and scarf, he picked up the boy and walked toward the door.
“What are you doing?” She lunged toward them, ready to snatch the boy out of Sonny’s arms. “It’s too cold for him outside. Are you crazy?”
“I got him wrapped up.” He brushed past her. “The kid’s not made of glass, ya’ know.”
She watched as he hoisted the boy on his shoulder, heading the opposite direction from where the others were playing. He swung over the fence five feet from a “No Trespassing” sign and headed down to a nearby stream. What a peculiar sight, Annie thought. Sonny’s expression was as grim as ever, but there he was, attending this fragile, helpless child. Across the park, Andrew, who had just taken a pass, pulled up and gestured in Sonny’s direction. Everyone stopped to gasp. This stranger defied any logical explanation.
Whatever the reason for Sonny’s uncharacteristic act of kindness, Annie resented it. She turned away from the window and began working over Becky who needed changing and feeding. This man did not have a sincere, caring bone in his body so why should he trouble himself with Joey? And now he’ll probably get an ear infection or something. Just what I need, moaned Annie, a sick child.
A half hour later, when Matthew broke up the game so everyone could eat, Sonny brought Joey back to the bus. They boy had bright red cheeks and was grinning from ear to ear. Sonny took off his wrappings without saying a word.
There were sandwiches, chips, and cookies for lunch. They ate hungrily and were soon on their way again. The boys settled down quietly, some even dropping off to sleep or just watching the picturesque countryside of western Pennsylvania slip by. They reached Ohio late that afternoon and pulled into their motel at 5:00 PM.
“Right on schedule,” Matthew proclaimed triumphantly. Fifteen minutes later, he and his sons were jumping into the pool, squealing and cavorting to their heart’s content.
When Sonny came carrying the last of the baggage into Annie’s room, Joey was laying on the floor and seemed to actually reach his arms toward Sonny. Annie thought he was going to ignore the boy, but he did squat down to tousle Joey’s curls. “What’s the story with him anyway?” he asked.
“With Joey?” she asked, taking him onto her lap. “The doctors would never admit it but probably something happened during delivery.” She was trying to undress him, battling the tremendous spasticity in his little hips and legs. Even his feet were curled. It was difficult to separate his scissoring legs to change his diaper.
“How old is he – two, three? He still wears diapers, can’t talk or nothing’?”
“Well, obviously he’s – well, handicapped,” she said curtly. What kind of stupid questions were these?
“You people have a lot of money, living in one of the biggest cities in the world – wasn’t there somebody who could do something for him?”
“Like what? Sure they told my parents they should try this or that, go to this doctor or that therapist, but my mother hated it. He was always sick with colds and ear infections. He is a very frail child. Can’t you see that? That’s why I’m so worried about living in a place that might not have electricity or heat or even running water. Now do you understand?” she demanded, fuming.
But he said nothing – just nodded disapprovingly and left. Once again, Annie felt cheated. There was so much more she wanted to say, but she was certain he didn’t care enough to stick around to finish anything.
Tuesday they drove across Ohio and Indiana, passing mile after mile of rich farmland, which otherwise would have been very boring and tiresome to the Winston’s. But this time, they gazed out their windows with much interest and curiosity. Would their farm look like one of these – neatly maintained white fences and red barns with baby calves sleeping in the pastures? They could only hope.
They pushed on past night fall, stopping for the night a few miles west of Chicago. All that lay between them and Mississippi was one hundred and sixty miles of Illinois. The word was passed quickly. Tomorrow they would be there.
After supper, Luke offered to take over the babies and get them settled for the night. Annie put on a nice outfit and even applied make-up. After all, she reminded herself, this is probably the last real civilization they would see for who knows how long. She went downstairs to the bar, noting she turned a couple of heads as she walked by. She felt a little giddy and daring so she asked her father to order her a drink rather than her usual diet soda.
“Pop was just telling us his fantasies of how this place will look.” Mack snickered. “He says it’ll have a big rambling farmhouse over-looking the river, of course, and a minimum of two of those huge barns like we’ve been driving past all day. And, oh yeah, lots of animals, like cows and pigs and probably a few chickens. Right, Pop?”
“It’s called livestock’,” Sonny said, “and I can’t wait till you’re out there at 5:00 AM, knee-deep in mud and cow shit.” He stood up then and finished the last of his beer.
Mack tried to appear undaunted, but he couldn’t stop the color from draining from his face. He gave his father one of those rueful I-don’t-believe-you-got-me-into-this looks. He then turned to give Sonny a piece of his mind. but he had already left. The others were laughing. “That sonofabitch!” Mack muttered, talking into his beer glass.
Annie fully intended to enjoy the evening. Her father was in very good spirits. They laughed and talked at the bar for a couple of hours. Later, when they were helping their father into bed, Mack pointed out that Sonny was not there. “Wonder what the hell that guy does off all by himself all the time?” Mack wondered, sounding accusatory. Andrew and Annie wondered, too, but they were too tired to debate it.
March can be a very troublesome month – totally unpredictable, when any kind of whether is normal. The old saying is, “In like a lion, then out like a lamb” and vice versa, but most mid-westerners hesitate to put much credence in that old cliché, since experience has taught them that no rules apply when it comes to the month of March.
So far, the skies were mostly overcast and the winds were cold, but thankfully, there hadn’t been any snow, ice, or rain, or mixture thereof – so far.
On their last day of traveling, everyone was rousted out of bed before dawn. Instead of their accustomed hot pancakes and sausage, they were given stale donuts and juice, so that the grumbling began earlier that day. And then, just as they stepped outside to board the bus, they were blasted by waves of icy rain. They huddled in their seats listening to the torrents of sleet pelt the windows.
Sonny sat hunched over the steering wheel in a trance of total concentration as he carefully negotiated mile after mile of slick pavement. They didn’t stop for lunch. Sandwiches were passed around but no one seemed very hungry.
The sleet turned to rain as the sun climbed higher behind its curtain of steel-gray clouds. Trickles of chatter could be heard as their fear wanned. They crossed the Mississippi into Iowa in early afternoon. There were still large chunks of ice floating in the dark, murky waters, making the river look very unfriendly and forbidden.
“I’m looking for the turnoff to U.S. Highway 61.” Sonny called to Matthew. “That’ll take us north to Dubuque County.” They turned off shortly and word was passed that it would be there in another hour and a half.
This new road was very choppy and uneven compared to the interstate. The bus bumped along, jolting and jostling its occupants mercilessly. Becky woke up screaming. Matthew bolted to the crib, picked up the infant, and began to pace. It was clear that he was too nervous to sit still any longer.
“I think it’s breaking up a little, don’t you think?” he said to no one in particular. “The rain is letting up, too.” He tried to sound hopeful, probably trying to convince himself more than anyone else.
The reality of where they were and how far removed it was from anything they had ever known began weighing heavier. Even the names of things were alien to them, like the villages of Maquoketa, Otter Creek, or Zwingle, and a river called the Wapsipinicon.
“Hey, that’s nothing,” sneered Thomas, who was looking over a map. “This state has rivers called the Fox and the Turkey. There’s even one called the Skunk!”
Shortly after they passed the sign that announced they were entering Dubuque County, they saw another sign that simply said, “HILL”.
“Maybe a decent hill is a big deal out here on the lone prairie,” Thomas quipped.
But the snickering was cut short as they swung over the top of that hill and dropped into a panorama of vastly changed scenery. The land bottomed out into beautiful wide valleys and sharply peaked bluffs that rimmed the landscape as though to separate this little corner of the world from the rest of the planet. There were immaculate farmsteads etched into the hillsides and cattle grazing on the barren, rocky inclines where it was too steep to plant crops. Narrow gravel roads trailed off across the countryside, disappearing where the hilltops met the sky.
As they neared the city of Dubuque, the roadside became dotted with houses and gas stations. However, before they reached the city itself, Sonny turned south onto a narrow blacktop road by the sign which said, “Shannontown: 18 miles”.
Matthew let out a loud, unrestrained whoop. “This is it! We’re almost there!“
The highway was part of a network called the Great River Road, which meant it closely paralleled the Mississippi’s curves and meanderings. It took travelers over high bluffs and across the valley floors. Even Mack and Thomas were quiet, intrigued by what they saw.
The first clue that they were nearing a town was a tall, white, spiraled church steeple rising above the treetops on a distant hillside. “Look, there it is!” someone cried. “That must be Shannontown!”
The town looked to be incredibly small, only a few buildings nestled between the river’s edge and high bluffs that towered behind it. The highway took them down the one main street that was lined with houses and businesses on one side and a riverside park on the other. As they drove along, they were through the town almost as quickly as they entered it, so Sonny turned the bus around to head back. “We’ll have to find someone who can tell us how to find the farm,” Matthew said, still pacing.
Sonny pulled into a corner gas station. “Sure, this will do,” Matthew agreed, standing poised at the door ready to leap out as soon as it opened. “Town like this, they’ll be able to tell us right off.”
Sonny opened the door and followed Matthew inside. There were two men sitting by an old wood stove. “Good afternoon,” Matthew began. “Would either of you happen to know where this place is located?” He showed them the deed.
They studied it for a few moments and exchanged surprised glances. “Well sure, mister. That would be the old Weatherly place,” one of them said. “Everybody knows where that’s at. Who’s askin’?”
Matthew took the deed and turned it over. “That’s me, Matthew MacAlister Winston II,” he said, pointing to his signature on the back. “I’m the new owner of the place. This is Sonny Jackson, my hired hand. We’ve been told that this is 420 acres of the richest, blackest dirt on God’s earth.” He finished with a grand flourish but neither man’s expression changed. Matthew’s smile faded, confronted by steady, scrutinizing stares.
He stepped aside so they could see the bus parked outside. “We’ve traveled from New York City to come out here and live.” The two men looked at the bus with all the children’s faces pressed against the windows and then stared at Matthew and Sonny again.
A slow, twitching grin spread across the older man’s face as he extended his hand. “Well, welcome to our little town,” he said, shaking Matthew’s hand. “I’m Jake Gibson, and I guess we’ll be neighbors, if you’re really serious about living out there.”
“Oh, I’m very serious, Mr. Gibson.”
“Ah, just call me Jake,” said the old man, smiling. He leaned forward on his cane. “Now, I don’t know what they told ya’ when ya’ bought that place but--”
“I didn’t buy it. I won it in a poker game. And I realized it probably needs a lot of work, but if you’d just give us directions, we’ll look the place over ourselves.”
“Well now, how many youngsters you got out there? A whole bus full, aye?”
“I have ten children and they’re quite anxious to see our new home,” Matthew said with strained politeness. “Now, if you could give us directions?” he pressed.
“Ten kids, huh. And this is your hired hand?” he asked nodding at Sonny. “You folks know anything about farmin’?” he wondered out loud. “Well, listen, I guess the best way is for you just to follow me home.” He opened the door, but then stopped to comment further. “But ya’ know, we’ve had an early thaw this year so gravel roads are pretty soft. Mel hasn’t had the maintainer out there yet. ‘Course the school bus makes it out there without much problems. But then, Bud’s been driving that route for years.”
While he was chattering, he was digging into his pocket. “That’s all right, Jake,” grinned the other man, apparently the proprietor, “You can take care of it the next time you’re in. I think these fellas are kinda in a hurry.”
The old man hobbled slowly out of his old Ford truck. “Now, we’ll be heading out south of town,” he said, pointing with his cane. “I’ll wait for ya’ to get that thing turned around.” Matthew nor Sonny answered. They just got in the bus.
“Now I know how John Wayne felt when he had to deal with Walter Brennan,” Matthew joked.
Old Jake Gibson drove as slow as he talked and walked, but he hadn’t lied when he warned them about the roads. Once they turned off the highway onto what was supposed to he a gravel road, they swerved and slid their way for another three miles. Then Jake pulled into a driveway of a lovely farmstead and stopped. There was a collective hopeful gasp, everyone wondering if this was their place. But it wasn’t. Jake got out of his truck, hobbled over and called to them. “Just keep going’, it’s right down the road there. See that stand of fur trees yonder? That’s the place.” He was pointing with his cane. “You’d better not try the lane. It hasn’t been worked in years. If there’s anything you need, just come up here. Me and the misses are home most of the time.”
Matthew shouted thank you as Sonny revved the engine and pulled away.
Everyone pressed their faces against the windows on the left side of the bus, straining to see the first glimpse of the place. The long row of large evergreens blocked their view, but as they drew nearer, they could see past them and there it was.
No one said a word as they stared at the dark and broken house, crowning the top of a bleak and colorless hill. Most of the windows and doors were broken. A few were boarded. Enormous trees surrounded the house, pointing their bare sinister fingers as if to warn passing strangers to stay away. Across from the house, were several shabby, dilapidated barns and out buildings, each of them in worse shape than the next. The bus rolled to a stop at the entrance of a long driveway, its occupants sitting in frozen silence.
But then Matthew jumped to his feet and reached for the handle. “C’mon, what are you waiting for?” he cried as he threw open the door. “Let’s go have a closer look.”
No one moved at first. “Is he serious?” moaned Mack. “Man! This is worse, a hundred times worse, than I ever expected! Don’t they have wrecking crews here?”
“Or matches?” sneered Thomas, standing up and reaching for his coat. “Or maybe these country boys just rub sticks together,” he quipped as he passed Sonny, who was still sitting and starring.
Annie was sitting and staring, too, feeling a little nauseated and light-headed. Matthew tapped on her window and motioned for her to come. She opened the window stiffly. “Daddy, I think I’d better stay here on the bus. The baby is asleep and Joey--”
“Nah, they’ll be alright, Annie,” he persisted. “I’ll send one of the boys to check them every few minutes. Come on. Don’t you want to see the inside of the house?”
She gulped frantically. No, she did not want to see the house at all. She was afraid she was going to throw up, but she reached for her coat and joined the others. Then, realizing there was probably no running water, she cringed at the sea of mud that laid between them and the house. “Be careful,” she called. “Try not to get too dirty.”
Undaunted, Matthew stepped forward, leading them slowly and tentatively at first. He seemed oblivious to their fears and horror. Then he began picking up the pace and they followed him, parading through the mud. He pressed harder, going faster and faster until they were all running, slipping and sliding up the hill.
And then they were there. They stood huddled together at the foot of the stairway leading to the wide, pillared veranda. No one spoke. The sound of their collective labored breathing was deafeningly loud. Matthew stepped forward and mounted the first step, but his foot fell through the rotten wood. He managed to pick his way up and approached the door. Ripping off the “KEEP OUT” sign, he tried to break away the other boards with his bare hands but they held fast. Sonny produced a hammer from beneath his jacket and together they managed to free the entrance. The door swung open, groaning appropriately.
They stepped inside into what appeared to be a large, high-ceiling foyer. There was an open stairway on the right side that swept gracefully around the far end of the room. Straight ahead, beneath the stairway, were four dilapidated French doors opening into the backyard. The Winston’s stood gaping open-mouthed at their surroundings. They were surprised to see that this had probably been a lavish mansion in some earlier time.
Without speaking, they broke off into little groups and wandered in different directions. Annie took Peter and Danny by the hand and tapped Andrew on the shoulder to come along. She went to the right into what must have been a formal dining room. A long table stood intact down the middle of the room. Its dark oak finish was marred by deep gashes and weathering. The chairs were gone, and the stained glass panels were smashed in the buffets ate the end of the large rectangular room.
She pushed through a swinging door, barely hanging by one hinge, and stepped into the largest kitchen she had ever seen. Of course, she hadn’t been in many, but this one was huge. There was a pantry area immediately to the left and to the right was a winding back stairway to the upper floor and a door which probably led to the basement. The remainder of the spacious, airy kitchen was bordered by long counters and cupboards. The large, rusted cook stove was repeatedly vandalized – its pipes and parts were broken, and there were names, dates and some vulgarisms scratched into its great belly. Still, even with the cobwebs and rubble, there was a hint of warmth and hospitality in this room. They quietly moved through the passageway-like indoor porch that took them outdoors.
Matthew and the other boys had gone left from the foyer into the living room. It apparently had once been quite elegant. The large open fireplace was the focal point of the room with its marble mantle and ornate fixtures. Off this room was a smaller one, probably a library or study with bookshelves from floor to ceiling on three walls, now barren and broken.
Near the far end of the foyer they found another doorway into another small square room with much plainer furnishings. There was a large desk and pieces of a wooden roller chair. “This was probably the office for the estate,” Matthew said. It had an exit leading outside, adjacent to where the doorways from the foyer and kitchen opened so that all the explorers rejoined each other there.
This large porch winged off into long verandas that ran the length of the house. There were a few steps down to the stone walkway that dissected the huge backyard. The grounds, now covered with refuse and overgrown with weeds, sloped gently toward the edge of the timber. At the end of the walkway was a ramshackle structure that had once been a small gazebo sitting near the line of tall evergreen trees which served as a boundary between the yard and the woods. There, the terrain appeared to change, pitching downward sharply.
“This is the edge of the bluff,” Matthew exclaimed. “The river and the valley must lay beyond. C’mon. There must be an opening here somewhere. ” He followed the tree line to the right with the others close on his heels. The purposeful intensity illuminating his face drew them along.
They came to a large rocky shelf that jutted out over the ridge. The stony floor allowed little growth so it afforded an excellent alley-way to view the valley that stretched out before them. There were the acres of the rich, black farmland that Matthew had told them about. Beyond that was the river, dark and imposing even at this distance. Though the landscape seemed desolate and barren in foggy hues of gray, it was a spectacle that left even the most unbelieving gasping and spell-bound.
“My God, this is it! This is it!” Matthew proclaimed, his voice at first small and hallow but swelling rapidly until it was booming and exhilarating, He stretched his arms out as though to embrace it all. “I don’t care what any of you say, we are staying!”
No one said anything. It would have been useless anyway. They stood there together, cemented by the resolve of one man. But then a cool breeze stirred the treetops, sending a shuddering chill through the little group as though reality was slapping them on the face.
“So now what?” someone said. None of them, not even Matthew, had the vaguest idea. As they had done already so many times these past few days, all eyes turned toward Sonny.
He was sitting astride one of the large tree trunks that served as a safe banister for this rocky balcony. He gazed over the valley with as much awe and reverence as Matthew. His jacket was opened but he seemed unaffected by the cold wind that swept over him. Then he became aware that they were all looking at him and his expression changed to business-like. He looked up at the threatening skies. “Well, we’d better get unloaded,” he said. “It’ll be dark soon, or worse, we’ll get hit by a thunderstorm.” Sighing deeply, he got up and led them back toward the house. It was time to get started.
Matthew’s team plan went into effect immediately. Breakfast went much better than any of the meals the day before. Once everyone was on board, Matthew stood up and demanded everyone’s attention. “Boys!” he called, “we have at least two or three days left of traveling, and I absolutely do not want any more days like yesterday. So just settle down, do some reading or something – anything as long as it’s quiet. There will be no fighting, no throwing, no loud arguing, nothing!” He started to sit down but then faced them again. “Oh, yeah, I hope you all had plenty to drink at breakfast, gentlemen, because there will be no beverages served except at meal times. Any questions?”
“Yeah, Sarge, just one,” muttered Mack out of his father’s earshot. “When did I enlist? To tell ya’ the truth, I don’t remember doing it.”
They pulled onto the Pennsylvania turnpike at 9:00 sharp. The next two and a half hours were relatively quiet. The boys actually talked and joked a little, except Thomas of course, who sat off by himself strumming his guitar. Andrew produced a deck of cards, asking if anyone would like to go a couple of hands. Matthew asked if he could sit in. “Your old man can handle himself around a deck of cards, you know.”
“Yeah, we do know,” Andrew said, laughing. “That’s what got us into this mess.”
At 11:30, Sonny pulled into a rest area, over 150 miles further into Pennsylvania. The air was damp and cool, and there were still some patches of snow on the ground. Mack’s team challenged Andrew’s team to a game of football, so everyone went storming out for the game.
Annie was sleeping in the back of the bus until she sensed unusual movement. She was horrified to see Sonny bending over Joey. Having wrapped him in a coat and scarf, he picked up the boy and walked toward the door.
“What are you doing?” She lunged toward them, ready to snatch the boy out of Sonny’s arms. “It’s too cold for him outside. Are you crazy?”
“I got him wrapped up.” He brushed past her. “The kid’s not made of glass, ya’ know.”
She watched as he hoisted the boy on his shoulder, heading the opposite direction from where the others were playing. He swung over the fence five feet from a “No Trespassing” sign and headed down to a nearby stream. What a peculiar sight, Annie thought. Sonny’s expression was as grim as ever, but there he was, attending this fragile, helpless child. Across the park, Andrew, who had just taken a pass, pulled up and gestured in Sonny’s direction. Everyone stopped to gasp. This stranger defied any logical explanation.
Whatever the reason for Sonny’s uncharacteristic act of kindness, Annie resented it. She turned away from the window and began working over Becky who needed changing and feeding. This man did not have a sincere, caring bone in his body so why should he trouble himself with Joey? And now he’ll probably get an ear infection or something. Just what I need, moaned Annie, a sick child.
A half hour later, when Matthew broke up the game so everyone could eat, Sonny brought Joey back to the bus. They boy had bright red cheeks and was grinning from ear to ear. Sonny took off his wrappings without saying a word.
There were sandwiches, chips, and cookies for lunch. They ate hungrily and were soon on their way again. The boys settled down quietly, some even dropping off to sleep or just watching the picturesque countryside of western Pennsylvania slip by. They reached Ohio late that afternoon and pulled into their motel at 5:00 PM.
“Right on schedule,” Matthew proclaimed triumphantly. Fifteen minutes later, he and his sons were jumping into the pool, squealing and cavorting to their heart’s content.
When Sonny came carrying the last of the baggage into Annie’s room, Joey was laying on the floor and seemed to actually reach his arms toward Sonny. Annie thought he was going to ignore the boy, but he did squat down to tousle Joey’s curls. “What’s the story with him anyway?” he asked.
“With Joey?” she asked, taking him onto her lap. “The doctors would never admit it but probably something happened during delivery.” She was trying to undress him, battling the tremendous spasticity in his little hips and legs. Even his feet were curled. It was difficult to separate his scissoring legs to change his diaper.
“How old is he – two, three? He still wears diapers, can’t talk or nothing’?”
“Well, obviously he’s – well, handicapped,” she said curtly. What kind of stupid questions were these?
“You people have a lot of money, living in one of the biggest cities in the world – wasn’t there somebody who could do something for him?”
“Like what? Sure they told my parents they should try this or that, go to this doctor or that therapist, but my mother hated it. He was always sick with colds and ear infections. He is a very frail child. Can’t you see that? That’s why I’m so worried about living in a place that might not have electricity or heat or even running water. Now do you understand?” she demanded, fuming.
But he said nothing – just nodded disapprovingly and left. Once again, Annie felt cheated. There was so much more she wanted to say, but she was certain he didn’t care enough to stick around to finish anything.
Tuesday they drove across Ohio and Indiana, passing mile after mile of rich farmland, which otherwise would have been very boring and tiresome to the Winston’s. But this time, they gazed out their windows with much interest and curiosity. Would their farm look like one of these – neatly maintained white fences and red barns with baby calves sleeping in the pastures? They could only hope.
They pushed on past night fall, stopping for the night a few miles west of Chicago. All that lay between them and Mississippi was one hundred and sixty miles of Illinois. The word was passed quickly. Tomorrow they would be there.
After supper, Luke offered to take over the babies and get them settled for the night. Annie put on a nice outfit and even applied make-up. After all, she reminded herself, this is probably the last real civilization they would see for who knows how long. She went downstairs to the bar, noting she turned a couple of heads as she walked by. She felt a little giddy and daring so she asked her father to order her a drink rather than her usual diet soda.
“Pop was just telling us his fantasies of how this place will look.” Mack snickered. “He says it’ll have a big rambling farmhouse over-looking the river, of course, and a minimum of two of those huge barns like we’ve been driving past all day. And, oh yeah, lots of animals, like cows and pigs and probably a few chickens. Right, Pop?”
“It’s called livestock’,” Sonny said, “and I can’t wait till you’re out there at 5:00 AM, knee-deep in mud and cow shit.” He stood up then and finished the last of his beer.
Mack tried to appear undaunted, but he couldn’t stop the color from draining from his face. He gave his father one of those rueful I-don’t-believe-you-got-me-into-this looks. He then turned to give Sonny a piece of his mind. but he had already left. The others were laughing. “That sonofabitch!” Mack muttered, talking into his beer glass.
Annie fully intended to enjoy the evening. Her father was in very good spirits. They laughed and talked at the bar for a couple of hours. Later, when they were helping their father into bed, Mack pointed out that Sonny was not there. “Wonder what the hell that guy does off all by himself all the time?” Mack wondered, sounding accusatory. Andrew and Annie wondered, too, but they were too tired to debate it.
March can be a very troublesome month – totally unpredictable, when any kind of whether is normal. The old saying is, “In like a lion, then out like a lamb” and vice versa, but most mid-westerners hesitate to put much credence in that old cliché, since experience has taught them that no rules apply when it comes to the month of March.
So far, the skies were mostly overcast and the winds were cold, but thankfully, there hadn’t been any snow, ice, or rain, or mixture thereof – so far.
On their last day of traveling, everyone was rousted out of bed before dawn. Instead of their accustomed hot pancakes and sausage, they were given stale donuts and juice, so that the grumbling began earlier that day. And then, just as they stepped outside to board the bus, they were blasted by waves of icy rain. They huddled in their seats listening to the torrents of sleet pelt the windows.
Sonny sat hunched over the steering wheel in a trance of total concentration as he carefully negotiated mile after mile of slick pavement. They didn’t stop for lunch. Sandwiches were passed around but no one seemed very hungry.
The sleet turned to rain as the sun climbed higher behind its curtain of steel-gray clouds. Trickles of chatter could be heard as their fear wanned. They crossed the Mississippi into Iowa in early afternoon. There were still large chunks of ice floating in the dark, murky waters, making the river look very unfriendly and forbidden.
“I’m looking for the turnoff to U.S. Highway 61.” Sonny called to Matthew. “That’ll take us north to Dubuque County.” They turned off shortly and word was passed that it would be there in another hour and a half.
This new road was very choppy and uneven compared to the interstate. The bus bumped along, jolting and jostling its occupants mercilessly. Becky woke up screaming. Matthew bolted to the crib, picked up the infant, and began to pace. It was clear that he was too nervous to sit still any longer.
“I think it’s breaking up a little, don’t you think?” he said to no one in particular. “The rain is letting up, too.” He tried to sound hopeful, probably trying to convince himself more than anyone else.
The reality of where they were and how far removed it was from anything they had ever known began weighing heavier. Even the names of things were alien to them, like the villages of Maquoketa, Otter Creek, or Zwingle, and a river called the Wapsipinicon.
“Hey, that’s nothing,” sneered Thomas, who was looking over a map. “This state has rivers called the Fox and the Turkey. There’s even one called the Skunk!”
Shortly after they passed the sign that announced they were entering Dubuque County, they saw another sign that simply said, “HILL”.
“Maybe a decent hill is a big deal out here on the lone prairie,” Thomas quipped.
But the snickering was cut short as they swung over the top of that hill and dropped into a panorama of vastly changed scenery. The land bottomed out into beautiful wide valleys and sharply peaked bluffs that rimmed the landscape as though to separate this little corner of the world from the rest of the planet. There were immaculate farmsteads etched into the hillsides and cattle grazing on the barren, rocky inclines where it was too steep to plant crops. Narrow gravel roads trailed off across the countryside, disappearing where the hilltops met the sky.
As they neared the city of Dubuque, the roadside became dotted with houses and gas stations. However, before they reached the city itself, Sonny turned south onto a narrow blacktop road by the sign which said, “Shannontown: 18 miles”.
Matthew let out a loud, unrestrained whoop. “This is it! We’re almost there!“
The highway was part of a network called the Great River Road, which meant it closely paralleled the Mississippi’s curves and meanderings. It took travelers over high bluffs and across the valley floors. Even Mack and Thomas were quiet, intrigued by what they saw.
The first clue that they were nearing a town was a tall, white, spiraled church steeple rising above the treetops on a distant hillside. “Look, there it is!” someone cried. “That must be Shannontown!”
The town looked to be incredibly small, only a few buildings nestled between the river’s edge and high bluffs that towered behind it. The highway took them down the one main street that was lined with houses and businesses on one side and a riverside park on the other. As they drove along, they were through the town almost as quickly as they entered it, so Sonny turned the bus around to head back. “We’ll have to find someone who can tell us how to find the farm,” Matthew said, still pacing.
Sonny pulled into a corner gas station. “Sure, this will do,” Matthew agreed, standing poised at the door ready to leap out as soon as it opened. “Town like this, they’ll be able to tell us right off.”
Sonny opened the door and followed Matthew inside. There were two men sitting by an old wood stove. “Good afternoon,” Matthew began. “Would either of you happen to know where this place is located?” He showed them the deed.
They studied it for a few moments and exchanged surprised glances. “Well sure, mister. That would be the old Weatherly place,” one of them said. “Everybody knows where that’s at. Who’s askin’?”
Matthew took the deed and turned it over. “That’s me, Matthew MacAlister Winston II,” he said, pointing to his signature on the back. “I’m the new owner of the place. This is Sonny Jackson, my hired hand. We’ve been told that this is 420 acres of the richest, blackest dirt on God’s earth.” He finished with a grand flourish but neither man’s expression changed. Matthew’s smile faded, confronted by steady, scrutinizing stares.
He stepped aside so they could see the bus parked outside. “We’ve traveled from New York City to come out here and live.” The two men looked at the bus with all the children’s faces pressed against the windows and then stared at Matthew and Sonny again.
A slow, twitching grin spread across the older man’s face as he extended his hand. “Well, welcome to our little town,” he said, shaking Matthew’s hand. “I’m Jake Gibson, and I guess we’ll be neighbors, if you’re really serious about living out there.”
“Oh, I’m very serious, Mr. Gibson.”
“Ah, just call me Jake,” said the old man, smiling. He leaned forward on his cane. “Now, I don’t know what they told ya’ when ya’ bought that place but--”
“I didn’t buy it. I won it in a poker game. And I realized it probably needs a lot of work, but if you’d just give us directions, we’ll look the place over ourselves.”
“Well now, how many youngsters you got out there? A whole bus full, aye?”
“I have ten children and they’re quite anxious to see our new home,” Matthew said with strained politeness. “Now, if you could give us directions?” he pressed.
“Ten kids, huh. And this is your hired hand?” he asked nodding at Sonny. “You folks know anything about farmin’?” he wondered out loud. “Well, listen, I guess the best way is for you just to follow me home.” He opened the door, but then stopped to comment further. “But ya’ know, we’ve had an early thaw this year so gravel roads are pretty soft. Mel hasn’t had the maintainer out there yet. ‘Course the school bus makes it out there without much problems. But then, Bud’s been driving that route for years.”
While he was chattering, he was digging into his pocket. “That’s all right, Jake,” grinned the other man, apparently the proprietor, “You can take care of it the next time you’re in. I think these fellas are kinda in a hurry.”
The old man hobbled slowly out of his old Ford truck. “Now, we’ll be heading out south of town,” he said, pointing with his cane. “I’ll wait for ya’ to get that thing turned around.” Matthew nor Sonny answered. They just got in the bus.
“Now I know how John Wayne felt when he had to deal with Walter Brennan,” Matthew joked.
Old Jake Gibson drove as slow as he talked and walked, but he hadn’t lied when he warned them about the roads. Once they turned off the highway onto what was supposed to he a gravel road, they swerved and slid their way for another three miles. Then Jake pulled into a driveway of a lovely farmstead and stopped. There was a collective hopeful gasp, everyone wondering if this was their place. But it wasn’t. Jake got out of his truck, hobbled over and called to them. “Just keep going’, it’s right down the road there. See that stand of fur trees yonder? That’s the place.” He was pointing with his cane. “You’d better not try the lane. It hasn’t been worked in years. If there’s anything you need, just come up here. Me and the misses are home most of the time.”
Matthew shouted thank you as Sonny revved the engine and pulled away.
Everyone pressed their faces against the windows on the left side of the bus, straining to see the first glimpse of the place. The long row of large evergreens blocked their view, but as they drew nearer, they could see past them and there it was.
No one said a word as they stared at the dark and broken house, crowning the top of a bleak and colorless hill. Most of the windows and doors were broken. A few were boarded. Enormous trees surrounded the house, pointing their bare sinister fingers as if to warn passing strangers to stay away. Across from the house, were several shabby, dilapidated barns and out buildings, each of them in worse shape than the next. The bus rolled to a stop at the entrance of a long driveway, its occupants sitting in frozen silence.
But then Matthew jumped to his feet and reached for the handle. “C’mon, what are you waiting for?” he cried as he threw open the door. “Let’s go have a closer look.”
No one moved at first. “Is he serious?” moaned Mack. “Man! This is worse, a hundred times worse, than I ever expected! Don’t they have wrecking crews here?”
“Or matches?” sneered Thomas, standing up and reaching for his coat. “Or maybe these country boys just rub sticks together,” he quipped as he passed Sonny, who was still sitting and starring.
Annie was sitting and staring, too, feeling a little nauseated and light-headed. Matthew tapped on her window and motioned for her to come. She opened the window stiffly. “Daddy, I think I’d better stay here on the bus. The baby is asleep and Joey--”
“Nah, they’ll be alright, Annie,” he persisted. “I’ll send one of the boys to check them every few minutes. Come on. Don’t you want to see the inside of the house?”
She gulped frantically. No, she did not want to see the house at all. She was afraid she was going to throw up, but she reached for her coat and joined the others. Then, realizing there was probably no running water, she cringed at the sea of mud that laid between them and the house. “Be careful,” she called. “Try not to get too dirty.”
Undaunted, Matthew stepped forward, leading them slowly and tentatively at first. He seemed oblivious to their fears and horror. Then he began picking up the pace and they followed him, parading through the mud. He pressed harder, going faster and faster until they were all running, slipping and sliding up the hill.
And then they were there. They stood huddled together at the foot of the stairway leading to the wide, pillared veranda. No one spoke. The sound of their collective labored breathing was deafeningly loud. Matthew stepped forward and mounted the first step, but his foot fell through the rotten wood. He managed to pick his way up and approached the door. Ripping off the “KEEP OUT” sign, he tried to break away the other boards with his bare hands but they held fast. Sonny produced a hammer from beneath his jacket and together they managed to free the entrance. The door swung open, groaning appropriately.
They stepped inside into what appeared to be a large, high-ceiling foyer. There was an open stairway on the right side that swept gracefully around the far end of the room. Straight ahead, beneath the stairway, were four dilapidated French doors opening into the backyard. The Winston’s stood gaping open-mouthed at their surroundings. They were surprised to see that this had probably been a lavish mansion in some earlier time.
Without speaking, they broke off into little groups and wandered in different directions. Annie took Peter and Danny by the hand and tapped Andrew on the shoulder to come along. She went to the right into what must have been a formal dining room. A long table stood intact down the middle of the room. Its dark oak finish was marred by deep gashes and weathering. The chairs were gone, and the stained glass panels were smashed in the buffets ate the end of the large rectangular room.
She pushed through a swinging door, barely hanging by one hinge, and stepped into the largest kitchen she had ever seen. Of course, she hadn’t been in many, but this one was huge. There was a pantry area immediately to the left and to the right was a winding back stairway to the upper floor and a door which probably led to the basement. The remainder of the spacious, airy kitchen was bordered by long counters and cupboards. The large, rusted cook stove was repeatedly vandalized – its pipes and parts were broken, and there were names, dates and some vulgarisms scratched into its great belly. Still, even with the cobwebs and rubble, there was a hint of warmth and hospitality in this room. They quietly moved through the passageway-like indoor porch that took them outdoors.
Matthew and the other boys had gone left from the foyer into the living room. It apparently had once been quite elegant. The large open fireplace was the focal point of the room with its marble mantle and ornate fixtures. Off this room was a smaller one, probably a library or study with bookshelves from floor to ceiling on three walls, now barren and broken.
Near the far end of the foyer they found another doorway into another small square room with much plainer furnishings. There was a large desk and pieces of a wooden roller chair. “This was probably the office for the estate,” Matthew said. It had an exit leading outside, adjacent to where the doorways from the foyer and kitchen opened so that all the explorers rejoined each other there.
This large porch winged off into long verandas that ran the length of the house. There were a few steps down to the stone walkway that dissected the huge backyard. The grounds, now covered with refuse and overgrown with weeds, sloped gently toward the edge of the timber. At the end of the walkway was a ramshackle structure that had once been a small gazebo sitting near the line of tall evergreen trees which served as a boundary between the yard and the woods. There, the terrain appeared to change, pitching downward sharply.
“This is the edge of the bluff,” Matthew exclaimed. “The river and the valley must lay beyond. C’mon. There must be an opening here somewhere. ” He followed the tree line to the right with the others close on his heels. The purposeful intensity illuminating his face drew them along.
They came to a large rocky shelf that jutted out over the ridge. The stony floor allowed little growth so it afforded an excellent alley-way to view the valley that stretched out before them. There were the acres of the rich, black farmland that Matthew had told them about. Beyond that was the river, dark and imposing even at this distance. Though the landscape seemed desolate and barren in foggy hues of gray, it was a spectacle that left even the most unbelieving gasping and spell-bound.
“My God, this is it! This is it!” Matthew proclaimed, his voice at first small and hallow but swelling rapidly until it was booming and exhilarating, He stretched his arms out as though to embrace it all. “I don’t care what any of you say, we are staying!”
No one said anything. It would have been useless anyway. They stood there together, cemented by the resolve of one man. But then a cool breeze stirred the treetops, sending a shuddering chill through the little group as though reality was slapping them on the face.
“So now what?” someone said. None of them, not even Matthew, had the vaguest idea. As they had done already so many times these past few days, all eyes turned toward Sonny.
He was sitting astride one of the large tree trunks that served as a safe banister for this rocky balcony. He gazed over the valley with as much awe and reverence as Matthew. His jacket was opened but he seemed unaffected by the cold wind that swept over him. Then he became aware that they were all looking at him and his expression changed to business-like. He looked up at the threatening skies. “Well, we’d better get unloaded,” he said. “It’ll be dark soon, or worse, we’ll get hit by a thunderstorm.” Sighing deeply, he got up and led them back toward the house. It was time to get started.
_ _ _ _Chapter 9
Chapter 7
_
Sharply at noon, the doorbell rang and there was Sonny. Annie was ready. She grabbed her coat and purse and followed him out the door. “I took the liberty of calling a cab,” she said. “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to go down to Battery Park and ride the Staten Island Ferry.” He said nothing as he crawled into the cab and continued the silent treatment the entire trip. His refusal to make polite conversation still bothered her, probably because she lived in a world of superfluous chatter.
Her world. Her life. She watched as the familiar sights floated past the cab window. This city was her home. For all of its faults, she loved living in New York City. She wondered when she’d ever see these places again.
They boarded the ferry. Sonny led the way, scarcely looking back to see is she was keeping up. He made his way up the weathered brown and yellow stairs, and pushed open the door to go outside. He moved to the railing and leaned against a pillar. Annie chose a spot on a bench nearby, but no one watching would ever suspect they were traveling together. Soon, the horn blasted and slowly the old battered workhorse of the bay pulled away from its berth.
Annie gazed at the choppy water. A red tug scooted past. The Lady of the Harbor rose magnificently from her island. Annie’s nostrils were filled with the pungent sea smells. The soft purr of the diesels was accompanied by the squawk of the sea gulls as they dipped and glided overhead.
Ever since she was a little girl, she loved to ride the ferry, especially with her father. Perhaps it was true he had never developed much affection for shipbuilding, but he loved ships and the sea. He would point out one freighter or another – ones his company built or others he wished they had built.
She felt tears welling up, more out of anger and confusion than sadness. This was the legacy her father had bestowed upon his children. And yet it was he who was so intent on taking it away. Why did everything have to change like this?
She hated being so angry with her mother for dying, but none of this would be happening if she were still alive. It was her death that had pushed Matthew to the edge, made him start searching for something to belong to again. He believed this farm would help recapture some long ago dream, or perhaps it was just a desperate diversion from his pain. Annie wiped away her tears and looked out over the bay with renewed assurance that maybe it did make sense after all.
How much does the success of this new adventure rest on that man’s shoulders, she wondered as she once again contemplated Sonny. Was he saying good-bye, too? Was New York his home or just a place he paused in his journeys? And why did her father trust him so completely? She knew why. There was something about him. You could see it just the way he was standing there, his face into the wind, so damned self-assured.
She was certain that he intended to help them reach the farm, and then take the money and leave. Her father could hire a real foreman or hired hand or whatever you call such people. Perhaps they’d find a whole family – like on TV and movies. The husband does the farming, and the wife does the cooking and cleaning. Yes, that must be the way it’s done. She felt relieved. Maybe things weren’t as bleak as she first thought.
The ferry reached the Island and they disembarked. They took another cab to the Sears store. Once inside, he guided her to the catalog desk. Sonny was right. This was not Madison Avenue, Annie thought as she surveyed the plain surroundings. There were racks of flannel shirts and sweatshirts with hand written 25% discount signs.
“May I help you?“ asked the crisp saleslady at the catalog counter as she glanced at them over the top of her horn-rimmed glasses.
Annie cleared her throat a little and said, “Yes, I’d like to place an order and have it shipped to Dubuque, Iowa, please.”
“I see,” the woman said, reaching for her order pad, putting the carbon in place with a great flourish. “You do realize that you’ll have to pay for the entire order in advance.”
“Yes, so I’ve been told.” Annie cast a quick glance toward Sonny. “Here it is.”
The clerk glared angrily at Annie after she counted the four pages of neatly printed lists. “Young lady, is this some kind of joke? This is hundreds of dollars of merchandise?”
“Yes, I know. $954.66 See, it‘s all added up, including tax--”
“Look,” Sonny broke in rudely, “do you want our business or not? If you’re too busy to take care of this, I’m sure J.C. Penny’s would be happy to handle this.”
“Young man, I’d be happy to place this order except -- except there are no weights listed here. We require those so that shipping charges can be assessed. It would take hours for me to find the weights for each of these items!”
Just then a pleasant looking young woman came up and tapped the clerk on the shoulder. “Miss Beamers, I’m going on my lunch break now, okay?”
Sonny blocked her path and waved a fifty dollar bill in her face. “Miss,” he said, “how would you like to make a fast fifty bucks on your lunch break today?”
“What?” she stammered, looking as though she wondered is she should call the police. “I’m meeting my boyfriend and --”
“Good! If he wants to help, I’ll give him fifty bucks, too. We need weights for everything on this list. If we each take a page, we can get it done fast.”
“Oh, I see. Okay, sure. C’mon, we can go to the cafeteria.” She took four of the huge catalogs from beneath the counter and led the way. Annie stood there, stunned, until Sonny grabbed her and pulled her a long.
One hour later, it was done. The manager of the store heard about it and offered any assistance they might need. When Annie reached into her purse and took out a stack of cash, a security guard was summoned because the cash drawer wouldn’t hold that much money. “I’m afraid I’m a little short,” Annie said, shamefaced. “I didn’t know about the shipping charges.”
“Ah, Jeez,” moaned Sonny. “Here, I have it covered.” The bill was settled and soon they were back out onto the street. Luckily, a cab was just letting off a rider. Sonny shoved Annie inside. He folded his arms across his chest and sat stone-faced.
Annie watched him out of the corner of her eye until she couldn’t stand it any longer. “What are you mad at now?” she demanded.
He didn’t answer at first, looking as though he wasn’t sure he wanted another confrontation with her. “All right, then,” he said, readjusting himself in his seat. “You walk into a store with nearly a thousand dollars worth of cash business and you apologize all the way through it. Christ! You should have had them kissing your feet!”
“Let me get this straight – you’re mad at me? Why? Because I didn’t get hostile right away? Some people might call that good manners!”
“You have to learn how to handle yourself in those situations! You’re such a baby! What would you do if you were on your own?”
She sputtered and stammered but nothing came out! Never had she been so insulted! Sonny just leaned back in his seat and looked as though he was going to take a nap, which further infuriated her. So I have no guts, eh? No confidence? I have never had to make decisions before. I’ve always been taken care of and assumed I always would.
That is until now. Suddenly that familiar shiver of fright jolted through her and she fought back tears again. She wanted to cry obscenities at this egotistical jerk and pound upon his chest until he he’d listen to her. I’ll show him, she vowed, even if it kills me!
Saturday morning everyone was up early. The boys were told to lay everything out on their beds and then Matthew, Annie, or Andrew could come around to check it. There were some tough decisions to be made. Peter couldn’t decide whether to bring his rock collection or his baseball cards. Thomas was angry because neither of his guitars would fit in his trunk. At first Matthew stubbornly refused to make any exceptions, but was coaxed into allowing Thomas to bring one. Then he made a thunderous announcement that no one else had better ask for any other special compensation.
By supper, most of the trunks and luggage were packed and stacked in the foyer. There was a hush that fell over the house as even the younger boys seemed to understand the significance of this last night at home. Tomorrow they would begin what Matthew called their great adventure. Annie and Grace went through the baby things. Many of the blankets and sleepers held special remembrances so they found themselves recounting old stories as they packed, alternately laughing and crying.
Mack slipped down the hallway trying to get into his room undetected. He opened his door to find Andrew and Luke standing by his bed, which was piled with clothes and toiletries.
“Oh, God,” he groaned. “What have we here? Daddy’s little helpers?”
“C’mon, Mack, we’re just trying to help,” Luke explained. “We’re leaving right after Mass in the morning, and you don’t have your stuff together.”
“Hey, who says I’m goin’ to this funny farm anyway,” Mack sneered.
“Shhh! Just pipe down,” scowled Andrew. “In case you don’t realize it, its late. So just shut up and decide what you want to bring along. We laid some stuff out already.”
“You boys are just too good to me,” Mack jeered. He picked up armfuls of clothes and flung them across the room.
“Okay, Mack, we get that you’re drunk and in a vile mood, but we don’t care,” Andrew said as he picked up some clothes off the floor. “You could try to be a little adult about this. Going out and getting drunk every night doesn’t help anything.”
“Oh, just shut up,” snarled Mack. “You make me sick, you hypocritical ass. You know as well as I do that this is the most fucked up idea you’ve ever heard, but you always go along with anything the old man says. At least I stand up to him!”
“Making my father happy makes me a hypocrite?” Andrew retorted. “He wants us to stick together. I can understand that. For God’s sake, why can’t you?”
“Oh, hell, Andrew!” cried Mack. “You’re going along with this lunacy for one reason, same as me – the money. He says he’ll cut us off without a cent. That don’t sound any better to you than it does to me. You couldn’t survive 24 hours out there alone,” he said, flinging his arms at the dark, cold world that lay beyond the walls of the brownstone.
“I said I’d go along with this plan long before he threatened to disown anyone. He said that solely for your benefit, and you know it. Now listen, I realize this is a terrible predicament for all of us. I just think we should try to get along and make the--”
“Ah, go to hell!” muttered Mack, flopping down upon his bed.
“Well, I can tell you why I’m going,” Luke quipped. “Someone’s got to go along to keep you two from killing each other.” With that, they left the room. Mack would be passed out until the morning anyway.
Later that night, as Annie was packing her own things, her mother was on her mind. Leaving the house made her feel like she was losing her mother all over again. As though he was reading her mind, Matthew wandered in looking a little wistful, too. “I can’t help wondering what your mother would think about this,” he said. “The past few nights, I wake up and I’d swear she’s right there with me – I can feel her, smell her. I think she understands, I really do. She’s probably the only one who does.”
“No, Daddy. We understand, or at least some of us are trying to. Besides, if you feel this strongly about something you should go after it, no matter what. It’s going to be a big adjustment, that’s all. You just have to be patient with us, okay?” She smiled and gave him a quick kiss as he stood up. He suddenly looked tired and haggard.
“But anyway, we have a big day tomorrow, so I guess we’d better try to get some sleep, right?” He gave his daughter a big bear hug before he turned to leave. “I know I’m asking a lot from you, Annie. All I’m asking is just give it a chance, okay? I know one thing, nothing is ever going to be quite the same again.”
She tried to smile with as much reassurance as she could muster. She loved her father very much and wanted so badly for him to be happy. Maybe this was the answer. God alone knows, she thought. Better Him than any of us.
Sunday morning dawned cold and gray. The family sat around the table, displaying a veritable smorgasbord of emotion from the little boys’ excited chatter to Mack’s glaring hostility. The usual chaotic confusion ensued but Matthew sat calmly reading his newspaper, just like every other Sunday morning for twenty-five years.
“It says here,” he announced, “ that the Supreme Court will hand down it’s decision on whether draft dodgers have the five year statue of limitations. Those bastards!” he sputtered. “I can’t believe there’s a damn law to protect them.”
“Well, this is the land of the free and the home of the brave,” sneered Mack.
The conversation might have escalated to a full scale confrontation, but thankfully Sonny and his friends reported promptly at 8:00 as instructed. All the baggage was loaded onto the truck. After Mass the family would be picked up by two airport limos. It was going to look very believable – the Winston’s were going on a trip.
There were the last minute scrimmages, such as John trying to smuggle a basketball along and a couple of misplaced teddy bears, but finally, they were ready. They walked the two blocks to St. Gregory’s, accompanied by many of the household staff. As usual, they made their tardy and noisy entrance. Everyone, even Matthew, fidgeted as the service dragged on.
Amid the cheers and well wishes from their teary-eyed servants and friends, the Winston’s climbed into the two limos and were off. In a few minutes they passed through the Holland Tunnel and were soon delivered to their awaiting chariot. It looked like an ordinary large yellow school bus, except for the huge pile of baggage crowning the top. The interior had indeed been altered. Many of the standard seats had been removed and replaced by a table with four captains chairs and two small sofas. A refrigerator had been installed and the cribs for Joey and Becky were set up in the back.
Matthew wanted everyone settled and on the road by noon. Instead, there was mass confusion with the younger boys jumping and running about, and the older ones arguing over who should sit where.
“Hey, I’m hungry,” called out one of the boys. “We’re gonna eat, aren’t we?”
“It is noon,“ Annie said amid a chorus of hungry boys wanting lunch.
“I suppose we could eat now and then get on the road,“ Matthew conceded. “But let’s make it quick. I want to get going as soon as possible.”
Their first meal on the road was a disaster. They weren’t served half of what they ordered, probably because the poor waitress was so confused she was on the verge of tears. Everyone talked at once and wanted to change half of what they said. Milk glasses were spilled. Thomas and John argued as though they were back home sitting in front of the TV. Little Joey nearly fell out of the dilapidated old high chair and wouldn’t eat, shrieking loudly.
At that point, Sonny stood and walked out. Through the diner window, Annie saw him trudging toward the bus. And by the way Matthew hustled everyone out of the place soon afterward, it was clear that he wasn’t real happy either. “Just get on the bus and let’s go. Quiet down. Now!“ Finally, the motor started and they were on their way.
Unfortunately, no one took their father seriously. Even before they reached the turnpike, the volume inside the bus had reached a dull roar. There was constant arguing, screaming babies, and a steady stream of requests for something to eat or drink.
Someone even asked if they could pull into the first rest stop to use the bathroom.
There was so much wind resistance, especially with all the baggage on top, that Sonny was driving slower than expected. Less than 200 miles down the road, barely inside Pennsylvania, they pulled into a motel. Sonny had said very little throughout the afternoon even though the noise was maddening and he was hit twice on the back of the head with a flying football. He sat quietly in the driver’s seat while the others filed out.
Matthew stood back, looking dazed and annoyed. “Christ,” he muttered. “I bet traveling by cover wagon wasn’t this hard.”
After more scenes of pandemonium in the motel lobby and restaurant, Matthew finally strode into the bar. Sonny was already there, starting at a half empty glass of beer. Matthew nodded in Sonny’s direction and ordered his own. Neither man spoke.
Then Mack came in. “Well,” he started, “this is going great, isn’t it? The front desk called up twice because other guests are complaining. Andrew is trying to help Annie ‘cause Joey and the baby are screaming bloody murder. Luke’s got the rest of ‘em. Lots of luck! I couldn’t stand the little brats anymore.” He turned to stare at his father, looking as though he was going to say, I told you so. But, seeing his father’s expression, he thought better of it. He also sat down and ordered a beer, too, enjoying the relative peace and quiet of a noisy bar.
Matthew was on his third drink before any of them spoke. “Maybe what we need is a plan,” Sonny finally said. “Get some of this stuff organized ahead of time.”
“Yeah,” Matthew agreed, “like all the trouble we had in the restaurants today. I was thinking we should have teams. Divide the boys between Mack and Andrew. Luke can help Annie with the babies.”
“How come he gets all the cushy jobs?” Mack muttered.
“Mack,” Matthew continued, “you take Thomas and Danny. And Andrew can take John and Peter. Each team sits at separate tables – opposite corners, if necessary. Get it straight what everyone’s ordering even before you walk in.” He took several more swallows of his drink. “As I recall whenever we traveled with your mother, she always said we needed to allow time for the boys to work off energy. Like – eating lunch at a wayside and let them run around a little.”
“And how about making sure we have motels with an indoor pool,” added Mack, half-heartedly. “Let the little beasts work it off before dinner and maybe then they’ll go to bed and shut up.” Matthew and Sonny stared at him in utter amazement. “Don’t look so shocked,“ Mack said. “I come up with some decent ideas sometimes.“
“Okay, then,” Sonny said as he downed the last swallow of beer. “Sounds like we got a plan. I have to take care of a couple of things, so I’ll see you in the morning.”
Mack watched him go, scowling after him. “What couple of things does he have to check?” he grunted. “Wouldn’t surprise me if we got up some morning to find him and the money all gone. I suppose you told him where all the cash is, didn’t you.”
“Sure did – he helped me hide it. It’s probably one of the things he’s going to check. I don’t know why he peeves you so much, but remember, Mack, this is my idea, not his. If you think we’re having trouble now, just think what it would be like without him.” He finished his drink and pushed way from the bar. “I’m going to bed,” he announced. “You coming?”
“In a while. I like the scenery,” Mack said as he spun around on his stool, eyeing two shapely women as they walked by. “Don’t worry, I can find my own way. I’m a big boy now.”
“I know.” Matthew, threw some money on the bar. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Hey! Don’t you think some of us ought to know where it is, too?”
Matthew turned to stare intently at his son. “Just go to bed,” was all he said.
Sharply at noon, the doorbell rang and there was Sonny. Annie was ready. She grabbed her coat and purse and followed him out the door. “I took the liberty of calling a cab,” she said. “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to go down to Battery Park and ride the Staten Island Ferry.” He said nothing as he crawled into the cab and continued the silent treatment the entire trip. His refusal to make polite conversation still bothered her, probably because she lived in a world of superfluous chatter.
Her world. Her life. She watched as the familiar sights floated past the cab window. This city was her home. For all of its faults, she loved living in New York City. She wondered when she’d ever see these places again.
They boarded the ferry. Sonny led the way, scarcely looking back to see is she was keeping up. He made his way up the weathered brown and yellow stairs, and pushed open the door to go outside. He moved to the railing and leaned against a pillar. Annie chose a spot on a bench nearby, but no one watching would ever suspect they were traveling together. Soon, the horn blasted and slowly the old battered workhorse of the bay pulled away from its berth.
Annie gazed at the choppy water. A red tug scooted past. The Lady of the Harbor rose magnificently from her island. Annie’s nostrils were filled with the pungent sea smells. The soft purr of the diesels was accompanied by the squawk of the sea gulls as they dipped and glided overhead.
Ever since she was a little girl, she loved to ride the ferry, especially with her father. Perhaps it was true he had never developed much affection for shipbuilding, but he loved ships and the sea. He would point out one freighter or another – ones his company built or others he wished they had built.
She felt tears welling up, more out of anger and confusion than sadness. This was the legacy her father had bestowed upon his children. And yet it was he who was so intent on taking it away. Why did everything have to change like this?
She hated being so angry with her mother for dying, but none of this would be happening if she were still alive. It was her death that had pushed Matthew to the edge, made him start searching for something to belong to again. He believed this farm would help recapture some long ago dream, or perhaps it was just a desperate diversion from his pain. Annie wiped away her tears and looked out over the bay with renewed assurance that maybe it did make sense after all.
How much does the success of this new adventure rest on that man’s shoulders, she wondered as she once again contemplated Sonny. Was he saying good-bye, too? Was New York his home or just a place he paused in his journeys? And why did her father trust him so completely? She knew why. There was something about him. You could see it just the way he was standing there, his face into the wind, so damned self-assured.
She was certain that he intended to help them reach the farm, and then take the money and leave. Her father could hire a real foreman or hired hand or whatever you call such people. Perhaps they’d find a whole family – like on TV and movies. The husband does the farming, and the wife does the cooking and cleaning. Yes, that must be the way it’s done. She felt relieved. Maybe things weren’t as bleak as she first thought.
The ferry reached the Island and they disembarked. They took another cab to the Sears store. Once inside, he guided her to the catalog desk. Sonny was right. This was not Madison Avenue, Annie thought as she surveyed the plain surroundings. There were racks of flannel shirts and sweatshirts with hand written 25% discount signs.
“May I help you?“ asked the crisp saleslady at the catalog counter as she glanced at them over the top of her horn-rimmed glasses.
Annie cleared her throat a little and said, “Yes, I’d like to place an order and have it shipped to Dubuque, Iowa, please.”
“I see,” the woman said, reaching for her order pad, putting the carbon in place with a great flourish. “You do realize that you’ll have to pay for the entire order in advance.”
“Yes, so I’ve been told.” Annie cast a quick glance toward Sonny. “Here it is.”
The clerk glared angrily at Annie after she counted the four pages of neatly printed lists. “Young lady, is this some kind of joke? This is hundreds of dollars of merchandise?”
“Yes, I know. $954.66 See, it‘s all added up, including tax--”
“Look,” Sonny broke in rudely, “do you want our business or not? If you’re too busy to take care of this, I’m sure J.C. Penny’s would be happy to handle this.”
“Young man, I’d be happy to place this order except -- except there are no weights listed here. We require those so that shipping charges can be assessed. It would take hours for me to find the weights for each of these items!”
Just then a pleasant looking young woman came up and tapped the clerk on the shoulder. “Miss Beamers, I’m going on my lunch break now, okay?”
Sonny blocked her path and waved a fifty dollar bill in her face. “Miss,” he said, “how would you like to make a fast fifty bucks on your lunch break today?”
“What?” she stammered, looking as though she wondered is she should call the police. “I’m meeting my boyfriend and --”
“Good! If he wants to help, I’ll give him fifty bucks, too. We need weights for everything on this list. If we each take a page, we can get it done fast.”
“Oh, I see. Okay, sure. C’mon, we can go to the cafeteria.” She took four of the huge catalogs from beneath the counter and led the way. Annie stood there, stunned, until Sonny grabbed her and pulled her a long.
One hour later, it was done. The manager of the store heard about it and offered any assistance they might need. When Annie reached into her purse and took out a stack of cash, a security guard was summoned because the cash drawer wouldn’t hold that much money. “I’m afraid I’m a little short,” Annie said, shamefaced. “I didn’t know about the shipping charges.”
“Ah, Jeez,” moaned Sonny. “Here, I have it covered.” The bill was settled and soon they were back out onto the street. Luckily, a cab was just letting off a rider. Sonny shoved Annie inside. He folded his arms across his chest and sat stone-faced.
Annie watched him out of the corner of her eye until she couldn’t stand it any longer. “What are you mad at now?” she demanded.
He didn’t answer at first, looking as though he wasn’t sure he wanted another confrontation with her. “All right, then,” he said, readjusting himself in his seat. “You walk into a store with nearly a thousand dollars worth of cash business and you apologize all the way through it. Christ! You should have had them kissing your feet!”
“Let me get this straight – you’re mad at me? Why? Because I didn’t get hostile right away? Some people might call that good manners!”
“You have to learn how to handle yourself in those situations! You’re such a baby! What would you do if you were on your own?”
She sputtered and stammered but nothing came out! Never had she been so insulted! Sonny just leaned back in his seat and looked as though he was going to take a nap, which further infuriated her. So I have no guts, eh? No confidence? I have never had to make decisions before. I’ve always been taken care of and assumed I always would.
That is until now. Suddenly that familiar shiver of fright jolted through her and she fought back tears again. She wanted to cry obscenities at this egotistical jerk and pound upon his chest until he he’d listen to her. I’ll show him, she vowed, even if it kills me!
Saturday morning everyone was up early. The boys were told to lay everything out on their beds and then Matthew, Annie, or Andrew could come around to check it. There were some tough decisions to be made. Peter couldn’t decide whether to bring his rock collection or his baseball cards. Thomas was angry because neither of his guitars would fit in his trunk. At first Matthew stubbornly refused to make any exceptions, but was coaxed into allowing Thomas to bring one. Then he made a thunderous announcement that no one else had better ask for any other special compensation.
By supper, most of the trunks and luggage were packed and stacked in the foyer. There was a hush that fell over the house as even the younger boys seemed to understand the significance of this last night at home. Tomorrow they would begin what Matthew called their great adventure. Annie and Grace went through the baby things. Many of the blankets and sleepers held special remembrances so they found themselves recounting old stories as they packed, alternately laughing and crying.
Mack slipped down the hallway trying to get into his room undetected. He opened his door to find Andrew and Luke standing by his bed, which was piled with clothes and toiletries.
“Oh, God,” he groaned. “What have we here? Daddy’s little helpers?”
“C’mon, Mack, we’re just trying to help,” Luke explained. “We’re leaving right after Mass in the morning, and you don’t have your stuff together.”
“Hey, who says I’m goin’ to this funny farm anyway,” Mack sneered.
“Shhh! Just pipe down,” scowled Andrew. “In case you don’t realize it, its late. So just shut up and decide what you want to bring along. We laid some stuff out already.”
“You boys are just too good to me,” Mack jeered. He picked up armfuls of clothes and flung them across the room.
“Okay, Mack, we get that you’re drunk and in a vile mood, but we don’t care,” Andrew said as he picked up some clothes off the floor. “You could try to be a little adult about this. Going out and getting drunk every night doesn’t help anything.”
“Oh, just shut up,” snarled Mack. “You make me sick, you hypocritical ass. You know as well as I do that this is the most fucked up idea you’ve ever heard, but you always go along with anything the old man says. At least I stand up to him!”
“Making my father happy makes me a hypocrite?” Andrew retorted. “He wants us to stick together. I can understand that. For God’s sake, why can’t you?”
“Oh, hell, Andrew!” cried Mack. “You’re going along with this lunacy for one reason, same as me – the money. He says he’ll cut us off without a cent. That don’t sound any better to you than it does to me. You couldn’t survive 24 hours out there alone,” he said, flinging his arms at the dark, cold world that lay beyond the walls of the brownstone.
“I said I’d go along with this plan long before he threatened to disown anyone. He said that solely for your benefit, and you know it. Now listen, I realize this is a terrible predicament for all of us. I just think we should try to get along and make the--”
“Ah, go to hell!” muttered Mack, flopping down upon his bed.
“Well, I can tell you why I’m going,” Luke quipped. “Someone’s got to go along to keep you two from killing each other.” With that, they left the room. Mack would be passed out until the morning anyway.
Later that night, as Annie was packing her own things, her mother was on her mind. Leaving the house made her feel like she was losing her mother all over again. As though he was reading her mind, Matthew wandered in looking a little wistful, too. “I can’t help wondering what your mother would think about this,” he said. “The past few nights, I wake up and I’d swear she’s right there with me – I can feel her, smell her. I think she understands, I really do. She’s probably the only one who does.”
“No, Daddy. We understand, or at least some of us are trying to. Besides, if you feel this strongly about something you should go after it, no matter what. It’s going to be a big adjustment, that’s all. You just have to be patient with us, okay?” She smiled and gave him a quick kiss as he stood up. He suddenly looked tired and haggard.
“But anyway, we have a big day tomorrow, so I guess we’d better try to get some sleep, right?” He gave his daughter a big bear hug before he turned to leave. “I know I’m asking a lot from you, Annie. All I’m asking is just give it a chance, okay? I know one thing, nothing is ever going to be quite the same again.”
She tried to smile with as much reassurance as she could muster. She loved her father very much and wanted so badly for him to be happy. Maybe this was the answer. God alone knows, she thought. Better Him than any of us.
Sunday morning dawned cold and gray. The family sat around the table, displaying a veritable smorgasbord of emotion from the little boys’ excited chatter to Mack’s glaring hostility. The usual chaotic confusion ensued but Matthew sat calmly reading his newspaper, just like every other Sunday morning for twenty-five years.
“It says here,” he announced, “ that the Supreme Court will hand down it’s decision on whether draft dodgers have the five year statue of limitations. Those bastards!” he sputtered. “I can’t believe there’s a damn law to protect them.”
“Well, this is the land of the free and the home of the brave,” sneered Mack.
The conversation might have escalated to a full scale confrontation, but thankfully Sonny and his friends reported promptly at 8:00 as instructed. All the baggage was loaded onto the truck. After Mass the family would be picked up by two airport limos. It was going to look very believable – the Winston’s were going on a trip.
There were the last minute scrimmages, such as John trying to smuggle a basketball along and a couple of misplaced teddy bears, but finally, they were ready. They walked the two blocks to St. Gregory’s, accompanied by many of the household staff. As usual, they made their tardy and noisy entrance. Everyone, even Matthew, fidgeted as the service dragged on.
Amid the cheers and well wishes from their teary-eyed servants and friends, the Winston’s climbed into the two limos and were off. In a few minutes they passed through the Holland Tunnel and were soon delivered to their awaiting chariot. It looked like an ordinary large yellow school bus, except for the huge pile of baggage crowning the top. The interior had indeed been altered. Many of the standard seats had been removed and replaced by a table with four captains chairs and two small sofas. A refrigerator had been installed and the cribs for Joey and Becky were set up in the back.
Matthew wanted everyone settled and on the road by noon. Instead, there was mass confusion with the younger boys jumping and running about, and the older ones arguing over who should sit where.
“Hey, I’m hungry,” called out one of the boys. “We’re gonna eat, aren’t we?”
“It is noon,“ Annie said amid a chorus of hungry boys wanting lunch.
“I suppose we could eat now and then get on the road,“ Matthew conceded. “But let’s make it quick. I want to get going as soon as possible.”
Their first meal on the road was a disaster. They weren’t served half of what they ordered, probably because the poor waitress was so confused she was on the verge of tears. Everyone talked at once and wanted to change half of what they said. Milk glasses were spilled. Thomas and John argued as though they were back home sitting in front of the TV. Little Joey nearly fell out of the dilapidated old high chair and wouldn’t eat, shrieking loudly.
At that point, Sonny stood and walked out. Through the diner window, Annie saw him trudging toward the bus. And by the way Matthew hustled everyone out of the place soon afterward, it was clear that he wasn’t real happy either. “Just get on the bus and let’s go. Quiet down. Now!“ Finally, the motor started and they were on their way.
Unfortunately, no one took their father seriously. Even before they reached the turnpike, the volume inside the bus had reached a dull roar. There was constant arguing, screaming babies, and a steady stream of requests for something to eat or drink.
Someone even asked if they could pull into the first rest stop to use the bathroom.
There was so much wind resistance, especially with all the baggage on top, that Sonny was driving slower than expected. Less than 200 miles down the road, barely inside Pennsylvania, they pulled into a motel. Sonny had said very little throughout the afternoon even though the noise was maddening and he was hit twice on the back of the head with a flying football. He sat quietly in the driver’s seat while the others filed out.
Matthew stood back, looking dazed and annoyed. “Christ,” he muttered. “I bet traveling by cover wagon wasn’t this hard.”
After more scenes of pandemonium in the motel lobby and restaurant, Matthew finally strode into the bar. Sonny was already there, starting at a half empty glass of beer. Matthew nodded in Sonny’s direction and ordered his own. Neither man spoke.
Then Mack came in. “Well,” he started, “this is going great, isn’t it? The front desk called up twice because other guests are complaining. Andrew is trying to help Annie ‘cause Joey and the baby are screaming bloody murder. Luke’s got the rest of ‘em. Lots of luck! I couldn’t stand the little brats anymore.” He turned to stare at his father, looking as though he was going to say, I told you so. But, seeing his father’s expression, he thought better of it. He also sat down and ordered a beer, too, enjoying the relative peace and quiet of a noisy bar.
Matthew was on his third drink before any of them spoke. “Maybe what we need is a plan,” Sonny finally said. “Get some of this stuff organized ahead of time.”
“Yeah,” Matthew agreed, “like all the trouble we had in the restaurants today. I was thinking we should have teams. Divide the boys between Mack and Andrew. Luke can help Annie with the babies.”
“How come he gets all the cushy jobs?” Mack muttered.
“Mack,” Matthew continued, “you take Thomas and Danny. And Andrew can take John and Peter. Each team sits at separate tables – opposite corners, if necessary. Get it straight what everyone’s ordering even before you walk in.” He took several more swallows of his drink. “As I recall whenever we traveled with your mother, she always said we needed to allow time for the boys to work off energy. Like – eating lunch at a wayside and let them run around a little.”
“And how about making sure we have motels with an indoor pool,” added Mack, half-heartedly. “Let the little beasts work it off before dinner and maybe then they’ll go to bed and shut up.” Matthew and Sonny stared at him in utter amazement. “Don’t look so shocked,“ Mack said. “I come up with some decent ideas sometimes.“
“Okay, then,” Sonny said as he downed the last swallow of beer. “Sounds like we got a plan. I have to take care of a couple of things, so I’ll see you in the morning.”
Mack watched him go, scowling after him. “What couple of things does he have to check?” he grunted. “Wouldn’t surprise me if we got up some morning to find him and the money all gone. I suppose you told him where all the cash is, didn’t you.”
“Sure did – he helped me hide it. It’s probably one of the things he’s going to check. I don’t know why he peeves you so much, but remember, Mack, this is my idea, not his. If you think we’re having trouble now, just think what it would be like without him.” He finished his drink and pushed way from the bar. “I’m going to bed,” he announced. “You coming?”
“In a while. I like the scenery,” Mack said as he spun around on his stool, eyeing two shapely women as they walked by. “Don’t worry, I can find my own way. I’m a big boy now.”
“I know.” Matthew, threw some money on the bar. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Hey! Don’t you think some of us ought to know where it is, too?”
Matthew turned to stare intently at his son. “Just go to bed,” was all he said.
Chapter 8_ _ _ _
Chapter 6
_
They didn’t hear from Matthew until he called early the next morning. He and Sonny worked all night, but he sounded upbeat and enthusiastic. “We started the modifications on the bus but still had several hours of work to do” he said. “We won’t to be back until Wednesday evening sometime. I can’t wait for you all to see this thing. It looks great. This kid is really good with tools!” It was clear that Matthew was even more enamored with Sonny that before.
Annie wondered around the house those two days, knowing there was probably countless things she should be doing, but she had no idea where to begin.
Wednesday night, Matthew and Sonny appeared. Their clothes were greasy and smelly, but their father was grinning from ear to ear.
“It’s done!” he announced triumphantly. The bus is ready to go. Now, what did you get done while were gone?” he asked, noticing their blank faces. “You didn’t do anything? This is Wednesday! We have to get going!”
“But Daddy, we had no idea where to start – what to do!“ Annie retorted.
Matthew brushed past them. “Giles!” he roared. “Bring me a drink – a large one!”
Later, when the house was quiet, Annie went looking for Sonny. She found him in the library, reading one of the magazines he had brought Matthew. She paused at the doorway to study him for a moment. She had never known anyone like him before – his face was so intense, his features so dark and severe. She guessed him to be about Mack’s age, early twenties, but he had a presence of self-assurance and wariness beyond his years. As much as they mistrusted him, he probably mistrusted them more. He was looking at her then, so she turned away quickly, no match for those cold, penetrating eyes.
She sat the tray down and offered him some coffee. He nodded and took a cup, saying nothing. She felt the color rushing to her cheeks. Damn, she thought, biting her lip. Why do I let him intimidate me like this? She swallowed hard, determined to have a civil conversation with this man.
“Daddy’s right, I guess,” she started. “We didn’t get anything accomplished. But honestly, none of us have any idea where to begin. You know, like specifically what we should bring and how much or --” Her voice trailed off. She had meant that to be a question but somehow he always made it impossible to speak directly. “You mentioned household goods before. Like what do you mean? Pots and pans? Linens?”
He sat sipping his coffee, still looking at the magazine. “I have some ideas, but it’s going to take a lot to outfit a family with ten kids.”
She bristled a little, realizing he was placing her in that category. “Mr. Jackson, we can be organized. We’ve packed up this family for vacations many times. We just need a little direction to get started. You’re supposed to be the expert here.”
“Okay, sure, but I ain’t no miracle worker.”
“It’ll take a miracle, won’t it. My father doesn’t have the vaguest idea what he’s getting into. If it’s going to be so damned hard, why are you going along with it? Is this some kind of sick joke to you?” He said nothing, which exasperated her even more. “Has anyone ever told you that you are a rude, conceited, over-bearing sonofabitch!” And then she fled, but she wished she had stayed long enough to see if that last statement registered any kind of reaction on that smug face.
Every muscle in Matthew’s body ached. He had never worked that hard in his life. He needed a shower and some sleep, but he stopped at the nursery door on the way to his own room. The sight of his baby daughter sleeping in her crib was a welcome sight. He stood there watching her for several minutes. She was smiling in her sleep. Matthew wondered what happy dreams were inside that tiny head. He reached down and gathered her into his arms.
The baby cried out upon being disturbed, and Grace came running into the room. She stopped short when she saw Mathew. He noted her look of disapproval, but didn’t care. This was his child and he had the right to hold her if he wanted. As he sat down in the rocker, Grace turned to leave. “No, don’t go,” Matthew called after her. “If there’s something you want to say, just say it.”
She hesitated at the doorway, looking as though she wasn’t sure she should stay. Finally, she sat down in the other chair, rocking in quick, jerky movements. It was easy to see that the gentle old woman was angry.
“Grace, we’ve known each other for a long time – since Mack was a baby. I know you’re upset. That’s understandable, but --”
“What’s understandable?” Grace blurted, purple showing in her sagging, gray cheeks. “That you’re uprooting this family? Taking these children to God knows where.”
Matthew did not answer at first, weighing his words carefully. “Grace, I know this sounds crazy – maybe it is, but I have to do it.”
“For God’s sake, why? Of course, you’ve been upset since Mrs. Winston’s passing, God bless her soul, but is that any reason to make such a radical change? Surely, you don’t think that we’re – the household staff, I mean – that we’re going to come with you?“
“No, of course not --”
“Well, then what’s to become of us? Are you serving notice? And who would hire us? Some of us have worked under this roof for over twenty years.”
“Grace, I assure you that you can live here as long as you wish. We’re not moving out of this house – at least not right away. We have to see how things are.”
“But who’s going to take care of the children – that baby you have in your arms and little Joey. Who is going to look after them?”
“Annie? Me? We all will--”
“Oh, that preposterous! Mr. Winston, you are a very smart man – or at least I always thought you were. How are you going to pull this off with no plan? You have no idea what you‘re doing.”
“Grace, I don’t expect you to understand – I’m not sure I understand myself, but this is something I have to do. I can’t live in this house any more – not now, anyway. This was Kathleen’s house. Everywhere I turn, every step I take, she’s here.”
“Of course, she is. She filled it with so much joy and love. I should think that would give you comfort.”
“It’s eating me up alive, Grace. I feel like I can’t breathe. I have to do this, not just for me, but for all of us.”
“You think this is going to be good for your children? How is that possible? You’re taking them away from the only home they have ever known. That’s insane.”
“Yes, I am doing this for them. I never told anyone, but do you know what Kathleen’s last words were? She said our kids had everything, but they don’t know how to dream. I didn’t know what that meant then, but I think I do now. I look at the boys and I see a bunch of spoiled, pampered brats who have no idea what they want out of life. They’ve never had to work for a damned thing. Mack is a playboy, carousing all night. What is he doing with his life? Nothing.”
“But Mr. Winston, Kathleen loved her children. She always--”
“Look, I’m not saying she didn’t do a wonderful job. But now I’m on my own now. They are my responsibility. I have to do what I think is best.”
“I think you’re making a terrible mistake. This cannot be good for anyone.”
“You may be right, Grace.” He stood up then and handed the sleeping baby back to her nanny. “But there’s no way of knowing if we don’t at least try.” He left the room without waiting for a response. He had pleaded his case as best as he could. Maybe if he said it enough times, he might actually believe it himself.
The next morning Annie sat at the kitchen table, talking with Cook. The question Annie had put before her was simple. “What would I need to cook for this family? How many pots n’ pans? How much of everything?” Annie’s pencil stood poised, ready to make lists.
Matthew wondered in, nonchalantly pouring himself a cup of coffee, but then he noticed their faces. “What’s going on here?” he asked.
“You’re the one who says we have to get started packing, Daddy. I thought I’d get started on things for the kitchen,” Annie explained.
Cook’s round, horror-stricken face said things were not that simple at all. “Does she want to take things from this kitchen to that place-- that farm?” she asked, waving her stubby arms around her immaculate kitchen. This room had been her exclusive domain these past twenty-odd years.
“Now, now, Miss Daley, Annie doesn’t mean that all,” Matthew said, trying to diffuse the situation. “We plan to keep this house just as it is. I’m sure Annie just needs to know what kinds of things she’ll need to set up her own kitchen.”
“Excuse me, sir, but do you mean Miss Annie is going to be doin’ the cookin’ for you all? Well, bless my soul, chil’. I didn’t know you knew how to cook. Maybe we’d better go over some of my favorite recipes like--”
“No, no, that’s all right,” Annie said quickly, gathering up her things. She felt embarrassed and self-conscious. It did sound absurd to think she could cook for this family. “I just remembered I have an appointment,” she lied. “We can talk later.”
She rushed out of the room and almost ran into Sonny who was standing in the doorway. Oh great, she thought. He’s observed another little touching scene. She pushed past him, still determined to accomplish something. She went to the library and squatted down next to the coffee table and spread out her papers again. There were thirteen neatly labeled sheets, one for each member of the family, one labeled “Essentials i.e. Household items” and one for “Non-essentials.” They were each nicely titled but beyond that, they were empty.
“So, you like making lists, huh?” Sonny broke in, startling her.
“Yes, I do, for all the good it does me,” she muttered angrily, trying not to cry. “I had such high hopes for today. I was going to get so much done!” She wished he would leave so she could throw a tantrum in private.
“I know, that’s why I brought you this.” He threw a huge book on the table that said, “Sears and Roebuck, Winter ‘70.” She looked up at him and from this position he looked even more imposing and intimidating. “Open it. It’s got everything.” He sounded sincere, but Annie still gritted her teeth. She could not stand his cocky intrusions anymore. He moved to the chair across from her and flipped the catolog open. “You can go through and pick out stuff for everybody – clothes and boots, even coveralls.” He turned the pages quickly until he found pictures of men modeling heavy-looking , one piece striped outfits, obviously work clothes of some kind. “Guess they don’t sell these on Madison Avenue.”
He was being pleasant enough and Annie tried to be appreciative, but suddenly it struck her funny, She envisioned her father standing knee-deep in mud, wearing one of these things – or Andrew or Mack. Oh, God, that was even funnier. She snickered and then broke into a full-blown fit of laughter.
Sonny obviously did not see the humor, which made Annie laugh even harder. He closed the catalog with a resounding thump and started to leave.
“Hey!” she called after him “I was just imagining my dad or Mack wearing one of these things, and it just struck me funny, that’s all. I like this catalog idea. So, I make out the lists of what everyone needs. Then what?”
“Place the order and pay for it,” he answered, somewhat condescending, she thought. “There’s a Sears store on Staten Island. We can have the stuff delivered to the store in Iowa.” He started to leave again.
“What? You mean we pay before we get anything?”
“You can trust Sears and Roebuck. They’ve been around at least as long as Bloomingdale’s. I’ll handle this,” he said, picking up the sheets labeled, “Misc.- Essentials and Non”. He went into the foyer and reached for his coat.
“But what about you, or do you already have your ‘coverall’?”
He didn’t bother to answer. Once again he left without saying anything.
The rest of the day and evening, Annie wandered from room to room, checking sizes and making notes. She hated to admit it, but the catalog idea was great. It had everything in every size. Luckily, Mack was out all day. She dreaded explaining his new wardrobe to him. Better to let him be surprised.
Sonny appeared at their door again later that night. He swung the door open wide, calling, “Just put it all in here!” The Winston’s watched as their foyer became transformed into at an Army Surplus store with stacks of trunks and boxes of every description. “Remember, be back here Sunday morning – 8:00 AM sharp,” Sonny directed the two men as he dispensed a tip to each.
“Sonny, what’s all this?” Matthew asked, looking very pleased. “If we take all this, there won’t be any room left for passengers.”
“There’s thirteen trunks and large suitcases -- one for each of you. It should all fit in the rack we built on top of the bus. There’s a tarp here somewhere to cover it all.” He started moving through the piles. “I paid for all this with the money left over from the bus deal. Here’s the rest.” He dug into his pockets and took out some bills and change.
“No, Sonny,” Matthew said, smiling. “You keep it for whatever comes up.”
Sonny nodded and started to leave again, then turned to look directly at Annie. “You be ready at noon tomorrow.” She felt as though she should salute, but he was gone as quickly as he had come.
They stood there silently for a few minutes, surveying the mess. This was it – real, tangible evidence that this wasn’t a dream. It was really going to happen.
Annie reminded the boys as they went out the door for their last day of school not to tell anyone where they were going. “If anyone asks,” she said as they were walking out the door, “just say we’re leaving for a long vacation.”
A few minutes later, Mack came thundering down the stairs, looking as though he was going to explode. Annie gestured toward the dining room. There was going to be another scene.
“What the fuck did you do?” Mack screamed at his father.
“My, my,” Matthew responded, still looking at the morning paper. “We’re a little cranky this morning, aren’t we.”
“Yeah, you could say that. I get that way when I find myself twenty miles from home with no cash and my credit cards don’t work. How could you?”
“How could I what?”
“You know goddamn well what I’m talking about. And what about my car? Where in the hell is my car?”
“You lost your car?”
“Lost it? Hell no! I left it at the curb, and two hours later I come out to find it gone. My God, did you have it towed?”
“You’re forgetting something, son. Legally, that is my car.”
“The hell it is! You and Mother gave it to me for my 21st birthday.”
“True, but if you bothered to check, you would have seen that it’s titled and registered in my name. That nice policeman I talked to was very sympathetic when I reported it stolen.”
“Fuck! You can’t do that.”
“I already have. Your bank account and credit cards are frozen. Your car is gone. Welcome to the real world, Mack.”
“You’re trying to railroad me into this farm thing, aren’t you. Well, fuck that and fuck you. You can’t make me go.”
“Fine. Stay here, but you’ll need a job because I’m not giving you one cent.”
“I can do that – get a job, I mean.”
“How? You’ve never worked in your life. You have no skills, no experience.”
“I could work at your company, right?”
“No, because I wouldn’t hire you, and neither would anyone else.”
“So you think dragging me off to that farm is going to make a difference?”
Matthew put down his paper and folded it thoughtfully. Looking hard at his oldest son, he put his hands together, resting his elbows on the table. “Mack, I am getting real tired of your whining.”
“I’ll go back to school.“
“And do what? What are you going to major in – drinking and whoring?”
Matthew got up and walked around the table. “I realize that in many ways I have failed in my responsibility in teaching you how to be a man. Have you looked in a mirror lately? You’ll never get yourself together living like this.”
“But, Pop, I’m only drinking because--”
“Look. I’ll make you a deal. You stick it out until our first harvest – should be late October or early November. That goes for all of you,” he said, waving his arm to encompass all three of his eldest children. “If you’re still hell-bent to leave, then you can come back here with my blessing. You can go back to school or whatever, and I will continue to support you.”
He squared his shoulders and took a deep, hard breath. “None of you have ever wanted for anything. You’re adults now but you act like spoiled children.” He sighed deeply again. “If you decide you really don’t want to go with us, I guess that’s your right. But if you’re not there when we board that bus, I’ll see to it that you’re cut off without a dime, not even your grandfather’s trust fund. It’s time you learn about the real world, one way or another.”
Matthew turned and walked upstairs. Mack said nothing, drank some coffee, and then left the house again.
They didn’t hear from Matthew until he called early the next morning. He and Sonny worked all night, but he sounded upbeat and enthusiastic. “We started the modifications on the bus but still had several hours of work to do” he said. “We won’t to be back until Wednesday evening sometime. I can’t wait for you all to see this thing. It looks great. This kid is really good with tools!” It was clear that Matthew was even more enamored with Sonny that before.
Annie wondered around the house those two days, knowing there was probably countless things she should be doing, but she had no idea where to begin.
Wednesday night, Matthew and Sonny appeared. Their clothes were greasy and smelly, but their father was grinning from ear to ear.
“It’s done!” he announced triumphantly. The bus is ready to go. Now, what did you get done while were gone?” he asked, noticing their blank faces. “You didn’t do anything? This is Wednesday! We have to get going!”
“But Daddy, we had no idea where to start – what to do!“ Annie retorted.
Matthew brushed past them. “Giles!” he roared. “Bring me a drink – a large one!”
Later, when the house was quiet, Annie went looking for Sonny. She found him in the library, reading one of the magazines he had brought Matthew. She paused at the doorway to study him for a moment. She had never known anyone like him before – his face was so intense, his features so dark and severe. She guessed him to be about Mack’s age, early twenties, but he had a presence of self-assurance and wariness beyond his years. As much as they mistrusted him, he probably mistrusted them more. He was looking at her then, so she turned away quickly, no match for those cold, penetrating eyes.
She sat the tray down and offered him some coffee. He nodded and took a cup, saying nothing. She felt the color rushing to her cheeks. Damn, she thought, biting her lip. Why do I let him intimidate me like this? She swallowed hard, determined to have a civil conversation with this man.
“Daddy’s right, I guess,” she started. “We didn’t get anything accomplished. But honestly, none of us have any idea where to begin. You know, like specifically what we should bring and how much or --” Her voice trailed off. She had meant that to be a question but somehow he always made it impossible to speak directly. “You mentioned household goods before. Like what do you mean? Pots and pans? Linens?”
He sat sipping his coffee, still looking at the magazine. “I have some ideas, but it’s going to take a lot to outfit a family with ten kids.”
She bristled a little, realizing he was placing her in that category. “Mr. Jackson, we can be organized. We’ve packed up this family for vacations many times. We just need a little direction to get started. You’re supposed to be the expert here.”
“Okay, sure, but I ain’t no miracle worker.”
“It’ll take a miracle, won’t it. My father doesn’t have the vaguest idea what he’s getting into. If it’s going to be so damned hard, why are you going along with it? Is this some kind of sick joke to you?” He said nothing, which exasperated her even more. “Has anyone ever told you that you are a rude, conceited, over-bearing sonofabitch!” And then she fled, but she wished she had stayed long enough to see if that last statement registered any kind of reaction on that smug face.
Every muscle in Matthew’s body ached. He had never worked that hard in his life. He needed a shower and some sleep, but he stopped at the nursery door on the way to his own room. The sight of his baby daughter sleeping in her crib was a welcome sight. He stood there watching her for several minutes. She was smiling in her sleep. Matthew wondered what happy dreams were inside that tiny head. He reached down and gathered her into his arms.
The baby cried out upon being disturbed, and Grace came running into the room. She stopped short when she saw Mathew. He noted her look of disapproval, but didn’t care. This was his child and he had the right to hold her if he wanted. As he sat down in the rocker, Grace turned to leave. “No, don’t go,” Matthew called after her. “If there’s something you want to say, just say it.”
She hesitated at the doorway, looking as though she wasn’t sure she should stay. Finally, she sat down in the other chair, rocking in quick, jerky movements. It was easy to see that the gentle old woman was angry.
“Grace, we’ve known each other for a long time – since Mack was a baby. I know you’re upset. That’s understandable, but --”
“What’s understandable?” Grace blurted, purple showing in her sagging, gray cheeks. “That you’re uprooting this family? Taking these children to God knows where.”
Matthew did not answer at first, weighing his words carefully. “Grace, I know this sounds crazy – maybe it is, but I have to do it.”
“For God’s sake, why? Of course, you’ve been upset since Mrs. Winston’s passing, God bless her soul, but is that any reason to make such a radical change? Surely, you don’t think that we’re – the household staff, I mean – that we’re going to come with you?“
“No, of course not --”
“Well, then what’s to become of us? Are you serving notice? And who would hire us? Some of us have worked under this roof for over twenty years.”
“Grace, I assure you that you can live here as long as you wish. We’re not moving out of this house – at least not right away. We have to see how things are.”
“But who’s going to take care of the children – that baby you have in your arms and little Joey. Who is going to look after them?”
“Annie? Me? We all will--”
“Oh, that preposterous! Mr. Winston, you are a very smart man – or at least I always thought you were. How are you going to pull this off with no plan? You have no idea what you‘re doing.”
“Grace, I don’t expect you to understand – I’m not sure I understand myself, but this is something I have to do. I can’t live in this house any more – not now, anyway. This was Kathleen’s house. Everywhere I turn, every step I take, she’s here.”
“Of course, she is. She filled it with so much joy and love. I should think that would give you comfort.”
“It’s eating me up alive, Grace. I feel like I can’t breathe. I have to do this, not just for me, but for all of us.”
“You think this is going to be good for your children? How is that possible? You’re taking them away from the only home they have ever known. That’s insane.”
“Yes, I am doing this for them. I never told anyone, but do you know what Kathleen’s last words were? She said our kids had everything, but they don’t know how to dream. I didn’t know what that meant then, but I think I do now. I look at the boys and I see a bunch of spoiled, pampered brats who have no idea what they want out of life. They’ve never had to work for a damned thing. Mack is a playboy, carousing all night. What is he doing with his life? Nothing.”
“But Mr. Winston, Kathleen loved her children. She always--”
“Look, I’m not saying she didn’t do a wonderful job. But now I’m on my own now. They are my responsibility. I have to do what I think is best.”
“I think you’re making a terrible mistake. This cannot be good for anyone.”
“You may be right, Grace.” He stood up then and handed the sleeping baby back to her nanny. “But there’s no way of knowing if we don’t at least try.” He left the room without waiting for a response. He had pleaded his case as best as he could. Maybe if he said it enough times, he might actually believe it himself.
The next morning Annie sat at the kitchen table, talking with Cook. The question Annie had put before her was simple. “What would I need to cook for this family? How many pots n’ pans? How much of everything?” Annie’s pencil stood poised, ready to make lists.
Matthew wondered in, nonchalantly pouring himself a cup of coffee, but then he noticed their faces. “What’s going on here?” he asked.
“You’re the one who says we have to get started packing, Daddy. I thought I’d get started on things for the kitchen,” Annie explained.
Cook’s round, horror-stricken face said things were not that simple at all. “Does she want to take things from this kitchen to that place-- that farm?” she asked, waving her stubby arms around her immaculate kitchen. This room had been her exclusive domain these past twenty-odd years.
“Now, now, Miss Daley, Annie doesn’t mean that all,” Matthew said, trying to diffuse the situation. “We plan to keep this house just as it is. I’m sure Annie just needs to know what kinds of things she’ll need to set up her own kitchen.”
“Excuse me, sir, but do you mean Miss Annie is going to be doin’ the cookin’ for you all? Well, bless my soul, chil’. I didn’t know you knew how to cook. Maybe we’d better go over some of my favorite recipes like--”
“No, no, that’s all right,” Annie said quickly, gathering up her things. She felt embarrassed and self-conscious. It did sound absurd to think she could cook for this family. “I just remembered I have an appointment,” she lied. “We can talk later.”
She rushed out of the room and almost ran into Sonny who was standing in the doorway. Oh great, she thought. He’s observed another little touching scene. She pushed past him, still determined to accomplish something. She went to the library and squatted down next to the coffee table and spread out her papers again. There were thirteen neatly labeled sheets, one for each member of the family, one labeled “Essentials i.e. Household items” and one for “Non-essentials.” They were each nicely titled but beyond that, they were empty.
“So, you like making lists, huh?” Sonny broke in, startling her.
“Yes, I do, for all the good it does me,” she muttered angrily, trying not to cry. “I had such high hopes for today. I was going to get so much done!” She wished he would leave so she could throw a tantrum in private.
“I know, that’s why I brought you this.” He threw a huge book on the table that said, “Sears and Roebuck, Winter ‘70.” She looked up at him and from this position he looked even more imposing and intimidating. “Open it. It’s got everything.” He sounded sincere, but Annie still gritted her teeth. She could not stand his cocky intrusions anymore. He moved to the chair across from her and flipped the catolog open. “You can go through and pick out stuff for everybody – clothes and boots, even coveralls.” He turned the pages quickly until he found pictures of men modeling heavy-looking , one piece striped outfits, obviously work clothes of some kind. “Guess they don’t sell these on Madison Avenue.”
He was being pleasant enough and Annie tried to be appreciative, but suddenly it struck her funny, She envisioned her father standing knee-deep in mud, wearing one of these things – or Andrew or Mack. Oh, God, that was even funnier. She snickered and then broke into a full-blown fit of laughter.
Sonny obviously did not see the humor, which made Annie laugh even harder. He closed the catalog with a resounding thump and started to leave.
“Hey!” she called after him “I was just imagining my dad or Mack wearing one of these things, and it just struck me funny, that’s all. I like this catalog idea. So, I make out the lists of what everyone needs. Then what?”
“Place the order and pay for it,” he answered, somewhat condescending, she thought. “There’s a Sears store on Staten Island. We can have the stuff delivered to the store in Iowa.” He started to leave again.
“What? You mean we pay before we get anything?”
“You can trust Sears and Roebuck. They’ve been around at least as long as Bloomingdale’s. I’ll handle this,” he said, picking up the sheets labeled, “Misc.- Essentials and Non”. He went into the foyer and reached for his coat.
“But what about you, or do you already have your ‘coverall’?”
He didn’t bother to answer. Once again he left without saying anything.
The rest of the day and evening, Annie wandered from room to room, checking sizes and making notes. She hated to admit it, but the catalog idea was great. It had everything in every size. Luckily, Mack was out all day. She dreaded explaining his new wardrobe to him. Better to let him be surprised.
Sonny appeared at their door again later that night. He swung the door open wide, calling, “Just put it all in here!” The Winston’s watched as their foyer became transformed into at an Army Surplus store with stacks of trunks and boxes of every description. “Remember, be back here Sunday morning – 8:00 AM sharp,” Sonny directed the two men as he dispensed a tip to each.
“Sonny, what’s all this?” Matthew asked, looking very pleased. “If we take all this, there won’t be any room left for passengers.”
“There’s thirteen trunks and large suitcases -- one for each of you. It should all fit in the rack we built on top of the bus. There’s a tarp here somewhere to cover it all.” He started moving through the piles. “I paid for all this with the money left over from the bus deal. Here’s the rest.” He dug into his pockets and took out some bills and change.
“No, Sonny,” Matthew said, smiling. “You keep it for whatever comes up.”
Sonny nodded and started to leave again, then turned to look directly at Annie. “You be ready at noon tomorrow.” She felt as though she should salute, but he was gone as quickly as he had come.
They stood there silently for a few minutes, surveying the mess. This was it – real, tangible evidence that this wasn’t a dream. It was really going to happen.
Annie reminded the boys as they went out the door for their last day of school not to tell anyone where they were going. “If anyone asks,” she said as they were walking out the door, “just say we’re leaving for a long vacation.”
A few minutes later, Mack came thundering down the stairs, looking as though he was going to explode. Annie gestured toward the dining room. There was going to be another scene.
“What the fuck did you do?” Mack screamed at his father.
“My, my,” Matthew responded, still looking at the morning paper. “We’re a little cranky this morning, aren’t we.”
“Yeah, you could say that. I get that way when I find myself twenty miles from home with no cash and my credit cards don’t work. How could you?”
“How could I what?”
“You know goddamn well what I’m talking about. And what about my car? Where in the hell is my car?”
“You lost your car?”
“Lost it? Hell no! I left it at the curb, and two hours later I come out to find it gone. My God, did you have it towed?”
“You’re forgetting something, son. Legally, that is my car.”
“The hell it is! You and Mother gave it to me for my 21st birthday.”
“True, but if you bothered to check, you would have seen that it’s titled and registered in my name. That nice policeman I talked to was very sympathetic when I reported it stolen.”
“Fuck! You can’t do that.”
“I already have. Your bank account and credit cards are frozen. Your car is gone. Welcome to the real world, Mack.”
“You’re trying to railroad me into this farm thing, aren’t you. Well, fuck that and fuck you. You can’t make me go.”
“Fine. Stay here, but you’ll need a job because I’m not giving you one cent.”
“I can do that – get a job, I mean.”
“How? You’ve never worked in your life. You have no skills, no experience.”
“I could work at your company, right?”
“No, because I wouldn’t hire you, and neither would anyone else.”
“So you think dragging me off to that farm is going to make a difference?”
Matthew put down his paper and folded it thoughtfully. Looking hard at his oldest son, he put his hands together, resting his elbows on the table. “Mack, I am getting real tired of your whining.”
“I’ll go back to school.“
“And do what? What are you going to major in – drinking and whoring?”
Matthew got up and walked around the table. “I realize that in many ways I have failed in my responsibility in teaching you how to be a man. Have you looked in a mirror lately? You’ll never get yourself together living like this.”
“But, Pop, I’m only drinking because--”
“Look. I’ll make you a deal. You stick it out until our first harvest – should be late October or early November. That goes for all of you,” he said, waving his arm to encompass all three of his eldest children. “If you’re still hell-bent to leave, then you can come back here with my blessing. You can go back to school or whatever, and I will continue to support you.”
He squared his shoulders and took a deep, hard breath. “None of you have ever wanted for anything. You’re adults now but you act like spoiled children.” He sighed deeply again. “If you decide you really don’t want to go with us, I guess that’s your right. But if you’re not there when we board that bus, I’ll see to it that you’re cut off without a dime, not even your grandfather’s trust fund. It’s time you learn about the real world, one way or another.”
Matthew turned and walked upstairs. Mack said nothing, drank some coffee, and then left the house again.
_ _ _ _Chapter 7
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