My Children Are More Precious Than Gold (11 page)

“
Reckon it could be
Tutt's. What do ya want us to do, Mama?” Asked Don.

“
Ya have to take the
turkey back to Tutt. I know that waggen tongue of his. I don't want
him tellen the neighbors that the Bishop boys stole his turkey.
Which ya all did!” Nannie rolled her eyes upward as if seeking
heavenly guidance.

“
But if we move that poor
turkey now she won't set again and none of the eggs will hatch.
Besides she was in a bad place. Ya heard Tutt. A coyote would have
got her fer sure. Couldn't we jest wait til she hatches since she's
so close?” Pleaded Lue.

“
Yer probably right,”
Nannie admitted reluctantly. “All righty, leave her be till she
hatches then take the whole family back.”

“
Thank ye, Mama,” said
Lue, winking at Don.

A week later loud peeping sounds came
from the wooden box coop, when Lue and Don walked past it. The boys
rushed to the cabin to get Nannie. She hurried to the coop. She
peeked in to find a mass of tiny, fuzzy, brown and tan striped
heads with bodies burrowed under the turkey's featherless wings,
trying to hide from the light that flooded through the open
door.

Soon the turkey and her ten growing
poults needed a larger place so the boys moved them to a coop that
had a screened runway. The frightened brood ran back and forth,
exploring the strange coop, getting a glimpse of the world around
them while their frustrated mother fretted over them. The turkey
desperately tried to watch all ten babies at the same time, running
from one end of the runway to the other with each loud cheep one of
her poults made.

The Bishop children gathered around
the coop to watch the baby turkeys first look at the world. The
naked turkey, clucking nervously to her lively offspring scattering
in every direction had the children in laughing fits.

“
Boys, the turkey and her
hatch have to go back to Tutt's now,” ordered Nannie.

“
Oh, Mama, could we keep a
couple of the turkeys? After all, Tutt doesn't know how many of em
there was, and he wouldn't of had any ifen we hadn't saved em and
took good care of em. Besides they’d taste plenty good at
Thanksgiving,” implored Lue.

“
They ain't ours to keep.”
Looking wistfully at the baby turkeys, Nannie was torn by the need
to feed her family and by what she thought was the right thing to
do. Finally she mumbled to herself, “But Tutt would have nothen
ifen we hadn't took care of em turkeys for him. A couple of them
sure would taste good for Thanksgiving dinner to feed my younguns.”
The thought ran through her head,
Besides
fer what that no good man over charges Jacob fer his corn liquor,
he owes this family some, I reckon.
Outloud, she said, “All righty, take all but two of em back.
Then remember don't ever take anythen that ain’t yers again. Ya all
hear me?”

“
Yep, Mama. We hear, don't
we Don? We'll take em back up behind Tutt's place right now and
turn em loose. They will join the rest of his turkey flock, and
Tutt will never be the wiser,” Lue planned out loud with a wink at
Don.

A few weeks later, Tutt rode up to the
Bishop's hitch rack, trailed by one of his skinny black and tan
coonhounds. He dismounted as Jacob rose from the edge of the porch
to greet him. “Hey, Tutt. Come up here and join me on the porch.
This here shade is as cool a place as we can find these days and
that ain’t sayen much.”

“
Hey, Jake. What ya know
fer sure, cept how hot it is, huh?” Tutt spit an amber stream off
to the side of him, spraying most of Nannie's orange tiger lily
flower bed as he stepped onto the porch.

“
It’s mighty hot. That's
fer sure,"”Jacob nodded in agreement. “Ya know any
news?”

Tutt sat down slowly beside Jacob. He
dangled his short legs off the side of the porch, brushing with his
scuffed boots the Virginia Blue Bells Nannie had carried down from
the ridge and planted behind the tiger lilies.

He rubbed the whisker stubble on his
chin and said, “Not much I know about. Jest thought I'd stop by.
Sure need rain bad, huh?” Tutt leaned over to spit again and
sprayed a black cat just as it streaked under his feet chased by
Tutt’s dog The cat didn’t stop until it scrambled up on a high limb
in the mulberry tree. The coonhound, baying as if he had a coon
treed, jumped up and bounced off the tree.

“
Here now! Clemalick,
stopped that. That ain’t no coon ya got treed. That’s a dern cat.”
Tutt jumped off the porch, waded through the already laid low
flowers and kicked at the excited dog. Dodging Tutt’s foot, the dog
ran through the open gate and took off toward the barn, yipping all
the way as though he was in pain.

Tutt joined Jacob on the porch. “Say,
Jake, ya heard about what happened over at Genon Mitt's ta other
day?”

“
Nope, Tutt. Haven't seen
Genon fer a spell.”

“
I was hoofen it cross her
pasture and heard some yellen fer hep. I looked around fer the
ruckus and spotted Genon up a tree. That scrawny black bull of hers
was snorten and pawen the dirt right under her. He had that ole gal
treed.”

“
By golly, that scrawny
runt is no bigger than one of Genon's cows. He went
mean?”

“
Yep! He turned ornery all
right. Funniest sight I ever seed was ole Genon hangen onto that
limb she was a straddled of, looken bug eyed, and holleren at him
at the top of her lungs to scat away so she could get
down.”

“
What did ya
do?”

“
I started to laugh.
Couldn't hep myself. Then Genon heard me. She threatened to put a
curse on me ifen I didn't hep her. Dang if Genon don't scare me
more than a mean bull.”

“
Me too so what did ya
do?”

“
I seed Genon's six cows
watchen the ruckus from aways off so I got behind em and hollered.
Got em stampeded at that ole bull. When they got to the bull, Genon
started yellen worse that any banshee could. That ole ornery bull
took off with the cows. As soon as the cattle disappeared over the
hill, Genon slide down from that tree -- hee, hee. She was right
stove up from sitten so long soens she could hardly stand, and out
of sorts. She was in no mood to talk. She pointed her crooked
finger at me and warned me she best not hear tell of me sayen
anythin about her and her bull to anyone. Then she trekked off
toward her cabin, walken kind of stiff legged. Reckon she'd been up
that tree a good long spell, I do,” snickered Tutt.

Jacob pictured Genon stuck up a tree
and grinned, but he cautioned, “Best not be talken about this then,
Tutt if she warned ya not to. Genon kin be a mean one to reckon
with when she's riled.”

All the time Tutt was telling his
story, he’d watched two young turkey toms, darting back and forth
across the yard after grasshoppers. “Member that turkey hen I was
tellen ya about the other day that I thought the coyotes
got?”

“
Yep, reckon I do,” Jacob
replied, studying his hands to avoid looking Tutt in the eyes when
he asked, “Why?”

“
Funniest thing happened.
She showed up with a batch of poults about the size of yers. I
don't know how she got away from that coyote with her younguns, but
she must have put up some kind of a fierce fight from the look of
her. She's plumb bald.”

“
Is that a fact?” Jacob
fend interest as he turned his face away to hide the grin that was
spreading from ear to ear. Then he figured it was time to change
the subject so he turned to his neighbor and asked, “Tutt, ya have
time to hep us make hay next week?”

Chapter 8

Hay Making

Close enough, Jake," Tutt yelled from
atop the stack of loose hay on the sled wagon as he directed Jacob
along side the barn.

“
Whoa,” Jacob hollered,
pulling back on the work horse's reins. “Whoa, Buck!”

Above the four tong hay fork that
dangled directly over the wagon, Tom, Lue and Don watched from the
hay mow door. They were ready to start forking the hay and move it
away from the opening when the tongs came up in the loft and
released a load.

Sid helped Jacob unhitch the roan and
hitch him to the pulley. The wheel made a loud creaking noise when
the pulley began to turn, threading the rope across the mow,
lifting the fork full of hay slowly up and through the barn door.
Then the tongs released the hay and the empty fork traveled back
down to the wagon to reload.

Standing in the unrelenting sun, Jacob
ducked his head to wipe the sweat beads on his brow with the sleeve
of his shirt and squinted to watched the fork once again rise up
into the loft.

“
We're about half done. I
could use a rest,” wheezed Tutt.

“
By golly, I could, too.
Let's sit down a minute.” Jacob came around the pile and plopped
down beside Tutt on the edge of the wagon. Lifting his shirt tail,
Tutt wiped his sweaty, dirt streaked face.

“
Jake, why's it always so
blazen hot when we's maken hay?” Whined Tutt.

“
Don't work too good maken
hay in the winter, Tutt,” Jacob wisecracked, grinning at the wizen
fellow beside him. “Here comes the fork back. Best get moven so we
can get this job done today.” Jacob stood up and stretched, wincing
as pain seared through his stiff muscles.

Jacob watched the fork inch its way
down. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the bleared image of
a medium size, dark blue snake darting over the top of the hay pile
toward Tutt. “Look out, Tutt! A blue racer is comen yer
way!”

“
I see it! I'll fix that
varmint.” Tutt raised his pitch fork handle above his head ready to
clobber the snake.

“
Be careful, Tutt. Nothen
meaner that a riled up blue racer.”

“
I kin handle a little ole
snake,” bragged Tutt. Raising his pitch fork high above his head,
he made a downward swing. He struck the snake in the middle,
causing it to sink into the loose hay.

Angered by the blow, the reptile
lunged at Tutt as Jacob yelled from the top of the stack where he
sat watching, “Look out, Tutt! What did I tell ya? He's still comen
at ya, and he's mad as a wasper now.”

Hearing raised voices, Sid stopped the
horse to turn and look at the wagon. Tom, Lue, and Don peeked out
of the hay mow door in time to see Tutt pounding the wagon with his
pitch fork while the blue racer writhed one way than the other The
snake, dodging the blows, lunged at Tutt's right shoe.

“
Jake, hep me get him
offen my shoe,” squealed Tutt, kicking his foot wildly in the
air.

Jacob made his way down the hay pile
just in time to see the snake disappear up Tutt's pant leg.
Quickly, he scrambled back up the stack out of the way. Dropping
the fork, Tutt grabbed his leg with both hands, hopping up and down
while he screamed curses at the snake on its way up his leg. He
still held the hopeless belief that he could shake the snake loose
or scare him out of his pant leg.

“
Tutt, slow down. Get out
of em pants,” Jacob cried, stifling a chuckle at Tutt's
gyrations.

Tutt unzipped his pants one handed,
letting them drop passed his hips. All the while, he had a good
grip on the snake to keep it contained in the pant leg until he had
both legs out. Tutt slammed his pants down on the wagon. Mad at the
snake for showing him up, the skinny little man grabbed his fork
and pounded his pants. The boys weren't sure which was vibrating
the wagon more; Tutt pounding his pants, or Jacob doubled over in a
fit of laughter.

Just then Nannie came around the barn.
She froze. Her mouth dropped open, not knowing what to make of the
scene before her. Tutt was only wearing a pair of dirty, red, one
piece long johns. He was unaware his audience had changed to
include a female. He continued to beat his pants, speaking some
very unladylike words while Jacob and the boys laughed
uncontrollably.

“
Mercy sakes! Ya all been
touched by the heat,” declared Nannie.

At the sound of a woman's voice, they
all looked in her direction. Tutt dropped his pitch fork, grabbed
his dust covered pants from the wagon bed and had the forethought
to shake them vigorously to lose the dead blue racer before he
jumped off the wagon and hid behind the barn.

Looking from the snake to Jacob and
the boys still in a fit of laugher, Nannie shook her head in
disgust. “Such foolishness! Ain't it hot enough worken in the hay
without foolen around?”

“
Nannie, ya missed the
best part. Didn't she, boys?” Jacob heehawed.

“
I don't want to hear
about it,” declared Nannie, sternly. “I brought ya all a cool drink
cause I thought ya might be hot from worken so hard. I'll set this
pitcher of spring water and the cups on the wagon, and I get back
to my work. I don’t have time fer foolishness.”

After she walked around the barn, she
heard Jacob's teasing voice call, “Tutt, ya can come out now. The
misses is gone.”

Nannie couldn't keep from smiling at
the thought that Jacob and the boys played a joke on Tutt by
putting a snake in his pants. The sight of Tutt trying to get the
snake by beating his pants and him running off to hide behind the
barn in those filthy long johns might be good for a laugh or two at
the next quilting bee.