Nan's Journey (6 page)

Everything tasted
great! Of course they had to wait while Fred asked the blessin
g
. Nan knew where the food
came
from
,
and she didn’t see that God
did
much to get it to their table, but if Fred wanted to say a prayer, it was fine with her. She and Elmer cleaned up the dishes after supper and Fred began to read to them from his wife’s Holy Bible. Some of the words were vaguely familiar to Nan, but it had been years since she had heard them from her mother’s lips. She and Elmer had cried when they heard Fred read about Adam and Eve having to leave the Garden of Eden. Nan thought about how awful it would be to leave this beautiful Colorado wilderness. Fred had to explain to them that even though Adam and Eve left the garden, God still loved them and was taking care of them.

Tonight they would be reading about Joseph. He seemed a lot like Elmer to Nan. They hurried so that the reading could begin. Before they started though, this time, Fred had them sit at the table. He gave them a broken piece of flat stone called slate and a crumbly white rock. He showed Elmer how to write his name on the slate. He loved knowing what his name looked like. He tried several times and Fred told him it wouldn’t take many times of practice before he would learn it.

Then the reading began. Fred told them that the Bible
was
written thousands of years ago. Nan just couldn’t believe that something so old could be so interesting.

After the reading came the memory wor
k. Fred was teaching them the twenty third
Psalms
and the
Lord’s
Prayer
;
t
he words were beautiful and powerful. Nan didn’t understand the meaning of some of the words
,
and she knew that Elmer didn’t either
,
but it made her happy to think of herself as a fluffy white lamb and God taking care of her. One day Nan asked Fred, “What does hallowed mean?”

“Holy I think.
”

“Oh” Nan frowned, “What exactly is holy?”

“Without sin.”

“What are trespasses?”

“Sins.”

“Oh. I don’t think I have tres
—
sinned against anyone, but they sure have sinned against me!”

Fred’s eyes looked amused, “Is that right?”

“I don’t want to forgive my stepma for everything she did to us.”

Fred looked concerned. “Well, Nan, the
want to
has to come from God. Remember
,
Joseph forgave his brothers for selling him to the slave traders in our last Bible reading. God had to help him do that.”

“I never cared for my stepmother and I never want to see her again
,
and I enjoy hating her!”

“Nan, hate is a disease that will destroy you. When you forgive those who sin against you, God will help you
from
fall
ing
into temptation and deliver you from evil. It is God’s power that does this.”

“I’m not ready to let go of the hate!” Nan was crying hard and clenching her fists. “I guess God can’t love me if I want to hate people!”

“That’s not true, Nan. The Bible says
,
‘Yea, I have loved you with an everlasting love that while you were yet sinners, Christ died for you.
’
”

“I will have to think on that a while. I don’t know what I want to do. Maybe I better not say The Lord’s Prayer until I figure it all out. I am not a liar.” With that said, she went to the trundle bed and lay beside Elmer who was sleeping peacefully.

Fred watched her as he pretended to read. Nan was usually so sweet and gentle. He had rarely seen this hate filled side of her. Her anger had been strong, real and justified, but it was not good for her.

He knew what she was going through because he had been angry with God about Claire and Joy’s deaths.  There were still times when he wanted to scream out his “whys?” to God. These children had unknowingly shown him that life must go on even when terrible things have happened.

He would never be able to explain to them how a loving God could let their Mama and Papa die
leaving
them with the cruel caretakers
,
or why the girl he loved since childhood and the
ir
playful little dau
ghter, Joy,
had been snatched away by the stealthy blow of influenza.
Were there answers? Had he forgiven and was he forgiven? Had he forgiven his previous “flock” for their unjust behavior?
He spent the better part of the night in prayer
,
and when he laid on the featherbed that night his soul was at peace with the Holy Father in heaven.

Chapter 9

Mary knew the man who was knocking loudly on her door. He was a nosey sort that seemed to always poke around their place to “check on the younguns.”

“I’m comin’
,
Jeb. Can I help ya?”

“Your old Molasses was wandering by the train tracks this morning and I wondered if them kids had let her out or what? The gate was closed.”

“They probably went fishing. You know kids, Jeb, they like to play all they can.”

Jeb looked past her into the room. “Well he’s in the pasture now. Tell Nan and Elmer howdy for me. Say, when is Sam comin’ home?”

“Directly. I don’t want to keep you from your work. Bye now.” Mary shut the door a little too firmly to be neighborly, but Jeb was just snooping.
I ain’t lettin’ nobody know ‘bout them kids. I’ll have to come up with something if Je
b comes back though. Let’s see…
They can’t be fishin’ forever! Do they have any kin somewhere, anywhere?  I jist as well make up some kinfolk that they might go to visit.  It would be fittin for them to see kin. Think, old gal…They went to an aunt’
s house, yeah a great Aunt… Gracie
in Boston.
I’ll tell Sam that too. Maybe he will be glad to be rid
of them. I’ll tell him Aunt Gracie
gave us the house and land since she is so rich and we won’t divide inheritance with the kids. That will make him happy.

She scurried around the house and removed every trace of the children, putting everything into the trunk. Struggling, she put the trunk into the buckboard, hitched up Molasses and took the trunk to the old train station.

As the stationmaster greeted the sweating,
agitated
, Mary Dewey, he noticed the large trunk on the buckboard. “I need to send th
is trunk to Boston and I need two
tickets to Boston for the children. Uh, they are on the train already and I will take the tickets to them.”

“T
hey will have to change trains three
times. Are you certain you shouldn’t get a ticket and go with them?”
T
he old clerk asked.

Mary thought for a moment,
she
could go and escape everything, but what would she do in Boston? She had a home now and husband, maybe. She had more of a chance with Mr. Dewey than some unknown person that may
never come along. “No, Nan is
fifteen and
she is smart. They will do fine.”

“Address to send the trunk to?”

“None. Their great aunt will arrange that when they get there. She may not even claim it after they get there. She doesn’t want anything from us. She is quite wealthy you know. Uppity if you must know. Afraid we weren’t giving them culture and stuff. Those p
eople just ain't grateful to us…
except they did give us the farm.” Mary could hardly believe that she was telling all these lies to this complete stranger.

Truthfully, she never wanted to see those kids again and she would have to figure out what to do if they ever did come back. She would figure that out when and if it happened. She took the tickets and headed for the passenger car, walked in and through a couple of cars, then got on the platform and waved to her
nonexistent
charges. She was very proud of her creativity in this expensive lie.
It was expensive, but worth it.

The scorching day was bearing hard on Mary’s back as she drove the old mare into the farmyard. The place was still neat and orderly, but there was something strangely quiet about it. She had Molasses take the buckboard to the lean-to shed next to the barn
,
and then she unharnessed the gentle workhorse and led her out to the pasture.

She gave a sigh as she watched the animal nibble the grass. Life was lonely. That was a hard fact that Mary just had to live with. The children had always spoken in soft tones to one another when they were settling down for the night. It had been a pleasant sound even if it did smite her in her heart that she never would be that close to anyone.

One day
,
if she had a child of her own, she would speak softly. The child would want to wrap chubby little arms around her and call her Mama. The glow of love would shine in baby eyes.

Never would she lay a hand on a child again.
I swear it! I don’t know what got into me. I am not a monster without feelings. I can be good. I will myself to change. I am starting today!

Now that Nan and Elmer were gone, she had a new start. No one would remember the harsh treatment and words. She could do it.
Turning over a new leaf, right. Other people could do it, why not me. I am going to be so good that people will talk about me. I will make friends. I don’t like being alone on this vast prairie. I must have someone to talk to.

Now that she made that commitment to herself, how would she go about carrying it out? Where do I start? It used to be that acquaintances were made while going to school.
I am too old for school. I will go into town tomorrow and get some things in the general store. I will speak to the lady at the counter. I better start slow, I don’t want people to notice too much of a change in me. I will ask her a question about herself. It shouldn’t be too personal. What do other people talk about? Weather. Let me see. “Mrs. Waide, it is mighty hot weather we have been having lately.” I should say something about Nan and

Elmer. Let me see… “I am sure that my children, Nan and Elmer, are enjoying their visit with their aunt in Boston.” What will I say if they ask how I could let them stay or live there? Nancy, the children’s
m
other, had an elderly aunt that truly wanted to raise t
he children herself. There are
a lot of other cousins that would add a wonderful influence in their lives.

That’s it. I need to look like I am doing it for the good of the children. I will say that a little bit. “… for the good of the children
.
”

That sounds mighty kind of me. I can tell how lonesome it was for them out on the little farm and how much culture they will get in the big city. I can even say that I miss the big city. I know, I’ll say that I love the shopping and
theatre
and miss it so much. That might make me sound more interesting. It is a sight better than the truth. I need to get my story straight.

She walked slowly to the house and looked at the clothes on the hooks in her room. There wasn’t much, but there was a dress her
m
other helped her make for her wedding. It was no more that a fancier version of her work dresses, but she had been saving it for a special occasion. Well, this was a special occasion. She was making a brand new Mary Dewey. Maybe she would have enough egg money to buy some fabric for a new dress.

At the very least, she did need some more chicken feed. That would mean that she could get feed sacks in a pretty print. The fabric was coarse, but some of it was kind of pretty. She would have to get at least three sacks, probably four to make it look like anything. Mr. Dewey would have a fit if she bought that much at one time, but he wasn’t here now, was he?

She looked into the mirror over the washbasin by the door. Good folk wouldn’t welcome a woman that looked so severe.
“If I’m going to make myself over, then I need to do it right!”
She took down the braids that were wrapped tightly around her head and unwound them. She had good hair. Not wonderful like the mother of the children, but she might try to do something with it. She better not be too different though. If Mr. Dewey showed up, it wouldn’t do for him to notice a change all at once. She thought of the photograph in the trunk that she had sent to Boston. Mary had her hair technically fashioned in the same manner that Nancy wore hers. There was a difference though. Nancy wove the strands a little looser than Mary liked hers to be. It gave a softer look to the
hair. Mary liked hers to be
tight and smooth
so
that none of it w
ould ever dare escape during a
day of hard work. She had to remind herself tha
t she was reinventing herself.
Softer, looser, not so tight…
After a few attempts, she managed to mimic Nancy’s style perfectly.