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Authors: Nancy E. Turner

These Is My Words (11 page)

BOOK: These Is My Words
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More than once, I said. What is it you’re supposed to count?

What? she answered me.

I told her Mrs. Lila Duncan in the wagon train said she counted more of something on her ceiling than stars in the sky. Only I never did hear it clear and I wasn’t supposed to be listening, so I couldn’t ask her to speak right up and repeat it.

Then Savannah laughed again and hugged me. You don’t have to count anything, honey. She was just saying that she keeps her mind occupied away from what is happening. But if you love your husband, you don’t have to keep your mind busy. It’s just a special time. A close time.

What is? said Harland’s voice real nearby. He was on the other bank of the stream where he had crossed on a fallen log.

So I told him, Why, the time you skip a rock at your brother real close and splash him good, and I picked up a flat one and skimmed it just right so his pants got wet around the bottoms. Then he threw a big stone in and splashed us both, so we ran away laughing and he chased us a bit, and then he decided he would fish some more.

February 23, 1882

Harland got up and acted peevish this morning and I don’t know why. He complained about breakfast and wouldn’t eat it, and wouldn’t wash his face and ran off mad. Pretty soon he was back and said he wanted to go fishing, but he wanted a horse to ride, not to walk. Well, he whacked one of my big horses, Dan or Terry he doesn’t know which he says, for trying to bite him and it kicked him in the leg and bit him too, and he came in bawling. He was really upset and I just can’t find out why he is acting so bad, it just isn’t like him to be such a bother to us.

I asked him would he help us plan the house we will build and he said No, I don’t want to live in your stinky old house anyway, and that made me really mad. But just as I was raising my hand to slap him, he hollered out he wasn’t living in any house, because Mama and Albert aren’t coming back they were killed by Indians and eaten by bears.

Well, Savannah burst out crying at that and so did Harland! I was standing in the middle of two crying people and didn’t know which one to comfort first, so I took them both by the hand and marched us all outside and just kept going and going until we were up on a high place above the creek bend.

As we got there I began to say, Here’s where I want to live, you hear? We are going to put a house here and windows out every side and a front porch built up so’s we can sit of an evening and see the road in case Ernest comes home from the Cavalry to visit. I held their hands tight and walked a square off, and said, Here’s Harland’s bed, and here’s mine, and here’s Mama’s, and This is a room here for Albert and Savannah and it must be big for the baby too, then when their house is finished, Mama and I will share the big room and Harland can have his own all to himself if he wants. Here’s the stove and be careful! I jerked Harland’s arm, You are about to get burned it is really hot and almost red! Then I said Smell real hard and smell Christmas gingerbread men in that stove, and smell peach preserve simmering in the summertime. Harland, I said, shoo those flies off that sweet butter cake and smell that ham and corn fritters! Pretty soon we were all laughing and everyone was cheered some.

Then we got serious and started moving some rocks and making markers in the corners of the house, and Harland used a stick on the ground and cut a line for the rooms and the stove and where the table would go, and Savannah and I did the same and lined out a garden plot and where we would put some pole beans and pumpkins and watermelon and kale and carrots.

Harland said Oh, don’t plant nasty old carrots, I hate ’em, but we just laughed. Supper time came and we lit a lantern just as the sun was going down. Suddenly, Bear and Toobuddy jumped up and took off down the road barking loud.

Pretty soon we heard them coming back along with the squeak of wheels, and there was Mama and Albert on the wagon seat, calling out hello!

They have got our patents filed and we have two fine claims, and they have got the wagon loaded with lumber and a keg of nails and some strips of lead flashing for the roof, and Albert bought a new draw splitter for making shingles. It was a good evening and we all talked about our plans until late. It will take a few years of living on the land and then it will be ours.

 

March 14, 1882

We have the beginning of a house put up. We have had a visit from a bear and Albert fired a shot at him but he thinks he missed. Even though there is no roof on top we have pitched our tent on the floor boards and it is good to sleep on something besides rocky ground. At the same time we are trying to build a house, it rained for three days and then cleared and feels like spring.

Albert is spending all day on the house and in the field, and making Harland help him dig holes and plant the trees. Some of them have little buds on them from the warm weather. We put the peaches and apples and pears closest to the house, and lined the pecans in rows down the way. Albert said it is a good thing that it rained as he can see the flow on the land and how the trees will best get watered, and how to make a flood bank at one side to drive the water where he wants it.

We are all going to Tucson tomorrow to buy shingle stock and roofing lumber and get Harland some shoes if we can find the Sing family, and best of all, to buy a stove or order one if the dry goods store has to send east for it. I have been elected to write another letter to Jimmy Reed and Miss Ruthanne MacIntosh and let them know where we are settled on a claim in Arizona Territory, so that if they ever are down our way after they marry to stop in, and I drew a picture map of how to find us. I will mail the letter in Tucson and Savannah has written to her folks again too, and finally Harland has made a letter to Rudy and he drew a zebra he copied from the Animal book on it.

March 18, 1882

We went to the dry goods store to get some stores and a bit of yard goods for some curtains. We got a new pick handle and some rifle shells and two tin buckets. The man there who is Mr. Fish said we would need lots more as there was talk of trouble near us and some bad Indians called Apaches. So I took two extra boxes of rifle shot and made sure we had some that met with our rifle barrels.

He kept asking over my head to Albert did he want something else, and finally Albert said, Just give her the bullets she asks for, and that made me feel proud.

Mama said to me, Sarah, get yourself some of that light blue cotton there for a dress, so I asked the price but he wanted twelve cents a yard and that is too much. Then out of the blue, I asked him did he have anything called scarlet velvet.

He looked at me real strange and said, We surely don’t carry anything in that color.

So I said, Fine, I just wanted to know what color that meant anyhow.

He looked at me even stranger then, and said, Why you’re just a girl, ain’t you? and It’s red, girl, red! Like I was a fool. Well, I felt like a fool but I wasn’t going to let the likes of that man get to me, not after all the things I held up my head for. And I knew I wasn’t no woman in a red dress nor a fool either one, so I looked him in the eye real straight and didn’t blush at all.

Mama was behind me again, and whispered, Sarah, I got some money put back you didn’t know about and you really need a new dress. How you going to catch a husband wearing patched yellow gingham? Get yourself that blue if you want it and wear it to town next time.

I told her I might, but first I asked the man if he had a Godey’s book or a Sears and Roebuck new.

Albert and Harland both is getting tired of this lady stuff, but not Savannah, so the men went to discuss Indians with Mr. Fish, and we opened up the Sears and Roebuck for a look at dresses and corsets and such.

Finally, there is a picture of one styled sort of fine, with rows of little buttons. Much too grand to wear around a pecan orchard. The dress costs twenty-nine dollars and is suggested to be worn with their shaper number 4401. Probably I will never have a dress like that, but I would be proud to wear it. And then I see at the bottom it is made of thirteen yards of lavish velvet in plum color with lavender flounces or dark blue with white flounces. Imagine two colors, and Velvet. Imagine having twenty-nine dollars to spend on a dress, too.

Savannah said Well, all that is just too fancy, and people would stop seeing the real beauty of a person which is their spirit and good and simple ways, it was putting on a show. I ’spect she saw my face because she looked real sorry right away, and said, But it is beautiful, although you do not need to wear a dress like that, people will know you are good by your good and simple ways. I tried to smile, and I closed the book. And I took a deep breath and asked Mr. Fish for seven yards of blue and some thread.

It is the first time Savannah ever made me feel bad. I can’t tell her I don’t want to be good and simple and have simple ways, it would hurt her and she wouldn’t understand feeling this way, she is too good. I want to wear scarlet velvet and slippers and lace gloves and ride in a stage instead of wearing calluses on my hands driving a team like a man. It is not her fault. She is right. The Lord looks on the inside, although people look on the outside.

That man is measuring cloth and Mama said loud, Eight yards, make it eight, sir, please. This is a waste of money, I know, but suddenly I feel as if they are feeling sorry for me somehow, and that I should be thankful for wearing a brown skirt and a patched blouse and being simple. I can’t wait until we are out of this store, and I can hardly look at this material even though it is for me and it is nice, but I feel low.

We have searched the streets and do not see any sign of a cobbler shop at all. Maybe the Sings have moved on somewhere but we asked around and there is no one who will say they know them. We tried one more time all the way to the far west end of Pennington street which is a bad looking area hard against the old walls of the presidio, but all the Chinese we meet either turn away or try to sell us things, they will not listen to us or act like they know what we mean. Harland is disappointed but we will go back to the dry goods and get him some boots from the catalog.

All together it was a long day and we are camped in our wagon and sleeping on the ground just like before. It is strange to camp with a town so close by, but lonely too, as we are used to camping with a crowd of folks and soldiers. I will be glad to head for home tomorrow and wait for word from Ernest.

March 19, 1882

As we were pulling out this morning we passed by the Army fort and there was a little crowd of Indians near there sort of camping as if they lived there and weren’t afraid of the soldiers nor intending to make trouble for them. We came right up against one wall and I could hear a bugle blowing and it sets me to remember all the days of our wagon trip and the soldiers a mustering around the flag every day. It is a kind of lonesome sound, a bugle in the dark before dawn.

Albert stopped the wagon just at the gate which was open, and there were some lines of men saluting in front of one on a horse. The fellow on the horse saluted them back and then caught his eyes this way and squinted at us real hard in the half light and looked sort of familiar. Then Albert chucked the reins and we headed out. The cold hurts my face so I have got my shawl wrapped around up to my nose and I’m curled up out of the wind as much as possible. I wonder if that was that Captain Elliot. All the way home it was too cold to talk, and my mind was busy anyway. I kept thinking about that Duchess of Warwick woman, wearing a red dress and longing for something or someone over the sea. And I thought about her longing for her sweetheart and about how Savannah longed for Albert when he and Mama were gone just a couple of days. Then I thought about kissing a fellow and wondered how it was, and about getting babies, too. Pretty soon I drifted off to sleep.

March 26, 1882

I like the smell of the wooden house in the rain. The hot stove inside and the cold wet outside makes the walls sweat and a little sap is coming down in ribbons. Mama is roasting a fat turkey I shot yesterday, and Savannah put on a pan of cornbread for dressing and she found wild sage just yesterday to season it.

I was laying out our old patterns on the blue cloth for my new dress, but Mama said wait, she wanted to do some thinking. Well, she had some ideas about making a little flounce on it to pretty it up some, and she whispered to me that Savannah likes her clothes plain because she was raised Quaker and we don’t have to be afraid of a little ruffle because it can make you feel good to wear a pretty dress. Then she told me a story about a dress she had when she met Papa and a basket supper he took her to and things I never heard about before. I never before pictured her being a young girl and wanting a pretty dress and sitting with young men at a basket supper.

March 27, 1882

I have never been so cold as last night. I pushed my blankets next to Mama and squeezed Harland up next to us both. I kept thinking I was freezing to death, and even the rocks we took from the stove have gotten cold long before morning. I dreamed again about sleeping with arms around me and this time in the dream I knew it wasn’t just any old arms but Captain Jack Elliot’s. When I woke up I found Harland’s hand had dropped over on my head like the Captain’s was, and I felt stunned. I kept thinking about this for a long time, but did not reach any decision nor feel whether it was good nor bad. Maybe I ate too much turkey and dressing. I’m sure that’s it.

March 28, 1882

We have an unexpected visitor. It is that Captain Elliot from the Army fort. I thought maybe he came to bring me my book but he says no, and even though I said I’d trade him Dan or Terry back he says no two more times and he didn’t bring it with him anyway so it will have to wait. That made me mad.

He sat awhile with Albert at dinner, talking about the trees we have planted and just seemed mighty interested in pecan farming, as if it was the one thing in the world he wanted to know more about. Mama kept saying, Sarah, fetch him some coffee, fetch him some water, how about some buttermilk? to me, as if all I had to do in an afternoon was be handy for some thirsty Army captain. Then she whispers to me, Sarah, comb your hair, there is a switch falling out around your face. So I went to do that and sat on the bed and read a book instead.

BOOK: These Is My Words
7.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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