Someplace to Call Home

by Sandra Dallas

  “I can’t.”

  “Why’s that?” The sheriff sat down on a log near the car and took out a pouch of tobacco. He removed a cigarette paper and spread tobacco on it, then he rolled it together and licked the seam. “You can’t tell me even to help out your brother?” He took out a match and struck it on the side of the car, then lit the cigarette.

  “We’d be shamed.”

  “Shame worse than having me think your brother stole the car?” The sheriff spotted another used cigarette on the ground and reached for it. He put it into his pocket. That makes six or eight cigarettes, Hallie thought.

  She considered the sheriff’s words. “If I tell you, can it be a secret? Will you promise you won’t tell?”

  “Cross my heart.”

  Hallie looked at the ground. “I think it was the shoes.”

  “How’s that?”

  “The shoes. My shoes are so bad that I have to put cardboard in them all the time. And they pinch my feet. I go barefoot most of the time.” She glanced down at her feet. “I need new shoes, but we don’t have the money. Tom feels bad about that. He says he’s let me down.” She quickly went on. “It’s not his fault. We just don’t have the money.”

  The sheriff waited.

  “You see, there was a pair of women’s shoes in the Mortons’ trash. I saw them when we were in town. Tom did, too. When he went out after dark that night, I wondered if he was going to get them. But I think somebody else got there first and took the shoes, because Tom didn’t bring them home.”

  “What’s so bad about that that you couldn’t tell me?”

  “Like I said, if anybody knew, we’d be shamed. Tom feels awful bad he lost that job at the garage and that things are so poorly for us. He thinks it’s his fault he can’t bring in any money. If folks knew he had to go through their trash looking for shoes, well, he wouldn’t be able to hold up his head. He’s proud, Tom is.” Hallie stared at the ground while she talked. When she looked up, her face was red. “You won’t tell, will you? You promised. Tom would be awful mad.”

  “Sounds sensible to me. I gave you my word, sis. You sure that’s where he was at?”

  Hallie nodded. “After he got home that night, he picked up my shoes and said he sure did wish we had the money for new ones.”

  The sheriff ground out his cigarette and stood. He picked up Tom’s jacket. “I’ll drop you off at home.”

  “Are you going to talk to Tom?”

  “I don’t need to. You already answered my question.”

  Later that day, Mr. Ulman came down the road in his truck, driving past the cabin. When he came back, he had the Terraplane chained to the back of his truck. Tom and Hallie stood in the yard and watched the truck go by, hauling the car toward town. “I wonder what happened,” Tom said.

  Hallie didn’t reply. The two were discouraged and paid little attention to Benny as he chattered through supper. Hallie was sorry then that she’d told the sheriff about the car. Maybe it would have rotted away and people eventually would have forgotten about it.

  Just as they were finishing their pancakes, Sheriff Eagles’s car pulled into the yard. The man sat in the vehicle until Tom and Hallie went outside. “I’d like to speak to you folks,” the sheriff said.

  “You come to arrest me?” Tom asked.

  “Like I said, I come to talk.”

  “We saw Mr. Ulman take the Terraplane down the road. We know it was found,” Tom said.

  “Didn’t Hallie tell you? She’s the one who found it.”

  Tom looked surprised, but Hallie looked away, not saying anything. She hadn’t told Tom.

  “You might as well come inside,” Tom told him.

  “We got enough for another hotcake if you want one,” Hallie said. She could add a little more water to the batter to stretch it.

  The sheriff held up his hand. “I expect my missus is waiting dinner. I got to get on home. But I wanted to stop here first.”

  Tom and Hallie waited.

  “You don’t have a cigarette, do you?”

  Tom shook his head. “I don’t smoke them, even hand rolled.”

  “That’s what I thought. You see there was cigarette butts all around that car. Sis here spotted the first one. There’s not many folks around here that smoke ready-mades. And these were some fancy brand. Only person I know who smokes them is Mr. Morton. And I guess young Harold does, too. It seemed right strange to me that there was so many around there, like somebody sat there a long time thinking about what he’d say about that car.”

  “You mean—?” Tom started to ask, but the sheriff raised his hand again.

  “Now, Harold Morton’s a hard one, and his father thinks the sun rises and sets on that boy. So I got to thinking about that friend of his—Dan. He isn’t a bad sort when he’s not around Harold. I went to his place and talked to him. I said we’d found all those cigarettes out there, and there were plenty of fingerprints on the steering wheel. I didn’t tell him the county wouldn’t pay to have them checked out. I just sort of let him think I done that already. Then I asked if he had anything to tell me.”

  “Did he?” Hallie asked.

  “Did he!” the sheriff answered. “Why, he confessed faster than a fox in a henhouse. He said Harold ran that car into a tree and knew his father would just about kill him for it. So they cooked up that story about the car being stole. Harold had taken Tom’s jacket last fall. They left it under the seat so if anybody found the car, they’d think Tom here had stole it. Then they ran it off the road near your place so when it was found, folks would think you hid it nearby. Darndest thing. If Hallie hadn’t spotted that cigarette, I never would have proved those boys did it.”

  “Did Harold confess?” Tom asked.

  “Well, not at first. But when I told him Dan admitted what they did and said we had him dead to rights with the fingerprints and the cigarettes, he finally came around. Said they did it as a joke.”

  “A joke?” Tom said.

  “Mr. Morton didn’t think it was no joke neither. He said he was sending back Harold’s new car. He told Harold he could walk from then on—walk all the way to Topeka, for all he cared.”

  “Did you arrest them?” Hallie asked. “Will they go to jail?” She smiled at the idea of Harold and Dan sitting in the cell where the tramp had been.

  The sheriff put his foot on the running board of his car and shook his head. “I wish I could lock them up. Seems there’s no law against running your car into a tree. Or stealing your own car neither. I guess it’s up to Mr. Morton to punish Harold.”

  “What about Tom?” Hallie asked.

  “I never did think he stole it. But I didn’t have no idea who did.”

  “I mean, Tom’s reputation’s ruined. Don’t those boys have to pay for that?”

  The sheriff shook his head. “Not that I know of. But it will get around. Folks will know Tom’s all right.”

  “Won’t Dan and Harold even have to apologize to him?” Hallie asked.

  “You’d think they would, but don’t hold your breath.”

  We’re not thieves anymore, Hallie thought. But they still think we’re squatters.

  The sheriff tipped his hat to her and started to get into his car. Then he turned around. “Wouldn’t surprise me none, Tom, if Ulman offered you your job back. I can’t think as how old Morton would object.”

  chapter fourteen

  Benny

  Maybe Tom had been right. Maybe we should go on to California, Hallie thought. People are never going to accept us. Of course, there were good things about Kansas. She loved the little cabin, and the Carlsons had been wonderful. Mrs. Powell and Sheriff Eagles had stood up for them. Mr. Ulman had asked Tom to go back to work at the garage and had even given him a five-cent raise. Mr. Carlson had started spring plowing, and Tom had all the work there that he wanted. On his first payday Tom had bought Hallie new shoes.

  Still, Harold and Dan did not apologize. Nor did Mr. Morton. Things had returned to normal at the school, althou
gh nobody told Hallie they were sorry they’d thought her brother was a thief. At recess, when the students chose sides for baseball, Hallie was once again the first girl picked. She hit a home run, but Cathy was the only one who congratulated her. Mildred returned to her old seat next to Hallie, but now Hallie covered up her answers to test questions.

  The spring was beautiful in Kansas. Despite the lack of rain, wildflowers sprang up, and Benny picked bouquets of them every time he walked to the Carlson house. The days were sunny and not too hot. Green things popped up in the fields, and there was the scent of freshly turned earth. Eggs hatched. At the Carlson farm, Tessie and Benny played with tiny yellow puffballs of baby chicks, and Mrs. Carlson promised to give Hallie some of them when they were a little older. Mr. Carlson hauled an old chicken coop to the cabin, and Hallie cleaned and repaired it. She knew the chickens were the Carlsons’ way of telling the Turners that they were welcome to stay on, at least for a little while. She appreciated that, but still, she wondered if anybody else wanted them there. “Will we always be thought of as squatters?” she asked Tom.

  “We’re doing all right,” he replied. After the sheriff discovered Harold had hid his own car and lied, Tom hadn’t said much more about California.

  Because it was spring, Hallie decided it was a good time to clean the cabin. She scrubbed the walls and the fireplace. She cleaned and blackened the cook stove until it looked almost new. Then she gathered up the quilts to be laundered. She hauled water from the creek, heated it on the cook stove, and poured it into the big tin tub that she had found hanging on the outside wall of the cabin. The old quilts went into the tub first. She scrubbed them with soap, changing the water twice because they were so dirty.

  “I’ll help!” Benny had cried as Hallie lifted the first soaked quilt from the rinse water. He picked up one end and Hallie the other.

  “We have to twist it to get out the water,” Hallie said. Benny laughed as the water drained out of the quilt onto his feet. He helped his sister spread the quilt over the bushes to dry.

  Then Hallie took down Mommy’s Irish Chain quilt that had been hanging on the wall. It was dirty, too, from smoke that escaped from the stove.

  Hallie washed it carefully, making a note of rips or where the tiny squares had pulled loose. She would need to repair the quilt after it dried. She remembered when Mommy had made it. Hallie hadn’t known how to quilt then. She had helped her mother by going through the ragbag, searching for pieces of blue material. Mommy had traded scraps with her friends to get additional blue.

  “Someday I’ll pass this on to you,” Mommy had said. And so she had, although Hallie wished Mommy were still there to enjoy it. As she looked at the quilt, she missed Mommy and Barbara and even Daddy. She wondered if they’d ever have a home like the one in Oklahoma again, a home where women sat and sewed, where neighbors dropped in and helped each other out. Maybe there was such a place in California.

  She looked around for Benny to help her wring out the Irish Chain quilt. He had been playing in the yard with his blocks, reciting the letters. Then she had heard him call, “Hi, Bob.” She hadn’t seen him in a while.

  “Benny, come help,” Hallie called. When he didn’t answer, she wrung out the quilt herself and hung it over a tree branch to dry. She thought Benny would like to play under the dripping quilt and yelled, “Come on! It’s raining under the quilt.” She picked up the laundry tub and poured the rinse water over flowers that she had planted beside the cabin.

  Benny didn’t answer. He probably wandered away after Bob, Hallie thought. He’d done that before. The rabbits were fast, however, so Benny followed them for only a few steps. Hallie called again and went into the woods near the cabin. “Benny!” she yelled. Sometimes the little boy hid, and she wondered if he was hiding now. When there was no answer, Hallie grew concerned. “Benny, come for dinner,” she called. Benny was always ready to eat. He didn’t reply. Hallie went farther into the woods, but there was no sign of her little brother. She called until she was hoarse. Benny didn’t answer. She came back to the creek and followed it. Benny loved water. The creek was shallow. Still, Benny could have fallen and hit his head. Hallie followed the water for a little way. Benny couldn’t have gone that far, she thought and retraced her steps.

  A rabbit darted in front of her and made her think of Bob. “Bob’s here, Benny!” she yelled as loud as she could. He’d come running if he thought Bob was around. Hallie heard a rustling in the brush, but it was only a squirrel. There were no footsteps, no sign of her brother.

  Hallie returned to the cabin. Maybe Benny had crawled under the bed. He liked to hide. Perhaps he had hidden and then fallen asleep. She hadn’t looked inside. She should have searched there first. Maybe she had worried for nothing. “I’m coming to get you, Benny,” Hallie called. She would tickle him, and he’d laugh. She rushed into the cabin and peered under the bed. Benny wasn’t there. He wasn’t hiding under the table or behind the stove, either.

  She went back into the woods and searched once more. Benny probably had fallen asleep and hadn’t heard her. She walked along the path to the creek again, looking under bushes to see if her brother was there. When she reached the stream, she walked slowly along the creek bed. Maybe she hadn’t gone far enough the first time. Benny knew he wasn’t to go into the water. Still, he loved water, and sometimes he forgot. She saw a lump beside the stream. “Benny,” she called and rushed forward, but it was only a gray rock.

  Hallie searched for prints beside the creek. Then she spotted a barefoot print. Had Benny been wearing his shoes? Hallie couldn’t remember. The footprint was the same size as her own. Hallie was barefoot, and she wasn’t sure which one of them had left the print. She knelt down hoping to see other footprints, and found one more.

  “Benny!” Hallie screamed, but there was no answer. She stepped into the water and followed the stream, stopping in shallow spots to search for more footprints. If Benny had fallen into the stream, he would still be there, Hallie told herself. The water was not swift enough to carry him away. She looked for broken branches and places where he might have stopped. But there was no sign that Benny had been there.

  She sat down on a log to think where he might have gone. It couldn’t have been too far. His legs were short, and he couldn’t run very fast. Perhaps he hadn’t gone into the woods at all but had headed for the meadow instead. Hallie retraced her steps and ran back to the cabin. She looked again for Benny, hoping he had returned. But there was no sign of him.

  Hallie started through the meadow, stopping at a rock outcropping. They had once taken a picnic to the spot. Benny was frightened of it, however, because they had heard a rattlesnake. Benny was afraid of snakes and refused to go back to the rocks even after the snake had disappeared. He didn’t like playing in the meadow, either. It was unlikely he would have gone there. Still, Hallie searched for the boy, calling his name, although her voice was almost gone. She spotted a clump of wildflowers. Benny loved to pick flowers to give to her or to Tessie or to Mrs. Carlson. He would hold the bouquet behind his back, then thrust it out and cry, “Surprise!” Of course the flowers were not a surprise, except to Tessie, but Hallie and Mrs. Carlson always pretended they were.

  The grasses around the wildflowers had not been trampled. Hallie searched the meadow, but she had little hope that Benny would be there.

  Sick with fear that something bad had happened to her brother, Hallie went back to the cabin. Tom would be home soon. He would know where to look. Hallie sat down in the doorway and put her head in her hands. Poor Benny. If he was lost, he would be frightened. What if he was calling for her, and she couldn’t hear him? He might be a long way away.

  She loved that little boy. All she had in the world were Benny and Tom. Mommy, Daddy, and Barbara, they all were gone. Hallie remembered when Mommy died. She had tried to explain the death to Benny. “Mommy’s with Barbara in heaven,” she had said.

  “Where’s heaven?” Benny had asked.

  Hallie pointed to
the sky.

  Benny looked up and waved. “Hi, Mommy.”

  “She won’t be back,” Hallie explained.

  Benny had frowned at that and thought for a while. Hallie wondered if he understood. Then Benny had smiled and said, “You’re Mommy, Hallie.”

  And so she had been. She had been as much a mother to Benny as if he really had been her child. And she loved him just as fiercely.

  Once a girl in Oklahoma had said, “It’s too bad Barbara died instead of Benny.”

  “Why would you say that?” Hallie had demanded, shocked.

  “Well, you know, he’s not very smart.”

  “Do you think that matters? He’s a person just like you. We love him the way he is. Maybe we love him more because he needs us.”

  She remembered the tree Benny had chosen at Christmas. It was funny-looking, crooked, and bare on one side, but Benny had loved it. Perhaps that was because it was different, just as he was. Benny doesn’t just need us, Hallie thought. We need him.

  As she recalled that tree, Hallie put her head down on her knees and began to sob. Benny needed her now more than ever. He’s lost, and I’m not there to help him.

  She cried harder and didn’t stop until she felt a hand on her shoulder. “Benny?” she said, looking up quickly.

  “It’s me, Tom. What’s the matter? Are you hurt?”

  “Oh, Tom, Benny’s gone! He was here when I was washing the quilts. He was helping me at first. I was so busy, and when I looked around for him he wasn’t here.”

  “Have you searched for him?”

  “I’ve looked all afternoon. I went through the woods and along the stream, and I even went to the meadow. I got back just a few minutes ago.”

  “What about the road?”

  “You know he’s afraid of the road. We’ve told him so many times how dangerous it is. He’d never go there by himself for fear of a car running him down.”

  “I’ll look for him. You stay here in case he comes back.”

  Hallie nodded. She listened as Tom went into the woods, calling, “Benny! Where are you, Ben? Hallie has supper ready!” She listened until she could not hear Tom’s voice any longer. She went inside and lit a fire in the cook stove. She mixed up batter for pancakes. Then she took down a jar of blackberries that Mrs. Carlson had given her.