“Yes, I’ll do that.”
“You have a good evening, son.”
“Thanks, Teach.” He waved with a big smile as he walked through the open doors.
She watched him walk away, her mind whirling. There was so much she wanted to do for Matthew. She walked to the doors and stood in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest, watching little children being led by the hands by older children, siblings and parents. A few of the older children mounted horses and rode away, yelling loudly at each other and racing as they ran across the bridge that led from the schoolhouse.
Her students. Her children. Someday she would have her own and maybe be teaching them at the schoolhouse along with the others. Right now, she had no man and no prospects of marriage or courtship.
And that was just fine with her. She loved her job and had a lot of plans for her future. So far, they didn’t include finding a husband and having a family. That would come along eventually. But at that moment in time she was a satisfied, independent twenty-year-old woman. She could take care of herself.
And that’s exactly what she planned to do.
Chapter 7
The next day, she was in the schoolhouse when the children filed in and sat in the desks in front of hers. She was leaning against the desk, watching them come in, her arms holding a stack of last week’s newspapers against her chest.
She was proud of her work with the older children. She wanted them to read the stories and articles to her. It helped them not only get a better grasp of reading the English language, but also to keep up with what was happening in the world.
She’d scanned through the paper and was still disappointed by the variety of articles, of which there was very little. There were farm reports, which were good for the children of farmers. There were some articles on the president Benjamin Harrison, the government, both local and federal, and how the things the government was doing affected the residents of Glenwood.
She didn’t see anything, though, about women. There were no articles about the suffragist movement, which was just getting started. Mary knew for a fact there were women marching in the streets in the bigger cities, asking for their right to vote for the president, have jobs similar to the men, and to be paid what they deserved for the work they did. Men were very resistant and stubborn. With the help of some gentle maneuvering, Mary was sure they would understand the women’s plight.
The children filed in and sat at their desks, chatting with each other. She had nearly thirty students, which was the largest class she had. She was pleased to see Matthew come in.
He came directly to her desk and leaned down to say in a low voice, “Ma and Pa are expecting you Saturday at ten. They were very surprised you wanted to talk to them.”
Mary raised her eyebrows. “Why are they surprised?”
“Because they didn’t even know I was still coming to school. Sometimes after school, I’ll go and make a few dollars at the mill or at a farm or ranch for a little money. They don’t even ask.”
“So, when you’ve been coming to school, it’s because you want to?”
Matthew laughed; a pleasant sound that rang through the room. Some of the other students looked at Matthew with smiles on their little faces. It brought a smile to Mary’s face, too. “Why are you so surprised? I told you I wanted to be at school. They didn’t want me there and since I understand how we need money and I want to help my family, too, I’m willing to come to school and go work afterward. They never ask when I get home very late at night if I have money to help out the family.”
Mary took hold of his forearm and squeezed. Matthew smiled back and walked to his seat.
Mary couldn’t have been more pleased.
She waited until the students settled down before getting their attention. “All right, children, we’re going to do our regular paper reading today. We’ve done this before so you know the rules of the game. I’m going to hand out these papers. Whatever article you are to read has been circled. Take your time, and if there are words you don’t understand or can’t pronounce, I will help you with them. Or maybe one of you other students can help.”
She began to walk slowly around the tables, setting a paper down at every desk with a student older than 12. The eleven-year olds, she’d noticed in time, didn’t fare well reading the papers. There were some words that confused even Matthew, though he hated to admit it.
Once all the papers were distributed, Mary went back to her desk and turned around to lean on it the way she had been doing when they came in. She gripped the edge with her fingers lightly and crossed her ankles.
“All right, Matthew, I think we’ll start with you today. Go ahead and read your article.”
She’d assigned to Matthew one of the articles about the latest transition of the president and how he was fairing with his new Senate and House. He stopped halfway through the article and asked Mary to clarify the government branches.
Mary tilted her head. “I’m afraid I’m not a scholar when it comes to that. But I can give you the basics.”
She did her best to explain how the government worked, and what the purpose was of the House and Senate, but doubted the younger ones understood what she was talking about.
“Why are those things even in place?” Betsy, a bright fourteen-year-old, asked.
“Well, you see, when our nation was founded, our forefathers knew it would not be a good idea for one man to have too much power. He could not make logical decisions for people who did not live in his particular area or experience the things he experienced. What is all right for people in the west is not all right for people in the east.”
“But why not?” Annie, one of her favorite students, spoke up.
“Because the climate is different. That means people have different jobs, and the rules for one state wouldn’t help people in a state where the crops and businesses are different.”
“Is that like how many farms and ranches there are out here, but in the east, there aren’t any?” Annie persisted.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say there aren’t any farms or ranches in the east,” Matthew spoke up. Mary let him take the answer. She was interested in seeing just how much the young man understood. “There are. But like Miss Ross was saying, it gets a lot hotter out here in the west. In some places, like Arizona and Nevada and Utah, the weather is just as dry as it can be. They don’t even have snow in Arizona.”
Some of the students’ eyes widened.
“No snow?” Annie asked, stunned.
Mary laughed. “Yes, Matthew is right. There needs to be people, usually one person, to represent a state or a district, so they can have close personal contact with the people in that district and find out what it is they need from the government.”
“Do the railroads have to ask the government to put down new tracks?” Betsy asked, drawing the attention of her classmates. “Because my pa wanted to work on the railroad line and they wouldn’t let him.”
Mary wasn’t sure how to respond to that. She knew nothing about the railroad lines and their rules. Fortunately, she didn’t need to answer because Matthew spoke up.
“They do have to ask the government for permission to lay the railroad lines. And they do have to ask people in the districts where they want to lay the tracks if it’s okay to put them there. Sometimes it is and sometimes it isn’t.”
“And they are the ones who go to the House and the Senate to express the wishes of the people to the president. The people in their hometowns and states.”
“That’s pretty smart,” Betsy said. “I like that. Maybe someday I’ll represent people. Like Mayor Hanover.”
Mary had to bite her tongue. The first thing she wanted to say was that Mayor Hanover did not represent the people of Glenwood the way he was supposed to. He did his own thing, made his own rules, and governed their town like he was a king and they were all peasants. Her dislike for him continued to grow every day as he made more stupid speeches saying stupid things and making people mad.
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“You don’t want to be like Mayor Hanover,” one of the younger children said, bringing Mary’s attention to him.
“Why not?” Mary asked before anyone else could.
The little boy, whose name was Jimmy, looked at her with wide eyes. “Because he’s a man and she’s a woman. She can’t be a mayor anyway. Can she?”
Mary pushed away the immediate irritation. She didn’t want Jimmy to see it and think it was toward him. She knew what he was saying was right.
“That’s true, Jimmy,” she said, keeping her voice calm while her heart slammed in her chest and anger boiled in her stomach. “She can’t be mayor. Maybe someday that will change.”
“No, it won’t!” Jimmy announced. Again, Mary was taken aback and had to keep her thoughts to herself.
“Why not?” she asked again.
Jimmy shook his head, a look of determination on his face. “My pa says women can’t do things like that because they aren’t smart enough.”
Mary’s face was hot and she was sure her cheeks were red. She pushed herself from the desk and turned slightly away from the children, putting the fingers of one hand over her lips in an unconscious attempt to keep her mouth shut.
“But you know what I told him, Miss Ross?”
She breathed slowly and turned to look at the little boy through fearful eyes. What had little Jimmy said to his pa?
“I don’t know,” she replied. “Why don’t you tell me?”
Jimmy beamed a smile at her. “I told him he was wrong because my teacher is one of the smartest people I know and I just bet she would be a better mayor than Mayor Hanover!”
He said it with the confidence of a politician.
Mary’s heart melted and she turned back toward the class. Her cheeks were red but this time it was from being flattered. “Oh, Jimmy, what a nice thing to say.”
“Ah, you just trying to butter up Miss Ross!” Matthew said, though a large smile covered his young, handsome face.
“Nuh-uh!” Jimmy retorted, his little face skewing up.
Matthew laughed, throwing his head back. “I’m just teasing you, Jimmy. I think we can all agree that Miss Ross would be a better, smarter mayor. Isn’t that right, class?”
He used his sixteen-year-old voice of authority and spoke loudly.
There were cheers and yesses all around.
Mary patted the air with her hands, indicating they should all quiet down. “All right, children, that’s enough. You are all so sweet for saying such things about me. What can I say? Maybe I would be a good mayor.”
“I wish you could run for office, Miss Ross,” Matthew said, turning his eyes back to her. “I would vote for you.”
Mary tilted her head. “Well, that will never happen. I would not be able to run for office, even if I wanted to.”
“But why can’t the men just vote you in anyway?” Annie asked.
Mary shook her head. “Because that’s not the way the system works, Annie. At least, not right now.”
“I think things will change.” Again, Jimmy used the super-confident voice he’d adopted for this conversation. Generally, he was a soft-spoken child. She could tell he was passionate about this topic.
She nodded. “I hope so, too, Jimmy. There are a lot of things that could change to make this world a better place for everyone who lives in it, men and women included.”
Chapter 8
When class was over, Mary hurried the children out and strolled down the street to the newspaper printing office and went inside. In the lobby, she looked around for someone. She wasn’t sure who to speak to. There was no receptionist or secretary out front so she assumed she was to simply go to the room she could see through the window where someone always seemed to be.
She turned and walked to the room, going through the open doorway to see Philip Jenkins sitting behind the desk, staring at something in his hands. It was a paper or a form; some kind of document that seemed to be upsetting him.
She almost turned and walked back out. It didn’t look like it was the right time to be talking to him about the subject matter she wished to discuss. But he looked up just before she could turn away, and saw her.
Feeling awkward, she tried to smile, knowing it was wavering.
“Hello,” she said. It seemed the proper way to start the conversation.
He blinked at her, looking her up and down with assessing eyes. He seemed unaffected by what he saw and sat forward, setting the paper down in front of him. “Hello, Miss Ross.”
“I can come back later, if you are busy,” she said hurriedly. “I don’t want to bother you. I just have something on my mind and thought it would be good to come and speak to you about it.”
Philip lifted his eyebrows. “To me? What on earth could you have to discuss with me? I don’t want to come to school. I finished that years ago.”
Despite his apparent coldness to the outside world, Mary caught the joke and was sufficiently amused by it. This time, her smile was unwavering and warm.
“I know that.”
“I’m teasing,” he said.
Mary thought his eyes seemed to dance with humor. It seemed odd that only moments ago his eyes had been dark, and his face stressed. His brown hair was tousled just enough for her to tell he’d been running one hand through it. It looked soft. She wondered if it was.
“I know you are. May I come in and talk to you, or are you busy?”
“I’m not too busy for a customer, come on in.” He held his hand out to the chair in front of the desk. “I must tell you, it’s a bit odd to see a woman in here. I usually have male visitors. Don’t tell me, you want to put an article in the paper?”
Mary shook her head, slightly irritated that he thought it was strange for her to come in. Or not that he thought it was strange, but just that no women came in to express the opinion she was about to express. But someone had to start the ball rolling. If God meant it to be her, it would be her.
“I’ve always thought of you as an intelligent man, Mr. Jenkins. I don’t want you to think otherwise. But I have a problem with your newspaper.”
Philip’s eyes narrowed slight and he leaned forward, clasping his hands together in front of him on the desk. “You have a problem? What kind of problem?”
“Well, it’s not really a problem, I guess.” The look on Philip’s face was making Mary nervous again. She felt her stomach twist into knots but was determined to go on. “It’s more that nearly every article you publish geared towards men. You have nothing of interest for women. Did you know that there are women gathering together all over this country right now to lend support to the movement?”
Philip lifted his eyebrows, looking more curious than anything else. “Movement? Are you referring to the suffragists?”
Mary was extremely relieved that Philip knew about the movement. She had feared that she’d have to explain it to him, which might make the situation more awkward.
She nodded. “Yes, that’s just what I’m talking about.”
“I have no problem with the suffragists,” Philip said. “But they aren’t being written about in any of the newspapers I’m affiliated with. I never receive any articles to publish about them.”
“I’m assuming you never get any articles from women to publish in the first place.”
Philip gave her a sarcastic look. “Of course I don’t.”
His Rainbow After the Rain Page 5