The Scholar

by Tess Thompson

  We all said our goodbyes before he practically ran down the steps of the porch and around the corner of the house.

  “What do you think of the new porch?” Josephine asked me. “Phillip designed and built the whole thing.”

  “I like it very much,” I said. “What a great way to spend the afternoon.”

  “And it keeps the bugs out in the evening,” Mama said. “Thanks to clever Phillip.”

  Josephine beamed at her husband. “He is clever.”

  Phillip brushed aside the compliment. “Nothing to it, really.”

  “I saw Dr. Neal at the Johnsons’ store yesterday,” Papa said. “He looked as if he might collapse on the spot.”

  “The poor man,” Mama said. “He’s been counting the days until you arrived, Theo.”

  Papa nodded. “He lost a baby in delivery last month and feels haunted by it. He’ll want you to take over that part of things, I expect.”

  Josephine had baby Poppy cradled in one arm as she poked her fork into one last bite of chicken. “Martha said he hasn’t slept well since.”

  “Sadly, losing babies happens,” I said. “I’m certain he’s blameless.”

  The talk moved to the opening of the new schoolhouse. My attention waned. Hearing about Dr. Neal’s troubles worried me. The life of a small-town doctor would encompass a myriad of responsibilities. Losing babies was inevitable. I must harden myself to a certain extent.

  “Do you ever miss teaching, Mama?” I asked, forcing myself back into the conversation.

  She glanced over at Papa. “Once in a while I have a twinge of remorse, but you kids have kept me so busy over the years that it was like I had a full classroom.”

  Josephine laughed. “Seven of us is like a classroom.”

  “And now we have the grandbabies.” Papa’s eyes twinkled. “Never a dull moment.”

  2

  Louisa

  * * *

  The problem with trouble? One never sees it coming until it’s too late. In the years since I’d been with the Linds, I’d been lulled into a false sense of safety. Then, out of nowhere, I was faced with complete uncertainty. Would I be returned to a life of near starvation and homelessness?

  I’d gone to Isak Olofsson’s bakery thinking all was well. I lived a quiet life with the Linds, taking care of them as they began to show the signs of age, cooking, shopping, and cleaning for them. In addition, I taught Sunday school and helped with whatever other church duties they needed. My existence wasn’t exciting, but it was steady and safe. That’s all I needed.

  “Louisa, I wondered if you had a minute?” From behind the counter, Isak wiped his hands on the front of his apron.

  “Yes, what is it?”

  He looked around his empty shop as if he were worried there were others eavesdropping before speaking. “I heard a few of the old biddies from church talking this morning. They must have thought I couldn’t hear or maybe that I wouldn’t care, but they were talking about Pastor Lind.”

  I clenched my teeth together. Knowing what he would say, I waited. Mrs. Poe hadn’t been discreet in her dislike of Father. No doubt she’d decided to start another church in town. What did I care, anyway? There were enough sinners in town for two churches.

  Isak placed both of his large hands palm down on the wooden counter. A powder of flour dust coated the reddish hairs on his forearms. “Mrs. Poe said the church board has voted and they’re getting rid of your father.”

  My stomach dropped. Black dots danced before my eyes. “That’s impossible.”

  “I asked Flynn about this,” Isak said. “He said the board is elected by the members to represent their wishes. Apparently, Mrs. Poe has been on a secret campaign to lure people over to her side.”

  I thought I might pass out as I gripped the edge of the counter. “I had no idea.”

  “She’s very persuasive, I guess. I’m sorry, Louisa. I wanted you to know in case there’s something to be done.”

  “Thank you.” I picked up my loaf of bread and left the shop in a daze. Blindly, I walked the few blocks home. How was this happening? Where would we go? The house belonged to the church. Did Father and Mother have savings? Would we be able to find somewhere to live?

  Yes, I told myself. Of course they had savings. They’d sent me away to finishing school, after all. That wasn’t the act of poor people.

  Yet there was also the fact of my mother’s surgery the previous year. My mother hadn’t wanted anyone to know that she’d suffered through a serious health condition. It had started with a chronic wet cough and shortness of breath. I’d insisted, finally, that she go see Dr. Neal. He’d done a few tests and sent her to an expert in Denver. The team there had suspected lung cancer and had immediately taken her in for surgery where they removed part of her lung. The doctor said the masses were definitely cancerous but assured us that his expert skills had gotten all of the bad cells. I wasn’t so sure. Regardless, we’d told no one. Mother was proud that way. She considered her stout strength her greatest asset as a preacher’s wife.

  There was another fact that had me worried. A small-town preacher relied upon donations from his congregation to pay his salary. For whatever reasons, we were never as successful filling the donation bowl as we hoped. Father always said the Lord would provide. I wasn’t so sure about that, either.

  When I came in through the back door, Mother was at the small table near the kitchen window. Sunshine streamed through the spotless glass. In the bright light, the wrinkles that etched her face were more evident. For a second, I saw her as an old woman instead of Mother. She’d aged right before my eyes but without me truly seeing.

  Even though I’d been with them since I was nine years old and I was now in my early twenties, I still felt as though I’d only just arrived. The three of us had needed one another with an urgency unlike other families. Mother had yearned for a child that never came. Father wanted nothing but to make her happy. I’d needed them for all things: shelter, food, and mostly love. No one could have been more patient or caring. I came to them broken open to the very core. They stitched me up day by day until much of my past, if not forgotten, faded enough for me to feel close to a normal girl.

  I had only to let my mind drift back to the years with my real father to shudder. The games he played with me were too horrid to revisit. Yet when I’d first come here, Mother had encouraged me to talk about them if I needed to. Now that I was gown, I could imagine how awful it must have been for her to hear the atrocities of my childhood. At the time, I was grateful to let them out.

  However, I’d kept one horrible thing to myself. As much as I’d shared with the Linds, I couldn’t tell them about the other thing. The thing my father did that made it impossible for me to love a man. I put all that aside for now. How could I tell Mother and Father what I’d heard?

  Mother smiled at me as I set the loaf of bread on the table. Even if I’d been able to contemplate marriage, leaving my parents wasn’t an option. They needed me to cook and clean and take care of most everything. I couldn’t leave them. Not that I wanted to. They’d given me a chance for a good life. The least I could do was repay them with the same kindness.

  I leaned down to kiss Mother’s soft cheek. “How are you feeling this morning?”

  “Right as rain.”

  “Good. Would you like me to make coffee?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Would you, dear?”

  “Isak had just pulled the sourdough loaves out of his ovens this morning. I bought one to go with our eggs.” I’d walked out to the Cassidys’ farm the day before to buy a dozen eggs from Nora. The youngest of the Cassidy girls had taken over the farm after her father died. She’d added a few milk cows and invested in layer chickens to supplement their cattle. She now kept many of us in town with fresh milk and eggs.

  “How was Nora?” Mother asked. “She wasn’t at church last Sunday.”

  “She was well but said one of her cows had a baby in the middle of Saturday night and she w
as too tired to make it to church.”

  “That girl works too hard.”

  It was true. Their father had died right after the war, leaving his wife and three daughters with a barely profitable small cattle ranch. The oldest of the Cassidy sisters, Alma, had gone off to nursing school and had fallen in love with a gentleman from Chicago and not returned to Emerson Pass. Shannon had married rich Flynn Barnes. Nora, like me, hadn’t felt she could leave her mother, and did the work of a man to keep the place going. I hoped for her sake that she’d have the chance to have a husband and family of her own.

  Father came in the back door. I knew the moment I saw the gray tinge to his complexion that something was wrong. He didn’t greet us but instead sat heavily on one of the chairs at the table.

  “Louisa brought bread from the bakery,” Mother said.

  “I’m fixing eggs, too. Would you like coffee?”

  “No, thank you,” Father said. “I have to talk to you both.”

  “What is it, Simon?” Mother asked. “Are you unwell?”

  He looked pale and exhausted, with puffy bags under his eyes. “I’ve had a shock.”

  I sat with them at the table and clasped my hands together.

  “The board voted. They want us out,” Father said.

  “How can this be?” Mother clutched the cross that hung from her neck. “Where will we go?”

  “We have to be out by the end of the month,” Father said.

  My mind couldn’t grasp any of this. I looked around our small, tidy kitchen. It was all I’d known since I’d moved in with the Linds when I was nine years old. We would be homeless.

  “But why would they do this?” I asked out loud.

  “From what I can gather, Mrs. Poe would like more fire and brimstone,” Father said. “And less encouragement about how the love of Jesus can save any sinner.”

  “Isn’t that the main message of Jesus?” I asked, flabbergasted. Before I’d come to live with the Linds, I hadn’t known much about being a Christian. We hadn’t even had a Bible in our ramshackle house. But they’d quickly rectified that, teaching me of the ways of the Lord. I’d come to understand how daily talks with God could change a battered heart.

  “What will we do?” I asked.

  Mother sighed. “Do what we’ve always done, move on.”

  “To another church?” I couldn’t believe my ears. This was our home. “Can’t you simply retire? We could find another house here in Emerson Pass.” Father was in his mid-sixties. He’d been working hard all his life, always there for his flock.

  Father took off his wire-rimmed glasses and cleaned them with his handkerchief. “My salary was barely enough to live on and with your mother’s operation last year, we’re out of money. There’s nothing left. I don’t know what we can do, other than find another church. There are small towns sprouting up all over the country. Surely I can find another position. We always have before.”

  The idea of leaving Emerson Pass seemed inconceivable. We belonged here. All our friends were here. Frustration made me tremble. What had been the point of sending me to school? “Why, in heaven’s name, did you send me to finishing school? I should have stayed here and worked.”

  “We wanted you to find a wealthy young man who could take care of you,” Father said. “I thought it was your best chance of meeting the right sort of people.”

  “Right sort of people? You’re my people. I didn’t want to get married and leave either of you or Emerson Pass. This is my home.”

  He put his glasses back on, tucking the flexible temples around the backs of his ears in a gesture I knew very well. “Louisa, you have to think about yourself. We’re not going to live much longer. A husband is your only opportunity.”

  “Opportunity? For what?”

  “Survival.”

  I stared at him as tears of anger dampened my cheeks. “Father, why didn’t you send me to school for something practical? I could have become a teacher or a nurse.”

  “Neither of those professions is something you can do and have a family. Do you want to be an old maid?” Mother asked.

  I was astounded by their reaction. Had I not known how much they wanted me to marry? Neither had ever expressed it in such a blunt fashion. Perhaps they should have. I’d thought they were content to have me stay with them forever. That idea had been shortsighted. I could see that now. However, the idea of either of them dying on me was so heartbreaking, I couldn’t even think about it.

  “I thought you wanted me to stay with you,” I said. “I’ve been useful to you, haven’t I?”

  Mother’s eyes filled with tears. “Louisa, I told you from the beginning that we weren’t adopting you because we couldn’t afford a housekeeper. You’re our daughter, not our maid.”

  “Is that what you’ve thought?” Father asked. “That we needed you?”

  “Well, don’t you?” I asked. “I’m young and strong. And a good cook.” I mumbled the last part.

  “Do you not want to marry because of us?” Mother asked. “Because that’s not a good reason.”

  “I don’t want to marry because, well, I just don’t want to.”

  “As much as we love you, we want you to have a life of your own,” Mother said. “A family of your own.”

  “We thought finishing school would bring exactly that,” Father said. “Didn’t you wonder why we were sending you in the first place?”

  “I…I guess I didn’t,” I said. “I thought you wanted to refine me so that I would be more of an asset at the church. Anyway, how was I supposed to meet a young man at a girls’ school?”

  “By becoming friends with your classmates who would then introduce you to brothers and cousins,” Father said with obvious irritation in his voice. “Louisa, I don’t understand you.”

  That much was clear.

  “But what about Flynn?” Father asked. “You liked him.”

  “He didn’t reciprocate those feelings,” I said. “Shannon was the one he wanted. Anyway, he was just a crush I had. All of the other girls in town had one on him.”

  My parents exchanged a glance.

  “Theo cared for you, though,” Mother said. “He made no secret of it.”

  “Mother, no. Not Theo.” How could I explain that Theo would be the absolute last man on earth I’d ever marry? Even if he wanted me still, which I felt certain he wouldn’t. He’d gone off to medical school and would be returning to Emerson Pass to be Dr. Neal’s partner. Most likely, he’d met someone and would bring her here to marry.

  “What’s wrong with Theo?” Father asked. “He was an excellent Sunday school student.”

  “Yes, he always knew his verses. Flynn did not.” Mother seemed to have forgotten our dire situation, because she actually smiled. She’d always been fond of all the Barnes children. Like everyone else in town.

  “Theo’s not for me.” I left it at that mostly because I couldn’t articulate what it was about him that I didn’t like. He was too much like me, perhaps. I could see the pain of his past in his eyes. Sensitive, all-seeing eyes. When he looked at me, I imagined that he could see into the deepest parts of me. The parts I wanted to keep hidden from the world. With someone like him, I’d never be able to stay separate. He’d insist on knowing me. I didn’t want to be known. Not even to my parents.

  If they knew what my father had done, they might understand that the idea of a man’s touch terrified me. I should tell them, I thought. My secret that I’d kept hidden all these years. The words wouldn’t come. Instead, a darkness seeped into my very core. I was bad and damaged. No decent man would want me.

  “I can try to get a job,” I said. “Maybe somewhere in town?”

  “Doing what?” Father asked, not unkindly but with utter hopelessness.

  “Maybe I could get a job as a maid?” I clamped my lips together to keep them from trembling before continuing. “Quinn might need another maid. Or I could assist Lizzie in the kitchen.”

  “Even if you were able to get work, we have no
place to live.” Father put both his hands over his knees and took in a shuddering breath. “I’m not feeling well. I need to lie down for a while.”

  I’d go see the Barnes family as soon as I could. Quinn wouldn’t turn me away. She would surely have some variety of work for me. Or maybe Mrs. Johnson needed someone to help her at her store.

  “I’ll think of something,” I said. “I know I will.”

  Mother only nodded, then rose to her feet and followed Father into the bedroom.

  3

  Theo

  * * *

  The first morning assisting Dr. Neal, I drove into town feeling robust and excited. I was home where I belonged and about to begin the work I’d studied long and hard to learn. Wildflowers decorated the meadows and scented the air with sweet perfume. The sun had already risen in the east and cast rays of morning light onto the landscape. The first part of June and too early for dust, potholes still held puddles of brown water. Mama had told me a sudden rainstorm had come just days before I arrived. Today, the sky was cloudless and a shade of deep blue I’d not seen in my travels.

  My stomach fluttered at the first sign of the brick buildings of town. Dr. Neal’s office was just a block off Barnes Avenue, named after my father. He’d addressed me as Dr. Barnes when he’d called the house last night and asked me to come in first thing in the morning. Dr. Barnes? It still seemed like a title for someone else, not me. I parked near Papa’s office and straightened my tie, studying myself in the mirror for a quick moment. My thick, wavy hair had been tamed with a light pomade my sister Cymbeline had suggested. I ran a few fingers along my chin, feeling for any spots of shaving soap that might linger. All these newfangled soaps and lotions were all the rage. I had to admit they smelled nice.

  I smiled slightly remembering how proud Mama and my sisters had looked when I went downstairs in one of my new suits. I opened the car door and placed my feet onto the ground. One foot after the other, as I’d done for the last four years.

  Papa’s dream had been a thriving community when he’d first come here as a young man. He’d accomplished that, I thought, as I walked down the main street of town. We were nestled in the valley between two mountains and isolated from much of the world. Ice that covered the pond all winter had melted and reflected the blue sky. The Johnsons’ dry goods store had its doors open to allow the fresh air in while Mrs. Johnson hustled behind the long counter waiting on customers. I waved to her as I passed by, and she called out to me. “Good luck on your first day.”