Everything pretty much ran on a schedule. The morning meal was at the same time, as were a midday meal and then the evening meal. In between, Oh’Dar was on his own for the first few days, which he spent wandering around the property.
One day, he saw a man bringing a horse into a large building a way off from the main house. He went over to investigate since he had been around horses from his summers staying with the Brothers. The People didn’t ride horses; they were too large and heavy for the animals to carry. But the Brothers did, and were great riders, often holding competitions for speed and mastery. His mother would have been horrified if she had known how Is’Taqa had taught him to ride and how he used to race ponies with the other boys. She thought of horses as too skittish for her relatively fragile son. So he had never got around to mentioning it.
Oh’Dar entered the building carefully, not wanting to startle anyone. The man was putting one of the majestic animals into a compartment of its own. It was the most beautiful mare he had ever seen.
Whatever those are, they’re far larger than the Brothers’, with unbroken coats. And there are so many of them; far more than there are people. If they don’t ride them, what is their purpose?
The man turned to Oh’Dar, “Well, hello there, Master Grayson. I’m Mr. Jenkins. But people call me Jenkins, too. I’m the stable master here. I also direct the work of the other work hands at Shadow Ridge. Oh, I don’t suppose you understand a word I’m saying, from what I’m told. No matter, I like to talk, and you look like a good listener, so we’ll get along just fine now, won’t we?”
Oh’Dar wasn’t used to being called Master Grayson. Of course, no one called him Oh’Dar there either. He didn’t mind the sound of the name, only that it was foreign to him. He could not quite see himself as a Master Grayson, though it had a nice cadence to it.
When Mr. Jenkins said he directed other men’s work, it made him think of his father, Acaraho. Maybe this man was also someone who kept everything running and under control.
Oh’Dar walked past the horses in the other stalls, and they raised their heads and whinnied when he patted them.
“I don’t mind if you stick around, but I have work to do,” Mr. Jenkins said as he picked up a pitchfork that was leaning against the wall.
Oh’Dar had never seen a pitchfork before. His eyes widened at the length of the tines when he saw it in the man’s hands. He exhaled when he saw Mr. Jenkins step into one of the stalls and start cleaning it out. Ah!
After watching Mr. Jenkins for a short while, Oh’Dar signaled that he wanted to help, just as he had when Mr. Webb was tilling his garden.
“Oh no, Master Grayson. Miss Vivian would tan my hide if I let you do this. You aren’t dressed for it, and besides which, you’re her grandson, not some hired hand,” he explained.
Oh’Dar signaled again for him to give him the pitchfork, flashing him his most endearing grin.
“I’ll tell you what. I’m sure that things can get boring around here, so if you want, I’ll ask Miss Vivian if you can help out. But she has to agree to it; if she doesn’t, I cannot let you. And you’ll need some other clothes.”
Mr. Jenkins went over to Oh’Dar and placing his hand on the young man’s shoulder, led him back to the house. The stable master didn’t enter, maybe because of his dirty work boots, but told one of the help he needed to speak to Miss Vivian if she had a moment and could come to the door.
Mrs’ Morgan appeared shortly, and Mr. Jenkins explained that her grandson wanted to help him with the horses.
She told Mr. Jenkins that her grandson had helped Mr Webb with the planting and other chores. She agreed with the stable master that he could not just sit around every day while she was trying to find a teacher for him.
“Is it safe, Jenkins?” she then asked.
“Oh yes, ma’am. I’ll make sure nothing happens to him. I know what you’ve been through, believe me. I’ll make sure none of the horses are loose when he’s around and only let him work in empty stalls. Though he does seem to like them, and they didn’t startle at him like they do most strangers.”
“Well, he’ll need different clothes. I’ll have someone take us into town tomorrow and get him some work clothes. He’ll probably be much happier in them; he’s always fidgeting with his dress clothes,” chuckled his grandmother.
Oh’Dar rolled a stone around with his foot while they were talking, not letting on how pleased he was with the direction in which the conversation was going.
Dinner was a huge production. They ate together in another over-decorated room at a very long table. Mrs. Morgan, whom Oh’Dar was to call Grandmother, sat at the end, and her son and daughter-in-law sat on one side of the table while Oh’Dar sat on the other side at her right. There was little of the laughter there had been at the Webbs’ table.
Oh’Dar learned what was going on from the dinner conversation. Grandmother is looking for a teacher for me, like when Honovi taught me Whitespeak.
His thoughts turned back home. If it weren’t for Honovi, I would be lost now. I must thank her when I see her again, and he pushed back rising emotion.
His grandmother had plans for him to learn to read, whatever that was. And something called arithmetic. He assumed these were things he would have learned growing up as a Waschini child. She had previously mentioned something about making up for lost time.
Oh’Dar looked over at Louis and Charlotte. They aren’t very friendly, and when they smile at me, their smiles don’t go all the way to their eyes, thought Oh’Dar. He had a distinct impression that they didn’t want him there.
He was glad when nighttime came. He enjoyed the solitude. He tried not to think of what Adia and Acaraho and the others would be doing back home.
The next morning, after breakfast, Mrs. Morgan took Oh’Dar’s hand and led him outside to where a horse and carriage were waiting. Before they got in, she tugged on his clothes and then pointed to the barn, trying to get him to understand what they were doing. He acted as if he understood.
It’s a good thing I could understand what they said earlier. No one could possibly know what Grandmother means from the vague gestures she’s making, but she’s trying so hard.
The town was much larger than the little Waschini village he had walked into months ago. There were horses and carriages and wagons everywhere, as well as people walking along the sides of the roads. It was overwhelming and very confusing.
They pulled up to a building and went inside.
Before too long, Oh’Dar had two new sets of work clothes and two hats; a big black leather hat and a straw hat for working outside with Mr. Jenkins. Unfortunately, he also had two new pairs of boots—brown for day and black for dress.
His grandmother stood back and looked at him, her hands clasped in front of her.
“You’re soon going to be a very handsome man, Grayson, just like your father and his father before him.”
She let him keep his work clothes on. When they got back to the house, she held up his dress clothes and pointed to the house. Then she pulled on the clothes he had on and indicated the barn; finally, she made a loop in the air all around the rest of the outdoors. She repeated it, and Oh’Dar nodded at her and smiled, letting her know he understood.
She’s trying so hard to help me.
Oh’Dar leaned down and planted a kiss on her cheek, something he had seen Grace do to her mother many times.
Mrs. Morgan raised a hand to her cheek where Oh’Dar had kissed her, and tears came to her eyes. Oh’Dar knew she wasn’t sad; he knew that his gesture had touched her heart.
Over the next few days, Oh’Dar helped Mr. Jenkins with whatever he could around the stalls. Mr. Jenkins kept his word and made sure that at no time was Oh’Dar in danger.
A few mornings later, Oh’Dar came in to find Mr. Jenkins tending to one of the mares. She had scraped herself, and the stable master had just finished treating her leg.
Oh’Dar remembered seeing some Yarrow out in the field earlier and went o
ut and gathered some. He brought it back in and showed it to Mr. Jenkins.
“Well, what is that, Grayson? Yarrow? How do you know about that?” he asked. Yarrow was very effective for wound care in a poultice.
“You’re certainly a mystery, aren’t you, son?”
Later that evening, Mrs. Morgan was sitting outside on the wooden porch swing. It was a beautiful night. Peeper frogs were singing in the distance. Bats swooped lacily across the twilight sky in pursuit of bugs and mosquitos.
Oh’Dar came out and sat down beside his grandmother. She placed her hand on his and seemed glad for his company.
“I was just talking with Mr. Jenkins about you, Grayson. It seems you know something about medicine. He always gives me such good reports about you. How helpful you are, how you learn so fast. And that you’re good-natured and easy to get along with.
“I think I’m close to finding you a teacher. I want just the right person, someone who is going to be patient with you and not ruin your desire to learn.”
Oh’Dar dug his toes against the porch floor to keep the swing gently moving so she could relax and enjoy it. He loved the creaking sound it made as it moved to and fro.
“I wonder if you would enjoy being a veterinarian. I saw how much that little dog of the Webbs loved you—and how much you loved him. We have to get you into something that interests you. Once you learn to read, write, and speak, you can do anything you want; I know you’re smart enough.”
Oh’Dar didn’t know what a veterinarian was; some kind of Healer perhaps. His grandmother’s voice was soothing to him, and he breathed deep, taking in the night air.
“Of course, you won’t have to worry too much about making a living. I’ll see to that. After your father died, everything was changed, so it would all go to your Uncle Louis. But now that you’re here, I’ll have to make arrangements for your welfare. It’s only fair that you should get your father’s share,” she continued.
From inside the screen door, Louis was listening. He had been about to walk outside, but when he heard his mother talking, he stopped to eavesdrop.
Louis stepped oh so carefully away from the door. He placed one foot gingerly in front of the other up the long staircase and practically tip-toed back to the bedroom that he and his wife were using.
He closed the door behind him. Charlotte was at her dressing table, brushing out her blonde hair.
“Well, the good news is, she hasn’t changed her will yet. The bad news is, she’s going to.”
Charlotte frowned at his reflection in the mirror before her. She angrily tossed the silver-handled brush down on the vanity.
“What are we going to do about this, Louis!”
“I’ll think of something. Mother hasn’t changed it yet, so there’s still time.” Louis sat down and rested his head in his hands.
“He’s always in that barn with those stupid horses and that old stable hand,” Charlotte said. “But if something happened to him, I don’t know if your mother would handle it, Louis,” she added suggestively.
“Well, maybe we can kill two birds with one stone. Frankly, I’m tired of waiting around for her to die. If something happens to the kid and it pushes her over the edge, all the better,”
“Don’t take too long, Louis. It will look suspicious if anything happens to him after she changes that will. Right now, only a handful of people know he exists. Once her lawyer knows about him, it could cause problems later.”
Within the week, Mrs. Morgan finally selected a teacher for her grandson. The teacher would work with Grayson every day in return for her room and board, plus a stipend. She came very highly recommended and was versed in teaching reading, writing, English, and arithmetic to children of all ages.
When the carriage pulled up with the young woman inside, Mrs. Morgan was standing at the top of the long stairs with Grayson.
The driver hopped down to help the teacher out of the carriage. Her brown hair was piled on top of her head, and her long skirts brushed the ground. She had several large bags with her, no doubt containing teaching supplies in addition to her personal belongings. She didn’t look much older than her pupil.
Mrs. Morgan waited with her grandson while the teacher walked up to the top to meet them.
“I’m Mrs. Morgan, and I’m pleased to have you here. This is my grandson, Grayson Morgan. He’s the one you’ll be instructing.”
“Good Morning, Ma’am, I am Miss Blain,” and she gave a little curtsey.
“Come in and get settled, Miss Blain. You must be tired from your drive. Mrs. Thomas will show you to your room, and your bags will be brought to you shortly. Please make yourself at home. Dinner is served exactly at six pm, and someone will come to bring you down,” explained Mrs. Morgan.
Dinner was nothing if not prompt. Oh’Dar had learned to count the chimes of the clocks throughout the house. He didn’t understand them all, but he knew the pattern of the one that went off just before it was time for the evening meal, and the one that went off exactly when dinner started and everyone was expected to be seated. He decided that it was somehow like the sounding horn that called the People to assembly.
Miss Blain was seated to the right of Oh’Dar, balancing out the table seatings.
He tried not to stare at her. She reminded him just a bit of Honovi. She had the same gentle air about her, and she had the same beautiful dark brown eyes of the Brothers. She was considerably shorter than him, and her clothes followed the shape of her body closely—which he found appealing for some reason. He had never noticed women’s figures before.
Oh’Dar focused on eating without dropping anything, making sure not to react to anything that was said. There was nothing particularly interesting tonight, anyway, other than the presence of Miss Blain.
His grandmother and the teacher talked about schedules and being sure to allow time for her grandson to help Mr. Jenkins in the barn.
“I want my grandson to have every chance to succeed, and I’ll spare no expense in helping him. Mr. Jenkins told me that Grayson has some knowledge of medicinal care. Perhaps he might want to be a veterinarian or even a doctor.”
Oh’Dar intercepted a strange glance between Louis and Charlotte.
Dinner wrapped up with Mrs. Morgan and Miss Blain making plans to spend the next day going over the lesson plan the teacher had put together.
Later, Oh’Dar overheard his grandmother telling Mrs. Thomas that Miss Blain didn’t look even ten years older than him, but that she came well recommended and trained in the latest methods.
Louis had learned to ride as a young boy. He knew how dangerous horses could be, especially stallions. And he knew that Oh’Dar had an interest in the horses, though his mother had forbidden him to be around them when they were loose.
He also knew that Mr. Jenkins left work early on Thursdays and that he and Grayson were often in the horse stables early, since the teacher and the others rose later in the morning.
The next day, as Louis had planned, the two were already working when he showed up. Since schooling started tomorrow, this was the last day Grayson would be with the stable master for a while.
“Well, hello, Mr. Morgan, what brings you here?” asked Mr. Jenkins.
“I thought it was time I started to get to know my nephew, and since he always seems to be out here, I decided to join you. What are you doing?”
“We’re just making some minor repairs to the paddocks. Not only is your nephew a hard worker, but he’s also pretty good with tools too. Fast learner.”
“I might want to go riding later, Jenkins. You get off early today, right?” Louis asked.
“Yes. But I can saddle up one of the mares before I go if you can take care of her after you’re done riding,” Mr. Jenkins replied.
“I can do that. How about Dreamer?” Louis suggested.
“Are you sure about that? Dreamer is barely broke. You haven’t ridden in some time, Mr. Morgan.”
“It’ll be fine. I like a challenge. Don’t worry; if I
do anything stupid, it won’t be on your head,” he laughed.
The stable master shrugged his shoulders, “Alright. But don’t underestimate him, son. Dreamer’s a powerful animal, and he isn’t that easy to control.”
Louis made sure he was back at the stalls before Mr. Jenkins left. He wanted to catch his nephew while the young man was still there.
As promised, Dreamer was saddled up and ready to go. Louis noted that Grayson was sitting outside on one of the fence rails, a safe distance from the huge black stallion. Mr. Jenkins pointed to where he was seated and held up both his palms, telling him to stay there.
Louis was an outstanding rider. Even he had a little trouble getting Dreamer started but eventually took off down the long driveway.
Mr. Jenkins watched him ride off and then turned to Grayson and said, “I’m on my way to the hired hands’ quarters, Master Grayson. Best you get back to the house,” and he motioned the young man toward the big two-story home.
Both Mr. Jenkins and the boy headed off in different directions, Mr. Jenkins walking up over a little hill that led to the crew quarters.
Louis had ridden down the long driveway but took care to remain in sight of the barn. He turned to watch Mr. Jenkins head in the other direction toward the crew quarters. Once Jenkins had disappeared from view over the little hill, Louis rode as fast as he could back to the house.
Oh’Dar heard the pounding of horse hooves behind him and turned to see Louis and Dreamer practically skidding to a halt a few feet away from him.
“Hello, Grayson. Do you want to try riding?” Louis said as he dismounted. He looked around to make sure no one else was watching.
Then he motioned to Oh’Dar to go ahead and get up onto the saddle. Oh’Dar had never been on one, and it looked like so many other contraptions the Waschini came up with: overdone and unnecessary. All the riding he had done was either bareback or with a blanket thrown over the pony’s back.
Oh'Dar's Quest Page 13