Fool's Gold

by Steve Stroble

convinced him to sell it and use the money to live out his days somewhere where the weather won’t make his body ache so much.”

  “An orchard? But I don’t know a thing about all that. Me father grew field crops in England, you see. Wheat, rye, barley, and the like.”

  “His place has apples mostly and a dozen walnut trees. His wife makes the best cakes you ever tasted every Christmas. She harvests walnuts by the bushel basket to put in them. It’s only five acres. You, your wife, and a hired hand could make it work out. I’m guessing that’s who he is, your hired hand?” He pointed at Rudolph.

  “He is. But an orchard? I don’t know…” Arnold’s voice cracked. The emotions that he was feeling were similar to the time when a ship he had sailed on as a youth began to take on water. The ship had sunk. Most of the crew had survived in the lifeboats but a handful of them had gone down with the ship. “I had hopes of Rudolph here using his knowledge of farming to help me at the farm. You know about apple trees, Rudolph?”

  “No. I learn. Make apple brandy, yah?”

  Arnold laughed for the first time since he had been shot. “Oh, you’re a genius, my boy, a genius.” Visions of spending the rest of his life sampling the brandy to ensure that it was of the highest quality before its sale excited him.

  Andrea groaned. “Wait a minute, you old sot. I only agreed to not live in a city like Boston because you said the farm we were buying is close to Pittsfield. It’s a small city but that’s better than living out in the woods in the middle of no where.”

  Arnold stared at the floor. “Actually my dear, the farm’s really about ten miles on the other side of Pittsfield.”

  “Ten miles! It might as well be 100 miles. It would take me all day to go there, do my shopping, and then come back home again.”

  “You got me there, dear.”

  Andrea turned to the doctor. “How close is this orchard to Pittsfield?”

  “Oh, about two, maybe three miles. It’s right off the road between here and Pittsfield.”

  “You mind showing us this place?” Arnold asked. “Just in case the other farm is sold already?”

  “Glad to. First I have to look in on a patient here in town. Come to think of it, it’s been a while since I visited Jeremiah out at his orchard. I can take you by his place about an hour from now. I can kill two birds with one stone that way.”

  As the doctor left on his call, Andrea motioned Rudolph over to her side. “I’m afraid I need to straighten matters out with Arnold. Do you mind stepping outside for a few minutes?”

  This was the first time in days that Andrea had spoken in German to Rudolph. Thus, he realized that he better move quickly. Once outside, Rudolph studied the tiny village. I’ve seen cities of America, now I will explore a village. I wonder if the girls here are as pretty as the ones in Boston were. It’s a shame that all of Arnold’s daughters are already married. He would make a good father-in-law for me. I have never met such a generous man.

  Inside of the tavern Andrea began her inquiry. As practical as Arnold was careless, she knew that if she did not discern the bottom line quickly they might end up back in Boston. To return there would suit her. However, she knew that Arnold would be miserable. Long ago she had concluded that marriage, as with most of life, was a long painful series of compromises. The ledger in her memory showed that Arnold had made most of the compromises thus far. He had agreed to give up his part in the illegal smuggling of slaves, to move to America, and most importantly, to at long last retire. Even if this retirement were only partial, it was preferable to the rigors of living on two continents, acquiring indentured servants, and traveling across the Atlantic twice a year. She sighed as she weighed the alternatives. At last she spoke to Arnold, who was picking at his bandage to try and relieve his throbbing pain. He had hoped that his wound would distract Andrea. It had not. She immediately spoke her mind.

  “Well, let’s get down to brass tacks.”

  Arnold knew that that phrase had been learned from her father. They only used it to preface any discussion of finances. It’s all over now except the crying.

  “How much have we gone through since leaving Rotterdam?”

  “I’ll need paper.”

  “Never mind.” Andrea pulled a scrap of paper from her purse and borrowed a pencil from the tavern keeper. “You give me the figures. I’ll add them up.”

  “Let’s see. There was his half fare. Then the meals once we got to Boston, the night’s stay along the way here, the tickets on the stage and railroad…”

  “I said the amounts would do.” She tapped the pencil on the table.

  Arnold rolled off the figures as Andrea jotted them down and then totaled them. “One hundred and seventy seven dollars! More than I thought it was.”

  “It always is. I can’t help if everything keeps on costing more and more every year.”

  “So how much do we lack for the farm on the other side of Pittsfield?”

  Arnold shifted nervously. “Umm…that would make us lacking $200 or so.”

  Andrea sighed. “Well, that settles that. If we like the orchard but the owner won’t be taking what we have left, minus about $50 to furnish it, then we’re on our way back to Boston. Tonight.”

  Arnold knew she would compromise no further than that.

  On his walk Rudolph spied the teacher writing at the chalkboard inside of the schoolhouse, customers shopping at the store, and several passersby who tipped their hats and offered greetings to him. Most of the females appeared to be his age; they all looked suitable.

  Now I have seen women from the cities and villages here in America. I like both kinds.

  A shout ended his leisurely stroll. “Rudolph! The doctor’s back. Let’s go.”

  Rudolph trotted to the doctor’s wagon and hopped up into its bed. He rested his head on the luggage and daydreamed about the female variety of Americans. His reverie lasted until they reached the orchard.

  “Good day, Jeremiah.” The doctor called out to the one who had appeared on the porch of the small dwelling with a musket in hand.

  “Oh, it’s you. Thought you were one of those bandits that’s been holding folks up.”

  “This is Mr. and Mrs. Thompson and their hired hand Rudolph. They were riding the stage until a couple highwaymen waylaid it. Mr. Thompson here sent one of them on to the next life. But the other wounded him.”

  “Well, good for you. It’s getting so it’s not safe around here cause of all the crooks. Come on in.” He opened the front door and ushered them inside. “Emma, we gots company.”

  Both fireplaces, one at either end of the home, were blazing inside of the 700-square foot abode. Emma seated the guests as the doctor finished his introductions. She quietly served one of her apple and walnut cakes and a pot of tea.

  “Well, I’m sure this isn’t a social call, doctor. Are you here to tell Jeremiah to move again?”

  “Well, yes and no. You see the Thompsons are fixing to settle here abouts. I told them all about your place.”

  Jeremiah cackled. “The old doc must be getting tired of tending to sick folks. He wants to start helping folks to buy or sell their places instead. Tell you what. It’s at the point where I has to sit in front of the fire for an hour ‘fore I can get moving every morning. And it’s only autumn. By winter I has to sit by the fire for three hours to thaw out. Maybe you’re right, doctor. I started thinking about moving to Virginia. I knows a few left over from the war that’s down there.”

  “War of 1812?” Arnold wondered out loud.

  “Well it sure was not the Revolutionary War. How old do I think I am anyways?” He groaned. “Yes, sir. A British cannonball took my leg plumb off. That’s how I got this.” He placed his wooden peg leg on the table and patted it.

  “And I thought you got it fighting pirates.”

  “You talk like a sailor. You a navy man in the war?”

  “Not exactly. I was still an Englishman back then. I was sailing the ships to supply the English. Guess we didn’t b
ring them enough.” Arnold laughed nervously.

  Jeremiah’s eyes narrowed. “So I suppose you be fresh off the boat, then? Here to steal our land? Damn British ain’t never going to stop invading us.”

  “Actually we moved to Boston years ago.” Andrea came to Arnold’s rescue. “We’re Americans, not British now, thank you.”

  Jeremiah shrugged. “Eh, what the hell? My pappy hailed from London town, himself.” He howled with laughter. “Always swore I’d put a musket ball in any English artilleryman I come across after the war was over. Since you ain’t one I guess I’ll let you off the hook for now.”

  Arnold exhaled slowly. “You mind showing Rudolph and me your trees? Neither one of us is acquainted with growing apples.”

  “Glad to. I haven’t had my morning walk yet.”

  While Jeremiah took his guests on a tour of the dozens of apple trees, Andrea let Emma show her the house. The doctor contented himself with finishing the last of the cake and tea. A generous man, he only charged what his patients could afford. He made up the difference in meals and other offerings. He would be leaving later with either apple cider or baked goods.

  As they walked through the rows of trees Rudolph was the first to point out the deer munching on the apples of a lower branch. “Look! Eat crop!”

  “Don’t get upset. They only eat what they can reach. Besides it fattens ‘em up. When we need meat I come out and shoot one.”

  “How do you harvest the walnuts?” Arnold asked.

  “Simple. Get old sheets or