Common Sons

by Ronald Donaghe

  * * *

  She was heartsick at Joel’s excitement, especially seeing the sheets and pillows, which brought the reality home of what he’d told them. Even though Douglas had said it was only a phase, she doubted it. And the finality of it had already settled over her like the coming of winter to her garden. But she also felt an overwhelming sympathy for Tom, whose stern, unyielding father reminded her of her own. And she had to give Tom the same understanding for that. But it was too bad that his mother, like hers, was an innocent party. She only hoped that Tom would realize the loss a mother feels.

  She cleaned the guest room to make space for Henry, Jr. and Sally Ann, then moved to Joel’s, deciding to make room there for the twins. As usual, it was messy with dirty clothes. His desk piled with nature books, farming journals, and souvenirs from high school. She placed the books back on the shelf above the desk next to his high school yearbooks. She looked around her, saw the Golden Gloves boxing trophy he’d won two years before and stared at it. It flew in the face of all she’d ever heard about people like he now said he was. Nowhere she looked could she find any evidence to the contrary. She was confused. For now, she would do her best to remember that whatever he was, Joel was the same boy he was yesterday and the day before. As for herself, she decided that she would follow Douglas’ wishes. She hoped that he knew what he was doing.

  * * *

  Joel hugged the bedding close as he picked his way through the bushes. He had also taken a broom and some cleaning supplies with him. At the well, he filled a bucket with water. He readjusted the bedding and cleaning supplies and struggled back to the shack. The sun was falling quickly toward the horizon; toward the west in the barren desert, dust rose and began to cloud the sky, and as the sun sank it turned a bloody color. When he got to the house, he knocked on the door. “Open up in the name of the law!”

  Tom opened the door, laughing, and took the things Joel shoved at him. What took you so long?”

  “I talked to Mom and Dad.”

  “Everything went okay?”

  “Yeah. They want us to go back and eat supper tonight.”

  “First,” Tom said, “take a look!” He waved his hand around the room.

  The dreary, darkened look was gone. He had cleaned out the stove and opened more windows. The cobwebs were gone. “I used some of that salt cedar bush to sweep,” he said, smiling proudly. He had moved the bunk bed into the other room, taken it apart, and now a double bed sat below an open window with the afternoon sunlight slanting in on the bare mattresses. Beside it he had placed the wooden crate. On top of that he had placed some colorful flowers, his picture of Joel washing the pickup, and his picture of them at the pond.

  Joel looked around, impressed.

  “Welcome home!” Tom said.

  They made their bed and Joel told him of the deal his father had made. Tom listened, then said, “Hope we can make it. If anything goes wrong, you know we’ll really be in trouble.”

  “Yeah. This isn’t play house,” Joel agreed. But in the back of his mind he couldn’t worry too much about their problems. Nor could he know that Tom was depressed, feeling the loss of his parents as if they had suddenly died and he was not allowed to go to their funeral.

  They walked back through the bushes, holding hands in the waning daylight. Joel’s grip was tight and, as always, it overwhelmed Tom. He felt the lump in his throat squeezing, but he forced back the sobs for the loss of his family. “We’ll make it, won’t we, Joel?” He said it lightly, but it almost made him cry.

  Joel stopped him and put his arms around his shoulders. “Damn right! Because it’s you and me. You’ve got to understand that. No matter what. And we’ve got to be just like we are now, no matter how much people hate it.”

  Tom felt his sadness recede a little, joining the tide of turmoil he felt awash in his stomach.

  CHAPTER 17

  Tuesday, June 15

  She packed a box with old dishes and some pans that they would need, fondly recalling setting up her daughters when they had left home with their husbands, but she shook off the feeling. This was not the same thing, but they needed things to cook with since Douglas’ deal with Joel forced them to take care of themselves. She set off for the Bracero house, lugging the box.

  She met Tom coming out of her garden. He looked startled. “Hello, Mrs. Reece. I was just admiring your garden. Mr. Reece said he didn’t need help and told me to see if you did.”

  She smiled. Regardless of how she felt about the two of them together, she genuinely liked him. “That would be nice, Tom. But I’d like to go up to your house for a minute. I packed a few things for you.”

  Tom looked at the box. “Well, thanks! What is it?”

  She laughed at his eager face. “You’ll see.”

  He took the box, rocked it up to his shoulder, and charged ahead of her to lead the way. “Wait till you see the house. We worked all day cleaning it and clearing the yard.”

  They passed the cowshed and walked along the east side of the irrigation pond. “We cleared out the old path the Braceros used.

  You shoulda’ seen how overgrown it was. We’re going to terrace it so it looks nice.”

  Eva followed, listening to Tom’s excited voice. She couldn’t help but feel strange, listening to him talk about fixing up the old house. Time, she reminded herself, feeling dismayed.

  When they reached the house, Tom’s T-shirt was soaked with sweat. His muscles showed clearly, and she knew that they would grow larger and firmer if he continued to live here. When she’d first met him, he was just a skinny kid in contrast to Joel; she had thought of him as a child, even though he was older. But that was a mistake. He had proved to be strong, being put out of his home one day and apparently bouncing right back, willing to live in a shack.

  He turned around, smiling, his brown hair falling over his forehead and his dark eyes gleaming at her. The bruise on the left side of his face was a dark blotch now, and with the swelling still evident, the sight of it still hurt her heart. “We hauled away all the old brush that was here,” he continued, “and we’re going to plant grass from here to the path. Joel wants to build a fence around it. That’ll help the house look more homey, don’t you think? Right now, it looks so abandoned.”

  She took the box and waited for him to push the door open. The interior looked dismal, but Tom showed it to her proudly. “You should have seen how dirty this place was. We hauled about 50 gallons of water before we could get the floor clean. It’s got a real pretty surface once it’s clean.”

  “Real nice,” she said, feeling depressed for them. She looked around at its emptiness and set the box down on the bare floor next to the wood-burning stove. “You’ll need some shelves—you don’t even have a table.”

  “Oh, that’s okay. This morning we used a wooden crate to eat breakfast on. We keep it in our.in there.” He indicated the bedroom and laughed. “We ate hotdogs.”

  “For breakfast?”

  He smiled. “Yeah, we haven’t had a chance to buy groceries. Right now we have to get stuff we can keep in the ice chest.”

  “I remember when Douglas and I were first married.” She stopped, realizing how that sounded.

  Tom looked at her. “What?”

  Eva saw that he had caught her slip. “I guess it is like that.”

  He lowered his eyes and looked at the floor. “Yes. I know it sounds strange. But it is.”

  “Well, anyway, see what I brought you.”

  Tom looked through the box, carefully removing the dishes and making appreciative comments, handling the old dishes as if they were the finest china. His movements were gentle, although not effeminate. His beauty was gentler than Joel’s, too, and she thought that Joel probably appreciated that difference between them. Yet she admitted that someone as surprisingly strong as Joel would want his mate to also be strong. And in Tom he had found one. Maybe in contrast to Joel, a girl, a feminine being, would be too gentle. But the solution didn’t make her feel any better. Sh
e was surprised she did not feel quite the dread that had first seized her when Joel had told them about having sex in the pickup. But she shut her mind to any further thought about it.

  “When Douglas puts in plumbing, I think the shelves should be above the sink, over that window.”

  Tom looked where she indicated. “Yeah, we were thinking that would be a good place. And over here, we’re going to put a refrigerator as soon as we can afford one.” He smiled at her, but a look of dismay crossed his face.

  “What’s the matter, Tom?”

  He walked to the door. “Are you ready to go work in the garden?”

  She followed him, puzzled.

  “Is anything wrong?” As they walked back down the path, Tom walked beside her. “I know this is hard for you. I was just thinking how my parents, you know, said they feel. I don’t want to make you uneasy, talking about our house. I told Joel last night that maybe we should just go away.”

  Eva felt tears stinging her eyes. “No, honey, please. You can stay here. It will be all right. You’ve had enough uprooting.”

  He looked squarely at her. His young face was naked; hurt showed in his eyes. “Thank you, Mrs. Reece. I like it here. You and Mr. Reece are so…kind. But how do you feel?”

  They stopped at the tool shed in the garden, and Eva handed him a bag of fertilizer. “I’ll be honest, honey. I don’t know how I feel right now. I hope you understand. We do love you, just as we love Joel, without reservation. You are like a son to us and have been since you and Joel first became friends. And when you had to leave your home, it was unthinkable for us not to take you in. But there is this.closeness, and I am having difficulty with it, but I was just thinking about my own father. He sounds a lot like yours. Douglas and I eloped. We had to because my father didn’t approve of my marrying him so young. But, like Joel and you, I felt I loved him, and I wanted to be with him more than I wanted to follow my father’s wishes. I know I caused a lot of hurt, but I am glad I married Douglas. We’ve had a wonderful marriage. We have beautiful, kind, decent children. So I have no regrets.”

  “And your mother?”

  “Oh, Tommy, like yours, I’m sure she was hurt, but I called her often to tell her we were doing fine, even when we weren’t.”

  Eva showed Tom how to sprinkle the fertilizer in the furrows instead of on the plants, so it wouldn’t burn them. “You’ll be surprised, in a week, after we water the garden again, how fast everything grows.” They started the water on the squash against the fence. “These plants and the watermelons take a lot of water to grow real big and juicy.”

  Tom squinted at her in the sunlight. He was kneeling by the squash. He stood up and stretched. “There sure is a lot to learn.”

  Eva laughed. “I know.”

  Tom stepped over a few more beds and sprinkled more fertilizer. “Mrs. Reece? I’ve been thinking about when I should call Mother. I wrote her a letter but I would like to know how she’s doing. Only I’m afraid.”

  “Would you like for me to talk to her?”

  Tom looked appreciative. “That would be great. And tell her I’m doing okay, will you?”

  “Tell you what! If you’ll finish up here, put the tools away and make sure the water doesn’t run into the road, I’ll call her for you right now.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Reece! Joel will be home early. He said there wasn’t much to do yet in the field. As soon as he gets in, I’ll come help you with supper. It must be a big job now, with all the children.”

  She got up, dusted her hands, and hurried off, a little happier with the way she felt.

  * * *

  But after hanging up the telephone, she felt drained. The woman’s attitude was amazing. Although she had tried to convey Tom’s pain, Mrs. Allen had persisted in a sweet, civilized tone. “He has chosen the death of his spirit because of his lust.”

  “But didn’t you read his letter? What do you want me to tell him? He’s going to ask.”

  The woman sighed. “Tell him I follow my husband in all things. Tell him that he should have gone to the retreat.”

  Eva made one last try. She was close to slamming down the receiver. “What about your son, Mrs. Allen? Isn’t there anything you want to tell him for his sake, to let him know you love him? He’s hurting, you know.”

  The woman’s tone softened. “Tell him.” she said wearily, “the son I loved was obedient and loving to his parents, and I’m afraid until he is willing to give up this lustful, sinful life, I consider him dead.”

  She went to her bedroom to be alone. She cried for Tom and for her own dead children. She cried for Edna Stroud, whose love for her children had been boundless and, in the face of such hardship, more noble and enduring than the Allen woman’s high-minded duty to her husband. Had the preacher’s wife ever lost anything of value if she was willing to let Tom be as good as dead, preferring his obedience over his happiness? Surely not. She was glad that Tom had been spared this. She thought of him now, anxious to know that his mother was not deeply hurt. It would have been better, she thought, if she could have told him she had died of a broken heart.

  Later, she got up and washed her face. The afternoon sun reflected through a window and struck the mirror on the dresser, blinding her with gold. Another day was dying, and she realized she was marking time from yesterday. Nothing yet from the police. She smoothed her clothes and walked through the house. It was quiet. She walked out on the porch. In the yard, Henry, Jr. and Sally Ann were playing. They were laughing, chasing the cat, and seemed to have bounced back. It was amazing that for them at least, one day of sleep and warmth, good food, and new surroundings could have such a soothing effect. Maybe it was the blessing of childhood, when such a change seems like an adventure. Sally had cried herself to sleep and Henry had awakened screaming, but in the daylight, in the new surroundings, they seemed to lose their anxiety.

  She stopped at the cowshed where the twins and Douglas were working. They, too, seemed to be doing better, but then Douglas was always so kind, he managed to make them feel special. “Douglas. I’ve just been talking to Tom’s mother.” She told him what she had said. “You know I don’t hate a living soul, but it would be a blessing if those two monsters would get an early train to hell!”

  He saw her tears and put his arm around her. “You’re going to talk with Tom?”

  “I have to, but I don’t know what to tell him.”

  They walked to the path leading to the boys’ house. “I think you’ll do okay. Just let him know you care.”

  * * *

  She knocked on the door.

  Tom was smiling. “I thought you were Joel. Come in, Mrs. Reece.”

  She followed him indoors. “Would you do me a favor, Tom?”

  “Sure, Mrs. Reece!”

  “I’m not used to being so formal, and considering that you’re living….” she waved, “here, would you mind calling me Mom or Eva?”

  Then she followed him inside and shut the door.

  * * *

  Later that evening, the four Stroud children were asleep. Tom and Joel sat with Douglas and Eva. There was little talk now about the Strouds’ deaths, and the four of them had been discussing what to do with the children.

  “I don’t think the police are going to find any kinfolks,” Eva said. “They never had many visitors as far as I know, and when Edna and I used to see each other all the time, she never mentioned any sisters or cousins.”

  “I seem to recall one time,” Douglas said, “Henry said his parents were both dead. He had a sister or something, though.”

  “You mean Irene Stroud.”

  “That’s her. Whatever happened to her?”

  “She was committed to the state hospital as a mental incompetent years ago.”

  Joel and Tom were sitting next to each other. Every so often, Joel looked over at Tom. He seemed to be doing okay, and the changes in the house had seemed to take his mind off what his mother had said. Joel had his arm around the back of Tom’s chair and, every so often, he
rubbed Tom’s back with his thumb. Tom would glance at him and smile slightly, then return his attention to the conversation.

  “So, the question now is what to do with the children,” Eva said. “I would sure hate to see them get carted off to an orphanage and get split up, after what they’ve been through.”

  Tom said, “I think if you and Mr. Reece really do want to try, you know, to keep them, the church would probably support you in court.”

  Eva brightened. “That might be a good idea. But I’m not sure the church would think we’d be fit, because of Joel.and, well.”

  “Us,” Tom finished for her. “The Romaines aren’t going to make an issue out of that. He’s the senior elder, and since his son, Paul, caused all the trouble to begin with, he might be less inclined to cause any more. Besides, I’ve been dealt with as far as the church is concerned. And you and Mr. Reece are the most capable of taking on four children. You’ve got a healthy environment, and work, and certainly the ability to give them advantages.”

  Eva frowned. “You think the Romaines would help?”

  Tom looked at Joel, then turned to her. “Paul’s parents are very nice people. They visited the Strouds all the time. They know what a rotten life those kids had, and besides, I bet nobody else has expressed much interest in taking in the whole bunch.”

  Eva got up and got the coffeepot. “You want anything, Son?”

  Joel looked up, but saw that she was talking to Tom. He smiled, grateful to her. Tom had not looked up, but Joel nudged him.

  Tom looked at her. “No thanks, Mrs….I mean, Mom.” His face turned red.

  Eva bent down and kissed him on the cheek. “Every time you call me ‘Mrs. Reece’, I look around to see who you’re talking to. We’ll get used to it.” She looked at Douglas over Tom’s head. “Won’t we?”

  Douglas smiled at her. “It just takes time to get used to things, Tommy.” He waved away the pot of coffee. “No more for me, Eva.” He slapped his knees. “I’m going to bed.”