The Charity

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The Charity Page 12

by Connie Johnson Hambley


  The heavyset aide was grateful for the extra help. “I just can’t seem to get Karen to join in. Sometimes she just gets so far away.”

  “Yeah. I know what you mean. Would you mind if I worked with her a bit?” Jessica looked into the aid’s young face.

  “No. Of course not. Here.” She handed Jessica a sponge and a small bucket of water.

  Jessica sat down beside Karen and gently stroked her cheek and brushed a strand of red hair from the girl’s face.

  “Hello, Sweetheart. Hello, Karen. My name is Tess.” Jessica began the sing songy way of speaking she reserved for calming her horses. She kept a stream of soft words going to Karen while slowly picking up the girl’s hands and guiding them to the water. She then placed both of their hands in the water and used her fingers to tickle Karen’s fingers.

  “Feel that? That water’s cold. Smooth too, huh? Yeah, cold.” Jessica used her free hand to stroke the girl’s face and neck. She saw a brief movement in Karen’s brow and was pleased when she felt Karen’s fingers grasp her own.

  For a moment, fog whirled in front of Jessica’s eyes. A small face surrounded with long dark curls looked up at her. The gray eyes were bright with love and laughter. A tiny hand fumbled with an object. Erin’s face swayed in front of Jessica’s vision. Laughing. Loving. Jessica squeezed her eyes shut, forcing the image to fade.

  “There! That’s it! Now feel this.” Jessica moved Karen’s hand to the carved rails of the crib. Focusing on the young girl in front of her rooted Jessica to the present. The darker memories again successfully squelched.

  Step-by-step with Jessica’s guidance, Karen gradually began to wipe the crib off with the water. The brown-haired girl obviously enjoyed the feel of the cold water and bumpy crib rails on her hand. She smiled a lopsided grin at her task. Jessica yearned to hold her tightly but settled instead for placing her cheek on top of her head. The young aide looked at Jessica with appreciation.

  “Gee. Thanks! I just didn’t know how to get her started. Now look at her. Thank you!”

  “Yes. Thank you.” Jessica jumped at the sound of a man’s voice close by.

  “Oh! Hoyt! Hi there!” Jessica stammered in her attempt to get her bearings. She fought to recover her composure and to get her mind focused on a safe conversation. Jessica stood up and smiled. “I didn’t know you were here today. Did you bring that horrible old valance from your store as a donation?”

  Hoyt chuckled and shook his head. “Nope. Now ya’ll know I’ll never part with that masking tape, don’ cha? Naw. I jus’ came to see my lil’ pum’kin. I haven’t seen her smile that big in ages.” He bent down and kissed Karen’s cheek.

  Jessica was stunned, and color rose in her cheeks. “Hoyt! I... I didn’t know! Well, I mean, she’s a sweetheart.”

  “Yup. She’s my angel. Her mother an’ I love her to bits. We’re just real glad we have this school so close. We just would not know how to bring ‘er up, ya know?” He looked apologetically into Jessica’s eyes.

  “Yes. I do know,” Jessica replied in a faint voice. “It’s hard, but it could be that LD and BI kids are capable of a lot more than we give them credit for. It might sound naive, but I sometimes think that we just have to find the right door to open up to make a connection. That can make all the difference.”

  The lanky man looked at her with a keen interest. “You said LD and BI. Sounds like you’ve had some experience with Learning Disabled and Brain Injured kids, eh?”

  Jessica stammered as she tried to think of a plausible excuse. Eyes downcast, she shook her head in unconvincing denial. Her heart began to pound, and she could feel her palms grow moist. Her guilt tried to swallow her as she pushed against its progress.

  Thinking her discomfort was from embarrassment, Hoyt kissed his daughter and continued talking. “This school has been a God-send to us. Ya ever hear of it before?”

  Had she? Jessica shook her head.

  “Well then, c’mon an’ I’ll give ya the nickel tour an’ introduce ya to some of the Cleanup Day’s coordinators.” He took her arm and walked down across the commons.

  It did not take long for the barrel-chested Father to lope up to them with a grin on his face. He took a long deep breath and nodded at the scene in satisfaction. “Well, Tess White! I’m glad you made it! So, how do you like our annual Cleanup Day? There is no finer sight than to see everyone work together for a common cause. Right, Hoyt?” The Father looked at the hardware store owner with affection. “I saw your lovely wife ClaireAnne earlier today. I certainly hope she’s going to make her Gramp’s Black-Eyed Beans dish for the supper on Saturday. The day wouldn’t be complete without it!”

  “Thanks, Bertrand. I know she’s already begun soakin’ ‘em beans so you don’t have to worry!” Both men laughed and patted their rounded bellies.

  “I certainly hope we can expect to see you there, Tess. After all, you’ve put in a hard day’s work here today and no doubt Saturday will come and you’ll work hard then too. You’ll deserve a break. How about it?” The priest looked at her expectantly.

  Jessica blushed and looked away briefly. Working side-by-side with her new neighbors was an activity that Jessica enjoyed and could relax doing. The task offered focus and fodder for conversation about things other than her. But being in a purely social situation without a pending project as an excuse to break off an unwanted conversation was too much for her. She had begun to demur when Hoyt broke in.

  “Tess. I saw something in Karen I haven’t seen in a long time today. You just seemed to touch her somehow, an’ well, I would like to thank you by having you as my an’ ClaireAnne’s guest. How about it?”

  Jessica looked at the Father and back at Hoyt. The earnest looks in their faces wiped away the last of her resolve. She smiled. “Of course I’ll come. It would be my pleasure.”

  The Father beamed at having a lamb enter easily into the fold. “Wonderful! Saturday’s supper it is!” he exclaimed. After a few more pleasantries, he strode away to tend to others in his flock.

  Jessica watched his large figure as it disappeared into a group of people. “That’s quite a guy,” she said with a smile. “You two seem to be good friends. Have you known him long?”

  “Oh, Bert?” Hoyt chuckled as he thought of his friend. “Oh yeah. Him an’ I have been friends ever since he came to this parish over twenty years ago. At first, I thought he was just some know nuthin’ green rookie from up north. But now I know him as a God-forsaken know-it-all who still talks funny.” He laughed at his own joke as he looked in Father Steeve’s direction. “He’s a good man, that one. When ClaireAnne an’ I found out that our little girl had problems, it was Bert who helped us find this place. I told ‘im that we couldn’t afford a place like this, but he found a way some’ow to get Karen in here and to help pay ‘er bills an’ all.” Hoyt’s eyes misted at the depth of his gratitude toward his friend. He swallowed hard to keep back his feelings. “Yep. He is a good man.”

  Jessica listened with interest. She had sensed a tremendous good from the Father as well. It was nice to hear her judgment of him confirmed by a close friend.

  She began to casually scan the small groups of people that were disbursed around the grounds performing odd jobs in preparation for the weekend’s activities. The people greeted each other warmly with much affection. She closed her eyes and absorbed the scene with a freshness in her outlook. She was beginning to feel closer to this town and its people. The longings she had for some roots were strong, and she was beginning to feel at ease with her new life.

  When she opened her eyes, a figure in the distance caught her attention. A man in his early to mid-thirties moved among the people with great ease. He was tall with a strong build. She was too far away to get a good look at him, but it was his energy and the way the other people reacted toward him that was so intriguing. She could see that people greeted him enthusiastically and with great familiari
ty. He paused to talk with two white-haired women who obviously delighted in his attention. He lifted his head in laughter and faced Jessica’s direction.

  Her heart skipped a little as she lowered her eyes with embarrassment. The man continued in his conversation until he was gently pulled away by another group of people.

  “So, wouldn’t Friday afternoon be okay for you then? Tess?”

  Jessica forced her attention back to Hoyt. “Oh, I’m sorry. Yes of course.” She felt foolish at her reaction to that man. She focused her thoughts on what she had just agreed to. She couldn’t remember. “Friday?”

  “Yeah, Tess. Friday ‘ill be the day that ev’ry one chooses their teams for the Harvest Hunter Pace comin’ up next month.”

  “I remember hearing something about that. I don’t have a decent horse at the moment. I’ve been so busy getting my house and barn fixed up I haven’t given any thought to riding in it. The two horses I have are certainly not ready for any events. Maybe some other time.”

  Hoyt pressed, “I think ya ought ‘a be there for more than the spectacle though, eh?”

  “Um, yes... but,” her voice waivered. The brief moment of happiness vanished. As welcoming as everyone appeared, Jessica sensed she was moving forward too fast and tried to distance herself.

  “What? Well, come by my farm tomorrow mornin’. I’ve got a couple a’ animals you can pick from, and we’ll get you suited up to a decent horse for Friday.” Hoyt held up his hand to stop the flood of protest he felt about to spill forth from his companion. “It’s settled an’ I won’t hear nuthin’ more about it. Ya’ll come down to Percival’s Proper, my farm, tomorrow. It’ll do ya good.” Hoyt patted Jessica on the shoulder and walked back to join his daughter.

  Saturday’s Cleanup Day dawned as a bright cloudless day. A bit stiff from her ride the day before, Jessica arrived early to help with the final preparations of the sale items but also to have a chance to spend a bit more time with some of the school’s residents before the day got busy. She saw Karen’s brown pigtails and made a point to spend a lot of time with her touching her hands and talking to her. It took a few minutes, but Karen started to relax and smile. Her head lagged back on her neck, but her smile was strong.

  “There you go, sweetheart. There you are, my friend. How are you today? Do you smell that fresh air?” Jessica took an exaggerated inhale. She kept a running dialogue with her friend, forging a connection. ““Mmm. Smell that, Erin? Um, good girl.”

  “It’s Karen.” Hoyt’s voice broke through the morning.

  “Oh! Right. Of course... Karen.” Jessica stammered.

  “That was some ride you had yesterday!” Hoyt stepped up and gently held Karen’s hand as he spoke with Jessica. “Ya’ll said you could ride, but my Gawd! I hain’t never seen anythin’ like that before. Why it was like you an’ my ol’ gelding were one animal! You jest met that horse not more than two days before an’ then there you were, glidin’ over fences and climbin’ mountain sides like an Alpine goat. It was like you had some kind of special connection with that horse. It was just amazin’!”

  Jessica flushed at the compliment. She knew Hoyt was a bit concerned when she took him up on his offer and inquired whether she could try out his big chestnut gelding, Gapman. His concerns were immediately pushed aside when he saw the dialogue she began with the big animal. Using soft tones and cues from her hands and legs, it seemed to anyone watching that she just told the horse what she was going to do and then did it. The horse never gave her an ounce of trouble and looked like it enjoyed the ride as well. Gapman had been keenly conditioned by Hoyt, so it was just a matter of getting the horse and rider to know one another.

  The talk at Cleanup Day was dominated by Friday’s team picking and even Jessica had to admit yesterday’s event was spectacular. She took in every detail when she was there. The far end of the valley and the mountainside had been marked into two courses, one advanced and the other for moderate skills. Points were given to riders on the basis of the course ridden, the time it took to complete the course and how ‘clean’ the run was, that is, whether a horse ticked a fence with its hoof when it jumped or whether a rider misjudged an approach to an obstacle causing a horse to refuse to go over it. All riders were then given scores. Teams were formed on the basis of scores or whether the riders just wanted to be on the same team or not. Some teams were purely social in nature and others focused on the event itself with an obvious intent to win.

  Jessica and Gapman finished with a respectable fourth ranking. Being the new face in town made the townspeople take more notice of her. Jessica wasn’t sure that she liked being the center of attention, but she knew that being a strong equestrian in this community would make it easier for her to establish her reputation as a trainer.

  She was a bit miffed at her own ranking, however. She thought the advanced course was easy, but Gapman was not accustomed to taking the terrain in the way Jessica coaxed. She opted for a more conservative style of riding to bring both of them home safely and still friends. She did not want Gapman to have any bad memories of the day or Hoyt would have trouble from him in the future. Horses had a way of remembering bad experiences and becoming ruined with just one ride. In fact, the gelding seemed invigorated by the challenge she gave him.

  Jessica was relieved when she had been approached by a team from down the valley that was serious about winning. “I learned last night that Chad Bleauvelt invited me to join his team. He mentioned that he had a horse or two I might be interested in riding for the Hunter Pace. Of course you know that as captain, Mr. Bleauvelt has final say on the horse I ride. But let me work with Gapman for the next few weeks and see what I can do with him. I can’t promise you anything, but if what I sensed with Gapman is true, Mr. Bleauvelt will end up begging you to let me ride Gapman in the Pace.”

  Hoyt was tickled at the thought of the snobby Chad Bleauvelt begging him to let his horse be ridden by Bleauvelt’s team. He reached his hand out and patted Jessica’s shoulder. “I’ve been in Perc all my life and know what a good reputation of a horse or rider can do for a person.”

  “Gapman is a great horse. He seemed to really respond to the terrain. Have you taken him out on that type of pace before?” Jessica stood up and stretched her back. She had not ridden that aggressively in a while and her muscles felt a bit sore.

  “No. Not too often. We thought Gapman was just as happy takin’ it easy too, but after looking at ‘im yesterday you’d a think we were drivin’ ‘im crazy with boredom. ClaireAnne and I stick to the easier hunts and events now. I love the thought of having one of my horses do well at the Harvest Hunter Pace. I even fancy that my hardware business would pick up if Gapman did well. And I’m sure that Tess White is just the woman to do it.”

  “I would love to train Gapman for you!

  “Great! I’ll see you Monday morning. ClaireAnne will be at the farm and will help you get started. Now then, where’s my pum’kin?” He turned quickly to locate his daughter.

  Jessica spent the remainder of the day helping out where she thought she was most needed, lifting furniture or running for more change. Once the tag sale was over, unsold items were boxed back up and placed into storage. The happy and hungry volunteers made their way into the main dining hall of the school for the promised supper. Jessica was quite aware of people smiling and nodding in her direction. Judging by the tilt of their heads and the slow glances in her direction, Jessica knew she was the grist for the conversation mill. Breaking away from one such huddle, a slightly overweight woman with graying brown hair approached her. Jessica recognized her as ClaireAnne Percival.

  “Tess! Tess! Over heyah, Dahlin’!” Jessica stood stiffly while ClaireAnne kissed her cheek. “My Gawd, child. We were just talkin’ ‘bout you! Why ridin’ our ol’ horse an’ makin’ ‘im look like some kind of champion er sumthin’. And havin’ Chad Bleauvelt ask you on his team!” ClaireAnne’s round face lit up with deli
ght. “My Stars! Well, I just ne’r seen anythin’ like that!”

  Jessica nodded in greeting as she was introduced to ClaireAnne’s circle of friends. She could tell that each woman was soaking up the details of how she looked and acted so that the information could be passed on to the next circle of friends. Jessica remained guarded but pleasant. The sudden novelty of fame she was experiencing would wear off soon enough.

  She chatted pleasantly with the women about Cleanup Day as they made their way through the buffet line. Hoyt and Father Steeves joined them. Hoyt regaled Father Steeves with the details of the team picking and delighted in the fact that his horse might be up to being on Bleauvelt’s team. Jessica listened with enjoyment to the banter and was pleased to learn that Mr. Bleauvelt had won the Harvest Hunter Pace several times in the past and was serious about doing so again.

  Jessica learned that the Bleauvelt family had lived in Perc for generations. They had made their fortune off of the riches of the land in coal and timber farther north of Perc’s valley. They had also been instrumental in keeping Perc’s original beauty, preventing the scarring that those enterprises could do to a hillside. The Perc Land Preservation Trust, created by Bleauvelt’s great grandfather with other wealthy landowners, tried to keep as much land open and pristine as possible for the enjoyment of all residents.

  The conversation turned to how the Bleauvelts had spent their riches. Chadwick Bleauvelt IV, Chad’s grandfather, was determined to win the Kentucky Derby. He spent vast sums of money on horses, trainers and jockeys and eventually won with Bleau Your Horn in the mid sixties. Having succeeded in accomplishing what he set out to do, and after losing more money than he won, he determined that horseracing was for the foolish and the lucky. He loved living in the world of horses, and he traded in his expertise. He focused on recreational riding and hunts, growing a fine stable of specially bred horses.

 

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