I Want My Hand Back! Ivan howls, and Alvin flinches.
Pappa tries to soothe Ivan by telling him that when we are rich he will buy him a carved hand, the finest one ever, so that nobody knows the difference.
I don’t want a carved hand! I want My Hand!
You can’t have it back! Pappa snaps.
But it’s in that hospital! It’s there! Part of me is there and I want it back!
You want your hand back? The part that was sawed off? Kaarlo asks.
I want to give it a proper burial! Ivan says, and there is a crazed look in his eyes, and he reminds me of poor old Mr. Weilen.
Later that night, Ivan wakes up the whole house. He is smashing the kitchen to bits, just tossing cups and plates and jars and muttering about how He Wants His Hand Back Now. And for a boy who just lost a hand he’s got a lot of fight in him. It takes Alvin, Kaarlo, and Pappa to stop him and finally they just lock him in Mr. Petersen’s sauna for the rest of the night with Alvin standing guard.
Kaarlo’s pale the next morning and much as he was jealous of Ivan getting to work at the logging camp, I can tell he wouldn’t wish this on anyone.
He’s gone plumb crazy, Kaarlo says.
Alvin looks even worse. He says, We got to get that hand back somehow.
Pappa nods.
Pappa gives me the instructions. Wilbert and I are to go to the hospital in Astoria and ask for Ivan’s hand and bring it back home. Uncle Aarno will take us over, but we are to tell no one what we are doing.
What if they don’t have it anymore? Wilbert asks.
Just ask them to give you any hand, Pappa says in exasperation.
As we sail across the Columbia, I look at Wilbert, and say, They got hands just lying around in hospitals?
Guess so. They probably got ears, too. Maybe even toes.
When we show up at the hospital there’s a lady at the desk.
‘Scuse me, I say. We come for my brother’s hand. Ivan Jackson.
The lady gives me a long strange look and then walks out and then comes back with a man who looks like a doctor.
Is there something I can help you children with? he asks.
We need to get our brother’s hand back, I say.
What do you need his hand for? the doctor asks.
‘Cause he’s gone crazy and he wants it back to give it a proper burial so Pappa sent us to fetch it, I say.
The doctor rubs his nose and says, That hand is long gone, I’m afraid. There wasn’t much left of it.
But you don’t understand. We really need a hand! I whisper, It don’t have to be the Exact Hand. Just got to be a Right Hand.
I’m very sorry, the doctor says. But we can’t help you.
Me and Wilbert go outside and watch the ships come in.
What do we do now? Wilbert asks.
Otto will know what to do, I say. He knows Everything about Astoria.
We go to the cannery where Otto’s mom works and Otto is there. He is delivering lunch to the men.
Hiya, Otto! I say.
What are you doing here? Otto asks.
We need your help, I say.
For what?
I guess you could say that We Could Really Use A Hand.
I explain to Otto everything that has happened with poor Ivan and my friend just nods and says, I think I know who can help us: the Widow Mariah.
So off we go running to Mariah’s Tavern, where lunch is over and men are walking in and drinking their wages away. Mariah is in the kitchen.
You’re too early for the fritters, she says when she sees us. I haven’t put them in for supper yet and those men cleaned me out at lunch.
You got any dead bodies lying around? Otto asks.
Mariah doesn’t look the least bit surprised to be asked such a thing. I guess when you’re in the shanghaiing business, nothing surprises you.
You planning on being a doctor? she drawls.
My brother Ivan lost his hand and he wants it back, I say.
We went to the hospital but they’d already thrown it away and they didn’t have any spares, Wilbert says.
Ivan’s gone crazy, I say. Pappa says not to come home without a hand.
Mariah gives us a long slow look and tosses her braid over her shoulder.
I’ve had stranger requests, she says. Let me see what I can do.
I always knew Astoria was a wonderful wicked place, what with all the exciting things happening, but who knew a body could just waltz in and get a hand if you knew the right person? Mariah gives us a potato sack and inside is a hand.
Whose is it? Wilbert asks her.
You don’t want to know, she says. Believe me.
The whole way back to Nasel we peek in the bag to look at The Hand.
It looks too good, Wilbert says. He’s going to know it’s not his.
So when we get off the boat we take The Hand and bang it up and smash it on a few trees.
That’s more like it, I say.
Wilbert gives me a funny look. You think the hand will miss being with the rest of its body?
I don’t know about that, but I do know that I’ve never seen my brother Ivan look as happy as when we give him that potato sack. It’s like we’ve given him a bag of gold.
He smiles and says, I want to bury it in the back pasture.
And that’s what we do. Isaiah builds a little box for it and Mamma convinces the preacher to come and when it’s all over, there’s a dead body somewhere across the Columbia that’s missing a hand, but we’ve got our brother back.
After that, whenever we hear the tree scratching against the house in the dark of night, I whisper to Wilbert, That’s Ivan’s Hand Trying To Get Back To Its Body In Astoria.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Our Loving Family
Hay making is the most bone-tiring time on the farm and every Jackson child must help. We make hay while the sun shines, for if the hay is too wet, it’s No Good and it can burn down your barn which is what happened to the Teppolas two summers ago. Not that we have a barn to worry about right now. Pappa says we will build a new one when we get the Stanley money. In the meantime, Mr. Clayton says we can store our hay in his barn.
We gather the hay into piles we call shocks and then Kaarlo drives the wagon along and we put the hay in it. It’s been hot all week and we take a dip in the Nasel every chance we can get, which is not very often because our brother Kaarlo has turned into a tyrant.
You Are Slower Than Molasses! he shouts to try and make us work faster, but Wendell can’t hear him and I just ignore him.
He’s practicing at being Pappa, I say to Wilbert.
Wilbert grimaces. He don’t need to practice. He’s already good at it.
I hear a bell ringing and there is a boat coming down the Nasel toward our little dock.
It’s Uncle Aarno! I cry, and take off toward the boat.
Kaarlo shouts after me, May Amelia Jackson You Come Back Here Right Now! but I can’t be bothered by bossy brothers, not when my favorite uncle is visiting.
Uncle Aarno slows the boat down by the dock and tosses me a rope to tie it off.
Hiya, Uncle Aarno, I call.
Got some mail for you sweetheart, he says, and hands me a small packet of letters.
Think up any new ways to die? I ask him.
I’d say there is a pretty good chance your father might shoot me, he says in a wry voice.
Why would he do that?
Because he helped me, a familiar voice says and there is my handsome oldest brother, Matti, grinning in the cabin doorway with a girl next to him. It must be Mary O’Casey, but my eyes can’t get past her big belly to look at her face. Matti is taller than ever and he’s wearing nice clothes, store-boughten from the looks of them, and Mary’s got on a real fine dress, not gunnysack like Mamma’s.
Aren’t you going to say anything, May Amelia? Matti finally asks.
Pappa’s gonna kill You, I say.
He laughs.
Honest, I say. You show up and t
here are shotguns lying around and there’s no telling what’s gonna happen!
It’ll be fine, Matti says. How’ve you been, May Amelia?
Baby Amy died, I say.
I know, May Amelia. Auntie Alice wrote me. She said you took it very hard. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you.
And maybe because he’s my big brother Matti, the one I’ve always been able to count on, it seems all right to say what’s in my heart.
It was terrible, I whisper. The most terrible thing ever.
Oh my little May, he says, and I just throw myself into his arms before the tears hit my cheeks. I bury my face in his strong warm chest.
I’ve missed you so, Matti, I say, my voice muffled.
I missed you, too, my only May Amelia, he says.
Uncle Aarno insists on walking with us to the house.
Just In Case, he says and I say, Just In Case You Gotta Bury Matti?
I never did know Mary O’Casey very well but she seems sweet and kind with her apple cheeks and brown eyes and thick black hair pinned back under her fancy hat. And then of course there’s her belly, which is like a firm little sack of potatoes.
There was a real good turnout, I tell her. Everybody brought plenty of food.
For what? she asks.
Your funeral, of course. Everyone thought you drowned in the river.
Her face turns white.
They looked for your body for days. And your mamma cried and cried. She fainted too.
Matti! Mary says anxiously. What are we going to do?
He puts an arm around her waist, and smiles. Everything’ll be fine, Mary. You’ll see.
You’ve forgotten what Pappa’s like, I say.
Matti straightens his back and turns to Mary and says, You wait outside for a moment until I fetch you.
I can tell that she is only too happy to put off greeting her new family.
The boys have come in from the fields and are sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee with Pappa. Mamma’s making a pie crust, rolling out the dough with a pin.
Uncle Aarno clears his throat loudly and says, I brought you something from Astoria.
Matti steps through the door and Mamma’s rolling pin goes clattering to the floor.
Mamma! Matti says, crossing to her side and grabbing her before she tumbles over.
Oh, Matti, she says, and bursts into tears and clutches him to her.
The rest of the boys are frozen in place, unsure what to do. Everyone’s waiting to see what Pappa will say.
Pappa, Matti says.
Pappa’s staring at Matti like he’s seeing a ghost.
Matti? he says, his throat thick. Is it really you, son?
Yes, Pappa, Matti says.
Matti! Pappa says, and is across the room in two steps embracing Matti.
All we can do is stare as Pappa pats Matti on the back, tears running down his cheeks.
Pappa lets Matti loose and says, Let me look at you, son. Did they hurt you?
I’m fine, Pappa, Matti says with a little laugh.
Where’d those shanghaiers take you? Pappa asks. China? Japan?
That’s the thing, Pappa, Matti says clearing his throat. I wasn’t shanghaied. Not exactly.
Pappa frowns. Not shanghaied?
Matti raises a finger and opens the door and says, Come in, sweetheart.
Mary O’Casey, or I reckon she’s Mary Jackson now, steps into the kitchen.
Hello, Mr. Jackson, Mary says.
Pappa blanches.
Ain’t you supposed to be dead? Wendell asks Mary.
She looks real alive to me, Kaarlo says sarcastically.
Matti puts his arm around Mary and says, We got married.
Married? Pappa growls, and I can hear the storm coming but before the first lightning strikes, Matti says, You’re gonna be a grandfather, Pappa.
Grandfather?
Mary’s expecting, Matti explains, rubbing Mary’s belly.
We hadn’t noticed, Kaarlo says.
The cows are lowing outside and I think these are going to be the last sounds I hear before Pappa kills Matti. Instead, Pappa just sighs, and says I Sure Do Hope It’s A Boy.
The boys pester Matti with questions about San Francisco and Mamma pesters Mary with questions about how she’s feeling. The only one who doesn’t say a word is Kaarlo. He just stares at Matti through sullen eyes.
What happened to your hand, Ivan? Matti asks in shock.
Ivan just waves his stump and says, Oh, it’s in the back pasture.
Tell us about your job, Matti, Pappa says.
It’s real good money, Pappa, Matti says. I’ve already worked up to being manager for unloading the boats.
Pappa says, Humph, but I can tell he’s pleased.
I’m thinking of starting my own unloading business for boats coming from Finland and Sweden, Matti adds. The men trust me.
Maybe I can help you with that, Pappa says, and then tells Matti about investing in the Stanley Company.
How about that, Matti says, sitting back. Little old Nasel a port city?
We’re gonna be rich, Matti! I say.
How long will you be in town? Pappa asks.
Least a week, Matti says.
Pappa nods. Plenty of time to talk about this. I’m real proud of you, Matti.
Kaarlo grimaces and says, I got to check on the cows, and bangs back his chair and is out the door before anyone says anything.
Mamma can’t stop smiling. She keeps saying that her whole loving family is back under one roof. And Matti and Pappa spend every waking moment together. They walk around the farm, heads bent talking about starting businesses. I haven’t seen Pappa so happy in a long time and he even takes Matti to the sauna on Saturday night.
It’s like the King himself has returned, Kaarlo grumbles.
But it’s Matti, I say.
Matti! Matti! I’m sick of it!
You’re just jealous.
Jealous? he scoffs.
Truth is, I reckon we’re all a little bit jealous of Matti, even me. Pappa has never paid much mind to any of the other boys. It’s always been Matti for as long as I can remember and it would bother me except I love Matti so very much. Still I am starting to see Kaarlo with different eyes. He works hard day in and day out and yet it is Matti who gets kind words and praise.
But if all the boys are jealous of Matti, every last one of them is a little in love with Mary. She is cheerful and helps Mamma and me in the kitchen. The boys don’t tussle as much with her around and they’re a lot cleaner for some reason. Maybe having a pretty girl in a house makes boys behave better.
Matti and Mary visited her parents right after they came to our house. Her folks were overjoyed to learn she wasn’t dead, but they weren’t overjoyed about Matti.
Are your folks mad at you? I ask my new sister-in-law.
Very, Mary says. But they’re happy about the baby.
Are you happy about that baby?
I didn’t think it would happen so fast, she admits.
I’m not surprised, I say.
Why? she asks.
Because Mamma always says that Babies and Bad News come when they’re least expected.
There is still hay to be brought in, so every child gets back to work, including Matti, because he is a Jackson boy.
We are out in the fields pitching the hay into the back of the wagon.
Matti touches the hay with his hand and says, It’s too wet. Let it lie.
Kaarlo says, It’s dry enough.
I’m telling you, it’s not, Matti says.
Don’t you tell me what to do, Kaarlo snarls.
What’s the matter with you? Matti asks, confusion plain on his face.
You ain’t in charge no more.
What? Matti says, and this seems to enrage Kaarlo.
When you left, you lost your right to tell anyone else what to do! Kaarlo shouts. Do you know how hard we’ve had to work? Poor Ivan here lost his hand because we needed more money and all yo
u can talk about is how Wonderful your life is. Well, our life hasn’t been wonderful. It’s been downright Hard, and I’m not gonna listen to you telling me what to do when I’ve been the one bleeding for this farm.
The boys and me just stare at Kaarlo. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him talk this much in my whole life.
Matti says, You ain’t even a real Jackson.
Kaarlo flings down his pitchfork.
Make Hay King Matti, he snorts, and stomps off.
How could you say that, Matti? I ask him.
My big brother looks a little ashamed. Sorry, May Amelia. I’ll find him and apologize.
* * *
The night before Matti and Mary return to San Francisco, Mary’s parents throw a party at their house to celebrate their daughter’s marriage to Matti. Kaarlo refuses to come.
There will be lots of good food, I tell him, but he says, I’d rather clean the outhouse than go there.
Folks shower the happy couple with presents. Pappa uses the last of the money from Mr. Yerrington to buy a grand wedding gift for the new couple—a new suit for Matti.
You got to look right for business, Pappa says.
Thanks, Pappa, Matti says.
I’m making a cradle for the babe, Pappa tells Mary, and she blushes prettily.
The next morning, Uncle Aarno comes and fetches Matti and Mary in his boat. Matti hugs everyone goodbye except for Kaarlo, who’s nowhere to be found.
May Amelia, Matti says to me. If you ever need me, all you have to do is write and I’ll come home. I promise.
I know, Matti, I say.
When I get back to the house, I find Kaarlo sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee.
He’s gone, I tell him.
Good riddance, Kaarlo says.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I Take My Lumps
It is September, and the evenings are cool. Supper’s over and the dishes are washed. We are setting in the parlor in front of the fire. Mamma is piecing together a quilt and I am knitting socks. Pappa is standing by the mantel fingering his lump of lead. There is a real smile on his face. I think it’s maybe only the second time I’ve ever seen him smile. He is smiling because he received a letter from Mr. Yerrington saying that we will be able to cash in the stock sometime after Christmas.
The lead was right after all, Pappa says, looking at Mamma. Our ship has finally sailed.
The Trouble with May Amelia Page 9