Looking for Home

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Looking for Home Page 3

by Arleta Richardson


  “I know what I want when I see it,” Eugenia replied firmly. “And I want that boy.”

  Patterson shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it. “I propose that we have a quiet dinner before we continue this discussion. I need time to digest what I’ve already heard.”

  Eugenia knew by the set of his chin that this would be the final word on the matter until he brought it up again, so she settled into her corner of the car to plan her next move. This might be more difficult than she had envisioned. Patterson could be quite determined when he chose to be.

  By the time Eugenia joined her husband on the veranda that afternoon, she was confident that her arguments were sensible and well thought out. She was prepared to answer any objections he might bring forth. She relaxed in her cushioned rocker and bent her head demurely over her embroidery, the picture of patience.

  After a lengthy silence, Patterson spoke. “Now, suppose you tell me your reasons for wishing to bring a child into the house at this time?”

  It wasn’t the way she had expected the conversation to begin. Eugenia hadn’t explored that aspect of the situation. There was no reason. She simply had been taken by the handsome little boy and wanted him for her own. But caution told her that this explanation wouldn’t satisfy her husband. Perhaps, she admitted to herself, she was bored and needed a new interest in life. She probably wouldn’t do well to divulge that information either. What reason would sound logical enough to bring Patterson around to her way of thinking?

  “Well?”

  “Why, any child has a better chance in life in a home with two parents than in an institution, don’t you think? And especially a home that can offer him the advantages we could afford.” Eugenia warmed to her subject and hastened on. “The upper floor could be turned into a nursery and schoolroom. I will find a competent woman to take care of him, and he will be a lot of company for us.”

  “I wasn’t aware that you felt the need for more company, my dear. I’ve been on the board of trustees at the Home for ten years, and you’ve never expressed an interest in taking one of those children into your care. On the contrary, you’ve avoided any contact with them. Isn’t that so?”

  Eugenia felt the color rise in her cheeks. “Well, yes. But they are quite common children. One can’t just pick a child off the streets and …” She was backed into a corner, at a loss to explain why this child had taken her fancy or why she felt that she must have him. But Eugenia Quincy was not one to give up without a fight. If this approach didn’t work, she would try another.

  “I believe we had better give the subject more thought,” Patterson said. “Before one takes on the responsibility of a child, there must be compelling reasons for doing so.”

  Eugenia said no more, but she was fully committed to pursuing the matter on her own. Let her husband do the thinking. She would act.

  Chapter Five

  Ethan Learns the Rules

  “Come on, Ethan. Can’t you move any faster?” Bert’s freckled face was anxious as he watched Ethan tying his shoes. “I can hear everyone in the dining room. Hurry! You can make your bed later.”

  The boys raced down the big staircase and slipped into their seats just as Matron bowed her head to pray. It had taken Ethan a few days to realize that no one ate the good food at mealtime until someone thanked the Lord for it. He wondered why they thanked God when they worked so hard to grow it.

  “I don’t know,” Bert said when Ethan mentioned it. “Maybe because God makes it rain. I guess we can’t do that.”

  Bert had undertaken the job of teaching Ethan the fine art of weeding the garden. “You have to turn the hoe over. You can’t cut anything with that side. Ain’t you never used a hoe before?”

  Ethan admitted that he had not. The few things grown on the Cooper land were weeded by hand. Neither had he fed animals or picked fruit. But now he was being introduced to farm life, and he found that he liked it.

  The two rows assigned to them looked long. Ethan surveyed them carefully. “Maybe we can do some weeding now and then finish after we play ball,” he suggested.

  Bert shook his head. “Nope. That won’t work. Mr. Lehman or Otis will check to see what we did. Otis runs the farm, and he knows what everyone is doing. We have to finish our jobs first. That’s a rule.”

  Ethan hadn’t lived by that kind of rule before. He did what Pa ordered him to do when he couldn’t stay out of Pa’s way. Sometimes he was punished whether he obeyed or not. As he chopped weeds now, he remembered the stinging blows on his legs from Pa’s strap when he didn’t hurry back from town fast enough with Pa’s beer. Ethan hadn’t seen anyone strapped here.

  A sudden shriek from the direction of the barnyard caused Ethan to drop his hoe and run. “That was Simon!” he yelled.

  By the time Ethan reached the fence, Otis had the little boy in his arms. In the pen, a hog was pushing his huge snout against the wire.

  Simon sobbed loudly. “He bit me! He bit me!”

  “He didn’t bite you, kid.” Otis soothed him. “He thought you had something in your hand to feed him, and he put out his tongue.” Otis set Simon back on the ground. “If I was you, I wouldn’t try giving chicken feed to the hog anymore. He probably thought your hand was part of the bargain.”

  Simon clung to Ethan for a moment and then rubbed his wet face with grimy hands.

  “He’s too big for you to feed, Simon,” Ethan told him. “Stick with the chickens. When you get through, come over where I am, and I’ll let you help me weed.”

  “I never had no brother,” Bert said as he and Ethan went back to work. “Did you always take care of yours?”

  “Yep. I’m pretty good at it too,” Ethan boasted. “Ma always had a baby to take care of, so she depended on me. I’ll look after them until they grow up, I guess.”

  For the first time in his life, Ethan wasn’t required to keep a watchful eye on the younger children. The habit was hard to break, however. Ethan never ate a meal without checking to see that Alice and Will and Simon were in their places.

  One morning Matron Daly stopped Ethan as he left the dining room. “Ethan, you didn’t make your bed again this morning.”

  “Oh, I forgot. I meant to go back and do it.”

  “That happens too often,” Matron said sternly. “You can’t go out with the others until it’s done. Go to your room and take care of the bed, and then wait there until I come up to inspect it.”

  Ethan trudged up the stairs and into the big, empty bedroom. There was no reason he couldn’t just straighten his bed at night before he got back in it. Ma had never been fussy about making beds.

  Slowly he patted the covers in place and then sat on the end of his cot to wait for Matron. He could hear the boys playing under the window and knew they had chosen sides without him. He sighed loudly.

  Across the room the beds belonging to the older boys were neatly made and in straight rows, he noticed. He hadn’t had anything to do with the big boys except to watch them from afar, but he knew each of them by name. Riley always spoke kindly to him, and his bed was directly across from Ethan’s. The next bed belonged to Hugh.

  Something on the floor between the beds caught Ethan’s eye, and he got up to investigate. It was a picture. He sat on Riley’s bed and studied it. The face that gazed back at him was beautiful. Soft hair and smiling eyes made Ethan think of Ma, and suddenly he was overcome with homesickness.

  Before he could put the picture down, a big kid grabbed the back of his collar. “Hey! What’re you doing on my bed?”

  Ethan looked into the face of Riley Walter. “N-nothin’,” Ethan stuttered.

  But Riley wasn’t listening. His angry glance had gone to the picture in Ethan’s hand. “Where did you get that? Have you been in my cupboard?”

  Ethan shook his head. “It was on the floor.”

  “It didn’t get on the floor by itself,” Riley
insisted. “I’ve found my cupboard open before, but I never caught anyone at it.” He shook Ethan by the shirt. “Don’t you know better than to get into other people’s things?”

  Ethan nodded wordlessly.

  “What else you got that doesn’t belong to you?” Riley demanded. “Stand up here and let me look.” Quickly he examined one of Ethan’s pockets and pulled out the watchcase. “Where’d you get this from?”

  “It’s mine. I found it in the field at home,” Ethan replied in a small voice.

  “Sure you did, kid. You never found no watch in a field.” Riley snapped open the lid and looked at the picture. His face softened. “Who’s this? Your ma?”

  Ethan nodded again.

  “Well, I believe that all right. But I’m not sure you didn’t pick up this watchcase from someone. Here—you take the picture, and I’ll just hold on to the case until I find out who lost it. What else you got in your pockets?” Riley poked his hand into Ethan’s other pocket and came up with the nickel that the motorman had returned to Ethan.

  “Don’t tell me you found this in the field too? How come a kid your age has this much money?” Riley eyed the younger boy with suspicion. “Maybe I better talk to Mr. Lehman about you. We don’t go for this kind of stuff around here.”

  Ethan’s lip quivered. What if Mr. Lehman sent him away? “I didn’t steal it, honest.” He gulped. “But you can have it if you want.”

  Riley dropped Ethan’s arm. “Naw, I won’t keep it. But I’m going to check around. You better not have stolen it or you’re in big trouble. Now after this, you stay out of my cupboard, hear?”

  Ethan blushed, and Riley disappeared down the stairway after tucking the watchcase into his overalls. Swiping a tear, Ethan pushed Ma’s picture into the far corner of his cupboard and sat down once more to wait for Matron. Riley would never trust him after this, and Ethan hadn’t even done anything wrong. It wasn’t fair. Riley had probably pulled the picture out himself and hadn’t notice it fall to the ground. But it wouldn’t do to tell anyone about it, Ethan knew. He would simply have to keep out of Riley’s way.

  Matron Daly entered the room and smiled as she checked the bed. “That’s more like it. The Lord is pleased with us when we do our work well.”

  “You mean the Lord cares how I made my bed?” Ethan was doubtful.

  “Of course. The Bible says we should do everything as unto the Lord. That means keeping things neat. Come on down to the laundry with me and bring the boys’ clothes back up here. Then you can go out and play.”

  Ethan followed Matron downstairs and waited patiently as she loaded his arms with clean shirts and underwear. As he trudged back up to the big room, he determined that he wouldn’t leave his bed unmade in the future. He was wasting valuable time that could be spent outdoors.

  As he neared the room, Ethan heard a cupboard door open and shut. He stopped in the hallway and listened. Another click convinced him that someone was in the bedroom. Everyone was supposed to be outside. Who could it be? Ethan peered cautiously through the doorway.

  Hugh. Ethan didn’t know much about him, but he did know that Hugh was a bully. He often threatened the younger boys and made them take over some of his chores. So far Ethan had managed to avoid him. He certainly didn’t want Hugh to see him now. Quickly he dropped the clothes on the nearest bed and ran to the stairway.

  “What took you so long?” Bert asked when Ethan arrived at the field where the boys were playing. “We need another guy on our side.”

  As the game went on, Ethan worried about what he had seen. Riley had been right. Someone was going through the cupboards. Ethan wondered whether he should report Hugh. If the other boy hadn’t seen him, he wouldn’t know who had told. Ethan decided to ask Bert for advice.

  “Would you tell Matron if you saw someone going through the cupboards?” Ethan said in a low voice.

  “Like who?”

  “Well, one of the bigger kids.”

  “Are you crazy?” Bert stared at Ethan. “Want to get your head cracked? Just pretend you don’t even see the big guys. It’s safer that way.”

  Ethan pondered the advice as he helped to clear the tables after supper. Maybe it was best to forget the whole thing. He didn’t want to be blamed for everything that was missing, though. Maybe he could pray about it. If the Lord was interested in how he made his bed, He might care about this, too. Ethan would remember this when he said his prayers at bedtime.

  As Ethan left the dining room, a rough hand pulled him into a corner.

  Hugh made a fist and glared at him. “You forget what you saw this morning and keep your mouth shut if you know what’s good for you,” the big boy snarled. “Bad things happen to kids who blab about stuff that don’t concern them. You understand?”

  Ethan swallowed hard and nodded.

  “You better. I can tell Mr. Lehman that I saw you going through our belongings. He’ll believe me, ’cause I’ve been here longer than you have.”

  Ethan felt sick. This was the second time today that he had been threatened with someone talking to Mr. Lehman about him. What would happen to the others if he were sent away? Ethan couldn’t risk it. He would keep quiet.

  “I’m not going to tell, honest.”

  “Good thing,” Hugh warned. “You know what’ll happen if you do.”

  For several days Ethan had a knot in his stomach. Whenever he saw Hugh staring at him, he would look away quickly and pretend not to notice.

  One afternoon Ethan was sitting on the steps waiting for Bert. Idly he watched Alice as she played dolls with the other girls.

  A voice startled him. “That redheaded one is your sister, isn’t she? I bet you wouldn’t want anything to happen to her.” It was Hugh.

  Ethan jumped up, fists clenched. “If you ever touch my sister, you … you’ll be sorry!” he shouted. As Hugh’s mouth dropped open in surprise, Ethan turned and raced toward the barn.

  Chapter Six

  Eugenia Visits the Briars

  Eugenia Quincy studied her reflection in the hall mirror and pronounced it good. She needed to look her best this morning to accomplish the task before her. Satisfied that there was no visible flaw in her appearance, she opened the big front door of her home.

  “I’m leaving, Greta,” she called to the housekeeper. “I may not be home for lunch, so don’t prepare anything.”

  Stepping carefully into the limousine, Eugenia leaned back against the soft cushions and took a deep breath. If all went according to plan, she would lunch with Patterson and divulge her good news. There was no reason to think that her plan wouldn’t succeed. She had never failed yet.

  “I want to go out to the Briars, Gridley,” she said. “And I’d like you to wait for me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The driver didn’t so much as twitch an eyebrow to indicate surprise at the destination. Surely he was well aware of Mrs. Quincy’s aversion to the orphanage, but it wasn’t his place to speculate on the reason for this trip.

  As the car purred toward the edge of town, Eugenia reviewed the strategy she had planned. Although she wasn’t well acquainted with the director of the home, Mr. Lehman had always treated her with courtesy and deference. There would surely be no difficulty in persuading him to agree with her point of view. If necessary she could mention that Patterson … that Patterson what?

  She could hardly say that she had come with her husband’s blessing, since Patterson knew nothing about her visit and almost certainly wouldn’t have blessed it if he had. Oh well. Once he had gotten used to the idea, Patterson would go along with her decision.

  The big car drew up before the archway at the Briars, and Gridley opened the door for Eugenia. With a shudder, she peered up at the sign proclaiming Briarlane Christian Children’s Home and then walked briskly toward the door. She would have much preferred that Mr. Lehman come to her as her dressmaker did, but she was forced to
admit that this was a somewhat different situation.

  The door was opened by a boy who appeared to be polishing the wood panels as his morning chore. Eugenia glanced at him and drew her skirts higher around her as she swept into the hallway.

  “Please tell Mr. Lehman that Mrs. Quincy desires to see him,” she announced.

  “Yes, ma’am.” The boy scurried off, leaving Eugenia standing by the door. She tapped her foot impatiently. She might at least have been offered a chair while she waited. This was an example of the kind of child that was sheltered here, she thought. Certainly no training in social graces. All the more reason her errand was an important one.

  To Eugenia’s gratification, Mr. Lehman himself came out to greet her. “Mrs. Quincy. What a pleasant surprise. Won’t you come in?”

  He ushered her into the shabby but comfortable office. A wall of books, a desk piled high with folders and papers, and several chairs completed the scene. He pulled the most comfortable seat toward the desk for his visitor.

  Eugenia scanned the room with barely concealed distaste. Was this where Patterson conducted the board meetings each month? Why in the world had he not done something about the appearance of the place?

  George Lehman’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “What can I do for you, Mrs. Quincy?”

  Eugenia turned her brightest smile in his direction. She might as well dispense with the small talk and proceed directly to the point. The place was depressing, and she had no desire to stay any longer than necessary.

  “I understand that you have recently taken in four new children,” she said.

  Mr. Lehman nodded. “Yes, the Cooper children.”

  “I want the youngest one.”

  George Lehman seemed unable to hide his astonishment. “I beg your pardon?”

  Why do men have to be so slow-witted? Eugenia thought irritably. He was acting just like Patterson. What was so hard to understand?

 

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