The Lilac Bush Is Blooming

by Jan Surasky

  Georgie’s head began to nod and a long-stifled yawn passed across his face as his head fell back against the pillow I had found to cushion him against the threadbare fake suede Mama had found as an end bolt to cover the seats with.

  In the quiet that followed, as we drove through the towns of central New York, the signs in front of their schools asking us to slow though it wasn’t a school day, the church spires rising above the storefronts and the auto shops, I began to muse about my own future. As we picked up speed on the open highway, the beautiful reds and rusts of the maples vying for my attention, the farmhouses, some set back and others perilously close to the road, with their hanging baskets of geraniums providing a flash of color as we went by, and their mums so neatly planted around their front stoops, I thought of what I might want to be. How I would spend my life.

  Carrie had been certain she wanted to study art and Will had known he wanted to be a vet. But, I had kept my nose in books ever since I could remember. Studying English was far from practical as I had heard from the rumors flying about Sadie Mathews from town who a number of years ago as the first in her family to go to college chose to study English at a small college in the east and returned without a job to spend the next twenty years in sales at the local hardware store. Nevertheless, I couldn’t think of anything else I wanted to do. I would find a way to talk to Mama about it.

  As Wells loomed up before us I nudged Georgie gently as I wheeled the old truck onto the campus to find a proper parking place. Georgie yawned and looked around.

  “Where will Carrie be?”

  “She’s at her dorm. It’s called Leach. She gave us the name when she called Mama.”

  Students were everywhere, crisscrossing the campus in twos and threes, all anxious to find something or chatting away or just musing, a far-away look in their eyes.

  It was easy to find Carrie’s dorm. Georgie asked everybody and they were all happy to point him in the right direction. As we neared the building, a structure once a very large house of beautiful brick, large long windows and a dormer attic, surrounded by a well-kept lawn and gardens, we spotted Carrie, her hand on her brow shading her eyes as she scoured the campus. Georgie broke into a run. Carrie caught him in a big hug as he landed on the portico.

  “Gee, Squirrel,” I gushed, stopped by the beauty of what was obviously the former home of a wealthy donor, “this place is beautiful.”

  “It is,” said Carrie, “but it’s not home.” Her eyes for a moment were wistful, their deep, rich brown misted over despite her resolve, as she held Georgie tight, looking for sure like she’d never let him go.

  “Do they have any frogs here?”

  “I’ve found some peepers. They’re hard to spot, but you can find them headed for the lake, sometimes in an evening.”

  As Georgie headed off to search for frogs along the expansive lawn, I sat with Carrie on one of the two lawn chairs available to students.

  “Do you like it here, Carrie?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, since it had been our custom since childhood never to pry.

  “I like my art classes. I like the professors. They’re very good at art and very patient. And, we only have about nine or ten in our classes.

  “But, I miss riding that roan at the Taylor farm, even though his friskiness made me lose my way so many times, I miss spending hours in Mr. Peterson’s store picking out just the right scarf, I miss Georgie pestering me to help him with his art project, and I miss Mama fussing over the hours we need to be back and telling us endlessly how to behave so we won’t be seen as trash. And, you, Annie May, I miss our hours of gossip, especially in the moments we found to slip out to Strawberry Hill.”

  I knew that admission was tough for Carrie as we weren’t a demonstrative family. I decided to make every moment of this visit count.

  “Do you hear from Jamie, Carrie?”

  “I do. He writes me almost every day. He’s so faithful. But, that just makes me miss him more.

  “He writes me about his classes and his professors. He’s a good student, Annie May. He wants to succeed because he feels his parents have sacrificed to send him to school.”

  “Will you invite him for Thanksgiving or Christmas?”

  “He has invited me for both or either. But, he understands how hard it is for me to spend the time with his family when I have always spent it with mine. I thought we might switch off for the holidays or invite his whole family to spend one of them with ours.”

  “Sounds like a good idea. Has he invited you for a Harvard weekend?”

  “He has, but I know he isn’t very social. He prefers to spend his time studying. He has big plans for himself after he graduates.”

  “Well, you can’t spend your time mooning over him or you won’t get your own work done.”

  “I know, Annie May. I don’t know what to do.”

  “How about if I drive you to Boston for a weekend? You can spend time with Jamie and help him study and I can check out the latest big-city fashions and report to Mama.”

  “Gosh, Annie May, would you do that?”

  “If Mama will part with the truck for a weekend.”

  “Thanks, Annie May. I can’t wait to write to Jamie.”

  As Carrie mulled over the idea, Georgie returned with two peepers and a full sized frog, all wriggling to be let go. “Can we let them off at the lake, Carrie?”

  “Of course, Georgie, I’m sure they’ll like that. It would probably take them all day to get there.”

  As we all three went down to the shore of Lake Cayuga, its waters as blue as its reputation, we took in the beautiful brick buildings that held the classrooms, the beautiful old homes that housed the students, and the campus grounds covered by majestic evergreens and deciduous trees of all kinds, their leaves vying for brilliance in the autumn show. I was sure Carrie was shielded from the real world here.

  Georgie let off his frogs as close to the water as he could get. We strolled back to the campus and lunch which Carrie had arranged.

  Georgie was a celebrity in the campus dining hall and Carrie’s friends fussed over him endlessly. We rushed as much as we could so we could squeeze in enough time to visit Will as well.

  As we headed for the parking lot, Georgie burst out with news of the book bag, a fact he had wanted to keep as a surprise. Carrie drew him to her in a big bear hug. “Oh, Georgie, I can hardly wait to see it.”

  He presented the book bag with as much fanfare as he could muster in a parking lot. Carrie was moved to tears and gushed over the beautiful hand tooling, the neat seamless sewing, and the quality of the leather. She kept it on her lap as we headed for Cornell and Georgie fell asleep on her shoulder.

  Carrie and I were silent on the half-hour trip to Cornell, partly to let Georgie sleep, partly because we were both lost in our own thoughts. College was a mixed bag for me. On the one hand, I was anxious to delve into studies that would keep me from the real world. On the other, the real world still had a strong hold on me.

  “We’re here,” I announced, as we pulled into the city of Ithaca, its narrow sidewalks and kitschy cafes and shops home to the city’s residents as well as the artsy students of Ithaca College and the swells of the thousands from Cornell. We drove up to the campus with difficulty, the steep hills working against the power of Mama’s truck.

  As we drove through college town, we took a deep breath. We had made it up the famous hills of Cornell. Georgie woke with a start.

  “When can we see Will?”

  “When we find the student union,” I volunteered, keeping my eyes open for a parking space among the tightly packed cars that lined the streets at the edge of the enormous campus. “It’s right next to the library. Will described it. We need to park the truck and start walking.”

  Georgie spotted a space in front of a large imposing building that had been set up on a hill above the roadway and we got out, immediately dwarfed by the large buildings above us. It was a long stretch to the student union with stops to ask directi
ons of the many students who crowded the sidewalks, their desire to help interrupted only by gales of laughter and Saturday afternoon horseplay.

  The student union was impressive, its gothic turn-of-the-century stone architecture a reminder of a more genteel era. Will was sitting in an armchair in the lobby, his nose in a book. Georgie ran straight for him, startling a student or two on the way.

  “Hey, Georgie, I think you’ve grown a foot since I’ve seen you.

  “Carrie, how’s Wells?”

  “Great. Keeping me busy.”

  “And, Annie May, it looks like you’ve added a few freckles.”

  I ignored Will’s teasing and made plans for Carrie and me to meet Will back here after he and Georgie toured the Ag campus and saw all the ancient farm equipment and the modern inventions the school had such a hand in that Will had written Uncle John about.

  Carrie and I spent the rest of the time in college town, Carrie with a cherry coke and me with my favorite malt that Danny Simpson, the soda fountain expert at Manning’s Drugs, made so well. Students came and went, their lively chatter a backdrop to the little café we found between the hamburger stands and pizza shops.

  “Gosh, Squirrel, I wouldn’t be able to find my way around this campus. But it seems to suit Will’s serious side. He has such a thirst for learning. Uncle John said he never saw a farmhand like Will.”

  “Will’s special, Annie May. He’s quiet. But, inside, it seems he’s always thinking.”

  “Now, I can’t decide what’s better. A big college or a small one like Wells.”

  “You’ll know when you start looking. The important thing is that they have the program you’re looking for. For you, Annie May, they better have a library with lots and lots of books. I’ve never seen anyone read as much as you along with all the chores we had.”

  “Reading took me away. It took me to so many other worlds. I want to take those kids in town to those worlds. I want to show them there are other worlds besides the world of constant struggle.”

  “Well, other worlds can be exciting. But, the townies have had some good times, too. The excitement of the county fair. The sidewalks to skip rope on and play hopscotch. The old barns that hold old cars now to throw a ball against. And, everyone in the village to answer to because they care.”

  “Answering to old Mrs. Collins was always a chore. She was on her front porch in a rocker whenever I passed through town, sitting with her knitting and scouring the passers-by with those sharp eagle eyes and forever correcting my posture. And, never letting me pass until I told her what I was studying in school.”

  “She didn’t favor bows or scarves and whenever she saw me she would lecture me on prim and proper dress.

  “But, Annie May, I want to bring beautiful scarves and belts and buckles to the world. I want to make every town brighter.”

  “I know you will, Carrie. When you finish studying art, this world better watch out. I’m sure Mama will open one of her catalogs one day and find a line of scarves right in there you designed.”

  I picked up the check the waitress had dropped on our table some time ago. “We’d better get back. The sun will be going down and Georgie’s probably asleep in one of those leather chairs in the student union.”

  As we walked back to the building the students called The Straight the sun began to set behind us. Its golden brilliance was majestic above the mauves and pinks, yellows and oranges that muted the twilit sky. The autumn leaves were all around us, crunching beneath our feet, and the haze of the nearby town so near beneath us.

  Will gave us a proper sendoff at the truck and promised Georgie he would keep the book bag which he deemed a real work of art forever. Georgie switched from chattering endlessly to falling asleep on Carrie’s shoulder. Carrie hugged Georgie and me as tight as I can remember as we left her at her dorm and as we headed home Georgie began counting the stars, dozing off when the numbers began to exceed his grasp. As we pulled into the old, familiar driveway rutted out all the way to the barn, scattering barn cats everywhere, Mama’s anxious silhouette was visible through the dimly lit kitchen windows, left open to the raw brisk chill of the autumn evening. I raced Georgie to the door, both of us giggling as we dropped on the faded yellow linoleum. I rose and headed for my room, snuggling under the beautiful white quilt with the hearts and roses that had kept me warm since childhood. My college plans would have to wait till morning.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The chill of the winter had worn off and the spring of 1955 was filled with sunshine and meadow daisies and the deep vibrant purple of the lilac blossoms behind the barn, their blooms ever faithful in the month of May.

  Georgie rose every morning to check the seed catalogs. He had been promoted from gofer and lackey with his own acre filled with the vegetables he chose to full partner over the whole farm, at least in choice of crops. He had been a good predictor with his own acreage and probably the most popular as the youngest in sales at both the Rochester and Syracuse markets the two previous seasons.

  The corn was already in and the soybeans were ready for planting. It was wheat and cabbage next and Georgie was mulling over the varieties. The Taylors regularly outgrew Uncle John in wheat and Georgie wanted to find a cabbage that would outshine the output of Phelps which was pretty well known as the cabbage capital of the state.

  “Hey, Georgie,” I said, as he ambled into my room on a lazy Sunday afternoon while Mama sewed a new skirt for Carrie and I tried to catch up on my homework after a long and busy day the day before selling the new spring line at Peterson’s dry goods to almost everybody in town. “How’s the cabbage search?”

  “Gosh, Annie May, I think I found a way to beat out Phelps. We can start a crop of early cabbage which almost no one else grows around here and we can beat them to market because they grow theirs to harvest late in time for the cabbage festival in fall.”

  “Great idea, Georgie. I bet Uncle John will be so proud of you for thinking it out.”

  “Well, I know he’ll like this cabbage. According to the catalogue it’s easy to grow, low maintenance, and a really great yield.”

  “It sounds like this is a good answer to the Phelps problem.”

  “I can hardly wait to tell Uncle John. I’ve been searching for weeks.”

  “Did you get the old tractor all greased up and running?”

  “Aw, yeah, Annie May, we did that weeks ago. Uncle John says I have a real knack for mechanics.”

  “Maybe you would like to be a mechanic when you finish school like Jasper Thomas. He can fix anything.”

  “I don’t want to fix things, Annie May. I want to grow things. You should see all the things they’re growing at Will’s school. They’re growing cabbages bigger than I’ve ever seen even in the catalogues. And, the peppers and tomatoes get nearly 60 to a plant.”

  “Papa always said you were a born farmer, Georgie. I guess he was right.”

  “I can’t wait to ride the tractor at planting time. The air’s so fresh, the sun’s just waiting to warm the seedlings, and the rains come down if you’re lucky to make them sprout. And, no one’s out there but the barn cats.

  “Of course fighting the insects is hard, but Uncle John has some good secrets for that. And, the wet and dry seasons. But, last year we had a good harvest and I sold everything in my acre.”

  At that Mama entered the room, her arms full of the new skirt she just finished for Carrie. “Are you still talking farming, Georgie? Your Papa always counted on you to help him run this farm when you got older. When you were no bigger than a cub he had plans on how he was going to talk old Taylor into parting with some of his acres and make a really big spread here. “Tyler Parker and Son” he was going to call it. Your Papa was a real dreamer…”

  Mama’s voice trailed off as it always did when she talked about Papa. I decided to pick up the slack. “Georgie, if you finish your homework, I’ll race you to the barn and we can see if Calico had her kittens yet. And, we can peek at the robin’s nest and see
if the eggs are hatched. And, if we make it to Strawberry Hill and the berries are ripe whoever picks the most gets to help Mama with a pie.”

  “Now, Annie May, I don’t know if I’ll have time to bake a pie today.”

  But, I knew Mama would do anything to please Georgie, especially since Carrie was gone and she tried to fill the gap. Georgie picked up his pace and set out for his room.

  “Annie May, have you heard from any colleges?”

  “Not yet, Mama, but I’m hoping for Syracuse. That way I can save money by living at home.”

  “Syracuse is a big school. Most of the students are from big cities. Are you sure you can handle it?”

  “I think so. They have writers from all over the world teaching there. I would get to study with some of the best.”

  “Well, I hope you get in. But, you can’t put all your eggs in one basket.”

  I know Mama was trying to keep me from disappointment since Carrie always got what she wanted being the pretty and popular one. But, I was determined not to give up.

  “I’ll try to remember that, Mama.” Nevertheless, I crossed my fingers behind my back hoping for some luck in the matter.

  Mama hung Carrie’s skirt in her closet. “Annie May, how about a taffy pull after supper? I think Georgie could use one. He’s kind of down on his grades.”

  “I think that would be fun, Mama,” I said, mentally figuring how I would finish the mountain of homework I had to postpone because of work. But, I didn’t want to disappoint Georgie. I knew how he missed Carrie and Will.

  “I’ve got peppermint and chocolate and I might have some strawberry.”

  “All of Carrie’s and Will’s favorites.”

  “Well, Will’s been keeping up with the latest in farming with Georgie. And, I know it has helped Uncle John as well.

  “And, I know how homesick Carrie must be even though she hardly lets on.”

  “Okay, I’ll package it up and send it out tomorrow. And, we might as well make some biscuits for Jester. Georgie never asks but I know he has a special pact with Will to keep Jester in dog treats.”