Chapter 15
An Eventful Day in Town
The next day it rained, and the day after that, and the day after that. It hardly stopped long enough for us to go outside for ten minutes without it starting up all over again.
We all got pretty bored and restless.
I especially noticed it in Pa. He couldn’t go out and mine or work much outside, and I suppose he’d about had it with the company of a cabin full of kids. Every once in a while he’d question me again about the three riders we saw, and always afterwards he’d get real quiet and thoughtful, almost sulky.
As the hours of the dreary days passed, he grew more and more sullen and short-tempered. By afternoon on the third day of rain, he was hardly saying a word—not that he ever said much, but now he was downright glum. The rain finally stopped, but it was still dark and gloomy with heavy clouds overhead. I was starting supper when all of a sudden Pa, who had been sitting hunched up in front of the fire, suddenly hitched himself to his feet and half muttered something like, “Well, I’m a fool, but I gotta know if he’s hanging around . . . and my fingers are itching for some action, anyway. . . .”
He strode to the door, taking a minute to put on his gun belt and pull his coat over his shoulders. In the doorway, he spoke almost as if it were an afterthought. “I’m going to town,” he said matter-of-factly.
I just stood there, not knowing how to respond, as usual.
“For how long?” I finally asked.
“No telling.”
“What about us?” I said.
“Do what you like,” he answered. “You’re welcome to come along if you want.”
“We’re needing some things,” I suggested.
“Suit yourself,” he replied, still not looking up.
I watched him another minute, but realized he’d said all he was about to say. So I turned and called inside to the kids. “Come on, you all!” I yelled. “On with them coats. We’re going to town!”
“Ya-hoo!” shrieked Zack and Tad.
While the kids were getting themselves ready, I grabbed some bread and apples for us to eat on the way. I didn’t want to keep Pa waiting. But when I ran outside to tell him we’d all be going with him, he’d gone up the creek to check something at the mine, so I figured we weren’t in such an all-fire hurry after all. Besides, the wagon and team still needed hitching up.
About half an hour later, we all piled in the back of our wagon. Zack sat up front and handled our two horses, while Pa rode along on his bay. We made a jolly crew, laughing and talking, and I could almost imagine that everything was going to work out fine for us in our new home. But Pa didn’t enter much into our jovial spirits. He just sat there silently on his horse and plodded along behind us.
It was getting well on toward evening when we finally arrived in Miracle Springs. Pa took us to Mrs. Gianini’s, with a stern reminder that we weren’t to call him anything but Mr. Drum, and he ordered us some supper. He didn’t eat with us. He said he’d be back later and left. I thought about going to see if Mrs. Parrish was back from her trip, but it was pretty late by the time we finished eating. In fact it was too late to do much of anything. I wondered why I had wanted all of us to go along in the first place.
Sitting around in Mrs. Gianini’s boarding house, we played a few games of checkers and she showed us some travel books. But pretty soon Tad started to nod off. I kept glancing toward the door wondering when Pa was going to come back. When Becky and Emily started to doze, Mrs. Gianini clicked her tongue disapprovingly, and shot a glance first at her clock and then at the door. Finally, she rose and told us to come upstairs where she had made up some beds for us.
Next morning we were all up at first light. I helped the kids get dressed, and brushed Emily and Becky’s hair, and then we went downstairs. There was still no sign of Pa. We found Mrs. Gianini singing to herself in the kitchen.
“Ah, did the bambinos sleep well?” she asked when we walked in, giving Becky’s pudgy little cheek a soft pinch.
“Yes, Miz Geeneene,” said Becky. The plump woman laughed heartily.
“Where’s our—where’s Mr. Drum?” I asked, glancing around the room, still seeing no evidence of his return.
Mrs. Gianini clicked her tongue in the same way she had last night. Her thick jowls shook in a comical way.
“Your-a uncle’s partner . . . he no come-a back,” she said in her heavy accent.
“Did he—leave word about what w-we were to do?” I stammered.
“Santa cielo!” she exclaimed. I didn’t understand any Italian, but from the expression on the lady’s face, her answer didn’t seem too hopeful. “You poor little bambinos. When I get-a my hands on that Drum, or that Nicolas Matthews for getting himself into trouble, with you coming—!” Rather than finish her sentence, she just waved her arms above her head in frustration.
Breakfast didn’t taste nearly so good as last night’s supper, though that was not the fault of Mrs. Gianini’s cooking. We kids started at every sound outside, looking up expecting to see Pa. It was like that first day we came to Miracle, only now it was even worse, because things had started to look promising. We cleaned our plates, then went outside.
“Where’s Pa?” asked Tad.
“I don’t know, Taddy,” I answered.
“You know as well as I do he’s down at that drinkin’ house,” said Zack. And he was all for marching right down there and walking in on him. But I couldn’t quite bring myself to agree to it. Even if I was a little angry that he had gone off and left us without so much as a word, I didn’t want to hound him so much that he’d start to hate us. Besides that, it still didn’t seem quite proper.
I was anxious to see Mrs. Parrish. When I suggested we go to her place, everyone cheered—everyone except Zack. He just followed behind sullenly.
Emily, Becky, and Tad ran right for the livery where Pa had left the rig. They were anxious to see Jinx and Snowball. Zack said hello to Mrs. Parrish, then ambled off aimlessly down the street. I hoped he didn’t plan on looking for Pa.
“Well, Corrie!” said Mrs. Parrish with a friendly smile. “How are you?” She took my hands and looked me over. “You seem a bit pale. Are you eating well? Is your father—”
“Oh, our Pa’s taking real good care of us, Ma’am,” I answered quickly. But Mrs. Parrish could tell I wasn’t saying everything there was to tell.
“Come and sit down,” she said in her gentle voice.
She led me into the Freight Office and sat in a big leather-covered chair by her oak desk. “I’ve got some water boiling,” she said. “I’ll fix us some tea.”
She went about getting cups and saucers, sugar, cream, and a little plate of cookies, while she continued to talk. “How have you all been adjusting—if you don’t mind my asking. It must be quite a change. I’ve thought about you and prayed for you often, and wanted to visit—”
“Oh, I know you’re an awful busy lady, Mrs. Parrish.”
“It wasn’t that at all. I’ve been back in town several days now, but I thought it was best to leave you all to yourselves for a while. I didn’t want to appear the meddler.”
“We would never have thought that, Ma’am.”
“You might not have, but such a thought might well have come into your father’s mind. It’s nice that you all came into town together.”
I looked down at my lap. I didn’t think I was going to cry, but I wasn’t going to take any chances. I felt about for my handkerchief just in case.
“What’s wrong, Corrie?”
I didn’t say anything for a moment or two. “I just don’t understand,” I finally blurted out, even though I hadn’t wanted to say anything. “Things were going so well, it seemed. I really thought he didn’t mind too much our being there.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know, maybe nothin’. I just don’t know where Pa is, that’s all.”
“Doesn’t sound to me as if that’s quite all.”
“Well,” I fumbled, pla
ying with my handkerchief and hoping I didn’t have to use it, “I don’t want to speak ill of Pa. He’s trying real hard. But this does take a lot of gettin’ used to, I reckon. It’s just that I thought when we all came to town we’d be together. I didn’t figure on him runnin’ out on us. But now it seems he’s gone just like before. I don’t know what to think.”
“When did he go?”
“He got us supper at Mrs. Gianini’s last night, then left. He didn’t even have any supper himself.”
“And he left no word?”
I shook my head.
“Why that—!” Her voice rose and her eyes flared, but then she seemed to think better of herself and went on in a milder tone. “I’m sure there must be an innocent explanation. Some business probably has detained him.”
I nodded. That’s what I had thought first, too. At least that’s what I’d hoped. But somehow I think we both knew we were “buildin’ castles in the sky,” as Ma used to say.
“But I almost forgot! I have some exciting news,” said Mrs. Parrish in a light tone. I could tell she was trying to cheer me up, but I didn’t mind. “Two days ago I received a letter from back East in response to an inquiry I had made. I wrote to the pastor of the church I had attended in Boston, asking if he knew any ministers who might feel the call to come west. Miracle is still a pretty wild and woolly place, but I don’t think it need always be that way. When the mining plays itself out, this could well become a respectable town—with a school and a church, and lots of nice people putting down their roots. More and more families are coming to California. We need to grow, and our towns and western ways need to mature to accommodate civilization.”
I could tell from her voice that she was excited, that this all meant a lot to her.
“That sounds real nice, Mrs. Parrish,” I said.
“And now it looks like we are well on our way toward that goal! A preacher is coming to Miracle. According to this letter, he ought to arrive in a few weeks.”
“But how’s he going to cross the Sierras so late in the season?”
“He’s coming by the Panama route. I’ll meet his ship in San Francisco. Isn’t it wonderful, Corrie? We will have our very own church!”
“Is the town going to build a church?” I asked.
“We don’t need a building to have a church. The early Christians often met in one another’s homes.”
“Don’t seem like even your house would be big enough.”
Mrs. Parrish smiled, then gave a little chuckle.
“Oh, to have the faith of children!” she said. “Or, young ladies, I should say! But perhaps you are right, Corrie. We may just have a big turnout, if only for curiosity’s sake. I will have to give all of this more thought.”
“Does seem that a town with five saloons ought to have at least one church,” I said.
“Truly spoken, Corrie,” she replied. “And I believe in time it will. But until then . . . you have given me an idea.”
She tapped her finger thoughtfully against her lips. “I wonder what the new preacher would think. . . .”
If Mrs. Parrish’s intention had been to make me forget my troubles with Pa, it almost worked. I found myself caught up in her enthusiasm. It was so nice the way she treated me, as if I were a lady just like her. I wasn’t even close to being a lady, but I couldn’t hide my pleasure at how nice she was to me. I never had anybody talk to me quite like that.
But our nice conversation ended suddenly.
The office door burst open, and Becky, her face red from running hard, burst in jabbering excitedly.
“They’re gone! They’re gone! A man took ’em, and Emily’s cryin’, and nobody can stop her!”
Chapter 16
The Horses
It took a minute to get Becky calmed down, and even at that we still couldn’t understand what she was trying to say. Finally Mrs. Parrish led her outside by the hand. By that time Becky began tugging at her arm, leading us to the livery stable behind the office.
There we found Emily perched on a bale of hay with Marcus Weber seated beside her. His big, black muscular arm was wrapped around her sobbing frame. He looked up, both helpless and relieved at our arrival.
“What happened, Marcus?” asked Mrs. Parrish.
“I ’spose I shoulda come fo’ you, Miz Parrish,” said the gentle Negro, “but you’s allas sayin’ fo me to take charge o’ the stable, an’ . . . well, it all seemed legal-like, an’ that there feller was wearin’ a gun, an’—”
“What man, Marcus?” interrupted Mrs. Parrish, patiently but firmly. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
“He took Snowball!” shrieked Emily beside him, and then burst into a new fit of crying.
“The hosses, ma’am. The feller done took the chil’en’s hosses.”
“What man, Marcus?”
“I don’ know, Ma’am. This here feller, he done had a bill o’ sale signed real official like—signed by Mr. Drum hisself. So the man, he jest took off with the hosses an’ now this here young’un’s jest about to break her po’ li’l heart! I guess it’s all my fault.”
I hurried over to sit on the other side of Emily to try to calm her, while Mrs. Parrish did her best to comfort the miserable blacksmith.
“It is not your fault, Marcus,” said Mrs. Parrish. “This man, did he say Mr. . . . er—Mr. Drum sold him the horses?”
“Yes’m.”
Mrs. Parrish was about to say something. But all at once she stopped, her mouth hanging half open, staring straight ahead.
I turned my head around and followed her gaze. There in the doorway of the livery stood Pa, with Tad and Zack behind him.
I had almost forgotten about Tad. I guess when the commotion started he must have run off after Zack, and somehow the two of them met up with Pa. Anyway, there he was.
All of a sudden, I guess something inside me just kind of popped, because I jumped up off that hay bale and ran over to him.
“How could you?” I cried.
He looked back at me with genuine shock at my reaction. “They was just horses,” he said.
“Just horses!” I said. “They were our . . . our pets . . . they’d come all the way with us! Snowball was Emily’s special friend!”
My voice was shaking, all the frustration I’d been feeling coming out all at once. I’d never before in my life spoken to an adult like that. “You had no right!” I yelled.
“I was up against a wall,” he replied, still bewildered at all the stir he’d caused. “I needed some quick capital.”
Mrs. Parrish turned to Marcus Weber. “Marcus, will you please excuse us?” He quietly left the stable. When he was gone, Mrs. Parrish turned her glare right on Pa.
“Did you gamble those horses away, Mr. . . . ah . . . Mr. Drum?” she asked angrily.
“Things just got out of hand.”
“You could have had Ma’s money!” I cried. Tears of anger and anguish were streaming down my face. I had tried so hard since the beginning to see things Pa’s way and to stick up for him. But now I felt he had betrayed us. “I was going to give you that money!” I said again. “But why the horses?”
“I don’t take money from kids!” he shot back, his voice rising. I couldn’t tell if he was angry or just frustrated.
“But you would sell their horses, Mr. Drum? Not only their pets and friends, but the only link they still possess to a past that has been torn away from them—a past full of a great deal of pain at your hand!” she added, glaring at him as she spoke.
“Oh, for criminy sakes! You’re makin’ me out to be some kind of thief!” retorted Pa. “’Sides, it ain’t none of your affair, Miz Parrish. We’re kin, an’ kinfolk stick together, ain’t that right, kids?”
None of us said anything. I don’t guess we were feeling too much kinship right then.
“Someone has to look after the interests of these children!”
Still she scowled at him, but he just glared right back. For an instant I thought he might strike her, he lo
oked so mad. But finally he just let out a sharp breath.
“What’s done is done,” he said finally, in a tight, strained voice.
A stifled sob from Emily made us all painfully aware that Pa was right—the horses were gone. It was done, and it wasn’t going to be so easily resolved. All our eyes turned momentarily toward her.
“Ain’t a one of you thinkin’ about me and the tight spot I was in,” said Pa. “Listen here—if I hadn’t come up with them horses, I might’ve taken a couple of slugs. I had no choice.”
“That doesn’t make it right,” I said, sinking helplessly back on the bale next to Emily.
Pa looked around at all of us. “Since when is a man answerable to a bunch of kids and a busybody woman that’s got nothin’ to do with his affairs? If you don’t like the way I do things, just remember it wasn’t me that asked you to hitch up with me. I told you from the beginnin’ it wouldn’t work!” He spun around and strode out of the stable.
Mrs. Parrish ran right out after him. I had never seen a bolder woman, nor a braver one. I figured my pa’d been pushed just about as far as any man was likely to go.
By the time she caught up with him he had rounded a corner and I couldn’t see them. But their voices came through the wide-open stable doors as clear as gunfire through cold, night air.
“You are not leaving those children again!” said Mrs. Parrish, and it wasn’t a question but an order.
“Since when is it your business to tell me what to do?” shot back Pa angrily.
“You have a responsibility.”
“So do you, lady, and it ain’t pokin’ your nose into my life!”
“Now look here, Mr.—”
“Now you listen, Mrs. Parrish,” interrupted Pa, and his voice was cool, almost calm—but not like the calm of a spring day, more like the dead quiet before a thunderstorm. “You may run half this town,” he said, “but you don’t run me! I’ll do as suits me best, and I’ll thank you to mind your own affairs!”
“And what about the children?” Mrs. Parrish was just about as cool. I knew if I could have seen her as she spoke she wouldn’t be flinching a muscle.
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