My Father's World

by Michael Phillips

  Pa and Uncle Nick looked at each other, but neither said anything.

  I didn’t speak either, but the wheels of my mind were turning just the same. Later that same evening, as we sat down to supper, I resolved to say something to Pa about my idea.

  We took our seats around the wooden table, then Pa reached out both his hands. Tad on his left took one, Emily on his right took the other, and the rest of us around the table joined hands in turn, including Uncle Nick where he sat between me and Zack. Since the day of the cave-in, Pa had tried once or twice to pray before a meal. I could tell it made everyone happy when he did it. No one would ever replace Ma. But holding hands and praying together like that, even if it wasn’t too often, sure did make us feel like we really were a family.

  “God, thank you for the good day you’ve given us,” Pa prayed. “And for health and blessings . . . and we ask you to provide what we need—and we thank you for this food—for the hands of the girls that worked to get it ready for us. Watch over us . . . protect us from harm at the hands of evil men . . . uh, amen.”

  Pa didn’t pray fancy. But I could tell he meant every word, and inside my heart I always prayed a little silent prayer of thanksgiving that he was making such an effort to be a good pa to us.

  About halfway through the fried potatoes, beans, and cornbread, I got up my courage. “Pa,” I said, “what would you think if I talked to Mr. Singleton about writing about the gold in our mine for his paper?”

  Everyone was silent, looking first at me, then to Pa.

  A thoughtful look came over Pa’s face as he sat motionless, his fork halfway to his mouth. Slowly, he turned in my direction.

  “My daughter, writing a newspaper story?” he said at last.

  “I’d like to try.”

  “What makes you think you could do it?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered. “Maybe I couldn’t. But I’ve been writing a lot in my journal, and working hard to make it sound better.”

  “Well,” he shrugged, finally taking a bite of cornbread and chewing it thoughtfully. “It’s okay by me, so long as you don’t write nothin’ about us. ’Course, it ain’t me you gotta convince, it’s that newsman Singleton.”

  “Oh, thank you, Pa!” I exclaimed. “I’ll talk to him on our next trip to town!”

  Chapter 39

  A Family Talk

  It felt good for all of us to be together after such a memorable day at the mine. But there were still questions and uncertainties to be dealt with.

  The next night, when we were all sitting around the fire, the subject came up again. Uncle Nick was tooling a piece of leather; Pa was sharpening an awl. The rest of us were just watching them with nothing much else to do.

  Becky finally broke the silence. “Is that bad man, Mr. Krebbs, gonna come back and try to get you, Pa?” she asked.

  He glanced over at her, surprised that she even knew the man’s name. But we’d all been more curious and paid closer attention to conversations we’d overheard than Pa realized.

  “Krebbs, you say?”

  “Ain’t he the man that’s after you?”

  “Well, he’s one of them, that’s for sure,” sighed Pa.

  “How many more are there?” asked Zack.

  “Oh, I don’t know how many’s left after all this time. How many were there back then, Nick? Six or eight?”

  “That’d be about it,” Uncle Nick nodded.

  “And them’s the Catskill Gulch Gang?” Zack inquired, edging his chair closer to Pa.

  “How’d you know about them?”

  “I heard you and Uncle Nick talking, and Corrie told me some things.”

  “I thought Zack should know, Pa, so I told him some of what you told me.” I hoped Pa wouldn’t be riled that I’d done so.

  But he just nodded his head thoughtfully. I forgot how much he was changing.

  “You done right, Corrie,” he said. Then his voice took on a gruff tone. Two months ago, I might have thought he was upset, but now I realized it was just his way of teasing us.

  “You know, Nick, I reckon these here young’uns are sharper than I thought. We better watch what we say!”

  Uncle Nick got serious. “And ya know, Drum, we ain’t out of the woods yet. I reckon these young’uns might just be big enough to know what’s happened and what could be coming.”

  Pa looked at each one of us as if he was sizing us up against Uncle Nick’s words.

  “Pa,” I said slowly, still a little unsure of myself, “if there’s still some kind of trouble following you, even with Krebbs gone, well . . . we’re all part of the family now. Seems like maybe . . . we could help somehow.”

  Pa sat back on his stool, let out a long sigh, and was quiet. I could tell he was thinking real hard. For eight years he had been a nameless recluse, a drifter with no ties, no home, living in a wild and reckless land—that had to have rubbed off on him some. Now, all of a sudden, he had a family—five children, at least three of them still very dependent. And all five were counting on him, depending on him to care for their needs, to protect them, to love them. It must have been very difficult for him at times.

  At last he spoke, and when he did it was in a tired-sounding voice, with a tinge of resignation, as if he knew that re-living the past eight years and facing the troubles that might lie ahead, even for the sake of his own children, wasn’t gonna be easy.

  “I ain’t proud of anything that happened,” he began. “I’d like nothing better than to never have to tell you kids what kind of man your Pa is—”

  “If the kids are to be told,” interrupted Uncle Nick sternly, “then at least they deserve to be told the way it really was.” Without further delay, he began to tell us the story.

  “You kids listen to me, and I’ll tell you the whole truth about it. It was me that rode with the gang, not your pa,” he insisted, pointing to himself. “I was just a kid, though that ain’t no excuse for what I done. I was hot-headed, and pretty stupid to boot! I knew that gang had a bad reputation, but I just closed my eyes to all the upbringin’ your Grandpa Belle gave me. I was a young fool, there just ain’t no other way o’ puttin’ it.

  “Now your pa, he was as good a family man as you’ll ever want to meet, devoted to your ma, and lovin’ every one of you kids as you came along—’course you was just babies then, and don’t remember. But I seen your pa holdin’ you all in his arms—all except for you, Tad, ’cause you weren’t born yet. A gentler man with a baby you’re never gonna meet, I can vouch for that!

  “Well, your pa saw that I was headed into deep trouble, and so he tried to talk some sense into my thick head. I wouldn’t listen to him o’ ’course, and then next thing I knew he up and joined the gang. I thought it meant he’d started to see things my way, but he done it so’s he could keep me in sight and be able to haul me out of trouble when it came! He never intended to become a real part of the gang, but just to stick around long enough to give me a chance to see the light. I finally did, that is, after I seen what kind of evil they was capable of. But by then it was too late. See, they had planned this big bank robbery. Up ’til then, it was just petty stuff—bullyin’, raisin’ Cain. But then this robbery came up, and afore I knew it I was in on the plans. Your pa wasn’t as trusted a member of the gang, so he and a few others didn’t find out about it until the night before. I didn’t say nothin’ ’cause I was afraid of what they’d do to me if I opened my mouth.

  “The night before the robbery, they told the rest of the gang the plans. We was all supposed to meet the next day, an hour before the bank closed. Your pa acted like he was going along, but after everyone else went off, he took me aside alone and gave me the biggest tongue-lashing I guess a grown man’s ever had. I was nearly ready to listen then—I sure didn’t want to end up in prison. But I also knew if I backed out with the knowledge of what they was up to, my life wouldn’t be worth buffalo’s spit. Fool that I was, I was still thinkin’ to go through with it, figurin’ to save my neck. But your pa could see
it all clearer than me—that I was tryin’ to save my neck by stickin’ it into a noose!

  “The time got closer and closer. I was really scared. Your pa was scared, too—scared I’d really go through with it. Finally, just an hour or so before we all was to meet, your pa laid right into me—slugged me so hard my head spun. You remember that, Drum?”

  “How could I forget? It was the only time you and I ever fought,” said Pa shaking his head.

  “We tussled there in that—livery stable, wasn’t it?—’til we could barely stand up on our own feet. But I saw then how much your pa cared for my crazy, foolish hide. I saw that maybe I’d be hurtin’ more people than myself if I went through with that robbery.”

  “I shoulda knocked your block off sooner, Nick,” smiled Pa. “In fact, I know just what to do next time you get out of line.”

  Uncle Nick laughed, rubbing his chin as if remembering the old pain. Then he was serious again. “Your pa saved me from that robbery, but I’d already made too many mistakes to get off so easily, I guess. The gang got off with the loot—leastways I figure they must have, or Krebbs wouldn’t still be on our tail. But the law was hot on ’em all, and they scattered all over the place. A couple gang members that I know of were shot, and one lawman was killed. One of the wounded was Jenkins. He’d kinda taken a likin’ to me and he knew where I was staying, so he came there to hide out. But he wasn’t too careful, ’cause he led the law to my place. I think he mighta told them we weren’t involved, but he died before they could get another word outta him.

  “So there we were, known members of the gang, caught with one of ’em who’d been shot in the robbery. We’d gone from the deserted livery stable back to my place to get cleaned up, so we had no alibi, no way to prove we was innocent. That’s what comes of mixin’ with the wrong people.

  “My sister never knew half of what happened. You just told her you was going to help me, didn’t you, Drum?”

  “I figured she’d try to stop me,” said Pa, “and I couldn’t think of no other way to do it.”

  “And he didn’t want your ma, or my pa, Grandpa Belle, to know what a no-account I’d become,” added Uncle Nick. “So we wound up in prison, your pa and I. You tell the kids about the escape, Corrie?”

  I nodded, and Uncle Nick went on, “So that’s how it was, kids, that’s how it really happened.”

  Zack looked at Pa. I could tell he was trying real hard to understand it all, but it was only natural he’d have questions. “Ma woulda understood, don’t you think, Pa?”

  “She might have, Zack. She was a good wife,” said Pa, “But I guess I was too filled with my own shame to think of that. Before we got married, Aggie told me she couldn’t live not knowin’ from one day to the next if I’d end up in jail or with a bullet in me. She said she had to believe I’d never go back to that kind of life. Back before I met your ma, I ran with fellers near as bad as that Catskill bunch. Well, I loved your ma and wanted to change, and I promised her I would. She trusted her life and future to my word. And all I could think of was that I’d failed her—and all of you, too. Even if I hadn’t been too ashamed to face her, I woulda never have put her through a life of running with me.”

  He paused and his eyes clouded for a minute as all the painful memories returned to him. “You see, son, when a man’s been in prison, it don’t take long for him to start feelin’ like a criminal, even if he’s innocent. You get to feelin’ dirty just from what you gotta do to survive. Well, all that together with everythin’ else made it so I couldn’t make myself go back, no matter how much I wanted to, no matter how much I loved Aggie and you kids. I guess in a way I didn’t go back because I loved all of you so much. It’s the kind of grown-up logic—cockeyed and confused—that’s a mite hard for young’uns to understand, I expect.”

  There was a long silence, just the sound of the crackling fire filling the room. The little ones probably didn’t understand all this, but I know they sensed Pa’s sincerity, and that would surely make up for whatever confusion there was over the facts.

  Before long, a question from Zack brought us back to what had started the conversation in the first place.

  “What’s gonna happen now, Pa?”

  “Well,” Pa answered, seeming relieved not to say anymore about the past. “Nick and I suspected all along that the fellers who escaped the law after the robbery musta figured Jenkins told us where the loot was stashed. He musta been carryin’ it when they scattered. The rumor we heard before we left New York was that none of them had the money, and they reasoned Jenkins told us where it was. We hoped playin’ dead would throw ’em off a mite. Maybe it did; maybe they never bought the story—but it was too much money to give up so easily. So Krebbs and whoever he’s got with him just kept followin’ us.”

  “I guess Krebbs has perseverance, if nothin’ else!” chuckled Uncle Nick. “I only wish I coulda got a hold of him long enough to tell him he’s barking up the wrong tree.”

  “Probably wouldn’t have believed you anyway,” said Pa. “I don’t know why he didn’t make an outright attack in the first place, unless he figured he could make some money out of Royce first, and make us suffer later. We’ll have to be careful, I reckon, but now that Krebbs knows we know about him, I think he’ll lay low for a while. Like a snake in the grass, he’d sooner attack us when our back is turned.” He scratched his whiskers thoughtfully.

  “You ain’t going to have to go back to jail, are you, Pa?” asked Tad, his voice anxious.

  “No, Tad. A few folks know my real name now, and that might be a problem,” said Pa, doing his best to sound unconcerned. “But folks here in California don’t seem to care much about a man’s past. Too many have come here to get away from pasts they’d rather forget. They wanna start clean, and California’s far enough away from civilization that it’s possible for them to do it. The law back East thinks Uncle Nick and I are dead. Someone’d have to go to a heap of trouble to prove it otherwise to them. New York’s a long ways from California.”

  “Maybe we could move away from here,” said Zack eagerly. “Go someplace where they ain’t heard of you—just in case.”

  “No, son. That’d be doin’ just what I done to you and your ma before. I ain’t runnin’. What comes, comes. I suppose that’s one reason when I first saw you, I considered not tellin’ you who I was. But now that you know—now that I have my family again—I ain’t givin’ you up, and I ain’t gonna hurt you again—not if I can help it.”

  “Pa,” I asked pensively, “couldn’t we find a way to clear your name with the law, to prove you didn’t have anything to do with that robbery?”

  “We might just stir up dust that’s best left settled, Corrie. I reckon if trouble ain’t lookin’ for you, you best not go lookin’ for it.”

  I knew Pa was right, and I was ready to accept him as he was and not worry about what might come. Yet I couldn’t help thinking that Pa was a mighty fine man, and that it wasn’t right that folks should think of him as a robber or any such thing. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that Pa would feel better about himself if his name could be cleared. But I didn’t say any more right then, though the feelings didn’t leave me.

  The talk had been so serious, both Uncle Nick and Pa looked almost worn out by it all—especially Uncle Nick, who I’d never seen so serious for so long a spell. But I think as painful as it was for them to talk about it all, it was also a relief for them to get it out. How well I remember, when we kids would have a fight, Ma would always make us “clear the air,” as she called it, by apologizing and talking about it. That’s what this talk reminded me of. It felt so good to have it all out in the open, and it helped to make us all closer too.

  Pa must have sensed this, because after a few moments of quiet, he said, “Kids, I’ll never know if I did the right thing, but I’m glad you know everythin’ now, even if you may not understand it all. I hope you’ll be able to forgive me for the hurt I caused you. I guess all we can do now is forgive and start fresh.” />
  I stood up, put my arms around his broad shoulders, and gave him a hug. It didn’t take long for the others to join me, eager to gather around and express their affection to their pa.

  Pa looked intently at each one of us, taking time to gaze into our eyes. When he got to Tad, he gave his thick mop of sandy hair a tousle, and Tad smiled broadly.

  But it was quiet, soft-spoken Emily, usually wrapped in her own thoughts, who spoke for us all. As Pa held her eyes for what seemed a long time, she said simply, “I love you, Pa.”

  He looked at her as though he’d heard something he thought he’d never hear again. Then he took her in his arms and held her tight. After he released her, he stretched his arms wider to embrace all of us.

  “It’s me who loves you,” he said. “Every one of you. You’re the best kids any father could hope to have.”

  Chapter 40

  Spring in the California Foothills

  The months passed quickly, and we got on pretty well as a family, considering all we’d been through.

  After the full burst of spring in Miracle, along about April, the last group of wagons heading East passed nearby our claim. Needless to say, we Hollisters weren’t among the travelers. We rode out to watch the caravan go by. I guess it was sort of a way to symbolize to us that we were here to stay. We watched until the last wagon was clean out of sight—Pa and all us kids; then we headed back to the cabin. There was no doubt after that day that California was our home for good.

  I can’t say things were perfect after the day of the cave-in at the mine. But they were a heap better than when we’d come here last fall. There was a happy spirit about the claim, and I don’t think it was just because of the gold Pa and Uncle Nick and Alkali Jones were pulling out of the mine. I know it had just as much to do with what had happened between us all.