Liisa

by Sioux Dallas

  There was much excited speculation while Alicia composed a letter to Attorney Kern. She gave him complete information about her and her ancestors in the event he had the wrong person. She finally found two pennies to give to the mailman the next time he came by. He would place the stamp on it for her and put it in the mail.

  Days went by as the family waited anxiously to hear something about the mystery. A letter finally came with enough money for a round trip ticket on the train. Included were instructions on how to locate Mr. Kern’s office and how to contact him when she got in town. Alicia was expected in four days. How could she leave the family and make such a trip?

  Two widows from her church agreed to take care of the family and do as much work as they could. Alicia didn’t know how she would pay them. No one had ready cash. She would offer to work for them when she returned.

  Alicia left with mixed emotions - excitement at her first trip on a train and fear of the unknown. What might she find when she arrived in Richmond?

  Mr. Kern met the train. He was a gracious gentleman in his sixties with beautiful snow-white hair and blue eyes. He was only about an inch taller than Alicia’s five-six, but stood tall and looked very important in his blue suit, white shirt and burgundy tie. He explained that his father had been the family attorney and he had inherited the position. The last family member had died almost two months earlier leaving a large mansion and a thousand acres of valuable land. Mr. Kern had searched records and found Alicia.

  The Kerns insisted that Alicia stay with them. She gratefully accepted their gracious invitation and spent the night with them. Sweet, motherly Janice Kern was chubby, laughing and loving to take care of Alicia. Mrs. Kern couldn’t have been over five feet tall. She had lovely curly white hair and bright blue eyes with a peaches and cream complexion. She was also an excellent cook and served food that made Alicia’s eyes pop out. Alicia ate thankfully and wished her family could taste the delicious food.

  Early the next morning, Mr. Kern took Alicia about ten miles out of town to allow her to view the property. She was in awe of the two-story white mansion. Her feet walked naturally down a familiar path, which she had never been on. Odors of flowers and flowering shrubs wafted on the air as a pleasant breeze fanned her excited face.

  The back of the property was just as appealing. A gently rolling river ran along the edge of the lawn with a burbling, singing sound. Birds sang happily in the big shade trees along the river.

  Looking all around and enjoying the view, Alicia saw a large cemetery off to the side with big shade trees and flowering shrubs in it. Neatly trimmed paths crisscrossed through the grounds.

  “That’s your family’s cemetery. Grounds people are hired to keep it trimmed and in good shape,” Mr. Kern told her.

  Out of curiosity she went to the cemetery to read the tombstones. Maybe she would find more information on family names and dates. What beautiful artwork on some of the tombstones. She stopped before a tall stone with elaborate artwork on it. She gasped in shock as she read: Joseph Henderson Stallard - April 6, 1824 - March 17, 1865. Beside it stood another beautifully carved tall marker which read: Alicia Sturgill Stallard - May 9, 1834 - July 3, 1904. In large letters were the words across the bottom TIME WILL TELL. Giving a small, choked moan, she fainted on the spot.

  Mr. Kern thought it was the heat, excitement and unexpected wealth that caused Alicia to faint. It took several hours for her to gain the courage to tell Mr. and Mrs. Kern about her dream.

  For the next two days, they searched family records trying to make some sense of her dream in connection with her inheritance. Finally they found an old diary that stated Joseph had not returned from the War Between the States. His widow had placed the dates on the stone just as if he had been buried there.

  “But what does that have to do with my dream?” Alicia cried out in agony.

  “It was Mrs. Stallard’s idea to pretend that her husband is buried there. I don’t know her reasoning behind that decision. Maybe it was to keep people from bothering her. Wait a minute! I just had an idea. Do you remember that we read how people buried valuables to keep them from being stolen? Maybe she buried something in her husband’s empty grave to keep it safe,” Mrs. Kern suggested.

  Two frightened, shaky men were paid well to dig up the grave of Mr. Stallard. One gave a scream of terror and ran when his shovel struck something metal. Mr. Kern and the second man lifted out a large trunk. With great anticipation the trunk was opened to reveal deeds, paper on births and deaths, marriages, sales of property, and papers valuable only to family members.

  At the bottom of the trunk was a smaller box filled with valuable jewelry and Confederate money. There was also about twenty-eight thousand pounds in English silver. This would be worth about seventy-two thousand dollars in today’s market. The Confederate money might be sold to collectors.

  Mr. Kern mused, “Alicia, apparently your ancestors sold produce to the British. I’ll gladly take the responsibility of converting this money for you and advertising the Confederate money in the proper markets.”

  “Thank you so much and I’ll expect to pay you for your troubles. I want to go over the papers later. I will keep some of the jewelry for myself and my children, but I’ll sell the rest. Oh, Mr. and Mrs. Kern, how good God is. My family needs money so badly for medical bills and to keep our house from falling down around our ears. We could use some decent food and clothing,” Alicia said with a sob and a small laugh.

  “You can live in the mansion or sell it as you please. The land is more valuable than you probably realize,” Mr. Kern informed her.

  “I can’t bring my family here. We’ll continue to live in southwest Virginia. But now my husband can have the medical help he so desperately needs. My darling father is slowly going into dementia and will need specialized help. Oh, how wonderful. My children can now have nourishing food and be assured of a good education.”

  Later that evening, over one of her good dinners, Mrs. Kern hugged Alicia and said, “That’s what your dream meant, dear. Time will tell where the treasure is and the hands of your ancestors were beckoning to you with love.”

  * * * * *

  Dear Readers,

  I wish I could assure you that they lived happily ever after. But they had the same ups and downs as all families have. It was easier to bear with money to help over the rough spots.

  Michael did get the necessary medical help, but he died at the age of thirty-one with cancer of the blood. Alicia’s beloved father lived to an old age, but, at his death, he had lost the ability to know any of them. This distressed the children that their loved Grandfather didn’t know them. Alicia was left, at the age of thirty, with two wonderful children and many wonderful friends.

  Benjamin grew into a handsome, intelligent man who became a world renowned cardiologist. Elizabeth became a successful attorney and was appointed to the bench as the first woman judge in her area. Both children had lovely singing voices and they enjoyed singing throughout their adult lives in their church choir. Benjamin played the violin and Elizabeth was an accomplished pianist.

  Benjamin married a lovely woman who was a successful pediatrician and they had three children. Elizabeth married an older judge, a widower with four children. She loved them as much as if she had given birth to them. She did have twin boys.

  Alicia never remarried and dedicated her life to helping others. She died in 2005 at the age of one hundred and one. She was so well known that her funeral was a social occasion.

  The President of the United States sent a representative.

  Alicia had established a college for children who could not afford one of the more expensive ones. She had left several scholarships for deserving students.

  If we had been on the verge of starvation, I wonder how many of us would give the money away except for just what we needed for personal uses. Time tells a lot of things but it can’t tell us how to have a conscious or a kind heart.

  Old Judd and the Devil

 
; 1920s

  Few people remembered Judd’s last name. He had been called Old Judd for so many years that few remembered his last name was Boggs. He wasn’t really old, only middle forties, but he had always been grouchy and a loner, therefore, people called him Old.

  Judd owned the country store which had the post office in it for Echo Hollow. The store had just about everything for every purpose. There was medicine, household items, some furniture, fabrics, tools, animal feed, groceries, oil, kerosene and a small restaurant. There was a single gas pump outside that had to be cranked before gas could be pumped. The new-fangled automobiles were still few in Echo Hollow.

  A day’s outing for some families was to come in a horse drawn wagon, or ride horseback to Old Judd’s store for a treat. It could be a dish of homemade ice cream, milk shakes or sandwiches with tea or coffee. There was usually hot chocolate for the kiddies. During the heat of summer there was fresh squeezed lemonade. Two or three women would sometimes help him in order to earn a few pennies for school supplies for their children. Eggs, milk and fresh-churned butter were exchanged for flour, sugar, baking powder, soda or even fabrics and thread.

  Men loved to sit in the handmade cane chairs and play checkers. During warm weather they played on a barrel top on the front porch. In wet or chilly weather they played on a round handmade table beside the pot belly stove. Women gathered to gossip, look at the new fabrics and discuss patterns or talk about weddings and babies. It was the main gathering place for the entire community, except for the small one room church at the end of town.

  Old Judd was a mean ole cuss. He was so mean that even animals shunned him except for one mangy, big tawny tom cat. They were two of a kind. People speculated that the old tom might be part bobcat because he had a stub of a tail, long back legs and growled a lot.

  Old Judd had a single room in the back of the store which was all he needed. He wasn’t bad looking, just sour natured and suspicious of people in general. He stood about six-three and was at least two hundred and fifty pounds of solid muscle. His biceps were large enough to look unnatural. He had weights that he used to work out and he ran about five miles every day. His hair was jet black and never looked clean. Thick eyebrows hung over coal black eyes. His brown skin got even darker during the summer when he worked out in his vegetable garden. He was what folks called black Irish.

  He was so mean that the devil steered clear of him, although every so often the devil would come by to have a chat and amuse himself. One day, when Old Judd and the devil were talking, they got to discussing the hereafter.

  “I don’t rightly know what to expect or what I believe,” Old Judd confessed.

  “Well Old Judd, I’ll tell you one thing for sure,” the devil spoke haughtily. “I know you don’t stand a snowball’s chance in a hot place of getting into Heaven and I sure as shooting don’t want you. You’re even too mean for me,” the devil guffawed.

  “Aw, come on. You wouldn’t just let me wander between Heaven and Hell with no place to go for my eternal rest, would you?” Old Judd looked anxiously at the devil.

  “Sure I would. Do you think I’m going to develop a good heart, out of thin air, and care what happens to you?” The devil roared with laughter.

  Old Judd bit his lower lip and began to worry. Since he didn’t smoke or drink, he had straight, white, strong teeth and he was so worried that he bit the blood out of his lip. His black eyes glared at the devil from under his bushy eyebrows. Beautiful long eyelashes caressed his cheeks. He ran his hand through his hair and straightened to his full height. He had always worked hard and ate good balanced food, so he had a strong, muscled body. His tanned skin was amazingly free of wrinkles and, although he’d been there for many years, people weren’t too sure how old he was.

  After much thought, Old Judd slowly turned his head to look at the devil and grinned craftily. “Maybe we can strike a deal.”

  “Now what kind of deal would I be foolish enough to strike with you?” the devil chuckled as he leaned back on two legs of a straight chair. He laughed so hard he almost fell over backwards.

  “Just to show you’re not all bad, you could give me three wishes.” Old Judd ducked his head so the devil couldn’t see his devious expression.

  After thinking a while, the devil said in a slow drawl, “Yeah. I guess I could give you three wishes as long as you don’t wish to go to Heaven or Hell. Now you got to keep the bargain to not wish for either of them or I’ll throw you right out into space to twist and turn for eternity,” he scowled.

  “Sure, sure,” Old Judd promised. Chuckling to himself he said, “The fact is that I don’t wish to go to either place.”

  “Oh, right,” the devil laughed. “Okay then,” he sighed, looked down and then looked up and threw his hands up waving his hands in the air in a circle and spoke some mumbo jumbo. “There you are. You’ve got three wishes, but remember what you’re not supposed to wish for.”

  “That’s all there is to it!” Old Judd exclaimed in surprise.

  “Yep. That’s it. I gotta go, but I’ll be back to visit another time. It’ll be interesting to see how you use your three wishes,” and he disappeared in a puff of smoke.

  Old Judd was tickled but sensible enough to think carefully before he used his wishes.

  The next day Old Judd was working in the store and thinking of his wishes. Mr. Hedgegrow came in with his two, spoiled, ornery six-year-old twins. The boys began running all over the store demanding candy and anything they could put into their fat little bodies. They picked up everything they saw and threw the item back. Some of them missed the table, or shelf, and were broken, damaged, dirtied on the floor and certainly out of place. They chased each other yelling and knocking things over including a barrel of sour pickles.

  “Can’t you keep those young’ns quiet? You need to keep them under control. I can’t hear myself think,” Old Judd screamed at Mr. Hedgegrow. “And tell them to keep their mitts to themselves. Your bill is already high enough because you’ve had to pay for past damage and now you’ll pay for a barrel of pickles and dirtied material. Better still, get them out of here and keep them out.”

  Now Mr. Hedgegrow was almost as mean as Old Judd. He wasn’t nice at all. People didn’t like him or his children, and felt sorry for his mousy wife. He had a temper and he cut loose.

  “I know you own the store, but the post office is in here and that’s government property. Because of that you can’t make me get out of here and I’ll take my sons where I please.” The two men stood glaring at each other while the two boys gleefully continued to create mischief.

  Old Judd was so mad he couldn’t talk. He turned his back to Mr. Hedgegrow and happened to see that mangy old tom cat. He grinned wickedly and whispered. “I wish when I say SCAT, that old tom cat will jump on whoever I’m talking to and rip into them scaring them.”

  Old Judd stepped from behind the counter, glaring at the boys, pointing a finger at the door and said, “Go on boys, SCAT out of here.” At that the old tom crawled out from under the table and landed first on one boy then the other scratching, clawing and yowling like a wild cat. It was hard to tell which was louder, the boys screaming, the cat yowling, Mr. Hedgegrow cursing or Old Judd laughing. As the cat pounced toward Mr. Hedgegrow, he ran out of the store closely followed by the twins.

  “What a great wish. I can use that again.” Old Judd laughed until he had to wipe the moisture from his eyes. “Let me think. What will my second wish be?” He scratched his head and thought.

  After a few minutes, he snapped his fingers, laughed aloud and spoke to the old torn cat. “I know. Somebody has been sneaking in at night and riding my horse without my permission. I wish that from now on if anybody rides my horse without my permission, that the horse will have enough energy to run alarmingly fast and hard under tree limbs, through briar bushes and jump anything in front of him so that he scares the devil out of the person and then bring himself home safely.”

  A couple of nights later, Old Judd was
tired and went to bed earlier than usual. He had just gone to sleep when he was awakened by his horse neighing and young men yelling, cursing and hollering for help. He stayed in bed laughing so hard that the bed shook and bounced. His horse was never bothered again.

  A week later Old Judd was thinking of his third wish. He glanced over to a side of the store where men were sitting in his handmade cane chairs, playing checkers and visiting. There were chairs plenty and one comfortable rocker. Old Judd was annoyed because he had made the rocker and never got to sit in it during the day when the store was open. He snickered wickedly.

  “I wish that, if someone was sitting in my rocker that I didn’t want there, the rocker would rock harder and faster when I say rock, and would not let the person get up or stop until I say stop.”

  The following week the devil came by for a visit. “How are you enjoying your wishes?” he chuckled

  “Great!” Old Judd answered. “I sure do appreciate them.

  He told the devil of the first two wishes and what had transpired. The devil laughed so hard he choked and began coughing. Nothing was said of the third wish. Old Judd assumed the devil thought he hadn’t used the third one yet.

  After several minutes of silence, Old Judd asked, “Are you sure you won’t let me come to live with you in the hereafter?’

  “Absolutely not,” the devil spoke emphatically.

  “Oh, well,” Old Judd sighed. I guess there’s no use crying over spilt milk. Why don’t we sit and be comfortable while we talk.”

  The devil hurried to the rocker and dropped into it. A smile of contentment came over his face as he lazily drifted back and forth, humming softly, his fingers tapping the arms.

  Suddenly Old Judd leaped from his chair. “Rocker, rock faster and harder and harder.” As quick as a wink that rocker was going lickity split so fast and so hard that the devil’s head was hitting the high back blippity blip.