An Island Between Us

by K'Anne Meinel

  “Damn right,” the woman swore, startling both women. Looking over the truck with the three children pressing their faces against the back window and the other woman in the front seat with her cigarette, she squinted her eyes. “I tell you, one of my neighbors got two roosters and won’t sell me one. You get me one of them there roosters, and I’ll sell you an entire setting!”

  Barbara considered. She didn’t know how much an entire setting was and glanced at Marion, who shrugged slightly and then returned her attention to the window and the woman, who was leaning on her hoe. “Well, that sounds like a mighty fine deal. We’re homesteading on Whimsical Island and–”

  “You them city gals from Boston?” she interrupted to ask.

  “Yes, this is my partner, Marion, and I’m Barbara Jenkins. These are our children, and we’re building a cabin out on the island.”

  “That takes some moxie,” she told them. They were surprised to hear that expression for the second time that day. “I bet you need all sorts of thangs,” Grady drawled, glancing around at the junk between them. “You get me that there rooster, and I can work out a trade or two that would benefit you.”

  Unsure whether the woman was crazy or not, Barbara glanced at Marion, who was hard-pressed not to laugh as she blew her smoke out the window. She turned back to the woman and said, “Where is this neighbor with the rooster?”

  She directed them down the road, and they drove on, pulling into a small farm set among a beautiful stand of tall evergreens. Its red barn was well-maintained, and the fields looked lush and green. A man came out of the barn as his dogs set up barking at their truck.

  “Stay here,” Barbara told the children as she got out of the truck. Marion got out on her side, stubbing out her cigarette. “Hi there. I’m looking to buy chickens, and I understand you may have a rooster?”

  “I’m Ira Boehm,” the man introduced himself. “I do have a rooster for sale.” It was a big, black thing that looked positively dangerous. He sold it to them for the outrageous sum of a few dollars. Neither woman knew if they had been taken, but he put it in a crate for them, and they loaded it in the back of the truck. He explained he didn’t have a lot of chickens since something had gotten into his flock and he’d lost a lot them this last year, but he had the extra rooster.

  “We sure appreciate it,” they told him, not mentioning Grady Lavender as they drove away with the rooster in the back.

  “Do you think we got took?” Marion asked, looking at the children, who had their noses plastered to the back window of the truck looking out at the crated rooster. It had tried to peck the man, and it had tried to peck them too through the crate slats. It seemed vicious.

  “I have no idea, but we’re getting to know people outside of Franklin?” she suggested with a tone of humor in her voice. The people were certainly colorful.

  They took the rooster back to the junkyard, and as they got out, Grady Lavender came up and asked, “You got ‘im?” She looked positively excited to see the crate with the vicious, black rooster.

  “We did,” Barbara told her, getting out her side of the truck as Marion got out on her side. The children got out without being asked and watched as the three women unloaded the crate and gently set it on the ground amongst the overgrown grass and debris.

  “I can’t tell ya how happy this makes me,” Grady told them. “I’ll tell ya what, I’ll throw in a couple more than the settin’ I promised ya, and I’ll let ya have a couple of dozen eggs now to seal the deal.” She hurried off before they could say anything, and the two women exchanged an amused look at the woman’s excitement. She returned with a couple dozen eggs in cartons. “Now, a couple of these are double yoked, so you get even more!” she said in her odd, enthusiastic voice.

  As they waited, they had looked around, seeing several stoves and bedsteads they could have used that were rusting out here in the elements. They’d exchanged numerous looks, wondering what the other was thinking.

  “Is that a wood splitter?” Barbara asked Marion as she pointed out a set of wedges that were rusting in the weeds.

  As Grady came up with the eggs, she handed them to Marion and overheard Barbara’s question. “Yep, them wedges will split a tree right down its center. Me husband used them until his death, God rest his soul,” she said, making the sign of the cross before continuing, “He even invented a machine that’ll split bigger logs.”

  “Bigger logs?” Barbara asked, curious and thinking ahead to their own needs. They needed to split logs to build their cabin. They’d planned to use wedges and had purchased some from Montgomery Wards before they found the tool sets at Sears.

  Grady proudly showed them a gadget that forced an attached wedge into the wood and moved it through the center of the log with a corkscrew that they turned slowly. “Barney said it would work for logs up to four feet through!” she told them excitedly.

  “Hmmm, could you explain how it works?” Barbara asked, trying not to get too excited, but anything that would help them with the enormous amount of work they had waiting for them would be welcome.

  She demonstrated proudly as it was her husband’s clever invention. It forced the wedge through the log.

  “What’s the longest log it handled?” Barbara asked, envisioning uses for the contraption. Marion nudged her shoulder, wondering at her interest in the rusty junk in this woman’s yard. She frowned, waiting for an explanation, but Barbara shook her head as she watched Grady’s demonstration.

  They discussed its relative merits and then, because Grady was acting so proprietary about it, Barbara dropped it in order to move on to other things that captured her interest, like the many stoves and bed frames. Grady asked about their island and what they planned to do with it. They couldn’t tell her much as their plans were still relatively tentative beyond building some summer cabins for people to use to get away.

  “Well, I’m sure you can use my husband’s log splitter, but I want ‘er back, and I’ll raise them there chickens for ya,” she generously offered. “I know some folks who have sheep as well, but this time of year is when they’re waiting on their young, so the best time to buy is after they’re shaved or have the lambs. A couple I know over there a ways got some pups comin’ on, and I know you’re gonna need kitties ain’t ya?”

  When Grady mentioned pups and kitties, she got the attention of the children, who had to be repeatedly admonished not to play with anything. Barbara exchanged a look with Marion, who suddenly looked hopeful as she realized this woman, despite being surrounded by junk, was a valuable source of information.

  “Well, we will have to do it all piecemeal. We don’t have the money to just build it all, and of course, getting some of this heavier stuff out to the island is going to take time,” she admitted, caressing one of the stoves she’d admired and would have liked to obtain.

  Grady saw a lot more than people gave her credit for. Her husband might have hauled all this junk in here, but she knew all about it. She helped load the wedges and cables in the back of the truck. “You drop on by when you’re next in Franklin, and I’ll let you know when the chicks are ready to go. Build a sturdy coop in the meantime,” she advised, “so no varmints can get in and kill yer chickens.” She was extremely pleased about the rooster they had managed to obtain for her. She’d explained that people thought she was crazy since her husband’s untimely death. Hearing that both Marion and Barbara were ‘widow women’ too seemed to endear them to her, and she was quite helpful and friendly.

  “Bye, bye,” they called as they pulled away.

  “How did you know?” Marion murmured as she didn’t want the children to overhear them. She was carefully cradling the eggs, looking forward to making scrambled eggs the next morning or maybe even that night for dinner.

  “Something told me to keep her talking, and there were things we could use in that yard, even if they were secondhand.”

  They’d brought their hand-propelled lawnmower with them, and it stood under their tarp on the island. Pre
sently, it was useless, like a lot the junk in that woman’s yard, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t come in handy at some point.

  They pulled into another farmer’s yard where Grady had directed them. Several dogs announced their arrival and Marion, to the children’s dismay, ordered them to stay in the truck. She gently and carefully put the eggs under her seat in case any of them climbed into the front seat. She didn’t want their eggs to get smashed.

  “Hello there,” someone called as he came from the barn and the two women got out of the truck.

  “Hello,” the two women responded together, then looked at each other briefly and started to laugh.

  Marion spoke first this time, asking, “I understand you might have some dogs or cats for sale? Maybe pups or kittens?” The children heard her clearly and not realizing at first why they were going to this farm, they now hung out the windows, avidly listening and trying to catch every word.

  “Oh, who told you that?” he asked, looking at them and their truck slightly suspiciously.

  “Grady Lavender,” Barbara put in, watching the man’s reaction.

  At first, he looked surprised, then briefly confused, and then, he smiled in welcome. “Well, I’ll be. I thought she didn’t like me,” he murmured. Then, realizing he had an audience, he turned the smile on them and said, “I do indeed have a litter of pups that were born early this spring, and there are kittens as well as full grown cats, if you’re lookin’.”

  “Is it okay if my children get out of the truck? I didn’t want them running around if you think they might bother the animals,” Marion asked politely. She was already petting a dog that looked odd with its black and white coat, a mask across its one eye, and spots throughout its coat. Its long tail wagged happily as she petted it. Two other dogs came over when they saw it getting petted, and she soon had her hands full.

  “Get away there, dogs,” the farmer said affectionately. “Sure, your children can come out. The dogs will love them.”

  At this, the children, who had been listening, opened the truck doors and clambered out. Soon, they too were petting the mostly long-haired dogs, who were panting happily at the attention.

  “You new abouts here?” he asked, watching the children indulgently.

  “We just moved up here from Massachusetts, and it was recommended we get dogs to help on our place and cats to keep the mice down,” Barbara told him, watching how happy the children were with the dogs.

  “Ya can’t beat a good dog on the place,” he agreed as he began leading them back into the barn. “I have this batch of pups that are ready to go. I keep them in the stall, or they’d be all over running about and getting up to all sorts of mischief.” He showed them the black and white pups with the same lengthening hairs, which proved they were all the same breed as the adult dogs that had greeted them. The children were allowed in the enclosed stall and were soon playing joyfully with the pups. “I have some kittens somewhere about,” he said as he began to look in the hay in another area. He soon came out with two large kittens and handed them to the two women, who immediately began petting them.

  “Aren’t they cute?” Marion said, thrilled to be petting the big, gray kitten with long hair and big, gray-blue eyes. He started purring loudly.

  “Look at this one,” Barbara murmured in reply, cuddling the little orange tiger.

  “Massachusetts, you say?” he asked, continuing the conversation from outside the barn.

  He had also heard of the two widow women, only he referred to them as spinsters, which had them all grinning. Neither of the women could be considered spinsters after having been married and producing children. Still, it showed they were the talk of the small community.

  “How much do you want for the kittens?” Barbara asked after they chatted a while. She saw the children’s heads come up hopefully. They discussed the various attributes of the cats, then the dogs, and before they knew it, they were leaving the farm with two kittens, a dog, and a pup. The dog was too old for breeding, and while he would be sorry to lose the older bitch, he had plans to keep some of the pups himself and didn’t want interbreeding. The full-grown dog seemed surprised to find herself in the truck but was game to go. She liked sitting with the children, and while it wasn’t her pup sharing their laps, she nudged it now and then to show it wasn’t alone since it no longer had its litter mates. It cried for a bit, but she comforted it.

  “We really didn’t need all this,” Marion murmured as she held one of the kittens on her lap and tried to keep the other one from bothering Barbara as they drove back to the pier.

  “I know, but opportunity knocked, and we took advantage,” Barbara said happily. No, they didn’t need more mouths to feed, but several nights she had been frightened by the noises on their island, and she worried about protecting the children. While she had her husband’s hunting rifle, she hadn’t unpacked it yet. She knew Marion had a gun her husband had left her too but had no idea where it was. Seeing a rat on the island one morning, she knew they needed the cats for sure and possibly the dogs to help keep wild animals at bay.

  “I hope we don’t regret this,” Marion murmured as she cuddled the two sleepy kittens, who didn’t seem to mind the more boisterous puppy in the back seat making noises with the children. Twice, Barbara had to shush the children. The dog seemed to take these admonitions personally as she looked from Barbara to the children and lowered her head guiltily.

  They stopped at the local store and Marion handed the kittens to the children, warning them to be quiet while they popped into the store and picked up some supplies. They were out of cigarettes, and she bought several packets for them both. Despite being as quick as possible, Barbara had to go back out to settle down the children, who were being too boisterous with their new animals. She ended up taking the kittens into the front seat and waiting for Marion to come out.

  “That was an expensive trip,” she murmured as she got in after putting the boxes of supplies in the back of the truck. She handed Barbara a pack of cigarettes, opening her own and pulling one out to light it. By the time Barbara got her pack open, Marion was ready to light it for her.

  “Just the groceries, or are you talking about the animals too?” Barbara asked as she started up the truck, a cigarette dangling from her lip.

  “Yes,” she answered with a grin. She took a deep drag of her cigarette, relaxing as the smoke filled her lungs.

  Barbara returned the grin around her own cigarette; glad they were both in such good moods.

  They put the supplies in the front of the boat along with the bags of cement to keep away any salt spray on their way back to the island. As they loaded the kittens, the pup, and the children on the boat, the dog looked warily at the boat. Marion noticed a pile of pallets near one of the piers farther down and headed that way.

  “Be right back,” she called as she left, the dog going with her since it was tied to the rope she was holding. Calling to someone on their boat, she talked to them a while. Barbara frowned, wondering at the delay and admonishing the children to be careful with the pup and kittens. She couldn’t hear what Marion was saying but soon saw her gesture her over, so she made her way down their pier.

  “Hi there. These kind folks said we can have these pallets and all the future pallets they get their supplies on. They also know a couple people who might have pallets we can have. They’ll stack them up at the end of our pier, if we pick them up every couple of days.”

  Barbara could have kissed her then and there. This sure would be handy; the cut wood could be pulled apart and used for a variety of things. She smiled her thanks, nodding to them and began to carry one of the pallets, Marion struggling with another as they took them back to their own pier and then carried them out to the boat.

  “What are those for, Mom?”

  “Can we help?”

  The children interest was distracted for a moment, then they turned back to the animals, obviously more interested in them as Barbara fastened first one and then another palle
t to the boat while Marion went back for another and put it on the dock. Barbara hurried to help her, and they brought two more over. Soon, the pile was gone.

  “We’ll send more over,” the man on the other boat assured them, silently amused by these city girls. Then. he shrugged it off. It wasn’t his look out, and they did have to get rid of these pallets. Usually, they took them home and burned them. This would save them all that work.

  “This is an excellent idea,” Barbara praised Marion as she fastened the others to the first and stacked them on top.

  “I thought we could pull them apart, if all else fails, and use the wood for something.”

  “The dock?”

  “Or inside the cabin?”

  They made plans for the rich, precut wood, which was a bonus. Pallets had been made in various sizes and shapes, but during the war, they became more commonly used by the army for the supply of weapons, food, etc. for the troops. Now, businesses were using them...and discarding them after use. Wood was cheap, efficient, and replaceable.

  Their load wasn’t heavy on the way back, but it was awkward with the pallets on the bow of the boat. It also looked like a storm was coming up, and Barbara carefully maneuvered her way around the various islands until heading out to sea. They were all relieved to see the island come into sight, especially the dog, who hadn’t really wanted to get into the boat. She was the first to jump out when the boat went up on the beach. Off her lead, she quickly went into the woods to squat and take a pee.

  “We are going to have to think up names for all these animals,” Barbara teased the children as she grabbed one box of groceries that Marion had purchased and handed the other to her partner. Each of the children had a kitten and one had a puppy.

  “I think that puppy needs to get down and go to the bathroom with its aunt.”

  “She’s his aunt?” Brenda asked, wide-eyed, holding the gray kitten proprietarily.

  “Yep, she is. Wish we had asked the farmer her name.”