Once Upon a Summer

by Janette Oke

  During the dinner hour Mr. Wilkes had to move the machine again. He wouldn’t even stop to eat. The men took their time about dinner, knowin’ that Mr. Wilkes wouldn’t be ready to go for a while.

  At the table Joey Smith asked Barkley Shaw if he’d had any more trouble with mice—SueAnn refused to serve them tea. That didn’t bother the boys any. I got the feelin’ that they preferred Auntie Lou servin’ them anyway. Mrs. Corbin didn’t pay any attention to the goings on. She was a simple, no-nonsense person, and I don’t suppose that she ever saw humor in anything. Gramps was takin’ it all in though. I could see his mustache twitch every now and then, and I knew that he was hidin’ a smile.

  As the men left the house, Mr. T. was busy braggin’ about the bays again.

  “Most dependable horses I ever had,” he was saying, “an’ I’ve had me some good ones. Nothin’ would spook thet pair— not the devil hisself.”

  I saw Barkley exchange a quick look with Burt Thomas.

  The final field was the furthest from the house. When it came time for the afternoon coffee break, the girls rode out to the field with Uncle Charlie in the empty grain wagon. They would catch a ride home with Grandpa in a full one.

  The menfolk were feelin’ extra good because they knew that they were near the end. They would finish the field and thus our threshin’, jest in time for supper.

  The older men settled themselves here and there on the ground, enjoyin’ the coffee and sandwiches. They discussed the year’s crops—not jest on our land, but the neighbor’s as well. Everyone knew that the grain was a good quality but the yield was down. We hadn’t had as much rain as we should have had, and the wheat jest didn’t produce like it usually did. Still, it was a fair crop and it was nearly all in the bin, so no one at our house was complainin’.

  The young fellas teased and pushed as usual. Cullum Lewis was the quietest one of the lot. I watched him as his eyes followed Auntie Lou. Mentally, I fought for him and against him at the same time. Auntie Lou didn’t seem to notice him at all—but then maybe she did. I don’t know.

  I noticed Barkley and Burt wander apart from the rest, and the next time I looked for them they were gone. I paid no mind to it and went back to my ginger cake.

  Mr. T.’s team had been restin’ in the shade of the trees at the edge of the field, heads down, quietly and patiently standin’, even though they had no rein to tie them. The rack carried a full load—Mr. T. would be the next man up to the machine.

  At the signal from Mr. Wilkes the men pulled themselves up from the ground and brushed the loose stubble from their pants. Mr. P. picked up his two bundles and tossed them up on his rack so that they wouldn’t be missed. He wouldn’t be needin’ them anymore.

  Mr. T. stepped up on the tongue of his wagon and grabbed hold of the rack without even reachin’ for the reins, which he would pick up on his way into the machine if he felt that he needed them. He hollered “giddup” to the bays and began to climb leisurely up into the wagon. The team took about two steps and then things really busted loose. The right bay suddenly threw up his head and neighed loudly. Then he plunged forward, smacked into the yoke, and fell back against his startled mate. By this time Mr. T. was scramblin’ up the wagon rack, grabbin’ for reins and wonderin’ wildly if he’d gotten the wrong team.

  The bay wasn’t finished yet. He began to kick and to buck, strikin’ out one way and then the other. By this time he had the other horse convinced that something was seriously wrong and they both decided that they’d best make a run for it. Mr. T. was still scramblin’ for his reins when the horses took off on a gallop.

  Uncontrolled, they nearly smashed into the wagon of Mr. Corbin but veered at the last minute, comin’ very near upset-tin’ Mr. T.’s whole wagon. Mr. T. was flailin’ his way through bundles tryin’ to get hold of the elusive reins. What a ride he had! I think that the team managed to hit every chuck hole and rock in the entire field. Bundles were flyin’ out from the wagon on every swerve and bounce. Every man in the field watched the crazy runaway, many of them rushin’ to take the reins of their own teams so that they wouldn’t get the same notion.

  It was Cullum Lewis who finally got things under control. The team was circlin’ the field and Cullum watched his chance. When they came near, he made a flyin’ leap and grabbed the bridle. Hangin’ on for dear life, his feet scrapin’ the ground and raisin’ a cloud of dust, he pulled on that bridle for all he was worth. To our amazement, the horses came to a stop, heavin’ and puffin’. He spent a number of minutes talkin’ and strokin’ and finally managed to get them quieted again. He calmly handed Mr. T. the limp reins, and still talkin’ and pettin’ the animals, carefully checked over the harness; he wanted to be sure that in all that buckin’ and rearin’ nothin’ had been broken. A few pieces of harness needed some readjusting to get things back in their proper place. Cullum’s hands travelled along each section.

  By then I was right there watchin’, not wantin’ to miss any of the action. Mr. T. was still up on top of what was left of his load, tryin’ hard to regain his composure and somehow rationalize in his thinkin’ the strange behavior of his bays. He didn’t see Cullum lift out a sharp burr from under the right bay’s harness, examine it briefly, and then discard it—but I did. Cullum’s eyes met mine and he nodded his head jest ever so slightly in the direction of Barkley Shaw. I nodded back. It was our solemn pact to make no mention of the offendin’ burr.

  “Seems to be okay, Mr. Smith,” Cullum called up. “No harness broken, and they seem calm enough now.”

  Mr. T. jest nodded, his face not seemin’ to know if it should be white or red.

  He didn’t even say thank you, but jest moved the team off, lookin’ a bit uncertain at first as to what to expect of them. He had to retrace his trip around the field and pick up the scattered bundles.

  I walked along with Cullum toward his waitin’ team.

  “Want a lift?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  We climbed up onto the load together and he handed me the reins. We both sat solemnly for a while, and then as if drawn by some outside force, we both turned to each other in the same instant. As soon as our eyes met, we couldn’t control ourselves any longer. We laughed all of the way back to the threshin’ machine.

  CHAPTER 14

  Patches

  MONDAY MORNING MY FEET seemed to drag a little; at the same time something within me said “Hurry, hurry.” It was the first day back at school. I hated goin’ back. The thing that bothered me the most was leaving Gramps. I wasn’t sure what he’d find to fill his day with me gone. Of course there was Auntie Lou. Her work would be slowing down now and she would have time for my great-grandfather.

  I suppose there were other reasons why I hated to go back. One was the shoes. I had to wear them all day for school and after bein’ turned loose all summer, my feet sure did hate to be all shut in. The mornings could be rather cool at times now, and I didn’t suppose that I’d fuss much about shoes from now on anyway.

  Then there was Auntie Lou. I still missed her when I was away from her, and I had the feeling that with harvest over, Grandpa and Uncle Charlie would take up the “man hunt” again. I didn’t like leaving Auntie Lou unguarded.

  I suppose the final reason was jest the simple fact that boys are supposed to hate school. School and fancy clothes, sissy games and girls, that’s what boys my age didn’t go for.

  Still, on the other hand, I had to admit that I kinda liked school. It was fun to be with the other boys and play ball or tag or prisoner’s base. I didn’t have much to play with around the farm.

  I would never have admitted it for the world, but I liked the teacher, too. Her name was Martha Peterson. She was the youngest of the Petersons’ houseful of girls. She was tall for a woman, but slim as a sapling, and her voice had a soft liltin’ sound. I loved to hear her read. During part of each school day she would read us a chapter from a book that she had chosen. We had gone through several books together, and I could never get e
nough of them.

  The truth was I jest plain liked my studies. I know, a boy is supposed to shy away from book learnin’. I didn’t. Books held so many interesting facts and figures that I found it awful hard to hide my enthusiasm. Arithmetic was my best subject. I always led the class with no trouble at all, but I also liked spellin’ and geography and jest about everything we studied. Didn’t care much for the music. Miss Peterson would trill up the scale and we were supposed to follow along behind her. We never could give a decent imitation and it embarrassed and discouraged me. All in all, even though I felt like a traitor to my sex, I liked school.

  I think Gramps caught on. His eyes took on a twinkle as if he’d like to scrub up good, slick down his hair, and join me.

  It was good to be back. There was a lot of shovin’ and yellin’ and slappin’ one another on the back as we met in the school yard. The bell that I’d been waiting for finally rang and we all trooped noisily in. There was Miss Peterson, smilin’ softly, lookin’ prettier than ever. I had to keep starin’ at my feet to stop the deep red from flushin’ up into my face.

  The day went quickly and before we knew it we were dismissed. I hated to leave, yet I could hardly wait to get home and tell Gramps and Auntie Lou about my day.

  As soon as I got over the rise and out of sight of the school, I whipped off my shoes and stuffed my socks down in the toe of one. I tied the laces together and dangled the shoes over my shoulder jest in case I needed my hands free for throwin’ rocks or anything. Then I hitched up my pant legs a couple of rolls to keep them from draggin’ in the dust, and set out for home. I ran most of the way. When I finally got in the door I was puffin’ so hard that I had to sit down and catch my breath before I could speak. Auntie Lou laughed at my excitement and brought me a big glass of cool milk and some cookies fresh from the oven. Gramps had some too, and finally I was ready to tell about all of my adventures of that first day back at school.

  When I had finished eating and talking, I went to change into my chorin’ overalls before going out to slop the pigs. Gramps was waiting for me when I came down and we went out together.

  “Joshua,” he said as we walked along, “I understand that Lou has an eighteenth birthday coming up.”

  I hadn’t thought about it, but now that I did I realized that it was true.

  “Yeah—I guess so.”

  “Anything that you can think of to help make it ‘special’?”

  I thought for a minute. “She likes parties—but she don’t get to go to very many,” I finally said.

  Gramps thought on it.

  “I hardly see how three old men and one young one could come up with much of a party.”

  “Maybe SueAnn and Nellie Halliday or some of the other girls could help us.”

  Gramps chewed on his mustache as he thought about that.

  “Maybe. Maybe something could be arranged. How could one get in touch with these girls?”

  “You could write a note and I’d take it to school and give it to Willie to take home to SueAnn.”

  “That’s good thinking, Joshua.”

  I beamed at the compliment from Gramps. He abruptly changed the subject.

  “Now then we’d best get those chores done.”

  We finished up the chores. We were even a little ahead of time. The men weren’t in from stacking greenfeed yet and supper was not quite ready when I dropped my last load of chopped wood into the wood box. Gramps deposited his load, too, and we stood there brushin’ our clothes a bit to get rid of wood chips, grass, and bark.

  “Got something to show you, Joshua. Come with me.” Gramps led the way to the small shed that stood in the yard. It held our rakes, hoes, wheelbarrow, and such like, so I wasn’t sure that I was that much interested in seein’ anything in there, but I followed. Maybe Gramps had found a mouse nest or something.

  Gramps opened the door; as he did so a funny bit of black and white fur came flyin’ at my feet. I jumped like lightnin’ had jest warmed my boots, and stepped back a pace. Gramps was chucklin’ and scoopin’ up the wiggly thing, tryin’ to get it under control.

  “Didn’t expect such an overwhelming welcome,” he laughed.

  I took a better look then and my breath caught in my throat.

  It was a pup! I reached my hands out for it, my head full of questions.

  “Where’d he come from?”

  “From some people in town.”

  “When?”

  “Well, I found him awhile back, but they didn’t want me to pick him up until today.”

  “You were in town today?”

  “That’s right.”

  “How?”

  “Partly walked, partly hitched a ride.”

  I blinked in wonder. Gramps had walked and hitched a ride to town! He must have wanted to get there awfully bad.

  “Why didn’t you ask Grandpa or Uncle Charlie if you needed to get to town that bad?”

  “Didn’t need to—just wanted to—to pick this fellow up.

  They didn’t get him weaned until last week.”

  I jerked my attention back to the pup.

  “Is he yours?”

  Gramps smiled real wide.

  “No, Joshua—he’s yours.”

  “Mine?”

  My mind couldn’t comprehend it, but my arms were already claimin’ possession. I pushed my face down against the ball of fur, and had my face licked as a thank you for noticin’ him. I laughed and got licked again. I put him down on the ground to get a better look at him. It was hard to do because he wouldn’t hold still.

  He was still plump with baby fat but looked like he would soon leave that behind and begin to really grow. His hair was mostly black and sort of curly. There were a few white spots here and there and that gave him a comical appearance.

  He never was still for a moment, and I could see that he was going to be an awful lot of fun. I scooped him up into my arms again and started lovin’ and pettin’.

  “My dog! My very own dog!” I kept sayin’ over and over to myself, hardly able to believe my good fortune.

  Gramps stood by—jest smilin’.

  “Hey,” I said, “I didn’t say ‘thanks.’ “ “I think you did, Joshua.”

  “He’s beautiful, Gramps, really beautiful. I’m gonna train him to do tricks—sit up, and beg, and play dead, and roll over— and everything!”

  “What are you going to call him?”

  I thought for a few minutes as I looked at my dog. Every name that I ever heard a dog called began to pour through my mind; I rejected each one until I came to Patches. Patches seemed to fit.

  “Patches,” I said.

  “Patches,” repeated Gramps. “I think that Patches is a very fitting name.”

  Gramps chose himself a wood block and turned it up to sit on, so that he could sit and watch me and my dog. I rolled on the grass, he growlin’ in a little dog voice and chasin’ my pant leg, my sleeve, or even the top of my hair, nippin’ and tusslin’ and rollin’ with me.

  We were still playin’ our crazy games when Grandpa and Uncle Charlie came home. I hadn’t paid much attention until I was somehow aware that I was being looked at. There stood Grandpa and Uncle Charlie both starin’ at me and the dog with puzzled looks on their faces. For one terrifyin’ minute I was afraid that they wouldn’t let me keep him—my arms automatically tightened on him.

  “Where’d—“ started Grandpa.

  Gramps stood up from the wood block he’d been restin’ on; it toppled over as though to take its rightful place back in the pile.

  “Got him in town. Every boy needs a dog,” said Gramps.

  His keen blue eyes held Grandpa’s.

  “Reckon so. Shoulda thought myself to get him one— sooner.” Grandpa nodded. “Let’s see ’im, Boy.”

  I brought Patches over and introduced him to Grandpa and Uncle Charlie. Grandpa rubbed his head a bit and tugged gently on his ear.

  “Looks bright enough.”

  Then it was Uncle Charlie’s turn. He p
atted the puppy and stroked him under the chin.

  “Bet yer gonna be one small piece of nuisance,” he said, “but yer bound to liven things up ’round here.” His voice held teasin’.

  Auntie Lou came out then and I suddenly realized that I had been so preoccupied I hadn’t even shown her Patches yet.

  “Look!” I cried. “Look what Gramps brought me!”

  She smiled and stepped forward to rub the puppy’s soft fur with the back of her finger.

  “Now, who do you s’pose has been fillin’ his tummy with warm milk and holdin’ him when he got lonesome for most of the afternoon? But now it’s suppertime. How ’bout if you put him back in the shed and come and get washed up.”

  I did, though it was awfully hard to do.

  After supper I took some meat scraps and a saucer of milk to Patches. I begged an old jacket off Uncle Charlie and fixed Patches a comfortable bed in a box low enough for him to come and go as he wanted.

  I was called for bed way too soon. It was already 9:00. Reluctantly I left Patches and went in to bed, promisin’ him that I’d be down first thing in the mornin’. I went to bed, my mind boggled with plans for my dog—the doghouse that I’d build, the collar that I’d make him, the tricks that I’d teach him. There was a whole new world waitin’ for me now—and all because of Gramps.

  I hadn’t been talkin’ much to God lately. Auntie Lou would have been shocked and hurt had she known.

  I was a little hesitant now about prayin’ after ignorin’ Him for so long, but I finally put aside my pride, crawled out of bed, and got down on my knees.

  “Dear God, I wanna say thank you for a few things. I know sometimes I don’t think you’re doin’ much special-like for me, but I do wanna thank you for bringin’ Gramps here—even iffen I didn’t want him at first. I really love him now, God. And thank you for Patches, too. Help me to make him a good dog so that he won’t be too much of a nuisance. Amen.”

  I climbed back into bed and pulled the quilt up to my chin. I went to sleep with my mind full of pictures of me and my dog.