The Heartbeat of the Mountain

by Joan Foley Baier

  As she approached the depot, Luvella knew she’d been smiling when she stopped—when she saw Mr. Johannson’s face, his lower lip pursed upward so that his whole face seemed to be curving downward.

  “Uh, hullo, Luvella.” His voice was lifeless, and he turned away from her to neaten a stack of wires that were already neat.

  “Good morning, Mr. Johannson.” Maybe she could cheer him up. She gave him the messages and addresses for her wires, and said, “Do you have your fiddle all warmed up for our bonanza?”

  Mr. Johannson just shook his head back and forth, back and forth. “Oh, Luvella,” he whispered.

  Oh my! He looks like he’s almost going to cry.

  Still shaking his head, he said, “Luvella, that Mr. Bocke has been talking privately to the railroad about buying the caboose. I just found out now that they’re considering letting him do it.”

  “But I have a lease!” Luvella said. “How can he do that? What will happen to my business?”

  Mr. Johannson sighed. “He told the railroad that he’ll just rent it to you until he decides to do something else. I guess he couldn’t afford the hotel, Jude told me.”

  “Mr. Harley? What about him?” Luvella frowned.

  Mr. Johannson tugged on his ear. “Jude said our Mr. Bocke gave the bank some warehouse receipts for a train carload of cotton bales. The receipts are collateral for a five hundred dollar loan. So now Mr. Bocke is bartering with the railroad. He told me he’d already had your lot surveyed. Did you see any surveyor around, Luvella?” He frowned his doubt.

  “Goodness, no,” Luvella answered. “I’ve been awful busy lately, but I’m sure I would have seen someone in my yard through one of my windows.” She picked up the papers she’d written her ads on. “Mr. Johannson, this is terrible news! I sure don’t want to rent from him.

  “I don’t know now if I should even keep my business, or…or…” She stopped speaking, and her eyes darted around, not focusing on any one thing. “Unless Daddy and I together can outprice Mr. Bocke.”

  She looked up at the depot manager. “Mr. Johannson, could you let Daddy or me know if the railroad tells you anything that looks like they’re going to accept his offer? I’d really like to know what the price he offered was, too. Or is it already too late for us to do anything?”

  Mr. Johannson, still pulling his ear, said, “Well-ll, I heard the railroad is checking Mr. Bocke out pretty good. When the railroad comes back to him, I might be able to leave a wire from them right here on my counter when you come in. By mistake, of course. But I know the railroad, and they don’t let go of their land easy. Let’s just wait and see here.”

  On her way back to the caboose, Luvella felt her shoulders sag as she hung her head. The air felt like molasses; she could barely get through it. She concentrated on her shoes, first one toe, then the other, as they peered from under her skirt. She found herself counting her steps, as she had that day Mr. Johannson had led her from the depot.

  Thirteen steps—about thirty feet. Oh how nervous and excited I’d been that day! And all my plans and work since then!

  She pulled on the railing to plod up the steps and into her caboose, slowly closing the door behind her, leaning against it until she heard the click of the latch. Tears blurred her vision and streamed down her face. Her knees felt as if they would buckle, like they did that night she arrived at Forksville.

  Forksville! Luke! How proud all of them are to be selling their baskets and to be part of our bonanza. And Mama, Daddy, my family—all their work and mine. We’ve painted the caboose, inside and out, scythed the grass on the property; I’ve even got flowers growing there now.

  Her legs weakened more, and her head felt like everything was draining from it. Clinging to the counters and tables for support, she found her desk and slumped into the chair there.

  ****

  “Luvella! Luvella!” Are you all right?” Anna’s voice. Someone shaking her shoulder, making her head slide back and forth on the desk. She opened her eyes. Her head was on the desk.

  “Wha—?” she said, slowly pushing herself to a sitting position. “Oh…Anna…” Her head swam. And then she remembered.

  “Oh, Anna!” she sobbed. “What am I going to do?”

  Anna shushed her, patting her back, until Luvella became calm and told her about Mr. Bocke’s threat.

  “I thought it was strange that we hadn’t seen him in our hotel,” Anna said. “But Luvella, isn’t it nice that you and I take turns having to fight the world?” She grinned and bent to face Luvella. “Now, let’s find my old friend, Luvella—the one who owns her own business and almost runs our whole town.” Luvella managed a wan smile. “My friend, Luvella, who promised me we would take care of Mr. Bocke.”

  Luvella sat up, remembering her own recent support of Anna. “Anna, thank you. You’re right—and you’re a very good friend.”

  “Now, Luvella, tonight you talk to your daddy about this. Don’t wait. And you know that nobody in the Valley wants Mr. Bocke around. Nobody. Let’s just keep our eyes open and continue with all our plans,” Anna finished.

  So it was that later that morning, Luvella forced herself to write the Pittsburgh Chamber of Commerce. “Now, where did I put that address?”

  Poking through her ledger, she remembered. “Ah, right in my names and addresses section.” She grinned to herself, beginning to feel better.

  After the date and the address, she wrote:

  Dear Sirs:

  The merchants in Muncy Valley, Penna. have had an organization for two years that sounds very much like your chamber of commerce. As such, we would like two things from you.

  First, could you send me the requirements for establishing our group as a chamber of commerce; and second, would you please send me the information for our representative to attend your conference in October this year?

  She decided to not say thank you. “Just stick to business, Luvella.” So she finished:

  Very truly yours,

  L. Andersson

  “There!” She licked the stamp and pounded it soundly on the envelope.

  Anna came over again later to eat lunch at the caboose—purposely avoiding bringing up Mr. Bocke—and they talked about a new sign. “I want a new name,” Luvella said. “Something that mentions the caboose.”

  They giggled at some of their ideas: Kit and Caboose, Luvella’s Caboose, (Anna said all the boys would love that one!), the Lost Caboose. Finally, they agreed on The Crafts Caboose. Luvella said she’d pick up some wood at Steckie’s so Reeder could work on the sign right away.

  Throughout the day, between the customers and visitors, Luvella worked on the first of her two barrel chairs, knowing that keeping busy was good medicine. The day went by so quickly, she barely had time to go to Steckie’s to get the wood for her sign before Daddy was due to pick her up.

  As she returned from Steckie’s and re-entered her caboose—of course, she had left her door unlocked—she was surprised when a draft of air pulled her door closed behind her. Something was different! That innate sense of alarm raised gooseflesh on her, and she tiptoed to the back of the caboose to check her lock and door. The door was not only unlocked, but it was open. That’s why my door slammed. Someone had been in here and must have left by my back door!

  She quickly looked out through the door’s window just in time to see that dreaded figure again, sneaking across the train tracks and into the woods behind her store. This time, Mr. Bocke was carrying his derby in his hands, but Luvella recognized his frame immediately.

  Why is he so sneaky? Because he knows no one likes him, she answered her own question. And because he’s up to no good!

  When Daddy arrived, he inspected the property behind the caboose and into the woods a little. Luvella told him about Mr. Bocke pushing the railroad to buy her caboose and her conversation with Mr. Johannson.

  “I’ll talk to Lars tomorrow. I’ve done business with the railroad for years, so they know me and my business reputation, and I know the high
er-ups there. Don’t worry. This is definitely something I can handle.” He winked at her.

  In the weeks following, Mr. Raven and Mr. Greycloud took turns delivering baskets to the stores in Muncy Valley. The women rushed into the caboose after every delivery, even if they didn’t have business with Luvella.

  “Oh, Luvella. The colors. And I love the designs.”

  “Luvella, can you imagine the variety? How do they do that?”

  “Oh my, Luvella. I hate to sell them. But where would I put them all?”

  Luvella laughed with each one and then rushed back to her own work.

  One of the Valley’s men always met them at the crossroads, but there was no trouble coming from the tavern there. The tenants and their friends had been duly chastened at the football game. Still, that meeting arrangement wasn’t changed; no one wanted problems for the Basket Bonanza.

  Only Mr. Johannson and Luvella had seen Mr. Bocke in town since the football game. Mr. Smythe had a permanent smile on his face, it seemed. Luvella didn’t know whether it was because Mr. Bocke was no longer threatening him or whether it was from all the room reservations coming through the mail for the bonanza. She suspected it was both.

  Mr. Johannson came into the caboose one day, his eyes widening as he looked around at her expanding displays. “Just wanted you to know, Luvella, that Jude Harley is questioning those receipts Mr. Bocke gave him. Mr. Bocke keeps saying he’s having problems selling the cotton and can’t make any payments on his loan until he sells the cotton or owns the caboose and rents it out.” He pointed his index finger.

  “Meanwhile I’ve told the railroad that many people refuse to do business with him and that you are related to Willem Andersson, who will strongly recommend you.” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t say you were his daughter, of course.” He blushed. “I told the railroad that my opinion was that they should wait for full payment from him before they sign any papers.”

  He put his hands in his pockets and nodded his head. “Luvella, all of us in the Valley are right behind you.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Johannson. Thank you. I’ll tell Daddy what you said. And you’ll tell us if we need to do anything?”

  Nodding yes, he turned to go. “This is dandy in here. Are you sure it’s the same caboose I rented to you?” He fumbled for the door handle and chortled on his way out.

  Her days were so filled with business, working on her chairs, and checking on bonanza plans with everyone that Luvella never got to walk out the back door of the caboose to just look around, even though she no longer needed her crutches.

  Until one day. She finished eating her lunch and decided to enjoy the sunshine. She stood on the back platform and, with her eyes closed, inhaled deeply. She smelled the scent of pine coming from the nearby woods, along the other side of the railroad tracks behind her. Flies and bees created a steady hum of music and somewhere, in the distance, a hound wailed, probably in harmony with a train whistle that Luvella could not yet hear.

  She opened her eyes. How peaceful it is here. She turned in a complete circle, observing what was really around her. And there was her mountain.

  For a moment, Luvella didn’t breathe. The majesty of the mountain overwhelmed her. She studied it, ending at its very top. You’re touching Heaven. You are definitely a connection, between me and Heaven, between Uncle Isaac and Heaven, between Luke and Heaven. She closed her eyes again. She hadn’t thought about Luke for…almost an hour. She smiled. But I can feel him now, here. Oh, how I wish…

  She sighed and went back into the caboose. She hoped again, for the thousandth time, that Luke would come to the bonanza.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  No sooner did Luvella get downstairs, than she had to run back upstairs to get something else from her room.

  Mama said, “Luvella, I do declare. You make more noise now with all your running than you did when you clumped around on your crutches. Slow down before you’re back on your crutches again.”

  Luvella smiled and kissed Mama on her forehead. “I think I have everything now, Mama. My room is all ready for the Ravens. Fresh water is in the pitcher for them, and a clean towel is folded on the table. I put some roses in our china vase there, too. Mrs. Raven loves roses, I heard her say.”

  Mama beamed. “After they get here and rest up a little, we’ll be along. And if you need help in the caboose, I’ll take care of Vanessa so Bessie can help you. Good luck, Luvella.” She held up both hands with her fingers crossed. “And to all of us!”

  Luvella twirled to show off her new lavender dress with the mutton sleeves. The skirt flared out in waves from her ankles.

  “How do I look, Mama?”

  Mama smiled. “You look beautiful, honey. Your waistline looks smaller than my leg.” They laughed together.

  Luvella rushed out to Daisy, all saddled by the door. She wouldn’t ride bareback today, even just to the caboose, because she didn’t want Daisy’s horse smell on her new dress. She threw the two satchels Mrs. Raven had made for her across the horse behind the saddle.

  “’Bye, Mama!” she shouted from the hitch by the door, put her foot up into the stirrup, swung her other leg over Daisy. Adjusting her skirt properly around her to keep any wrinkles from forming, she tsched the horse to a brisk walk out the drive. Once she reached the road, she urged Daisy to a canter down the mountain and into the Valley. A small cloud of dust flew behind them as they reined up at the caboose. Luvella walked Daisy to the back, unsaddled and tethered her to the railing of the caboose’s platform there.

  She glanced around the Valley as she rushed to the front to unlock and enter the caboose. Men were setting up the picnic tables; the fire pit was prepared, and she could see the large spit holding the roasting pig; Mr. Melk ran from the picnic tables back to give the spit a turn; Mr. Smythe was sweeping the porch of his hotel, a white apron still tied around his middle. Luvella was sure he and Mrs. Smythe had had to cook breakfast for several guests. There would be many more coming today. Last she checked, he had only one room left.

  I wonder if Mr. Bocke will appear today. He hasn’t bothered Mr. Johannson since that awful day when I caught him in my caboose. Or almost caught him. Daddy asked the sheriff from Dushore to be here today, just in case there were any problems.

  On her way up the steps, she noticed how spiffy her new sign, The Crafts Caboose, looked above the door. Reeder had painted the background bright white, painted a narrow black frame around it, and the name’s letters were all barn red, matching the color of the caboose itself. She smiled now, remembering how hard she had hugged Reeder when she saw it for the first time. Reeder was so embarrassed, he actually blushed.

  She entered the caboose, putting her key in the top desk drawer. The delicate lavender scent of Mrs. Maarten’s soaps welcomed her again. “Mmmm, I hope all my customers today will enjoy that as much as I do,” she said aloud, smiling her pleasure. “And then buy them.”

  Everything was perfectly displayed, sizes, colors, textures working together to create an ambiance of luxury, and her prices were set to make it all affordable. She had even set up her little tea table as her “Penny Table” for the day. Everything on it was priced at one, two or three pennies.

  Reeder had whittled tiny canoes, bows and arrows, simple shapes easily made from sticks on the ground. Those were some of her penny items. Mr. Raven saw Reeder making them on one of his visits and, on his next delivery of baskets, brought small Indian dolls and tiny leather pouches, like the one Luke had worn around his neck. He offered them for Luvella’s Penny Table, and she charged two cents for each of them. The arrangement was, with Reeder, for every two of his items she sold, Reeder would get one penny. Mr. Raven would get one cent for each of his items she sold.

  She set her satchels on the floor behind the desk and went out the back door. She rubbed Daisy’s nose and turned to face her mountain. The sun was near up to the timberline, and the sky was cloudless. Except for one. Luvella noticed it, wafting sublimely to the east. Junior! Oh Juni
or. Are you coming to our bonanza, too? She smiled and inhaled, long and deeply.

  She studied the mountain. A hush enveloped her. The sounds of the men working across the road, the rattle of wagons on their way to the sawmill crossroads, all were absorbed into the hush. I always feel like I’m in church when I feel the strength of my mountain. She remembered Uncle Isaac saying, “We are all connected. We are one with Mother Earth and Father Sky.”

  Her eyes feasted on the mountain. Your trees all started from seeds. Look at them now. All sorts of animals—and men—are protected by them. Even the branches of your trees reach upward, as if they’re praying. That’s why I feel your strength and wisdom. You are reaching to Heaven, and you are much closer to Father Sky than I am.

  She stood there for several more minutes, breathing in the mountain’s beauty, its comfort and its energy. She thought of Luke and knew he would understand what she was feeling and thinking now. Oh, how I hope he comes to the bonanza today. She looked again for that solitary cloud. It was not in sight. But she knew that it was up there, somewhere, and that Junior was, too.

  Daisy nudged her elbow, startling her. “Yes, Daisy, I know,” she said. “I have to get to work.” She went back into the caboose. She emptied the satchels of some last-minute items, mostly from Reeder’s whittling, and added them to her supply. Those that didn’t fit on the display table, she hid under the table skirts until she would need them.

  People were already strolling around the commercial area of the Valley, probably the hotel guests, Luvella decided. As they reached her caboose, she heard them through the open window expressing their pleasure at the idea of shopping in a caboose. Once inside, they remarked on the “lovely products” (one of them said) to choose from, and Luvella’s day began.