“Hello Clara,” he greeted her jubilantly. Her heart at first leapt with excitement, but quickly she gave him the hateful look he usually got from her. Gilbert noticed, he smiled and walked away quietly.
One of the girls looked at Clara, “Did he really say, ‘Hello,’ to you?”
The whole group including Clara went, “eeww.” Clara felt tears pool in her eyes as she glanced back at Gilbert who continued to walk away without a glance back. She was sure he had heard what they said. But like the day before, she felt a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach as he disappeared around the corner.
Gilbert returned to the stable to find Mr. Williams there waiting for him. “Master Gilbert, Mr. Jaworski took a look at the horse you recommended.”
“Really,” Gilbert was impressed Mr. Williams came to see him.
“His reception at the Groober’s was very interesting.” Mr. Williams continued, “The horse was just as you say.”
Gilbert understood perfectly the attitude the women. “There is another buyer, but the ladies wish to sell to the creamery.” Mr. Williams was amused by the story.
When Mr. Groober finished eating, he took a seat in the front room to read a paper and wait for the expected horse buyer. Mrs. Groober had conveniently closed the front room window, “I have a chill,” she said before sitting to knit.
Eva quickly cleaned up in the kitchen so she could get outside to work in the flower garden. A few hours later a man pulled up to the front of the house in a buggy. Eva stopped her work of cleaning out the weeds, that didn’t exist, to study the man. When he started to get off the buggy, Eva quickly got on her feet to greet him.
The man from the buggy loudly spoke out to Eva, “Is this the Groober home?”
Eva replied quickly holding her hands out palms down, “Not so loud.” Then with a somber tone she said, “Mister is finally restin’ after ’is terrible accident.”
“I’m sorry,” he said with questioning remorse.
“Well, of course ya’s couldn’t ’ave known. It just ’appened in the wee hours of the mornin’.” She shook her head sorrowfully.
“What happened this morning?” He spoke with great concern.
“’Ee’s wantin’ to sell a ’orse to a gentleman, but ’e ’as such great love for the beast that ’e wanted to ’ave one last ride on ’er before she be departed.” Eva shook her head again. “’E went off like the wind, the two of ’em did. Took a mighty tumble down a ravine they did.” She moved closer to him with her eyes wide open.” “’E hit ’is noggin on a rock, got a concussion ya’ see.”
“I am sorry to hear that.” He was having some trouble understanding her. His concern was the horse, so he felt required to ask. “What happened to the horse?”
“What ’appened to the ’orse?” Eva showed fake anger. “What ’appened to the ’orse ’e asks?” She looked him in the eyes, studying the right one then the left one. Then she seriously asked him. “Is one of them eyes glass?” She got her face right up next to his and looked at one eye then the other, then back.
The gentleman looked embarrassed as he turned away. “Yes, I have a glass eye.”
“Which one?” She grabbed his face and pulled it toward her.
“This one,” he pointed to his right eye.
“Amazin’ what they can do these days.” She continued to study his eye, “Anyway the ’orse. She broke ’er leg badly and we ’ad to put ’er down.” She paused a moment, “What can I help ya’ with?”
“I came to buy the ’orse,” he rolled his eyes, “the horse.”
“The ’orse is dead. I just told ya’ that.”
He felt awkward at this point, “I guess there is no reason for me to be here.”
“No reason at all.” Believing to be successful in getting rid of the man before Mr. Groober saw him. She quickly added, “I don’t see any reason why ya’ should be ’ere.” She no more than got the statement out, when out of the house burst Mr. Groober.
“Mr. Leopold is it!” Mr. Groober yelled out as Mrs. Groober followed.
Eva’s heart sank as if she had just been sentenced to life in prison. “Oh, no,” she quietly said, that was heard by Mr. Leopold. She recovered quickly with another plan of action. “’E’s delirious. I’m very surprised that ’e even knows your name.” She talked quickly and quietly to Mr Leopold. “Listen quickly, ’e don’t know about ’is accident and that Ginger ’ad to be destroyed. Doc says that ’e shouldn’t be exposed to the trauma until ’e recuperates. You better come up with a quick excuse not to buy the ’orse.”
Mr. Groober reached the two extending his hand for Mr. Leopold to shake. “Mr. Leopold, it is a pleasure to meet you.”
Mr. Leopold was panicked by the pressure placed upon him. He could not move or speak. It was obvious to Eva that he wasn’t able to handle the situation. Eva intervened. “Mr. Groober, I ’ave some bad news. Mr. Leopold courteously stopped in to tell ya’ in person that ’e ’as purchased ’is monthly quota of ’orses and ’asn’t a penny left to buy another. “E also ’as just been informed that ’is wife ’as gone into labor and ’e wants to get to ’er as quickly as possible.” Eva started to prod Mr. Leopold into his buggy.
Mr. Leopold spoke blankly, “That’s right I must go to my mother, straight away.”
“Your mother?” Mr. Groober was confused.
“’Ee means ’is wife. ’Ee is so upset that ’e’s not thinkin’ right.” Eva started to push Mr. Leopold again to get in his buggy. She quickly followed him onto the buggy herself. “’e’s so distraught I better see that ’e gets to the train station all right.” She grabbed the reigns and came down with them on the back of the horse. The buggy quickly jolted forward and they were off.
Mr. Groober stood there on the lawn watching them roll away. “That was rather strange.”
“I wouldn’t give it another thought, dear,” she grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the house. “How about a nice cold glass of lemonade. Open up the front window and I’ll get us some.”
He looked at her strangely and said, “That will be fine.”
Later that evening Mr. Jaworski showed up and Mr Groober thought he was the answer to a prayer. Mr. Groober sold Ginger to him for thirty dollars. When Clara returned home, Ginger was already gone. The two ladies laughed and congratulated themselves on how they were able to manipulate the men.
Clara was angry at herself for not being there before Eva and her mother were able to explain to her what was happening. Eventually they were able to tell her.
That night Clara laid awake figuring Gilbert must have had some involvement in Ginger’s fortunate fate. Then she thought of how she treated him earlier in the day. She understood her friends treating him like they did, but she couldn’t understand why she did. She felt angry with herself for treating Gilbert like vermin and decided to find Gilbert the next afternoon to apologize.
Clara hung around across from the Fenny’s stable for a chance to see Gilbert. When his father walked away toward town, she crossed the street to find him. She slowly pushed the creaky barn door open and peered in. She had trouble seeing because it was so dark inside the barn and so bright outside.
Gilbert saw her figure in the bright sunlight of the door. He couldn’t be sure if it was Clara. “Hello, is there something I can do for you?”
She could not see him, but answered knowing it was him, “I want to talk to you.”
Gilbert’s voice was surprisingly kind and peppy toward Clara, “Oh, hello. Come on in. I’m almost finished brushing the horses.”
“I don’t mean to bother you.” She said meekly while carefully walking into the barn. “I just wanted to apologize for being mean to you yesterday.” She stepped further into the barn still looking for Gilbert. He only a split second to decide wether he should let her step in a pile of horse manure. He decided to let her step into it. “I shouldn’t h
ave acted the way I did.” She felt the squish under her foot. She looked down, scrunched her face up in disgust. “I will never do that to you again.”
Gilbert was touched by her apology for one thing, but to continue her apology after stepping into the manure confirmed her sincerity. “You’ve always treated me that way. Why should it bother you now?”
“Well,” she said, “you were so kind to me the other day.”
“I can understand why.” Her eyes were adjusting to the darkness enough to make out Gilbert’s silhouette. “You had to act that way in front of your friends.” He picked up the pitch fork and threw fresh hay into one of the stalls. “It’s all right, really it is.”
“No, it’s not all right,” she said defiantly. “I will never do that again, I mean it.” Clara leaned back on one of the stall’s post. “Father sold Ginger to the creamery. I might be able to see her once in a while. At least she will be around here and alive.”
“That’s great,” he said.
“I never got to say goodbye, and probably never get to talk to her again, like I used too.” She looked out the barn door to see a horse and buggy flash by.
“You can if you want to,” he said to her while smiling.
Clara was confused, “I can’t waltz into their stable and start talking to a horse.”
“Sure you can.”
“No, that would be wrong, and against the law.”
“You want to see her or not?”
“Yes,” she said apprehensively, “of course I do.”
“All right, let’s go then.”
He put away the last empty feed bucket and walked out of the barn. She quickly followed him. They walked north on Walnut Street toward the creamery. Clara wanted to see Ginger very badly, but she was apprehensively willing to go along. “No,” she stopped in her tracks at the door to the creamery stable, “this isn’t right. We can’t go in there.”
“Sure we can, come on.” She gave weak resistance when he pulled her through the door.
“Oh,” She squealed. Clara’s eyes were wide open, looking around to see if anyone was there. Her hands started shaking and her legs started to buckle as she walked behind Gilbert. She spotted Ginger out of the many horses as he boldly walked over to Ginger.
“How can you be so calm?” Her voice was shaking.
“I can be here, if I want,” he told her. He started to whistle gayly, which sent Clara into hysterics.
“Be- be- be quiet, they’ll hear us.” She raised a trembling hand to pet Ginger on the upper hock. Ginger lowered her head nudging toward Clara affectionately.
“I’m going to get a bucket of water for her.” Gilbert picked up a pail at their feet and started to walk off.
Clara could hardly squeak out words, “Don’t leave me.” She began to breathe small quick breaths of fright. She had spent her entire eight years of life, never daring to break a rule for fear of getting into trouble.
She heard footsteps coming towards her, knowing they were not Gilbert’s. She held herself still without a breath, as the footsteps got closer. She moved behind Ginger to conceal herself. She saw a man’s feet move around the back side of Ginger. She could not move or look up.
A soft spoken man asked, “What are you doing here, my dear?” To Clara it was a harsh, rough, angry voice. Clara stiffly and slowly turned toward the man to see a man nearly ten feet tall and eight feet wide. Clara stiffened even more with her eyes and mouth wide open. She was trying to scream but had no voice. She fainted, falling backward, stiff as a board, onto the hay at the feet of her beloved horse.
The man was Calamine Jeeters, one of the caretakers at the creamery. He was five foot two and barely one hundred pounds. Cal, as everyone called him, quickly knelt down next to her. He place the back of his hand on her cheek.
Gilbert returned with the bucket full of water, “Gilbert, get a cup for this girl.” Gilbert saw her on the ground and anxiously asked, “Should I throw the bucket on her?”
“No, not the whole bucket, just a glass.”
“I saw the sheriff throw a whole bucket on my dad many times. He gets right up.” He said quickly, “Works every time.”
“That’s not for a young lady, just a cup please,” Cal frustratingly said.
Gilbert put the bucket down, grabbed a tin cup nearby. “What happened to her?”
Gilbert had brought the cup over, but forgot to fill it with water. “Gilbert, fill it with water please,” Cal requested. “I think I must have frightened the poor thing.” Gilbert threw the cup of water on Clara’s face. “No!” Cal yelled, “Ta drink ta drink, ya fool!”
“I hope she will be all right,” Gilbert said.
“She’ll be fine, if she doesn’t drown.”
The slap of water on her face brought her into semi-consciousness. Her face and hair were drenched with water.
Cal picked her up by the shoulders, “We need to get her out of here.” Gilbert picked up her feet. They struggled slightly to get past Ginger and out into the main stable area. They laid her down on a nice fresh pile of hay near the entrance of the stables.
“She sure is white lookin’,” Gilbert said. He leaned over her, his face nearly touching hers. He had the weirdest urge to kiss her, but he thought it would be too disgusting.
Clara started to moan quietly and her eyes opened slightly.
“Clara,” Gilbert said, “are you all right?” Clara opened her eyes a little further, but did not speak. She looked toward Gilbert and cracked a slight smile. Then she rolled her eyes toward Calamine. Her eyes widened again, “It’s all right Clara, he’s a friend. His name is Calamine, everyone calls him Cal.”
“Really?” She quietly asked.
“Yeah, really.”
She lay there for several minutes, while Gilbert fed and watered Ginger. She asked Gilbert, “Why are you doing that?”
Gilbert smiled, “I made a deal. If they bought Ginger from your father, they would let me take care of her for nothin’.”
As his words of explanation became apparent to Clara, her heart began to melt with admiration for his sacrifice. “You had permission to come here and work with Ginger, and you let me think— you let me go on thinking.” She was disgusted and started to get up to walk out. But she felt light headed again and laid back down. Then she admitted, “You did this for me?”
He gave her the most bewildered look before he burst out laughing, “No,” he gestured to Ginger, “I did it for her.”
Clara heard the words, but she was convinced he had a crush on her.
When he finished feeding and watering Ginger he asked, “I have to exercise her, do you feel up to coming along?”
“Sure,” she responded excitedly. They walked Ginger around town for thirty minutes before returning to the stable. Gilbert offered to escort Clara home.
“Clara,” Gilbert addressed her in a questioning manner.
“Yes,” she responded sweetly.
“Isn’t Eva a German name?”
She chuckled, “Well, don’t ever talk about it to Eva, or even father. I’ll tell you what happened.” She took a deep breath as they turned off Main Street and started walking down Spring Street. “We lost our last maid six months ago. She moved back to Cedar Rapids to take care of her ailing mother. Mr. Randolf recommended Eva as a replacement. Father was so impressed with what Mr. Randolf had told him about her and having the name Eva he assumed she was German. So he agreed to hire her without meeting her. When she showed up and started jabbering away in her wild Irish accent, father was so lost at what to do. Mom and I still laugh about it.”
“You’re kidding me?”
Clara stopped talking long enough to take a breath or two. “No, lie, one day I asked her why her name was German. She was really nice about it, but warned me never to bring it up again. She said her parents immigrated to America before she was born a
nd wanted to give her an American name.” Clara stopped, “They came up with Eva.”
“Huh.”
“Father, being from Chicago, was brought up not caring much for the Irish. Especially after the fire there, you know.” They were having such a great time together their pace slowed to nearly a crawl by the time they got to Clara’s home. She was so intoxicated by all the laughter she turned to Gilbert unconsciously blurted out, “I love you.”
Their eyes popped open and their mouths hung awestruck. Clara turned and ran like a frightened deer for her house. She tripped over her own feet and fell harmlessly in the grass. She popped back onto her feet and yelled, “I’m fine!” Gilbert remained stiff with fright as she ran up the steps into the house, the door banging behind her.
The two young people worked together getting Ginger back into shape. Many times they would end up under the willow tree, they called the wishing tree. They spent times there telling each other about their hopes and dreams.
After the month of working with Ginger, she had become a strong horse. Gilbert liked having a friend to do things with. They had done such a good job rehabilitate Ginger, she was considered the finest horse the creamery owned.
One day while they watered the horses in his father’s stables Gilbert asked, “I guess since Ginger is in good shape I won’t be seeing you? Thank you for helping with her. If you hadn’t helped, I wouldn’t have been able to do it.” He knew that was not true, but he wanted her to feel good.
“Well, I suppose I wouldn’t have to come around anymore. School will be starting up again soon, at least until harvest time. Are there any other horses needing to be helped around here?” She looked around the stable.
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