by Janette Oke
Gramps patted me gently, got up and moved toward the door. I was glad that he hadn't expected me to talk. I couldn't talk now.
I laid there thinkin' about my little dog, and then a lot of other bitter thoughts started comin' to me, too. I used them like a blanket, wrappin' myself up in them and findin' a queer kind of satisfaction in the thought that I had suffered more than anyone else in the world. Bitterness filled me until I could hold no more. I sniffed.
My door opened again. Auntie Lou slipped in.
"Don't cry, Josh;' she pleaded, soundin' like she needed the admonition more than I did.
"I ain't cryin'."
Now Auntie Lou could hear a sniff behind a three-foot solid rock wall, but she didn't argue with me; she jest sat beside me much as Gramps had done.
"I'm sorry, josh-so sorry."
I knew that she was.
"There was jest no way that we could have stopped it"
"God could've"
There, it was out now-in two angry, accusin' words.
Auntie Lou sorta caught her breath, but I didn't wait for her to say anything.
"I even prayed last night, and I thanked Him for Gramps and I thanked Him for Patches, and then without even waitin' He lets my dog die. He could have stopped it! He could have! He doesn't care, that's what. He jest hurts and hurts, and iffen He thinks that I'm gonna love Him-I'm not-I won't."
I was Bobbin' now and Auntie Lou sat quietly as though my words had completely stunned her.
I flipped over on my stomach.
"He doesn't even leave me memories;' I almost shouted. "He takes everything:"
Auntie Lou let me cry until I had completely drained myself of tears. When I finally lay quietly she took my hand and stroked it gently, feelin' each of my fingers separately.
"Josh?"
I managed to say, "Yeah"
"What did you mean about memories-about not havin' any?"
I swallowed once or twice.
"It was the same with my ma and pa," I muttered. "God took em, too, before I could have any memories. Grandpa has memories. Lots of them. He told me all about Grandma and Great-grandma, too. And Gramps told me all about the good years when Great-grandma was still with him. Uncle Charlie remembers, too, but I don't remember nothin'-not one thing."
I started to whimper again.
"Josh " .
"What?"
"Josh, I don't remember my ma either, but I have lots of memories"
I looked at her in the pale light, wonderin' if she'd lost her senses.
"My mama died before I was old enough to remember her. I know that she loved me-I jest feel it; but I don't remember one thing about her, not one.
"Then how-"
"My memories are different, but they're jest as real and jest as filled with love.
"I remember Pa's face above my crib, his eyes laughin' as he played with me. I remember Uncle Charlie givin' me a ride on his foot and sayin, `This is the way the lady rides. I remember Pa rockin' me and holdin' me before he tucked me into bed at night. I remember him leanin' over me, his hand on my cheek, a worried look in his eyes when I had the measles, and I remember them both stayin' beside my bed all night long one winter when I had the croup. They took turns for four days-day and night.
"Josh, I remember a tiny baby that was brought home wrapped in blankets, and when I asked Pa why, he swallowed away tears and said that the baby was mine to care for now. He needed me. I remember dressin' him and feedin' him and playin' with him-and lovin' him."
There was a pause while Auntie Lou struggled for control.
"I have lots of memories, josh-lots of good memories:'
It was little more than a whisper.
As I listened to Auntie Lou talk, I realized that I had some memories, too. I'd jest been lookin' in the wrong place for them. Like families, memories didn't come in only one kind of package.
I was fightin' an inward battle now. I was still angry and wantin' to strike back.
"He still didn't need to take my dog"
"Josh, God didn't take your dog. It was jest-jest one of those things that happens, that's all:"
"But He coulda stopped it"
Auntie Lou hesitated a moment as she carefully thought through her next words.
"Yes, He could have. He could let us go through all of our life, bundlin' us and shelterin' us from anything and everything that would hurt us. I could do that with my petunias, Josh. I could build a box around them and keep them from the wind and the rain, the crawlers and the bees. What would happen iffen I did that, Josh?"
I jest shrugged. The answer was too obvious.
"They'd never bear flowers;' said Auntie Lou.
"Josh, I don't understand all about God, but there's one thing that I'm as sure of as the fact that I live and breathe. He loves us. He loves us completely, and always keeps our good in mind.
"I don't know how losin' your pup is for your good, josh, but I am sure that it can be or God wouldn't have let it happen. It's all up to you, josh. Whenever something comes into our life that hurts us, we do the decidin'- do I let this work for my good, as God intended, or do I let bitterness grow like a bothersome canker sore in my soul?
"We love you, Josh-every one of us. We don't want to see you hurt. It's happened now. We can't change it, but don't give the hurt a chance to grow even bigger and destroy you. God loves you. He can help you with the hurt if you ask Him to; accept that even this can be for your good. Try, Josh. Please try."
Auntie Lou bent down and kissed me. Her cheeks were wet as they touched mine. She left the room.
I laid there thinkin' of all that she'd said. I decided that one day soon, maybe down by the crik, I'd work on some memories and see jest what I could come up with. Even as I laid there I saw a blue-eyed, laughin' pixie face bendin' over me, cooin' love words-my Auntie Lou. I pushed it aside. I didn't want to get love feelin's all mixed in with my bitter ones. The one might somehow destroy the other.
Auntie Lou loved me, of that I had no question. So did Gramps, and even, I was willin' to admit, Grandpa and Uncle Charlie. But God? Somehow that jest didn't add up.
If He did love me He sure chose some strange ways of showin' it. I knew that Auntie Lou wouldn't want me to hate God. I was even a little afraid of the consequences myself. No, I decided, I wouldn't hate Him-but I couldn't love Him either. I'd jest feel nothin'-nothin' at all. I wouldn't even think about Him. I'd jest ignore Him completely. That would give Him something to think about. Maybe He'd even feel sorry.
CHAPTER 16
Love in Action
I dreaded having to go back to school. I'd have to tell all the kids about my pup. I hated it. If ever I'd been tempted to play hooky, that was the day. I considered takin' my lunch pail and jest headin' for the crik, but I realized that I would then be cornered into tellin' lies to Auntie Lou; I jest couldn't stand the thought of that. I dragged to school, faced my friends with the facts, and dragged home again.
When I entered the kitchen, Auntie Lou was fussin' over Gramps.
"Please," she was saying, "drink up your tea. You look all done in."
My eyes turned to Gramps. He did look awfully tired. I hoped that he wasn't gettin' sick or something.
I said between clenched teeth, "If you take him, too.. "My hands were at my sides tightenin' into fists.
Gramps smiled at me, rather weakly, but he showed spunk.
"Howdy, Joshua."
"Howdy."
I slipped into my chair jest as Auntie Lou set my juice down.
"Hurry with your juice, Josh. Gramps has something to show you."
After my juice was gulped down, Gramps led me to the shed again. Inside was a carefully made little box. The lid was already down. I guessed that Gramps thought it best that I not see Patches' trampled body. There was a marker there, too. It was a long sharp-pointed stick with another stick across the top of it on which were painted the words, "Patches-Joshua's first dog:"
"I thought that maybe youd like to-"
/> "Where?" I asked as I swallowed hard and nodded.
I led the way, carryin' the box. Gramps followed with a shovel. There was a bit of soft soil under the big maple tree at the end of Auntie Lou's garden. When I reached the tree I put the box down and took the shovel from Gramps.
We said nothin' until the box was lowered and covered and the marker pounded in the ground. "Patches-Joshua s first dog." I wondered at Gramps' choice of words. Auntie Lou came and put a little bouquet of late fall flowers on the tiny grave.
"In the spring;" she said, "we'll plant a violet:"
I looked at the two of them.
"Thanks;" I said, and picked up the shovel and started off to get ready for chores.
"Joshua;" called Gramps. "There's just one more thing:"
Surely he wasn't askin' me to pray over that dead dog. I stopped.
"In the house;" prompted Gramps.
I walked obediently into the kitchen and jest stood waitin.
Gramps shuffled past me. He did seem tired. I'd never seen him walk like that before-without a spring to his step.
In a minute he was back from his room with something concealed beneath his sweater. When he reached in, there was a bit of motion to the lump and then a soft nose peeked out, followed by two bright, almost black eyes.
"I know that she isn't Patches;' said Gramps, untanglin' her feet from his sweater, "but she could be a lot of fun"
He handed her to me. She was so little. Only a baby, really. Her hair was soft brown curls, her little ears drooped over her fine shaped head and her tail was curled and fluffy.
"She's pretty young to leave her mother;" said Gramps, "so we'll have to be extra careful with her. She's going to be awfully lonesome for a while, Joshua. She'll need lots of love"
I jest held her, marvellin' that a puppy could be so tiny and so perfect. Her little tongue licked against my hand. She knew that much already.
"She'll never be a cattle dog;' continued Gramps, "never be big enough for that. She won't be very big at all. I couldn't find-"
"She's fine," I cut in. I got the impression that Gramps was apologizin' about the puppy. "She's beautiful. Jest look-jest look at her face. Bet she'll learn tricks fast. Bet she might even learn how to walk on her hind legs and dance:"
That something that had seemed dead within me was stirrin' to life again. I felt excitement creepin' through me.
I heard a sigh of relief escape Auntie Lou, and Gramps' face looked less tired.
I hugged the puppy again. She was small enough that I could hold her firmly in my two hands.
"What you gonna call her?" asked Auntie Lou.
"I don't know. I'll have to think on it while I'm chorin. Boy-I gotta get chorin; too!"
I pulled myself away from fondlin' my puppy.
"Gramps, would you mind sorta watchin' her while I do the chores?"
Gramps grinned.
"She does look a little sleepy, doesn't she? Maybe I'll just take her in on my bed so that she can catch a little nap:"
I handed the puppy to Gramps and watched as he walked to his room, talkin' softly to her.
"Thanks, Josh," whispered Auntie Lou. "He is so tired-I've been worried. I was afraid that if he went chorin' with you tonight, it would be jest too much for him."
"Is he sick?" I asked anxiously.
"No, jest tired" Auntie Lou shook her head.
"As soon as you left for school this mornin' Josh, Gramps left for town to find you another pup. I don't know how far he walked before gettin' a ride. When he got to town he walked the streets lookin' for a dog with pups. This was the only litter he found and they were really too young to wean, but Mrs. Sankey, the owner, finally let Gramps take his pick from the lot. He tried 'em, one by one, to see if he could find one that would drink from a saucer. This was the smallest one of the bunch, but she caught on quickly 'bout how to lap up milk. Gramps walked home carryin' her. She's pretty special, josh"
I nodded. She was special all right. Seemed like she should be called "Miracle" or "Love-gift" or something like that.
I sneaked to Gramps' door. I wanted to tell him thank-you if I could get it past the lump in my throat.
He was already sleepin'-snorin' softly. The puppy was cuddled up in his arms against his chest. I swallowed again. I'd have to tell him later, and it was sure gonna be hard to put my feelings into fittin' words.
CHAPTER 17
Pixie
I called the puppy Pixie. The name suited her. She was a tiny, playful, and mischievous bit of fur, and we all took to her right away. I didn't bother to build her a doghouse. Everyone liked her so much that it was jest an accepted fact that a little mite like her couldn't sleep out of doors. Maybe it was because Grandpa and Uncle Charlie had a soft spot for raisin' babies. At any rate we fixed a box for Pixie near the kitchen stove where she could snuggle down in Gramps' old gray sweater during the day.
At night I took her up to bed with me and no one protested. I wasn't sure if it was for my comfortin' or that of the dog's, that they let me get away with it-but they did.
She was smart all right and from the start she entertained us. My whole world about turned around her, and I had to really take myself in hand to get my thoughts on other things.
Gramps reminded me again of Auntie Lou's comin' birthday, and together one night we composed a letter for SueAnn. I carefully tucked it into my pocket; I'd deliver it to Willie the next day.
SueAnn wasn't long in replying. She and some of the other girls would be more than happy to help with a party. She suggested a corn roast and said that the girls would be glad to care for the lunch. If Gramps could see that there was wood for the fire, they'd do the rest.
Gramps was pleased with the letter. He sat down right away and wrote to her again, confirming the plans and setting the date. He pulled a bill from a small box in his dresser drawer and tucked it in with the letter; the money would help the girls with their expenses for the refreshments. I took that letter to Willie, too, and he took it home to SueAnn.
Uncle Charlie and Grandpa finished the stackin' of the greenfeed and the good fall weather still held.
I had only a few chores that were my responsibility now. Uncle Charlie took over most of them again, and Auntie Lou took back the carin' for her chickens.
The last vegetables of the garden were dug and were carefully stored in the root cellar. Odd jobs for the final preparations for winter were finished. It about got to the place that it wouldn't have mattered none if a storm had decided to strike-even though we'd take all of the fair weather that we could get-but none did.
The only thing that we really were concerned about was Auntie Lou's coming party. If we could jest hold onto the good weather until after that, then we'd take whatever the season decided to send our way.
We men managed to find some talkin' time as we finished up the chores one night. Gramps had clued in Grandpa and Uncle Charlie about the plans for the party before we had written SueAnn. They were pleased about it and anxious to be a part of the action.
The party was set for a Saturday night-Lou's birthday. We decided to work in a trip to town as early as we could get away Saturday mornin. Then we could give Auntie Lou her gifts and have our own little celebration at supper-and maybe throw her off the scent.
I gathered the coins that I had managed to collect. They didn't make much of a pile. I finally got up the nerve to ask Gramps if he'd mind if I threw in the two dimes, seein' that we wouldn't be doin' anymore fishin' before winter, anyway. He said that that would be fine and I felt a little better.
When we got to the store, we did an awful lot of lookin' before we made up our minds.
Uncle Charlie finally settled on a shawl. It was a lacy-lookin' thing. Didn't look much for warmth but it sure was pretty.
Grandpa chose a new dress. It was cream colored with pink ribbons here and there and lots of lace for trimmin. I could jest imagine what Auntie Lou would look like in it.
I found a lace handkerchief that really drew
my eye, but when I counted my money, I didn't have enough. I kept on lookin. I never did spot anything else as pretty as the handkerchief, and I was still lookin' when the rest were ready to go.
Uncle Charlie saw me eyein' the hanky, and I guess he figured out real quick what the problem was. I felt him slip some coins into my pocket. With mine, it paid for the handkerchief and left a nickel over. I studied the candy as Mrs. Kirk wrapped up the handkerchief, but then I turned away from it, determined to give Uncle Charlie back his nickel.
We met Gramps outside at the wagon. He'd been down the street to another store and made his purchase there. On the way home he showed it to me.
"It sure is pretty all right;' I agreed. "What's it for?"
"It's a box to keep jewelry in:"
I didn't know whether to tell him or jest let it pass. Finally I said it.
"Looks like a first-rate jew'ry box, Gramps, but there's only one problem."
Gramps looked up at me funny-like.
"She don't got none;' I whispered.
Gramps jest shook his head and smiled.
"But she will have," he said. "She will have"
Maybe that was the smart way to go, I decided. You get the box first and then you get the jew'ry.
We could hardly wait to finish the chores. Even Pixie took second place to Auntie Lou's birthday.
Lou knew that she was expected to have a cake ready for herself. She had been bakin' the birthday cakes in this house ever since she was big enough to use the oven. She had her cake ready and sittin' in the middle of the table. We all grinned at it and could hardly wait to get the meal over with.
We gave Auntie Lou our gifts jest before she cut the cake. They let me be first. I presented her with the handkerchief.
"Oh, Josh;' she cried, "it's jest beautiful! Where'd you ever get enough money to buy such a pretty one?"
I looked at Uncle Charlie. He stared at me blankly like he didn't know a thing about it. Auntie Lou gave me a warm hug.
She opened Uncle Charlie's shawl next and that really set her eyes to sparklin' Uncle Charlie got a hug, too, which he seemed mighty pleased about.