Seasons of the Heart: Omnibus

Home > Other > Seasons of the Heart: Omnibus > Page 21
Seasons of the Heart: Omnibus Page 21

by Janette Oke


  I followed, just a bit hesitantly. I wasn't sure whether I'd won the round or not. Did Uncle Nat understand the need of a boy to get off on his own? Would he support me if it came to convincing the rest of the family?

  We were almost to the house before he reached out a hand and let it rest on the top of my shoulder.

  "Sounds like a great idea to me;" he commented. "If I didn't have so many duties here at the church this week, I'd be right tempted to join you"

  I let out my breath in a whoosh. Uncle Nat was on my side! That should count for something, at least. For the first time, I began to hope that I really might get to go.

  CHAPTER 3

  A Little Help

  All the way out to the farm the next morning, Saturday, I felt my insides squirming a bit. I don't know why I was so nervous. I guess I wanted that camping trip far more than I supposed I would. I mean, I had never even thought of going camping until the day before when Avery suggested it, and now I was all het up about it. At the time I didn't even stop to wonder about Avery. He had never been one to care much for the out-of-doors that I was aware of. He didn't even like to fish, and yet here he throws out this surprise dream of his. But, as I said, I didn't think about that side of it till later.

  I was busy thinking about me. More than anything in the world I wanted that camping trip. I don't know when I had ever wanted anything so much in my life except maybe when I had wanted a dog. Or when I had wanted to keep Aunt Lou instead of marrying her off to some local fella who wouldn't even fully appreciate what he was getting.

  Well, I had my dog. Gramps had seen to that. I held Pixie closer to my chest and stroked the soft hair under her chin while she wiggled and strained against me. Even she, who loved to be cuddled, didn't like being held that close.

  And as for Aunt Lou's marrying, when it came right down to it, I highly approved of the fella she had chosen. I felt pretty close to Uncle Nat myself. In fact, I dared to hope he might put in a word for me if it came down to arguing my case with the three menfolk at the farm.

  We turned the horse and buggy down the lane, and my stomach did another turn as well. It wouldn't be long now until I would know one way or the other.

  Grandpa met us at the front gate that opened up to the old farm home. He smiled his welcome from ear to ear and reached out to hug Aunt Lou. She had her arms full of baking like she always did when she visited the farm, but she accepted the hug anyway, giving Grandpa a kiss on his weathered cheek. Then Grandpa shook Nat's hand firmly and turned to me.

  "So yer without a teacher, eh, Boy?" he said.

  He still called me "boy" even though I felt I had outgrown that name. Still, I didn't resent it none the way Grandpa said it.

  I just nodded my head.

  "We heard the news;' Grandpa said to Uncle Nat. "Was plannin' to come on in an' pick josh up this mornin' Hope it didn't mean a special trip for ya.

  Uncle Nat just smiled. "Lou was anxious to come out and check on you anyway. I had some time this morning, and we plan to stop in at the Curtises on the way back to town and see that new baby."

  We were met on the porch by Gramps, who patted my shoulder and hugged Aunt Lou. I could hear Uncle Charlie clattering dishes in the kitchen and guessed it was his turn for kitchen duties. He stepped to the door, dish towel in one hand and a pot in the other.

  After our hellos Lou moved to set down her baking and put on the coffeepot. It didn't matter how long it was between visits, she still took over the kitchen whenever she stepped in the door.

  We all settled into comfortable spots around the room.

  "So what's this we hear about your school being closed, Joshua?" asked Gramps. Him being from the city and all, he was real interested in my education. The conversation turned to the school and the need for a teacher since Miss Williams up and left to marry her longtime sweetheart.

  "Any idea how long it might be before classes resume?" asked Gramps.

  He was asking Uncle Nat, not me, and I was willing to let him answer.

  "The School Board is already working on it;' Uncle Nat assured him. "They hope they'll have another teacher in the classroom within a week."

  Gramps cleared his throat.

  "It's not the time factor that bothers me;' he stated. "It's the quality of the replacement:"

  All eyes turned to Gramps.

  "Meanin'?" asked Grandpa.

  "Well, I don't want to be borrowing trouble-but any teacher worth his salt would already be placed for this school year, as I see it:"

  I hadn't thought of that, and I guess the others hadn't either, for I saw a few worried looks flicker across the faces around the room.

  "We'll just have to pray," stated Aunt Lou. "If there's a fault in the teacher they find, then well ask the Lord to change her or him;' and she moved to put another stick of wood in the firebox as though everything was now neatly cared for.

  "It'll be nice to have you home for a bit, Boy," Grandpa said to me.

  "Maybe we can get in some fishing," put in Gramps, his eyes twinkling at the thought.

  I nodded. "I'd like that," I stated honestly.

  "Josh has some big plans," Nat said slowly, his eyes on my face to read if I wanted him to bring up the subject or not.

  I nodded slightly so he would know I wanted him to continue. He caught it and cleared his throat to get all the eyes in the room back on him again.

  "Sounds like a good idea to me," Uncle Nat went on. He waited a moment until he was sure everyone was waiting to hear the plan.

  "Josh and some of his friends thought this would be a good time for them to take a little hike up along the creek and spend a few days camping at the spring that feeds it:"

  Before anyone could even open their mouth to respond, Uncle Nat went on. "Sounds to me like it would be a good experience for the boys. They haven't had much chance for camping with the usual fall bringing all kinds of farm work right along with the good weather. Now this fall is different. The good weather has managed to stay right on even after the fall work is all done. Good time for a boy to take a trip on his own"

  Uncle Nat stopped then and all eyes turned back to me.

  Before anyone was able to make some kind of response, Aunt Lou made a dash for the stove where the coffeepot was just about to boil over. The eyes shifted off my face, and I silently thanked the boiling coffee and squirmed some on my chair.

  Aunt Lou filled coffee cups for the menfolk and went about slicing some of her lemon cake.

  It seemed much easier to discuss my plans over coffee and cake and my own brimming glass of Bossie's fresh, cool milk.

  "Didn't realize ya had interests in campin; Boy," remarked Grandpa.

  "Well, I hadn't thought much on it, there being no proper time and all, so it just didn't come to mind. It was Avery who suggested it;' I stated honestly. "Like Uncle Nat said, the time's been too busy when the weather's been good enough:"

  Grandpa nodded.

  "Who ya got to go with ya?" asked Grandpa.

  "Avery, Willie and Jack," I answered.

  I mean for grown folk;' explained Grandpa.

  I hesitated. I didn't know just how to answer. I didn't want to sound sassy or nothing, but I wanted to let him know that boys of fifteen didn't need anyone more grown up than that.

  "Well-ah-we-" I started but Gramps cut in.

  "I reckon a boy who can pitch bundles like a man and shovel grain to keep up to a threshing machine might be about big enough to care for himself," he said matter-of-factly with a twinkle in his eye.

  It was Aunt Lou whose face showed the most concern, though Grandpa didn't look convinced yet either.

  "Where'll you eat?" Aunt Lou asked.

  "Outdoors;" I answered. "We'll take along the food and fix it over an open fire:"

  Aunt Lou started to speak again, but I saw Uncle Nat quietly reach out and press her hand. No one else noticed. Aunt Lou slowly closed her mouth again and clasped Uncle Nat's hand firmly.

  "What do you think?" Grandpa surpris
ed me by asking the question of Uncle Charlie.

  Uncle Charlie took a long swallow of hot coffee, let his chair legs drop to the kitchen floor again, and answered without wavering. "S'pose itd be all right"

  I was sure then that I had won. I wanted to whoop but I didn't dare.

  "I'll give you a hand with the food, Josh;' Aunt Lou offered, and then she checked Uncle Nat's face again to see if he'd consider that interference. A slight flush coloring her cheek, "That is, if you'd like me to," she finished quickly.

  "I'd 'preciate it;' I hastened to inform her. "Me and the boys were hard put to know what to take along, us never havin' done any campin' or much cookin' before an' all."

  "The boys and I;' Aunt Lou corrected me, but her smile took any sting out of the words.

  It seemed to be settled. Grandpa never did really say yes-but he never said no either. After further discussion, it was decided that we could hike up to the spring on one day, spend three nights camped by the small pool at its base, and then return home on the fourth day. Before I knew what was happening all five people around that table were busy planning what I'd need to take along on that camping trip. By the way their list was growing, it sounded to me like I'd need me a wagon to be hauling it all.

  Oh, well! They all meant well. I'd sorta do some sorting through the list myself after they'd had their fun. In the meantime I'd have to get word back to town to the other fellas. We needed to get ourselves going and out on that trip before the School Board announced they'd found us another teacher.

  CHAPTER 4

  Off Camping

  I don't know who was most excited that morning two days later when the three of us hoisted packs on our backs and started off down the trail that led to the crik.

  As it turned out, Jack was unable to join us. We all felt rather sorry for him. His pa had said a determined no-Jack had to stay home and stick to his studies if he was going to be ready for medical school. Jack had been just about sick over it all and, knowing how I'd felt if I'd had to stay home, I felt a little sick myself.

  So it was that Avery, Willie and me packed our gear, with a lot of help and advice and instructions from our families, and started down the treelined path to the crik. I had only one other regret besides Jack's not getting to go-I had to leave Pixie behind. After talking it over with the three menfolk, I just didn't feel like a campsite was a fit place for a tiny little dog like her, and I knew she'd never be able to walk as far as we were planning on walking. With my arms needing to be free and my back loaded down, I knew I'd never be able to carry her either.

  Just before we disappeared from view of our yard, I turned for one more wave. There stood Grandpa, Uncle Charlie, Gramps, and even Uncle Nat and Aunt Lou-they came back out to the farm after the weekend because she didn't want to miss out on any of the excitement-still watching us go. I even saw Aunt Lou blow her nose on her white hankie. You would think we were marching off to war or something. They all looked glad and sad at the same time-happy we were doing something we really wanted to do, and anxious that everything would go alright, and a bit sad that we were growing up.

  We three were feeling anything but sad, though, as we stepped out briskly, hardly able to wait until we got out of sight of everyone so we'd truly feel we were on our own.

  Our steps slowed down soon enough as the morning wore on. The packs on our backs were feeling a mite heavy and the sun was getting a little warm. It wasn't so good underfoot when we left the worn cow path either. The willow shrubs grew right down to the crik bank, and we sorta had to fight our way through them. We didn't want to leave the bank for fear we'd lose track of the crik among all the trees, so we just kept pushing our way through brush and briar.

  I think we all breathed a sigh of relief when we began to see clearing ahead of us and realized the crik was taking us out through the brush and across Turley's cow pasture. The walking would be much easier.

  We had just crawled through the fence and were ready for a better path when Avery groaned real loud, stopped and leaned against a fence post.

  "I say it's time for a break," he stated. Even though Willie and me were still in a big hurry, I guess we were both getting kinda tired, too.

  "We'll rest when we get across the pasture;' Willie stated, but Avery didn't even budge.

  "I'm resting now," Avery informed us, and we knew it was useless to argue. Avery slid the heavy pack from his shoulders and sat down with his back against it. Secretly I wondered how he'd ever make it all the way to the crik mouth if he was already played out, but I said nothing. Fact is, I didn't mind the idea of a bit of rest myself.

  It hadn't been long since Aunt Lou had stuffed us with bacon, eggs and fried potatoes, but Avery seemed to have forgotten that. He reached in his pack and pulled out a handful of Aunt Lou's cookies. Willie and me didn't want to miss out, so we each took a handful, too. The rest, the cookies, and a drink from the crik seemed to refresh us and after several minutes I began to get impatient again. I knew Willie was too, so we suggested to Avery that it might be time to move on again. By my calculation, we'd come only a couple miles and we still had a good piece to go.

  Rather reluctantly, Avery picked up his heavy backpack and tugged the straps on his shoulders. Willie and me both picked up ours, shrugged our way into them, and then started off again, me leading the way on account of being the most familiar with the area. It was much easier walking now. Not only were we out of the heavy brush, but the pastureland had been eaten close by the grazing cattle so even the grass was nice and short.

  The herd of cattle belonging to the Turleys was feeding nearby, but we paid them no heed except to notice how nice and fat they were and how round their red sides looked.

  We had almost reached the other side of the pasture when we heard the awfullest commotion! It sounded like a stampede-and heading our way, too!

  I guess we all wheeled around at the sound, expecting to see that whole herd of cows headed right for us.

  It wasn't the whole herd-but it might as well have been, for there, coming straight for us, his head lowered and his nostrils snorting out little puffs that blew up tiny clouds of dust, came Turleys' big red bull. Say, if you ever wanted to see three fellas move in a hurry, you would've seen it then. We forgot all about our heavy packs and how tired we were. We just lit out for the closest fence as fast as our legs could take us.

  I guess I got there first. I didn't even slow down, but just dropped to the ground and rolled right under that barbed wire with one quick motionpack and all. I heard a sickening tear-sound, and I knew I had ripped the piece of burlap that Aunt Lou had carefully wrapped my pack in. I felt bad about that, but I was powerful happy to be on the other side of the fence from that bull.

  Willie whipped under the fence next and rolled right into me. I guess it was then that both of us looked back to see how Avery was faring.

  Boy, were we scared! Avery was heading for the fence as fast as his legs could carry him, but he never had been too athletic or nothing, and that bull seemed to be gaining every stride.

  "Drop your pack!" I hollered without even stopping to think. If I had, I might have decided that Avery would probably spend more time trying to free himself of that pack than he would save by being rid of it.

  Somehow he managed to get his pack off his back and let it fall while he still kept a-running. It might have been his undoing had not that bull taken a sudden interest in that pack. He stopped chasing Avery and stood there pawing and snorting, and then he charged Avery's dumped load as it lay there on the ground. He hit it with an awful smack and wasn't content with that. He sorta ground his horns into it, then hooked it and tossed it up. When it came down he pawed at it again with a sharp hoof, then threw it back into the air, snorting and puffing and carrying on something awful.

  In the meantime Avery scrambled under the fence to join Willie and me, panting and puffing and deathly white. I felt a little white myself. Especially when I saw how that bull used that pack Avery had left behind. I was sorry to s
ee Avery's bundle being pawed and pushed right into the ground, but I was sure glad it wasn't Avery.

  We lay there trying to collect our wits and quiet our breathing. First I guess we were all just happy to be alive. Then we began to worry some about our supplies.

  We had divided our stuff as evenly as we could. I had my bedding, our pots and pans, dishes and cutlery and my fishing gear. Willie had his blankets, a hatchet for cutting firewood, our matches, a first-aid kit and some of our food supplies. Avery had his blankets and most of the food. So with big eyes and sick stomachs, we lay there watching that bull making a big mess of things.

  "Scrambled eggs;' whispered Willie, a twinkle in his eye in spite of our predicament.

  "Sh-h," Avery hissed, his eye on the bull. "You might make him mad"

  "Mad?" It was my turn to whisper. "He's mad now."

  "Well, madder then," responded Avery.

  "Don't see how he could get any madder;' I insisted. "Look at him rip things up."

  There was nothing we could do about it. We had to lay there and watch that bull have his fun until he decided he had done all the damage he cared to. He left off worrying the pack and came over near the fence and glared at us, still snorting and fuming. We were ready to run, but the scrubby bushes nearby would offer scant protection from this beast. I told the fellas to lay stock-still so we wouldn't rouse that bull up none, and we just held our breath and waited. We sure hoped with all our hearts that the mad bull wouldn't decide to challenge the barbed-wire fence that separated us from him.

  Finally the bull wearied of standing there snorting, and he turned and went back toward the cows, bellowing and blowing as he went. He didn't go far though, and every once in a while he circled back our way and snorted at us again just to remind us that he still knew we were there.

  We couldn't go on. Not without Avery's pack-or what there was left of it. We hoped at least the food Aunt Lou had packed in tins would still be okay and we would be able to salvage enough to make it through the next three days.

 

‹ Prev