In the Valley of Hope

by Richard Weirich

  “What’s for desert,” said Moses. “Don’t know where that girl got such notions. Sure wasn’t in this house.”

  “We've got German Chocolate cake that I baked and mama made a big old apple pie,” said Mable as she cut ample servings of both to place before Charlie.

  With the meal concluded Moses led Charlie into the parlor for more stories while the women cleared the table and washed dishes.

  “Pine Church is haunted.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Don't ever go in there by yourself after dark? They say it's the ghost of Parson Daniels who got his arm chopped off in the Revolutionary War.”

  “Did you ever see him?”

  “Oh, yeah. Quite a few times. Scariest thing you ever did see. It's like he's looking for something.”

  “What's he looking for?”

  “Could be looking for his arm or maybe the feller that cut it off. Never stayed around long enough to find out. And then there's all the commotion in the cemetery 'round midnight when there's a full moon.”

  “What kind of commotion?”

  “Laughing, screaming, howling. You never heard such a racket.”

  “Any idea what's causing the noise?”

  “Spooks, I reckon, having a party or something.”

  With the women's duties completed they joined the men in the parlor. Mary grabbed a knitting ball and sat in a rocker while Mable sat by Charlie on the sofa. Soon after, weary from a hard day of yarn spinning, Moses drifted off to sleep.

  “You all just act like I'm not here,” said Mary as she focused on her knitting while monitoring their conversation.

  For the remainder of the afternoon, Mable and Charlie talked and enjoyed just being together. Despite the presence of a very attentive chaperon, and continual loud snoring, they discovered that when love is in the air even the most trivial subject matter can be of the utmost importance. With every word, every expression, and every shared thought, their bond grew deeper.

  About 3 o’clock Mary arose from her chair and looked out the window. “Charlie, we've really enjoyed having you today. It'll be dark soon so you'll need to be on your way. Mable, run into the kitchen and grab that bag of food we fixed up for him.”

  “I appreciate you having me over today and thanks for the delicious meal.”

  “Moses, wake up. Our guest is leaving.”

  Moses stretched and yawned then staggered to his feet to follow Charlie to the door. “Wasn't really asleep, you know. Just resting my eyes.”

  “Yes, sir. That's what I figured,” said Charlie as he shook Moses' hand.

  “Expect you'll be wanting to call on Mable again,” said Mary.

  “Yes, mam. I would like that very much.”

  “Well, you're always welcome to join us for church and dinner, just like today.”

  “Thank you, mam. I'll take you up on that.”

  Mable followed Charlie across the yard to the opposite side of the church where he had hitched his horse. “Will I see you next Sunday?”

  “I'll do my best. If I don't come, it's not because I don't want to. Sometimes there are things that have got to be done on the farm. I'll get here when I can.”

  Prior to climbing into the saddle, Charlie considered if this would be an appropriate time for a kiss. He lingered a moment staring into her beautiful blue eyes.

  “Better be on your way now, Charlie,” said Mable, alerting him that now was not the time for their first kiss. “Here's a little something for the ride home.”

  “Thanks. I'll eat it later.”

  “By the way, the chocolates from the drugstore were delicious.”

  “Did you remember to think about me while you were eating them?”

  “I sure did.” Actually Mable couldn't stop thinking about him.”

  As Charlie road away he thought about how much he enjoyed Mable's company. Just being around her made him feel better about himself. He wasn't particularly fond of Mary's plan for calling on Mable just on Sundays after church, but he was willing to do just about anything to further the relationship, even if it meant becoming a Lutheran.

  Chapter IV – Breaking Away

  No Sympathy from the Devil – September 15-16, 1918

  Darkness had already fallen by the time Charlie made it back home and immediately upon opening the front door his father was in his face.

  “Where have you been all day. Your mama said you went to church. Well, there ain't no goodie-two-shoes church meeting that lasts all day. I had to do my work and yours too. Now get your sorry backside out there and get to work. The barn's a mess and it's your job to clean it up.”

  “It'll wait until morning.”

  “Not if you want to live in this house it won't. Make your choice now. Get to work or pack your bags. I ain't gonna have no laziness.”

  Charlie's mother came to his defense. “Let him do it tomorrow. One day won't hurt nothing.”

  “Shut your mouth woman. I'll let you know when I need you. So, what is it? You gonna work or hit the road? And if you do decide to leave don't expect to ever set foot on this property again.”

  Charlie looked to his mother for a sign as to what he should do and then he glanced at his sisters watching the showdown from the kitchen. Not long ago he was in God's house and now he was back home in his father's hell.

  “You want a piece of me don't you,” said Bill seeing the anger in Charlie's eyes. “Give me your best shot.”

  “I just had one of the best days of my life with some of the finest people I've ever been around and I'm not going to let you spoil it.”

  “Did you hear that Mary, we're not fine people?”

  “I didn't say that.”

  “Why don't you get some of those fine people over here to help you clean the manure out of the barn?”

  Before he was provoked into doing something he would regret Charlie slammed the door behind him and headed for the barn. Once alone he calmed himself down by thinking about Mable, her sweet spirit, and kindness. After a while, he started cleaning the stalls and worked until late at night. With the task completed he grabbed an old woolen blanket and fashioned a bed on the hay.

  Charlie was awakened by beams of light shining through spaces between the boards that formed the walls of the old bar.255 Then he heard a sound more annoying than the rooster that signaled the start to every work day. Bill Polk was calling Charlie's name. “Charlie, where are you.”

  When Bill pushed the barn door open, he found Charlie just getting up from his slumber. “Missed a mighty fine breakfast this morning. Don't expect there's anything left. Once you finish slopping the hogs and milking the cows, head on down by the road and start mending the fence before the cattle get out. I'll be down later to make sure you're doing it right.”

  Another happy day on the farm, thought Charlie as he gathered materials and tools he would need for repairing the fence. One day he's gonna be sorry for treating me the way he does.

  All morning long through all of his chores Charlie grumbled to himself. The more he thought about the way his father treated him, the angrier he got. Even thinking about Mable had little effect on his mood. Tired and hungry he went to the back door of the farmhouse where his mother kept a bucket of table scraps for feeding the hogs.

  “Hey, Charlie. Missed you at breakfast,” his mother said. “I was surprised when your daddy told me that you weren't hungry this morning. It'll make the hogs happy, though.”

  On top of the repulsive mixture in the slop bucket, Charlie saw table scraps mixed with soured milk, meal, and a pile of biscuits and gravy left over from the morning meal.

  “Charlie, are you alright?” he heard his mother say as he stomped toward the hog pen. He just kept right on walking as she kept calling to him. “Charlie? Are you alright? Are you alright?”

  Around the barn he marched, passed the pump house, beyond the smoke house, behind the chicken coop, and then down a path leading to the garden where he saw his father repairing a broken wagon.

  �
�Thought I told you to be working on the fence today. What are you doing here?”

  “You forgot to finish your breakfast this morning,” said Charlie as he dumped the large bucket of hog slop onto his father's boots. “Didn't want you to go hungry. Hope you like it.”

  Man that felt good, thought Charlie as he headed back to the barn to hitch the mule to his wagon and retrieve what he needed for mending the fence. In the distance, he could hear a cursing tirade sufficient to have won a blue ribbon at the Shenandoah County Fair. He knew that his retaliation would not go unchallenged but, at least for now, he had some satisfaction standing up to the bully.

  For the remainder of the morning, Charlie worked at repairing the fence that had been damaged by a falling tree. The first order of business was to cut the tree away from the fence which was no easy task for a man working alone with a handsaw and an ax.

  From time to time his stomach growled reminding him of his growing hunger. Mable's German Chocolate cake would sure taste good right about now, he thought as he removed branches from the fallen tree.

  Occasionally someone would pass by in a wagon or on horseback and would stop to chat which gave Charlie a welcome break from his hard labor. While unhitching the mule from his wagon, he heard the roar of an automobile engine and in the distance he could see a cloud of dust headed toward him. Soon a green automobile emerged and he knew who was headed his way. Only one person in the Valley had a car like that. Charlie stopped what he was doing and walked to the side of the road and the driver beeped his horn to greet him.

  “Charlie Polk, you're always working.”

  “Frank Wissler. If you ain't a sight for sore eyes. What brings you to my neck of the woods?”

  “Fella we buy our barrels from lives out this way.”

  Frank turned off his engine so they could talk. “Plan on moving that tree all by yourself?”

  “Once I get a few more limbs off I'll hitch the mule to it.”

  “That'll work. How you been?”

  “Same old thing. Had another run-in with the old man last night.”

  “Sorry to hear that. You know you've got a job over at Strathmore waiting on you if you want it.”

  “Been thinking about it but don't know much about fruit tree farming.”

  “Uncle John's gotten into the cattle business. I'll ask him if he's hiring. So, what did your daddy get mad about this time?”

  “Took some time off yesterday to go to church. Then I spent the afternoon at Mable Showns with her and her family.”

  “How about that? So you finally got the nerve up to go see her.”

  “Ran into her the day you dropped me off in Mt. Jackson. Went into the drugstore and there she was. We got to talking and she invited me over.”

  “So how is she? What's she look like?”

  “She's right attractive and sweet as ever.”

  “We ought to find Cilla and the four of us get together, go on a picnic or something. Shouldn't be hard to run her down. You think she's still living at home?”

  “I wouldn't be surprised if she ain't married by now.”

  “I'll stop by the Miller Farm when I get a chance. Hey, do you like hoop cheese from over at Crable's Store. Got enough here to feed a small army. I'm crazy about this stuff.”

  “Right fond of it myself.”

  Frank broke off a sizable hunk of cheese and dumped some crackers into a paper bag.

  “Grab some apples from that basket in the backseat.”

  “That's mighty nice of you. Heard anything from the draft board?”

  “Not a word. How about you?”

  “Nothing yet.”

  “Got to run. We've got to get a shipment off to Richmond today. I'll get with you if I run into Cilla.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Sitting on the back of the wagon, Charlie enjoyed his unexpected meal. The gentle breeze and the beauty of the mountains in the distance were a reminder that the storms of life are only temporary. He felt an unexplained feeling of hope that things were about to change, and that somewhere out there in that great panoramic landscape God had planned something special for him. Then he laughed. The encouraging thoughts that entered his mind sounded just like something Mable would say. Oh, my gosh. I'm falling in love with that girl.

  The Job Interview – September 19, 1918

  Since Monday's showdown with his father the two had not talked. Charlie didn't know how long the peace would last, but it was a welcome change from the usual order of business at the farm.

  Every Thursday Charlie traveled to Edinburg to purchase farm and food supplies. After his usual morning ritual of feeding the livestock and milking the cows, he stopped in the house to get his mother's shopping list.

  “You got a letter yesterday,” said his mother.

  “Oh, no. Probably from the draft board.”

  “Don't think so. I'd say it's from a girl.”

  Charlie's heart began to race with excitement at the prospect of a letter from Mable but then he had a most unpleasant thought. There were only two people in the house who could read and write, his mother and his 11-year-old sister, Myrtle. Which one of them would he be willing to reveal the contents of his letters from a girlfriend? More importantly, which one of them was more capable of writing back?

  “Did you want me to read it to you?”

  “No, thanks. I'll make time for it later. Got to get into town.”

  He fetched the letter from the kitchen table and headed outside where he saw his sister feeding the chickens. “Hey, Myrtle. Come over here. I need to talk to you.”

  While preparing the wagon for his trip to town, Myrtle read the letter to him.

  “Dear, Charlie. You just left, but I wanted to get a message to you as soon as possible. I hope you enjoyed our time together as much as I did. There are so many things I want to tell you and I hope you can make it again on Sunday for church. I kept the box from the chocolates you gave me and every time you write me a letter back I'll keep it in the box. You will write me won't you? I hope that crazy talk from Pearl didn't make you mad. If it did, please don't be mad at me. I'm looking forward to seeing you again on Sunday. Sure hope you'll come. I'll be praying for you every day. Can't wait for your letter. Your friend, Mable.”

  “Swear you won't tell anybody about this letter. Especially, Daddy.”

  “My lips are sealed. You gonna write her back?”

  “You know I can't write.”

  “Tell me what to write and I'll write it for you.”

  “I've never done anything like this before.”

  “Well, neither have I.”

  “Just write something nice. Write things you think I should say to a girl I really like. ”

  The letter writing campaign began with the help of a child with a fifth-grade education. Myrtle thought her creative writing project was great fun but kept her mission strictly confidential. She borrowed her mother's book of poems and threw in an occasional romantic verse. Even her old geography book proved a valuable tool for writing about places that Charlie wished they could someday visit together. Undoubtedly, Mable was pleasantly surprised at how much knowledge Charlie had retained from his brief education at Stover School and more than a little impressed with his tender words of friendship and romance. She kept every letter in the Whitman's Chocolate box that he gave her, a prized possession that she would hold onto for the rest of her life.

  Encouraged by Mable's letter and Myrtle’s willingness to help, Charlie boarded his wagon and headed for Edinburg for his weekly shopping trip.

  His first stop was at Bowman's Feed Store, where he listened with great interest to a conversation about America's involvement in World War I.

  “I heard that the government's keeping the farmer's out of the war, because we're needed here,” said one old man sitting on a barrel.

  “Soldier's got to eat,” said another. “Hope it's over soon and our boys can come home. War's an awful thing.”

  “How you doing today, Charlie?” sa
id the store clerk.

  “I guess about as good as I'm ever going to get.”

  “Did you want to put this on your daddy's bill or pay it today?”

  “Put it on his bill, please.”

  “Russell Miller was in here asking about you today.”

  “What did he want with me?”

  “Said he heard that you came to the store every Thursday morning and he intends to talk to you.”

  “What about?”

  “Didn't say?”

  “You know him?”

  “I've heard of him. Went to school with his daughter a long time ago.”

  “Wants to meet you at the Livery Barn at 10.”

  “What's he look like?”

  “Taller than most and ain't got a hair on his head.”

  Charlie finished loading his wagon and stopped by Lee's General Store to pick up some canned goods requested by his mother. He also purchased a pound each of his favorite candies, chocolate drops and horehound drops, which he munched on while waiting for Russell Miller.

  He found a bench outside the Livery Barn where he could see all who entered and departed. A man matching the description given by the store clerk at the General Store strolled out of the barn and looked to be watching for someone.

  “Mr. Miller,” said Charlie.

  “Yes. Charlie Polk?”

  “Yes, sir,” Charlie said while rising from the bench and walking toward the man.

  Russell Miller shook Charlie's hand. “Guess you've been wondering why I wanted to talk with you.”

  “Yes, sir. Did make me a tad curious.”

  “Frank Wissler paid me a visit a few days back and he had a lot of good things to say about you.”

  “Frank and I go way back. He's a good man.”

  “Actually he came by to see Cilla, my daughter. As I understand it, the three of you went to school together as kids.”

  “Yes, sir. We sure did.”

  “Anyway, Frank asked me if I was looking for a good farm hand and then he went on to tell me that you are about the best there is.”

  “That might be stretching it a bit.”