The only father Charlie had ever known was cruel, unfair, and judgmental and now his future had been placed in the hands of an all-powerful Heavenly Father, who would judge his worthiness. He hoped that what Mable said was true, that ‘God is love.’ He was also reminded of what Reverend Beck had proclaimed in many of his sermons, that ‘we are to fear God,’ and he was indeed afraid.
Mable assured him that two weeks separation was the right thing to do for both of them. “I’ll be praying every day,” she told him. “I suggest you do the same. If God isn’t in this marriage, then it will fail.”
Charlie wasn’t opposed to prayer. As far as he could tell, praying to God was one sided. “I do all the talking and hope the Lord is listening. How do I know if he’s for me or against me if he never says anything?” In his current predicament, he needed something more than just talking to an invisible deity. He required audible words of encouragement and hope from a flesh and blood human being. Again he turned to Russell Miller.
When Charlie arrived back at the Miller farm, Russell was carrying a basket of yellow squash and zucchini he had just picked from the garden. “Hey, Polk. How did it go?”
The look on Charlie’s face answered the question.
“Let’s go on inside. You look like you just lost your best friend.”
They sat at the kitchen table where Charlie told his story. Russell was surprised at the unexpected outcome but encouraged his young friend to be patient and follow Mable’s advice to trust God. “It’s in the Lord’s hands now. Faith requires patience.”
Unbeknownst to the two men, Cilla was standing just outside the kitchen, just long enough to hear that the Showns had given their blessing and Charlie had proposed to Mable. She was devastated at the news and quickly returned to her room where she cried herself to sleep.
In the middle of the night she awakened, no less troubled by the bad news, but with a different perspective. She was no longer grieving. Now she was angry, furious that a girl, far less qualified, had beat her in the battle for Charlie’s heart. As Cilla considered her advantages over Mable, she decided that Charlie Polk must be a fool or blind or just plain stupid. How could he not see that she was prettier, more fun, wealthier, and probably even smarter than Mable? And she was willing to bet that given the chance, she would definitely be a far superior bed partner than that cold fish, Mable Shown.
“Charlie Polk has rejected me for the last time,” she reasoned. “He will pay for what he’s done.” And with those thoughts she devised a plan to hurt him as badly as he had hurt her. She never wanted to see him again and for that to happen, she must get him off the Miller farm. He came here with nothing and he’s going to leave with nothing.
Monday afternoon, while Charlie tended to sick animals, Cilla put her plan into action. First, she removed a metal box from the kitchen pantry where her father kept the farm's earnings, removed its contents and hid the money under a towel in a basket. Next, she told her mother that she was going to gather eggs from the hen house. Along the way, she made a stop at Charlie’s cabin where she placed the farm money in a box under the bed where he kept his savings. She made one more stop at the hen house and returned home with a basket of eggs.
As was his custom, Russell started Tuesday morning with a trip to Woodstock, where he purchased supplies and deposited the previous week’s earnings at the First National Bank.
When he arrived at the bank, he handed his metal box to the clerk for processing.
“Sorry, Mr. Miller. The box is empty,” said the clerk.
“Empty. Counted it myself like always on Sunday. Better than $130 was in it.”
“No, sir. Not a penny.”
When Russell returned home, he shared the disturbing news with Hannah. “Seen anybody messing with the box?”
“All I saw was Charlie when he came in with what he took in on Friday.”
“If that don’t beat all.”
Cilla now advanced the final phase of her scheme. “What’s for breakfast?” she asked interrupting her parent’s conversation.
“I was going to fry up some of those eggs you brought in yesterday with some middling meat,” said her mother while retrieving a cast iron skillet from the cupboard.
“Sounds good. I’m starved.”
The open metal box was sitting on the table.
“What you doing, Daddy? Counting your money?”
“No. Actually, I’m wondering what happened to it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Money’s gone. Have you seen anybody in here fooling with the box?”
“Saw Charlie in here yesterday taking a stack of money out of the box.”
“Why on earth would he be doing that?”
“Figured you told him to take it.”
“Did you see what he did with it?”
“Watched him from the porch. Best I could see he went straight to his cabin.”
“Does he still keep his savings under his bed?”
“How would I know? Why don’t you ask him?”
Russell jumped up from his chair, rushed out the door, and headed for the barn where Charlie was closing up for the day. Hannah followed behind but Cilla, who normally would jump at the chance to pay a visit to Charlie, retreated to her bedroom.
“Calm down, Russell. You don’t know he did nothing wrong,” said Hannah trying to keep up.
“Nothing more low down than a thief.”
When Charlie saw the Millers coming down the hill toward the barn he waved but observed that Russell was upset about something.
“Hey, Polk. We need to talk.”
As Charlie pushed the barn door shut, he turned to greet his friend.
“I want the truth and I want it now?” said Russell gruffly.
“What going on?”
“Money’s missing from the pay box.”
“Had cash in it when I last saw it.”
“When was that?”
“Friday, like always.”
“Is that right? Where do you keep your money?”
“You don’t think I took it do you?”
“Why don’t we just find out? You still keep your savings under your bed?”
“Yes, but that’s kind of personal.”
“So is stealing a working man’s money.”
“Well, I ain’t got nothing to hide…”
Before Charlie could finish his sentence Russell stomped off toward the cabin.
“You’re just wasting your time,” said Charlie hurt by the false accusation. “Can’t believe you would think I could do such a thing.”
Once inside the cabin Russell pointed toward the bed. “Show me that box you keep your money in.”
Charlie knelt down by the bed and retrieved the wooden box in which he kept his savings. “Here. Been saving it for a while. Expect there’s a good bit in there but I earned it all, every bit of it.”
When Russell pulled back the lid, he found a roll of cash tied with a string. “Well, will you look at this? Looks to be about the $134 that’s missing. Here, Hannah. You count it while I keep my eye on my business partner.”
It saddened Hannah to break the news. “$134, even.”
“Don’t know how that got there,” protested Charlie. “I didn’t put it there.”
“I took a chance on you, Polk, but like they say, ‘the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.’ You ain’t no better than your daddy.”
“This is crazy. Why would I put money in the pay box on Friday and come back and take it back on Monday? Don’t make no sense.”
“What should I do here, Hannah? At least I got my money back.”
Hannah shrugged her shoulders and spoke softly. “Just know that I’m really disappointed in you, Charlie. I expected better.”
While Russell considered an appropriate punishment for the perceived misdeed Charlie continued his passionate plea. “Somebody did this. Someone who knew about my savings box set me up.”
“Tell you what, Polk. Load up what you can on yo
ur horse, get off my property, and I don’t ever want to see your sorry face again.”
“I didn’t take your money. I’m not like that. There’s got to be another explanation.”
“Leave now or I’m calling the sheriff. Now, I’m going to be sitting on my back porch with my shotgun. If you’re not out of here in 30 minutes, I’m going to put it to good use. Shooting a thief ain’t against the law in Virginia. Oh, and I forgot to tell you the most important thing. You’re fired.”
Just as he said, Russell sat in his rocking chair with his shotgun on his lap, while his distraught former employee gathered all he could in a feed sack.
“This can’t be happening,” thought Charlie. Only two days before, he was on top of the world. He had made a monumental climb from the depths of misery and poverty to a place of good reputation, a respectable income, and good a woman who loved him. Suddenly all those things that made his life worth living were gone. He was crushed and pushed to the limit of his emotional stability.
As he passed the Miller house one last time, he thought he saw Priscilla looking out an upstairs window. He wondered if she knew the reason for his sudden departure and if so, why didn’t she come to his defense? A moment later, he was back on that all too familiar road, the road to who-knows-where.
Broken – May 1919
Few things hurt a good man more than to be falsely accused, especially by those closest to him. There wasn’t anyone that Charlie respected and admired more than Russell Miller. Why wouldn’t Russell even give him the opportunity to prove his innocence? How could he possibly think that Charlie was just like his daddy?
Charlie reasoned that he had given his all for the Millers and did everything they asked of him and more. The vet business turned into the biggest source of income for the farm and Charlie didn’t have to split those earnings with Russell. All those customers would have followed him wherever he set up shop.
“What’s the use in striving to be good when you’re treated as if you are bad?” he wondered. “Maybe that’s why there are so many bad people. It’s just easier. People are just going to think badly of you anyway so just give them what they want.”
Frustration turned to anger as Charlie considered his predicament. “It will serve that old buzzard right to fire me. Russell Miller just lost his cash cow. He ain’t never going to find a better worker than me. I’m tired of being everybody’s whipping boy. Took it from my daddy and I sure ain’t going to take it from Russell Miller or anybody else. Ain’t no point in Mable waiting two weeks for God to tell her if I’m unfit to be her husband. Why, I don’t even have a job.”
Charlie was even angry with God. “How could you let this happen? Thought you could be trusted. Reverend Beck told us that you ‘work all things together for good.’ Sure didn’t work out good for me. He also said that ‘The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.’ Well, you sure do. You gave me a good life and then you took it all away.”
Thirty minutes into his tirade it occurred to Charlie that he had no idea where he was going. Unlike the time he was kicked off his daddy’s farm, he had a little money and decided to continue toward Mt. Jackson. He could catch a train there and just go somewhere far away.
Upon arrival at the train station, Charlie wondered how he might properly dispose of Blackie, his horse. He couldn’t just leave him at the terminal. Possibly he could find a buyer, but that didn’t seem likely so late in the evening. As he sat on a bench, now considerably more rational than when he was on the road, he realized that it would be foolish to run from his problems. He reasoned that problems have a way of finding you wherever you go.
“What do you think, Blackie? What’s your take on this mess?”
Blackie turned his head to the left and snorted.
“You want me to go that way?”
The horse responded by bobbing his head up and down.
“South? Been thinking about going in that direction myself. Time to pay the Wisslers a visit.”
Charlie spent the night at the Traveler’s Inn next to the train station. Next morning, he mounted Blackie for the two mile trip to Strathmore House.
The events of the previous day played over and over again in his mind. It was obvious that somebody was out to get him, but who? The culprit would have to know where he kept his savings and where Russell Miller kept his pay box. Curiously, only the Miller family had access to that information but it seemed unlikely that any of them would want to hurt him. Who could possibly hate him that much? The only logical suspect was his daddy. Maybe Bill Polk hired somebody to do his dirty work for him.
The gray clouds on that overcast Virginia day seemed appropriate for his melancholy. The only positive thought to come to mind was that Mable’s two-week separation came at a good time. He still wasn’t pleased with her need to hear from God on the matter, but it did keep the Showns from knowing about his alleged thievery.
Charlie was determined to make his Strathmore appearance as inconspicuously as possible, so he headed for the rear entrance near the kitchen. Ruthy the Cook greeted him at the door.
“What do you want?” she said obviously irritated by the presence of a stranger at her back door. “We ain’t buying if you’re selling something.”
“Came to see my friend, Frank.”
“We got two of them here. Which one do you want? Big Frank or Little Frank?”
“I guess that would be Little Frank. Tell him Charlie Polk wants to see him.”
“Hold on. He ain’t no early riser.”
Ruthy shut the door in Charlie’s face and left him standing outside for quite some time, so long, in fact, that Charlie was just about to knock on the door again when suddenly Frank appeared.
“Polk. Everything alright?”
“I’ve been better.”
“You had breakfast?”
“No. Can’t say that I have.”
“Miss Ruthy, how about whipping up some breakfast for me and my friend?”
Ruthy mumbled something unintelligible and then grabbed a cast iron skillet off the kitchen table and banged it onto the stove.
“Don’t go to no trouble on my account,” said Charlie, who was in no mood for making somebody else mad at him.
“That’s just Ruthy being Ruthy. Just compliment her cooking and she’ll be purring like a kitten. What brings you here?”
“Guess Cilla filled you in on what happened yesterday.”
“No. I called her last night. Said she didn’t feel like talking. What happened?”
“Russell fired me.”
“What?”
Charlie explained the humiliating events of the previous day and then he told Frank about Mable’s surprising response to his proposal. “I was just minutes from buying a one-way ticket out of town and then I remembered what you said about giving me a job at Strathmore.”
Frank was shocked by Charlie’s story and concerned that Cilla neglected to tell him about what happened. He also thought it was strange that there were now two marriage proposals on the table and neither had been accepted. “What is wrong with these women?” he asked. “Why can’t they make up their minds?”
Ruthy sat a plate of eggs, sausage, and toast in front of Charlie. “They need time to plan how they’re gonna fix you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” said Frank.
“Ever since they were little girls they’ve been dreaming about Mr. Perfect and then fellas like you come along and they realize that you ain’t it. They need time to calculate what it will take to mold you into the man of their dreams. If they decide it ain’t possible to fix you then the answer in a big old fat ‘no.’”
Charlie chuckled at Ruthy’s theory. “My girl put me off cause she’s waiting for a sign from God.”
“Lawdy, Lawdy, boy. That girl thinks you’re a lost cause and she’s turned to God for help.”
“About that job,” said Charlie. “It’s alright if you can’t help. I’ll find something elsewhere.”
“Of course he’s gonna fin
d you a job,” said Ruthy while feverishly scrubbing a pot. “The Wisslers have been taking in strays for years.”
“You were about the first stray granddaddy took in, weren’t you, Ruthy,” said Frank amused at Ruthy’s meddling.
“You still ain’t too big for me to swat your bottom. Get on out of here and find this boy a job.”
“Come on, Polk. Let’s go where we can talk in private.”
Damaged Goods – May 28, 1919
Charlie was troubled by Frank’s avoidance of the job request and he was reluctant to bring up the issue a third time. He wondered if he was wrong to come to Strathmore. Maybe he should have boarded that train.
“Let’s go for a walk,” said Frank, who led Charlie through the flower garden to a gazebo that overlooked the Shenandoah River. “This is where I come to think. That bridge down there is my inspiration.”
“How so?”
“When Granddaddy Frank decided to go in the apple business he needed a faster way of getting his produce to market. The solution to his problem was to build Meems Bottom Bridge. Everybody thought he was crazy for building a giant wooden bridge. Lots of folks made fun of him, called him Noah.”
“Why did they call him Noah?”
“Take a look at it. Looks like Noah’s Ark. They stopped laughing when he started beating them to market.”
“I’ll bet.”
“I want you to know that I think you’re telling the truth about the stolen money, but I also know how my daddy and Uncle John feel about damaged goods. It’s like a barrel of apples. Fresh off the tree they’ll bring top dollar but once they go bad, those same apples have lost their value.”
“So, I’m damaged goods.”
“Afraid so and I don’t know if either one of them are willing to risk hiring you. Whether you like it or not, you are your father’s son.”
“I’m telling you, I’m innocent. I didn’t steal Russell Miller’s money.”
“Didn’t say you did but that’s not going to stop other folks from thinking it. They’ll say you’re ‘just a chip off the old block.’”
In the Valley of Hope Page 24