The Estate of Essie Grogan

by Kathy Vest Trimble

  Karla stayed for dinner and sat between Benjamin and Sarah. She was head-over-heels in love with her grandchildren and jumped at every chance to spend time with them. She, especially loved talking about gardening with Ben. For a boy his age, he was very knowledgeable and serious about organic methods of growing food. Karla had a green thumb but had never tried to grow organically.

  “So, Ben, how did you learn so much about gardening?”

  “The sisters taught me most of it, but I have learned a lot more from reading the books here in our library. We have two whole shelves of them. And Miss Essie had lots of magazines too. I have some of them in my room and I like to study them at night before I go to sleep. I want to have a nice garden next spring but I’m not sure where to plant it. We don’t have much space. I might have to settle for a couple of raised beds instead of a regular one like we had in Arkansas. All I know is, I am getting excited about getting something growing.”

  “I’m sure you are excited. Raised beds have their merits. They are easier to weed and harvest your food. And fewer animals will get in it and trample the plants down. Of course, you can’t grow as much but you might be surprised by the volume of yield you can get.”

  Chance spoke up and said, “Ben, your problem just might have been solved today. Julie and I bought the empty lot behind us. I just got word that the sellers accepted our offer today. So, tomorrow you will be the proud owner of a garden spot and the small shed that is on the property. I will have it fenced with a gate into our yard. That way, Jolly can follow you without worry of him going into the street.”

  “Really, Daddy? I can have the whole lot for planting gardens and fruit trees? Sarah, please pinch me so I know I am not having a dream.”

  “I will not pinch you, but you are awake and not dreaming. Maybe Grandma will pinch you,” Sarah said with a giggle. Karla did lean over and give him a light pinch on the cheek.

  “When do we get to open our wish boxes?” asked Benjamin.

  “Why are you in such a hurry?” asked Sarah.

  “Because mine is quite full at the moment and I need to see which are keepers. I am pretty sure that some will be relegated to that big bin of broken dreams,” he said with an over-dramatic look of sadness.

  “Tomorrow, then. Bright and early. We will spend our Saturday morning looking through your box of wishes. Some to be granted, some to be returned to the box, and others off to the wish graveyard,” answered Julie.

  The summer passed fast as the family got to know each other. Sarah did learn that she had a particular taste is clothes. She seemed to lean toward plaids and bright colors. Always mindful of Karla’s advice of staying away from red tones. None of Sarah’s wishes were refused. Benjamin had to send a few things, six baby goats, to the dream cemetery and did have to put some of the wishes back in the box for later consideration.

  The children began classes at their new school and made friends quickly. They loved going to school and their teachers.

  As Thanksgiving approached, they thought of the big dinners at the orphanage and were reminded of how they missed the sisters. But, all in all they were happy and thankful for their family.

  This year would be Thanksgiving as the Lightning family with Grandma Karla and The Miller family with Clyde, Peggy, Gracie, and Faith. All celebrating the multitude of blessings. They had called to invite Scudder to join them but he declined. Choosing to stay home with his new friends that he was so thankful for. But, he did take the opportunity to invite them all to Hope Home for Wounded Veterans for a Christmas party to be held on 15 December. He wanted to show them what he had done and introduce them to Dwayne and the others. He wanted them to know that he is okay and is carrying on the work of the sisters and Ms. Essie.

  Scudder and Dwayne sat on the porch having a glass of sweet tea and staring out at nothing but what was going on inside their heads. A small breeze blew and moved the old Hope House sign into action. It creaked on the rusty chains. “I should take that sign down. It brings back too many memories of when the yard was filled with children laughing. This place used to be alive. Now, I feel like you and I aren’t enough to keep this place breathing. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want kids here. I can’t care for little ones. What do you think of us finding more veterans to share our peacefulness with?”

  “I think that would be good to help our fellow wounded warriors. How many can we house here and still be comfortable? It’s your house but I like having my own room. I don’t want to share. We have your room, mine, the little one downstairs, and then the two huge open dorms. I doubt anybody will want to share rooms. We are all damaged goods and need our own space.”

  “You are a good carpenter so, maybe you could make one of the dorms into three rooms. That would mean we could take in four more people and still have breathing room.”

  “We could turn the other big dorm into a recreation room with tables and chairs, maybe even get a pool table. That would still leave room in there to add another bathroom with showers. One bathroom upstairs with five men isn’t going to cut it.”

  “That’s right. It was a pain when I was growing up here and we had all of us kids scrambling for a turn in the bathroom. We would be lined up down the hall doing the pee-pee dance. Now, next question. Where are we going to find these five vets?”

  “We go to the big cities and walk the downtown streets. They are there. Every city has them. We could never sleep in a neighborhood park away from downtown. Residents get nervous and call the police. Homeless folks find an alley or boarded up storefront to sleep and during the day, they are on the corners with signs asking for work or begging for money for food. There is no shortage of homeless vets. Our problem will be sorting through to decide we aren’t helping the wrong ones. Some don’t want to leave the streets. They don’t like rules. That’s why they are on the streets. It is a miserable life but some of us like misery.”

  “We could go down to the V.A. in Fort Smith first. There was a woman trying to get signed up for her benefits when I was waiting for you. She was having the same problem you had. There are probably more like you. Just trying to get what is owed to them but have a little problem of no address standing in their way.”

  “We should start slow and just bring in one at a time. It might take a bit of time to get used to having another person living here. Like it was when I first moved in. We need to be careful who we bring in to this peaceful place. It could go from heaven right straight to hell in a matter of days if we get the wrong guy.”

  “I didn’t think of that, but you’re right. We will both have to agree before we make a deal for anyone to live here permanently. We could tell them they can stay on a temporary basis until they get on their feet. Then if we like them, we can offer a permanent home to them. Will that work?”

  “Yes, I agree. It took me two months to get my benefits coming. I think we can tolerate anyone for two months. We can wait until the available rooms are filled before we turn the dorm into rooms. That will give you some more rent money to set aside for the renovation. I think I could paint the empty rooms now, before we have anyone move in. It will be easier without their personal things in the way. Our rooms could use some freshening up too. Let’s spruce up this place and make it a home for grown men instead of children. I can buy paint.”

  “Why don’t we just sit down at the table with a pencil and pad and plan out a complete renovation and go ahead and do the entire house. We can rip out the carpet and sand the wood floors. Change out the fixtures and redo the kitchen and dining room. You get the picture. How much do you think it would cost to do the whole house including the dorm room changes and adding the bathroom?”

  “Oh, my. If we do all of the work ourselves and don’t have to hire anyone but a plumber and electrician, it could still be upwards of $50,000. So, maybe we just should start with cosmetics like painting and fixing the floors and fixtures. That would be around $2,000.”

  “Well, I say we just bite the bullet and renovate as far as we can go up t
o the $50,000. If we run out of money we will just stop and save up again. I have that in the savings and if we can fix everything nice we will have people paying rent every month. We can start with painting downstairs and fixing the floors. We can go and shop for new furniture and appliances. I think the cabinets just need to be sanded and painted. The bathroom down here just needs paint and a nice rug and curtains. I like the old tub and pedestal sink so I want to keep it. I am getting excited about our new venture.”

  “Are you sure you want to dip into your savings that deep? What if you have an emergency and need money and you spent all of your savings?”

  “I have this peaceful place and my pension every month. You pay rent and I put it in the bank. The V.A. pays for my medical care. We don’t use a lot of things from the store. I think my home is an important asset and I should change it to suit me and my friends. It will make it worth more if we fix it up. I saved almost my entire income for the last year. I can afford this, if you are right about us doing all of the work. I love it here and am looking forward to our home being beautiful.”

  “Okay. Tomorrow we can go to the paint store and pick up some paint chip samples and a couple of carpet knives to get this dirty rug off of the floor. We might rent the floor sander and get some stain and sealer for the wood. What are we going to do with the old furniture in the living room and can we keep the big table in the dining room?”

  “I think the furniture can go up to what will be the recreation room. It’s still good enough to be used up there. We will need to sort through the beds in the dorms and save three of the best ones and donate the others. Yes, the big table in the dining room needs to stay because we will need it once we have a full house. I want to keep this little enamel table here in the kitchen, too.”

  The men spent the next two months painting, sanding, changing out light fixtures, and putting up partitions. They shopped for new furnishings for the living room. The kitchen cabinets got a fresh coat of white paint and the old marble countertops got a good cleaning and new sealer. They installed a new refrigerator with ice and water in the door and a new gas range. The dining room floor got a new coat of stain to match the living room floor. All of the walls in the house were painted a very light gray color and all of the trim and doors were painted white. The stairs and banister were sanded and stained. What had been the girls’ dorm was now three small but tidy bedrooms with a closet, a twin bed, and a chest of drawers and a night stand with a lamp. The old boys’ dorm was now a comfortable recreation room with couches and comfortable chairs along the walls and a long table with chairs in the center. At the far end, just under the wall of windows were bookshelves. The room had been partitioned so as to make room for a large bathroom with three showers, sinks, and three stalls with commodes. The entry to the bathroom was in the hall.

  The entire project was done and they came in under budget at $30,010.52.

  The final touch was waiting out at the front gate. Dwayne went out and took the sign from its post and placed it on the table on the porch. He removed the chains and sanded the sign and painted it white. When it was dry he painted the new name of the house in perfect black lettering. It now read: HOPE HOME for WOUNDED VETERANS. He painted the old post white and put new chains in the sign and hung it back in its rightful place. As a surprise for Scudder he had also, made a plaque to put on the wall beside the front door. Scudder had told him how their endeavor would not be possible, had it not been for a lady named Essie Grogan.

  Essie’s kindness made it so he had this home to grow up in. Without her generosity, he would not be able to help others now. So, Dwayne made a cedar wood plaque and carved this inscription: “This home is dedicated to Essie Grogan who gave freely of her kindness and love for all of Gods creations.”

  He hung it just above the doorbell and waited for Scudder to come out with their evening glasses of tea.

  After much discussion about how to fill the house they decided on asking the V.A. how to proceed. The next day, Scudder and Dwayne decided to go to the Veteran’s Services office and let them know that their veteran’s home was now open and ready to accept one boarder. This would be on a trial basis until both parties decided if it was a good fit. They left an application and a list of house rules with the receptionist. They didn’t have to wait long.

  One week after hanging the sign out front, their first boarder stepped onto the front porch. Unlike Dwayne, Denver Hall was clean-shaven and bald. He was a short little man with a pale sickly complexion. He stated that he had just left the hospital where he had been treated for depression. He had a small bag from the Dollar General Store that held his entire possessions. One pair of socks, a tee shirt, and a pair of underwear. He handed the application to Scudder as he introduced himself. He said he had given all of his things away the day before he woke up in the hospital. His attempt at overdosing on painkillers and whiskey had failed. He had spent the last 4 months in the hospital. He wanted to stay but the bed was needed for someone still in a crisis.

  A month later, Sally West arrived. She took the small room downstairs. She walked with a prosthetic leg.

  After her, came Mark Jacks and Waylon Cross. Their home was now full and everyone was getting along nicely. Mostly, because they all kept to themselves and figured out their own expertise to add to make this place a home. Scudder held weekly meetings in the recreation room. This helped everyone to get to know the others and to talk about anything they felt like discussing. It was a quasi-twelve step program. It is hard to say just why it worked but it did. Every member of the house was quieted in their souls and they all seemed to be serene and agreeable. They had, each of them, managed to acquire needed clothing for the cold winter. This was a feat since none of them wanted to be around people and shopping required that they do just that.

  Dwayne, Mark, and Waylon had spent a day in the pawnshop buying instruments. Dwayne an acoustic guitar, Mark, a fiddle, and Waylon bought a harmonica and a bass guitar. They hadn’t known until that day that all had played in garage bands back in high school. Music was something they could sacrifice their solitude for; if but for one day, in order to get their instrument to have at home. The vibrations of the instruments seemed to permeate deep into the soul of the musician. Leaving them feeling calm, comforted, and at ease.

  They played every afternoon in the rec room. Quietly strumming away their deep wounds of the spirit. Each day growing stronger and more alive. They were beginning to see a reason to rise in the morning and a glimmer of hope for the future.

  As Thanksgiving grew near, Scudder was beginning to plan their feast. Sally, who had taken over much of the cooking was helping him. They decided on pumpkin pie, turkey and all of the trimmings, sweet potatoes, and rolls. Sally had been playing the old piano from time to time and asked Scudder if they could have a sing-a-long after the meal if the guys wanted to participate. Scudder agreed but said there would have to be a vote at the next weekly meeting.

  A vote was taken regarding the menu and the entertainment and both were approved. So, six much damaged veterans had come together in one voice and agreed to have a very pleasant day of being thankful to be alive. And that day would be tomorrow.

  Scudder and his tenants had worked for two weeks to get the house ready for the Christmas party. He was excited to see the children and hoped they would not be upset that their dorms were now gone for good. They went to the woods and cut the biggest tree they could fit in the living room. Sally decorated it beautifully and made stockings for everyone and hung them on the mantle. Denver and Mark strung lights in the trees and on the eaves of the house. Dwayne, Waylon, and Scudder put garland up the stair rails and along the balcony and strung lights on the fence. They were all in a festive mood. The smell of apple cider and ginger cookies wafted from the kitchen as the Cars began to arrive for the party. Above the piano in the dining room hung a banner that read, “Merry Christmas from the Wounded Warrior Band.”

  Benjamin was the first in the door and ran straight to Scudder. He
wrapped his arms around him and held him tight. He hadn’t realized just how much he missed Scudder until this moment. He looked around the room and noticed how different everything looked. It was pretty now but not as homey as he remembered. Scudder introduced each of his vets to his old friends. He gave them all a tour of the renovated house. The children, Chance, and Peggy were the only ones who had ever been there before and could appreciate the vast difference. “Dwayne did most of the work. I just served as his gopher. He is a real artist, isn’t he?”

  “It is beautiful, Scudder. I like how you made it into a real home for yourself and your friends. The sisters and Essie would be so proud of you,” said Chance.

  They all went down to the dining room and helped themselves to cookies and cider and sang Christmas Carols around the piano. Sally played all of the songs by memory because she could not read music. The men all played their guitars and violin. Except, for Scudder. His voice was his instrument. They ended the caroling with ‘O Holy Night.’ Then they all retreated to the living room to exchange gifts and open their stockings.

  “I am so thankful for this evening with all of you,” said Scudder. “I am forever grateful that Ms. Essie, so many years ago, came to our rescue. I am thankful that I was so loved by the sisters. I am thankful that I was taught to share my good fortune with others. If I didn’t know to do that, I would never have brought my veteran brothers and sister into my life. Those of you who never met Ms. Essie Grogan missed out. Julie, when will that book of her story be finished?”

  “Scudder, one day, I will begin to put her story on the page.”

  But, life came along and it involves these lovely children and a husband. I tend to wrap myself in their stories. There will be another time for me to visit Essie’s journals and give her the story she deserves. But, for now, I am content being a parent and a wife…