Chapter 9
The summer was passing by quickly. The cool mornings turned into smoldering afternoons. The fields were coming up nicely and the garden was flourishing. They had already been able to pick some of the produce, preparing it for canning.
“Have you ever had a bean straight from the garden?” Priscilla asked Chris as he grimaced at her doing it.
“No. I can’t say that I have.” Chris disgustingly replied.
“Try it, you’ll like it.”
Chris hesitantly picked one of the green beans being careful to avoid the strange purple ones and took a small bite off of the tip. The sun warmed, juicy bean seemed to melt in his mouth but had a refreshing snap to it all at once.
“Wow, this is actually good.” Chris exclaimed as he popped the rest of the bean into his mouth.
“This isn’t usually man’s work, but Pa thinks it’s important for a man to also know what a woman does around the house. I don’t know if it’s so he can help out if she’s ill or just to broaden an appreciation for it.” Priscilla explained sounding more advanced than her nine years.
Later, they sat on the back porch as they broke off both ends of each bean, snapped them in half and threw them into a bowl sitting between them.
Chris could feel the heat of the kitchen waft out of the window behind him as Hanna and Mrs. Browley prepped the cans for the beans. He couldn’t imagine being cooped up in a hot kitchen on a day such as that one. It was easily 90 degrees but the slight breeze did offer some relief.
Chris was getting along splendidly with Mrs. Browley, Priscilla and even Mason. Mr. Browley was business, as usual, but seemed to now treat Chris as one of the family rather than the hired help. He offered for Chris to join in all of the activities the family embarked on and the children as well. Whether it seemed appropriate for his age or not, he meshed well with the children as they went to the river and swung in on the rope they had tied to an overhanging tree branch.
Since Chris was merely six years old, he’d been thrown into adult responsibilities taking care of his mother and their home. Nineteen years old or not, he was going to enjoy some of his childhood. Swimming, fishing and playing ball allowed him to gain back some of the childhood he had cruelly lost.
Hanna, on the other hand, seemed to despise him. She did everything she could to avoid him. He’d made some effort to engage in small talk with her but all he received were one to two word answers. In addition, she had resorted to calling him nothing but Mr. Scholt. She seemed to be working hard to distance herself from him. To save his dignity, he wanted to give up on pursuing her but his heart screamed something different. Even if he never won her heart he still felt the need to win back her respect.
Mrs. Browley opening the back door snapped Chris from his deep thought. "You two about done with those beans? We got the pot boiling for blanching."
"Just finished." Priscilla gleefully announced.
"Well, I'll be. That's the quickest job I'd ever seen. What do you say about going out and picking the last of the blackberries for supper. Since I have the kitchen piping hot already, might as well bake a pie."
"Can Chris come help me?" Priscilla beamed.
"If he'd like and if your Pa and Mason don't need any help fixing that harrow."
Before Mrs. Browley had even finished her sentence and without even asking if Chris wanted to go, Priscilla was out of her chair and running behind the barn to ask her pa.
"She's certainly taken a shine to you." Mrs. Browley stated as she pivoted around back into the door with the bowl of snapped beans.
In less than a minute, Priscilla appeared from behind the barn with a gleaming smile on her face, stating with no words that Chris was in the clear to go with her. She ran past him into the house and emerged again with two wicker baskets.
“Lets go.” she bounced.
Chris followed Priscilla as she led the way. They took the same path that Mason had followed to the river to fish but instead of stopping at the river, they crossed it on a tree that had conveniently fallen across the water. On the other side of the river was a thick tree line. Priscilla seemed to know exactly where she was heading.
“This is always were we have the best luck.” She stated, stopping at a patch of bushes, speckled with the berries. “Here’s your basket.”
“So you know your way around here pretty well, don’t you?” Chris asked.
“I’ve been here all my life.” she answered. “Mason and I were born in this house and we’ve grown up here, we know every angle of these parts from fishing, berry picking and just exploring. Hanna knows her way too even though she hasn’t explored as much. She was actually born back East.”
Priscilla rambled on doubling Chris' pace picking the berries.
"So, how long have you all been here?" Chris asked truly interested.
"I guess it was right before Mason was born. Hanna remembers the trip even though she was only four years old, she tells me stories of it every so often. From what I've heard, I'd never want to take a trip like that."
"Why not?" Chris asked.
"Well, first of all it took them months to get here, that alone would make me not want to travel."
"Months? Just to get here from the East? Man, I'd always wanted to travel but I'd fly.." he stopped himself.
Priscilla just giggled. "How would you fly? Flap your arms really fast?"
"Yeah, ha-ha, just kidding." Chris recovered, once again. He wasn't being too careful but how could he stop from talking about things he'd known his entire life and that had surrounded him day after day? Maybe he should just try to tell the Browley family. Maybe they would believe him... Maybe not. Chris wondered but didn't know if he wanted to take that chance just yet.
"So what happened out East that made them want to move?" Chris asked wondering if he was sounding too nosey.
"From the stories told to me, pa and his brother Charles were helping grandpa and grandma with their farm. When grandpa died, grandma moved home with Charles and pa and ma decided to see what was out West. They packed up Hanna and whatever they could fit in the wagon and started out. Hanna states that the trip hardened her and ma and pa. They are stronger people now because of it. I want to be strong, too, but I'll figure some other way. There are more berries over this way, I think we already have enough for the pie."
Chris, soaking in everything Priscilla was telling him, yearned to know more about Hanna. "Why did your family choose Coar?" he asked.
"I guess pa just liked it. It has the river and forest, the land seemed fertile and it's right in between two cities which is convenient for sell and trade. Every fall, pa travels to Shorlin to sell the majority of our wheat to be milled into flour. He is guaranteed sale through one of the merchants so it is tradition to take the three day trip there annually, after the harvest. He‘ll probably take you with him this year, Chris.” Priscilla stated excitedly. “I’ve gone with him twice and even though I like it out here in the country, it’s exciting to see the city.”
“I’m certainly curious.” Chris said under his breath.
Chris studied Priscilla. He'd never realized how much she looked like her mother. Instead of her hair up in a bun, however, she wore it down in two golden braids. Her face was young and smooth but her knowledge and wisdom showed her to be much older than her nine years.
She was so close to the age when Chris had met Joe-Z and the Coar City gang. He couldn't imagine that it was that long ago. If Joe-Z approached Priscilla like he'd done to Chris, would she be as vulnerable and impressionable as Chris had been? Of course not.
It was then when Chris realized what a victim he had been to the gang. They didn't want to be his friend. Why would they befriend an eleven year old? They just used him to get free stuff and if Chris was caught stealing, they would have little ties to him to be caught as well.
Chris felt an overwhelming reaction come over him. It was a mixture of grie
f, anger and a feeling he was no stranger to... emptiness. His father, his mother, his classmates and teachers, Joe-Z, the entire gang... and now, Hanna. It seemed everyone he had tried to care for didn't care for him. Did he not deserve love?
"Come on, Chris, I think we have enough." Priscilla announced grabbing Chris' hand to walk back over the fallen log.
Or, perhaps, Chris was looking for acceptance and love in the wrong places. The realization slapped him in the face like a wagon full of bricks as he stared at the girl that he felt admiration for, he felt the need to protect her like an older brother. He realized there were diverse ranges of love. You can love someone romantically but you can also love someone, deeply, on a different level... like he had loved his grandma. Like he had, now, for Mrs. Browley and Priscilla.
For the first time since his arrival, he actually felt he was a true member of a family. Finally a part of something.
Could he really be where he belonged?