Chapter 14
It didn't take long for the days to grow shorter and colder. The darkness that took over most of the hours of the day made Mr. Browley panic with the lack of wood they had for the winter. Even though Chris' box at the sod house was filled to the brim and the back porch was nearly stacked to the ceiling, he didn't seem to think it would be enough.
After the animals were tended, before it was even light out, Chris and Mr. Browley headed out to the forest with their saws and axes. They had to go to the wooded area to the south, in between the Browley farm and the sod house which was a mere strip of trees, since the horses and wagon could not cross the river.
"One of these days, I'll have to build a bridge so we can utilize the woods behind the river." Mr. Browley said. "I've been saying that for years but can't seem to get to it."
"We could tackle that in the spring before the garden and fields have to be plowed." Chris said, surprised with his own offer.
Mr. Browley looked just as surprised but then relaxed his face with a gentle nod.
All day, Chris' arms began to tire. They throbbed and ached but he worked diligently until the wagon was, once again, full.
"That should fill up that back porch." Chris stated, wiping his brow.
"I just worry that what we've collected may be too small to last long. I have the fireplace and the stove to keep stocked all winter. If we had more hands, we could tackle the larger trees and stumps but this will have to do." Mr. Browley set his ax and saw in the wagon, in between the side and stack and slowly made his way to the high bench seat with a groan and extended exhale.
He giddy upped the Sam's and kept them moving slow over the bumpy un-kept ground being careful not to spill the load. When the path smoothed out, he reached into his coat and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
"I wanted to give this to you." Mr. Browley stated handing Chris the paper.
"What's this?" Chris asked, hesitantly taking the small package.
"You've worked hard for us for six months now and even though the beginning was a mite rocky, we have all seen you progress into a self sufficient, hard working individual. Everyone has taken a shine to you as I've seen you've taken a shine to us. This is just us expressing the appreciation and pride we carry for you, son... I mean Chris. Sorry, forgot you don't like to be called 'son'."
"You know what? I don't mind it so much anymore." Chris admitted. He'd felt warm and accepted for some time whenever Mr. Browley had called him son, but finally decided that when it came from the right person, he actually liked it. Just as when Hanna started calling him Christopher. He had sworn to himself that nobody in this world was going to refer to him by that un loving, wretched word but for some reason, the way Hanna said it, he longed to hear it. "Christopher." It rang like a church bell.
Chris folded aside the upper corner of the paper Mr. Browley had handed him. "Money?" He said, astonished.
"Yep, and that's for you to do with what you please. Whether you get some Christmas shopping done with it or you just save it for the future. The missus and I wanted to know how proud we are of you." Mr. Browley reached his hand over around Chris' shoulder and gave him a quick squeeze and pat, then returned his hand to the reins and said nothing more the rest of the way.
Chris could feel his eyes welling up and wanted to let them flow but could do no such thing in front of Mr. Browley.
He would not have changed this feeling for anything in the world. He wondered, though. ‘How could everyone back in my time hate and despise me and leave me out to dry when everyone in this time has accepted me as is and has helped me change the things about me that I didn’t even like?’
What was the difference between his time and their time? Hard work makes you sturdy and survival makes you strong inside but there had to be more. ‘What’s the biggest difference between my family and the Browley family?’ Chris racked his brain.
“Thank you, sir.” Chris managed to squeak out when the horses were stopped in front of the barn.
“It was our pleasure, son, may God bless you in all that you do.”
Chris’ brow popped up. ‘That was it. The biggest difference between then and now. The presence of God.’ Chris wouldn’t have believed it if he’d not been living it. The presence of God in people’s lives and in their homes, families and their hearts did impact what kind of world we lived in.
Experiencing an existence full of grace, forgiveness and love, he had no desire anymore to live any other way.
Chris closed his eyes tight hoping to open them and see that this was not all a dream. He slowly opened the left, then the right. It was not a dream. Hanna was still snuggled up to him on the small sofa. An afghan that Mrs. Browley had just finished for the family draped over them as the fire in the fireplace waved and crackled.
Chris inhaled her sweet fragrance and gave her a tight squeeze.
“A chief event of life is the day in which we have encountered a mind that startled us.” Hanna continued reading from one of her favorite Emerson poetry books.
‘If only she knew how true that was.’ Chris thought. As though Hanna had read his thoughts, she marked her page with her finger and turned to Chris.
“What would you say was the most significant moment in your life?”
Chris thought hard. Was it the moment his grandma died? The moments with her when she was still alive? The day his dad left or the moment he realized that he’d lost his mother? Was it the day he met Joe-Z or the entire time he’d spent with the Coar City gang? More likely it was his travel to this time and meeting Hanna.
“There are so many, but one of the countless things I’ve learned since I got here is that everything happens for a reason and I wouldn’t be who I am today without all of it. Especially you, Hanna.”
She lovingly laid her head on his shoulder.
“What about you?” he asked.
“Besides what just happened to Priscilla and thinking we were going to lose her? I’d have to say our trip from the East.” she answered with no hesitation.
“I’ve always been curious about that. Priscilla has told me a little but what was the hardest part of the trip?”
Hanna exhaled sharply as if she was overworking her brain, trying to remember. “The length of the trip was tough but you just never know what’s out there in the world until you’re staring it in the face. It takes a long trip to allow you to truly appreciate it as well as fear it.”
“I know that all too well.” Chris said under his breath. Not quietly enough as Hanna turned to him with a puzzled expression.
“You’ve taken a life altering trip?” she asked.
‘If you only knew!’ rang through Chris’ mind. “I have, but it seemed easy to get to the destination. It was everything after, that was a constant up hill battle. Tell me something about what your family went through.” He stated quickly trying to avert the attention back to Hanna.
“Oh, my... let me think. I was pretty young but I do remember most of it. Ma and pa met out East, they married and had me there. Pa stayed on the family farm and helped his pa and brother with the work. My pa’s brother, Charles never liked working the fields but did it because he wanted to please and help his family. After my grandpa died, Charles decided to move to the city and took his ma with him. It was the decision of my pa, then, to stay and farm the land or sell and see what else was out there. He’ll never tell what led him to the decision he made but I’m sure it was God’s doing. I truly believe that we were meant to come out here.”
“I feel that way too.” Chris stated. “I cannot imagine what I would be doing, now, if I hadn’t come here.”
“You still can’t remember how you got here?” Hanna asked.
“No, I have no idea. I woke up in that field next to the Pike farm and didn’t know where I was. I thought, at first, that a mean trick had been played on me and that I was close to home but the further I went, the more I realized
, I was no where near home.”
“Do you remember where you are from, now?”
“It was a large city. I was used to the noise of the hustle bustle city life but since my trip to Shorlin, I’ve realized that I like the quiet country better.”
“I certainly do.” she said. To Chris’ relief, she focused on that part of the sentence rather than asking what city he’d come from. He’d either have to make up a name or somehow convince her he didn’t remember the name. He wanted desperately to tell her everything, where he’d come from, everything that has happened to him but the fear of losing her when he finally had won her heart was too much to risk.
“I remember the mountains.” Hanna began after a few minutes of listening to the pop of the fire. “They were beautiful but crossing over them, I would never wish upon anyone. The wagon path zig-zagged up the mountain and back down the other side. It was very steep and treacherous. Pa almost lost control of the team on the way down. Nervous about crashing off of the side, he made ma lift me out of the wagon and walk while he walked along side of the team. It seemed like it took the whole day to trudge down that mountain. It was then, though, that I was able to absorb the sights around me. The mountains are magnificent creations and we thanked the Lord for them that night as well as praise for our safe crossing.”
“My grandma took me to see the mountains, once. I was young, too. I was terrified to look out of the car window and be staring straight down a cliff. I felt better in the area’s that actually had guard rails.”
“A car? You took a train into the mountains? What’s a guard rail?” Hanna asked, her reaction was of pure excitement and curiosity.
“Oh, um.. a car is what we drove where I come from. It’s kind of like a wagon.” Chris said, not knowing any other way to explain it without revealing himself.
“But you said it had windows.”
“It was like a wagon but it was a complete box, so it needed windows in order to see out.”
“That sounds neat.” Hanna exclaimed sounding truly interested. “I’ve never seen anything like that before. And what’s a guard rail?”
“It’s sort of like a fence so you don’t fall over the side of the mountains. I’ve never been East, so maybe it’s different in the mountains you went to. So where did you guys stay at night?” Chris rambled trying to get the focus back onto her. One simple sentence threw him into a tailspin of explanations. He’d have to be more careful what came out of his mouth.
“We camped. We’d travel as long as there was daylight. Pa would stop just before sunset, so ma would have enough time to get a fire going and supper cooking before darkness hit. Some nights out there were the darkest I’d ever seen. Every noise seemed to echo, scaring me. I remember one night shaking under my blanket at the eerie howl of coyotes. I didn’t sleep the entire night. Pa would sleep by the fire but only with one eye closed and clutching his rifle so he could keep watch and protect his family. Ma and I slept in the back of the wagon. It was tight, though since we had it full of the supplies we needed for the trip. Luckily, most of the food were in barrels hanging off each side. If it weren’t for that, there’d be no room in the wagon at all. It was an experience, I’ll tell ya.” Hanna took a deep breath and forcefully blew it out.
They sat in silence, once again, listening to the fire and watching it cast shadows across the wall. The flickering made every shadow dance.
Hanna snuggled closer to Chris to where no air could come between them. She opened her book where her finger had marked the page and continued reading aloud:
"Broad are his shoulders, and strong, And his eye is scornful, Threatening, and young. I hold it of little matter, Whether your jewel be of pure water, A rose diamond or a white,— But whether it dazzle me with light. I care not how you are dressed, In the coarsest, or in the best, Nor whether your name is base or brave, Nor tor the fashion of your behavior,—But whether you charm me, Bid my bread feed, and my fire warm me, And dress up nature in your favor. One thing is forever good, That one thing is success,— And to all the heavenly brood. Who bides at home, nor looks abroad, Carries the eagles, and masters the sword."