Chapter 23
Late that afternoon John and his family approached Jenner-By-The-Sea, but he had to use the windshield wipers when they encountered a bank of fog. The children began to cough, a deep hacking whoop. Tommy complained, "Mama, my throat hurts."
"This is the first time they’ve coughed in weeks. This damn place is making them sick again. John please roll up your window," Ella said with disgust.
When they entered their cabin, she started a fire immediately to warm the cold damp air. After she fed the children hot soup and put them to bed with extra blankets, she found John in the pantry, storing the venison. "John, we have to move to a warmer place. You have to ask for a transfer!" she demanded.
With his eyes bulging, he replied, "What are you talking about? If I do that I could lose my job. If my boss thinks I'm unhappy, he might fire me. I just can't take that chance."
She shouted, "John, if you can't take that simple step, then, by God, I will!"
"Ella, what are you going to do?"
"I don't know, but we're not going to stay here and let the children be sick."
The next morning after John left for work, she bundled Tommy and Joey in the back seat and drove to Petaluma. While she sat in John’s regional Superintendent’s office, a middle-aged woman wearing horn-rimmed glasses appeared at the door, announcing, "Mr. Cunningham will see you now, Mrs. Nelson."
Ella’s hands began to sweat, thinking, oh God, maybe I'm making a mistake. Maybe John was right. Well, it's too late now. Here I go.
She entered the inner office where a white-haired man pleasantly smiled and pulled out a chair. "Hello, Mrs. Nelson. Won't you have a seat?"
Before she could sit down, Joey pulled the top from his bottle and spilled milk down the front of her dress.
Mr. Cunningham chuckled and passed a box of tissues, saying, "I know all about children's accidents. I have eight grandchildren of my own. Now, how can I help you, Mrs. Nelson?"
She wiped her dress and sat down, repeating the speech she had rehearsed. "I’m John Nelson's wife, and he's worked for the state for ten years. We're stationed at Jenner, but the fog keeps my children sick. If it's possible, I would like John to be transferred to Sebastopol."
He tapped his fingers together. "I see, but why didn't John ask for this transfer himself?"
She looked into his kindly face and decided to hide nothing. "Well, John is afraid to ask for a transfer. He thinks he might be fired if he complains. I'm acting on my own, and he doesn't know I'm here. I wouldn't bother you, but I'm so worried about my boys."
When he reached for the telephone, she held her breath, afraid she had made a mistake. He said, "Well, Mrs. Nelson, I think I can help you. It just so happens there's an opening at the Sebastopol Depot. Let me make a call to see what I can do."
Sweat ran down her sides while he talked. Finally, he hung up. "Well, it's done. John can report to Sebastopol on Monday morning."
She leaned forward, staring in disbelief. "You mean, that's all there is to it?"
Laughing, he replied, "Yes, that's all. You tell your husband if he wants something, just come here and ask. He's been a loyal employee for a long time, and I like to reward that kind of service."
She stood up with Joey in her arms. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate what you've done, Mr. Cunningham. Come on Tommy; let's not take any more of this nice man's time."
That evening, she cooked venison steaks smothered with onions, the way John liked them. After the children were asleep, she took a seat and casually remarked, "John, I talked to Mr. Cunningham today about your transfer."
He leaped from his chair, yelling, "Oh Jesus, Ella, what have you done? What did he say?"
She laughed. "He said you're to start working in Sebastopol on Monday morning. He told me to tell you that any time you need a favor you can just ask. He said you're a very loyal employee."
He expelled a long breath. "Uh ... do you mean everything is all right?"
She patted his arm. "Yes John, it's all taken care of. Tomorrow I'm going to find us a home to rent in Sebastopol."
He collapsed in the chair, saying, "Jesus, Ella, I don't think we can afford to do that."
"Don't worry, John. I'll find something we can afford."
He vigorously scratched his head. "Well, OK. Go ahead then, but don't spend too much money."
She lit a cigarette and watched the smoke rise slowly to the ceiling, enjoying her new status, thinking, John is a paper tiger. He roars at home but he’s afraid in public. Now, by default, he’s transferred his power over to me. From now on, by God, I’ll take charge!