It was another long day, waiting to move up to the front of the line. Homer was in a foul mood with a bad headache and grumbling about all the money he lost at the poker game.
Elmer was frustrated that there wasn’t much money left for the rest of their journey and let Homer know how he felt.
“What ya got yerself in such a snit for anyway?” Homer snapped back at Elmer, “We get more when we deliver the girl.”
“We’d had more if ya hadn’t lost it last night!” Elmer was upset. “Just throwing it away like it was unwanted trash! An’ ya call me the fool!”
“Get away from me!” Homer screamed back, holding his head, “Can’t ya see I’m in no mood to be yelled at?! My head is breakin’ wide open.”
“Maybe ya better think about that next time ya decide to go being stupid!” Elmer returned the yelling.
Elmer kept the wagon moving up until they reached the edge of the river. The ferry crossing was built, owned and run by the Mormon settlers who came to this part of the country years before. The ferry master asked Homer, “Be ye Mormon brother?”
“I ain’t no Mormon,” Homer answered, “no Jew, no Christian, an’ no brother of yorn!”
“Then thy wage shall be $3.00 per wagon, and 50 cents per person,” the ferry master said as he held out an open hand.
“You’re nothin’ but a rotten thief,” Homer snarled at him.
“I’m providing a service, take it or leave it,” he responded to Homer’s accusation.
Homer put the money in the ferry master’s hand and glared at him, “You’re no better than a snake in a shallow pit.”
“I’d be more careful choosing my words, brother,” the ferry master said to Homer, “or you you’ll be paying for your mules as well.”
Homer shut his mouth, grabbed the reins and began pulling the mules toward the ferry. One of the front mules began to resist stepping onto the raft. He smacked the mule on the rear haunches and began to curse. The mule reared up and pulled back.
The ferry master tried to reason with him, but Homer wouldn’t listen.
“He cannot cross,” the ferry master said turning to Elmer, holding out his hand to return their money. “You will all wind up going into the river.”
Elmer ignored the money, turned to Homer and grabbed the reins from his hands.
“What do ya think you’re doin’?!” Homer yelled at Elmer.
“Gettin’ us across this river!” Elmer planted his face directly into Homer’s. “Get in the wagon and shut up! I’m takin’ the mules from here!”
Homer was fuming and said under his breath, “Elmer Smith, you will live to regret this!”
“Maybe so.” Elmer answered his brother. ”But for now, ya need to get inta that wagon and shut yer trap!”
Homer glared at Elmer and then climbed into the wagon and began throwing things around inside.
Elmer waited for silence inside the wagon and then coaxed the mules onboard the ferry. Then he said to Angie, “Come on little lady. We’ll be just fine.”
She stepped onto the raft and the ferry master was right behind her.
“Hang on to the railing, miss,” the ferry master told her as he pushed off the shore with his long pole.
The raft rocked gently back and forth and Elmer continued to talk soothingly to the mules. Their eyes were wide with fear, but they remained standing in their place. The wagon was chalked so that it wouldn’t move, and Angie looked at the shore that was getting farther behind them, and then she saw Margaret on the shore ahead of them. She was waving at her. Angie tried to wave, but then grabbed the railing again, trying to keep her balance.
The crossing was slow but steady, and the raft finally butted itself against the other side of the river. Elmer was quick to bring the mules and wagon off, while the ferry master helped Angie step onto the muddy shoreline.
Margaret ran up to her and hugged her, “I was so scared. Were you?”
Angie nodded her head, and the girls stood aside as Elmer found a place to settle for the night.
Elmer was afraid to look inside the wagon, for fear of what Homer might say or do, so instead, he went about caring for the mules.
The girls went to the back of the wagon and Angie called to Homer, “Are you alright, Homer?”
There was no answer.
She climbed up to look inside and found everything in disarray with Homer chewing on his tobacco. She then saw her crocheted blanket wadded underneath him. She was afraid he would get his muddy boots on her blanket, or worse, his tobacco. She climbed in to retrieve it.
“Get outta here!” Homer sneered.
Angie mustered up her courage and said, “I want my blanket.”
“I said, get outta here,” Homer warned her.
“Give me my blanket,” Angie set her jaw.
After Homer gave her a long deadly look, he finally said, “First Elmer, now you.”
He relented and pulled the blanket out from under him and tossed it to her. “Now, go away.”
She reached over and grabbed her blanket, retreating out the back of the wagon as quickly as she could.
“Why’s he so mean?” Margaret asked Angie.
“Don’t know,” Angie shrugged her shoulders, “he just is.”
“Maybe a girl broke his heart and he can’t get over her.” Margaret suggested.
Again Angie shrugged her shoulders.
“Where’d you get the blanket?” Margaret changed the subject, “Did your mother make it for you?
“No,” Angie shook her head, “I made it.”
“You’re telling me a fib,” Margaret laughed, “I can tell.”
Angie shot her a look and said, “I did too make it! My mother taught me how last winter. I was going to enter it in the Boone County Fair and win a blue ribbon but my family died and now I have to go to California, so I couldn’t enter it. But I’m going to enter it in the fair in Sacramento and I’ll win a blue ribbon, you’ll see!”
The smile left Margaret’s face and she was quiet. Finally she said, “I’m sorry, Angie. I didn’t mean to make you mad. Your blanket is really pretty.”
“Thank you,” Angie quietly responded.
“Will you teach me how to make a blanket too?” Margaret asked.
Angie shook her head no.
After many minutes of silence, Margaret said, “Well, I guess I’m gonna go see what my mother’s doing. She might need my help.”
Angie nodded but still didn’t say anything.
Margaret was sad as she walked back over to her camp, wondering what had happened.
That night, no one spoke. The Smith camp was quiet and everyone retired early.
Angie lay in bed and prayed, God, I miss them so much it hurts, especially my momma. I need her really bad. Please send her back to me. Please send them all back to me. I hate it here without them. Why couldn’t I have died too? Then I could be with them and we could all be happy.
Tears began to stream down her face for the first time in a long time. She buried her head in her pillow and clung tight to her blanket. Soon she felt an unexplainable peace flow through her and her tears began to ease. The grace of sleep began to overtake her and she drifted off with images of her mother flowing through her dreams.
The River