The Year Turns 21

There was not any air moving as Gene sat in the porch swing. He held up the piece of cherry wood, closed one eye and squinted at his creation. Blowing the dust and some of the shavings off, he started carving on the other wing of the figure.

"I thought you were going to get your shoes resoled," Agnes and Jed took a break at the kitchen table close to the open window.

"Well, Reggie had those shoes made for a customer, and the fellow backed out of buying them. Reggie gave me a good deal on the shoes, same price it would have cost to get these resoled, so I took the shoes. I can always keep the papers in my shoes...till I can get 'em reworked, that is."

"You did get a good deal on the shoes. They fit well, and Gene sure likes them. But you're going to have to get something done with those pretty soon, Jed..."

Gene stopped whittling, and wiped his brow with his sleeve. So, that's why his Uncle hadn't gotten his shoes resoled like he threatened to do all spring. Gene began methodically working on his wood again pondering while he cut the curlicues.

"All in time. It's been so hot and dry...sure a good thing I didn't sell any of my surplus last year," Jed exclaimed measuring paper from the old catalog.

"It's that bad isn't it," Agnes agreed thinking on her stunted garden. "There wasn't anything but dust when I planted my garden, and what did find moisture enough to come up," she grimaced and shook her head. Well, with no rain...nothing. Grasshoppers...and...some kind of worms keep eating off anything that's growing above the ground..."

"Yeah, the oats came up and started, but they're pretty well cooked. Nothing to 'em. If this hot weather keeps up it'll cook the corn in the field too," Jed said as he finished placing the paper in his shoes.

"I'm so thankful we have the spring down on the east forty. Don't know what we'd do for watering the stock otherwise. Bessie said their well has dried up, and a number of other farmers around have the same problem. Wells have dried up and they don't have any water-"

"The ones that're really hurting are the ones that went out and bought that big machinery, and bought the land...now they can't pay up. And the livestock--they don't have feed for 'em, but what's worse in this drought they can't even water 'em. I saw it acomin'! Seems like folks just don't watch." Jed spoke up.

"I just don't know, Jed." Agnes paused thoughtfully. "You don't suppose David's on to something--do you?"

"I just can't figure that God, being so high and all, I just can't figure that he really cares about us puny folks down here."

"God doesn't always answer us exactly how we think he should," she thought of the number of prayers she had sent heavenward for a baby, a child of their own, "but I kind of feel like he cares...I've been reading my Bible more, and it says that God cares. We still have a few eggs and cream to trade at least."

"I plan on going in on Friday morning if you need some time to get things together. Right now I'm just going to go work on some wood working in the shop. Guess I could oil the harness too--while I'm at it..."

"Uncle Jed, why do you still do most of your farming with the horses? Couldn't you do more work, and faster with a tractor?" Gene asked as they drove along the dusty road into town on Friday morning.

"I figure it this way, Gene," he waved to a neighbor walking down the street. "Why go into debt when a good horse can do more'n one thing? They're versatile, and a good horse is cheaper. Besides, when I talk to my horse he understands. I can walk along side a horse an' wagon, when I want Ol' Ras to move ahead, I says to him, Git up there Ras! He moves ahead some an' I say, Whoa! Boy! And he stops. A tractor? Folks get ta thinkin' something's wrong with a feller that talks to his tractor," he said with a grin. "After we unload the cream and eggs here at Hockstedt's Creamery I've got some business at the dry goods store. Help me unload--then I'll meet you at the Doolittle's," Jed turned off the engine and they went to the trunk for the produce.

"Meet me at Doolittle's," Jed reminded Gene with a wave as the boy started out at a brisk pace toward up town. He passed the Opera house on the corner of the square, walked past the G. A. Undertakers and Furniture shop and Mr. Glen's Barber shop, with its red and white barber's pole outside.

Neil King drove into town and parked in front of the First National Bank. "I'll be down to the Barber shop after I finish here." He flipped Reece a shiny quarter, "...here's a quarter, you can meet me at Mr. Glen's in about forty-five minutes," he told Reece as he turned toward the large brick bank building.

Reece eyed the candy section at Miller's Dry Goods Emporium. A quarter sure didn't buy much, he frowned thinking of the days at his father's store when he would just help himself to the wares.

"Hey!"

He glanced up as a familiar voice spoke close beside him. "What ya doin' Spike?" he asked.

"Aw, you know the usual. Not much. Pa's here to get a hair cut and some groceries for Ma." The big kid shrugged. "Haven't seen you around much lately. What're you doin'?"

"Bout the same as you," he made his selection and headed up to the counter to pay. The two boys walked outside and started down the sidewalk. Reece took a piece of his candy. "Where's Willie and Sam?"

"There they are, coming up the side walk," Spike pulled something out of his pocket. "Here," he said handing goodies to the others as they stood beside him.

"You didn't get me none of those WhizBangThings," Sam complained as he stuck some candy in his mouth.

"Aw, shut up! Ole Lady Miller was watchin' me too close...if it hadn't a been for Reece here you wouldn't a got what ya did..."

Reece scowled, "I don't like it when you steal when I'm around."

"Aw, lighten up. I'm not stealin' from you, besides my Pa can't afford stuff like your Pa can," he said with a shrug.

Reece popped another piece of candy into his mouth and watched as Gene Wade came out of Reggie's Shoe Repair across the street from where he stood outside Mr. Glen's Barber Shop...

Gene had an idea and as he went from Reggie's Shoe Repair, to the Littleton Star Laundry, the Hotel Exchange, and several other businesses along the square it seemed to fall into place. Now all he needed was Uncle Jed's permission. After stopping at the Littleton Hotel on the other side of the street, he headed toward Doolittle's.

"Mornin'! Where ya goin' in such a hurry..." as Gene came around the corner Spike Nelson and two of his pals barred his path.

"I'm going to meet my Uncle over at Doolittle's," Gene started around Spike, only to have one of the other fellows grab his arm.

"Not so fast. We want to have a little chat with you--" with a leer the second boy grabbed his other arm.

"Yeah," Gene spoke quickly. "You guys think you're pretty big stuff, don't you? Easy enough for three of you big dopes to beat up one guy. Too bad it takes all three of you to whip one of me..."

"Whaa..." Spike had wound up a punch, but he stopped in mid air.

"You heard what I said," Gene taunted him. "You're cowards. You couldn't fight me one at a time. It takes all three--you're scared to try a fair fight!"

"Who you callin' a coward?" Spike's face darkened into a heavy scowl. "I'm no coward! Let 'im go Willie--Sam. Yeah, I'll fight ya one on one!" he started to square off for a fight, his fists pummeling the air.

"Just a second," Gene said unlacing his boots. He tied them together. Spying David walking down the sidewalk, "David!" he called out, "here, hold my boots will ya?"

"Sure," David came over and took the boots. "What's going on?"

"Just hold the boots, please." Gene turned back to face his opponent.

The pair circled each other for a time. Gene just biding his time not getting in a hurry. He knew Spike's kind wouldn't wait long. Shortly, Spike threw a punch, but Gene ducked and wheeled out of range. Flustered, Spike moved back in and threw another punch. This maneuver went on for a short time, and each time Spike threw a punch and missed he became more angry.

Gene's wiry body was deceptively thin. In the last two years it had filled out and had become hard and muscular from the rigors of farm work. He danced and moved about easily, not throwing any punches, just staying out of reach. Spike, continuing to waste energy throwing punches, was beginning to wear down and tire from the unaccustomed exercise.

Gene moved in quickly and with a short jab to the jaw, caught Spike off guard. Spike swung a fist back at Gene, but he was wide and wild. Gene ducked back out of range, then moved in again. A quick jab with his left, caught Spike on the other jaw.

How--and why--am I in this fight? Spike wondered. Who is this crazy kid? That Reece King! He had said this kid would be easy--as thin and light as he was--called him a country bumpkin. Reece had promised him fifty cents... Spike's head began to reel as Gene continued to jab and feint. He'd never seen him before today, and he wasn't sure he wanted to ever see him again.

"Hey! Hey!" David poured water on Spike's head as he lay in the dusty side street. "Hey, come on, big guy," he repeated.

"He's alright isn't he?" Gene worried. "I didn't mean to harm him none. It's just they were going to whip me up, and I figured..."

"No, he's alright. He's coming around," David helped Spike sit up. "Come on big guy."

Between David and Gene they got him over to the curb and helped him sit down. "I--I'm sorry, fella. Didn't mean you any harm," Gene apologized.

"Here," a voice above them spoke and a hand shoved something at Gene. "You deserve this. Go have an ice cream. You and that kid there."

Gene looked at the money in his hand, and stood up to watch Neil King marching his son toward their car. "What?" surprise was written on Gene's face as he turned to David. "What was that?"

Glen, the barber, stood at the entrance to the side street, chuckling. "Reece didn't realize when he made a deal with Spike there...his Pa was standing in the doorway... overheard the whole conversation...I think Reece will have a new understanding of life real soon... Come on over to Green's Soda Fountain--it's on the house. Haven't seen a better fight in a long time, boy!"

"Holy..." Spike gaped in wonder at the inside of Green's Ice Cream Shoppe .

"That's enough swearing," David frowned and reprimanded Spike.

"This is some place!" Spike exclaimed, his mouth hung open. "I never been in here before...they always run me out--before," he sat gingerly on the round stool in front of the counter.

Gene sat on a stool beside Uncle Jed. "Look at that mirror!" he leaned over and whispered. "and the marble counter! "Everything's so fancy,"

"Well, I don't know, son. Agnes and I have come in here before, but I almost don't feel dressed right..." he said taking his hat off, and straightening his shirt collar.

"You look fine," David assured him. "Besides, it's early yet. Not many folks are around. What would you like?"

"I'd kinda like..." Jed hesitated, "What would you suggest?"

"How about a double chocolate malt?" David asked.

"Sounds fine," Jed answered.

"What about you two boys?"

"I heard them Banana Frosted's pretty good," Spike said, his mouth watering.

"I really don't know," Gene thought hard. "I guess I'd like--I'd like the same thing that fellow there has," he answered as a clerk handed the guy next to him an order.

"What we want here," David told the clerk, "A double chocolate milk malt, for Mr. Wade here, a Banana Frosted for our young acquaintance, and Mr. Gene wants the same as what Mr. Slater there has," he nodded at the man as he sat eating a chocolate milk shake."

"What about yourself, sir?" the clerk inquired.

"I'll have a chocolate peppermint smoothie, thank you."

"Let's sit over there at the table," David led the way to a dainty round pink-marble table. He sat down carefully on the wire sweetheart chair.

"This here's real good," Spike said as he carefully took a spoonful of his treat. "You know that's real good of you...I mean, you winnin' the fight an' all..."

"Sure...well, I..." Gene broke off embarrassed.

"Who are those boys?" Jed spoke as he watched an employee from Green's Ice Cream Shoppe walk out and shake a broom at two bedraggled boys who stared in the window.

David glanced up just as the two ruffians made their escape down a side street, "Oh, just a pair of local urchins," he continued to enjoy his ice cream. "Boys like those need something good to occupy their time. You know Spike," David paused, "umm, that's good! You know, Spike, I'm looking for someone about your size to help me do some work. What do you think, can you help me?"

"Yeah, I guess," Spike had an uncomfortable moment and he dared not look at Gene as he stared after the two escapees. "I mean, as long as I have time, I guess I could," he stammered.

"That was sure good. Thank you," Jed cleaned up his malt. "Yep, that was sure good."

"I guess I'll see you two tomorrow..." David said as they walked to the door, "Bessie and I will be over for supper. You have the dominoes ready!" he challenged Jed with a chuckle.

"Alright, we'll see you tomorrow," Jed nodded as he and Gene turned toward their car. "That was sure fine ice cream, I sure wish Agnes was here. So, how was it you met up with that Spike fellow?" he turned on the ignition.

"I'm kinda confused about the whole thing myself, Uncle. I was on my way over to meet you at Doolittle's. I turned the corner right close there to Mr. Glen's, and when I did--why there were these three boys there--Spike was one of them. They were going to whup me..."

"All three of 'em? They were fixin' to commence to..."

"Yeah, beat the tar out of me. Well, I called 'em cowards, and told them it was funny it took three of them to whip one of me," Gene shrugged. "I guess Spike isn't as good a fighter as he thought he was."

"I don't take much ta fightin'," Jed said. After they rode along in silence he asked, "Where'd ya learn to fight like you do?"

"You know Pa used to do some fighting. Almost professional, but not quite. Ma never liked the fights. I don't either, but I was around them some--that and there always seems to be people like...well, like Reece--and Spike. They just don't feel right unless they can push someone around. Usually someone skinny...someone littler than they are."

"I guess I've known folks like that too," he spoke quietly with a sideways glance at his companion, as a vision flashed through Jed's mind of a skinny pathetic boy. A boy with large blue eyes. "I still don't like to fight, but your Aunt Agnes is right, I guess. Sometimes a person has to do what they have to do...."

Agnes stopped folding the laundry and listened, careful not to miss any details, her face creased in a thoughtful frown. "Tell me again, now. You want to do what?"

"I've talked to several businesses in town. They could use a runner, a messenger, a..." Gene's brow puckered as he tried to think of the title. "For instance, Littleton Hotel needs someone to run messages, pick up laundry, just general errands for themselves, and sometimes for their customers...and the laundry needs someone to deliver laundry...and things like that. I'm going to--if it's alright with you and Uncle of course--run their errands, for a wage of course--four days a week."

"How ya gonna get into town and home again? And what about school comin' up?" Jed asked.

"I haven't got all the cricks worked out. I thought maybe I could get a wheel--you know one of those bicycles cheap. For school, instead of working during the morning, I'd work a couple evenings and maybe on Saturday," Gene explained.

"We don't have a lot of field work right now..." Jed reasoned. "It's been so dry even the cows aren't giving much milk. I think maybe you have a good idea. I wish I could help with the bicycle..." he frowned and rubbed his chin.

"When did you think to begin?" Agnes asked.

"Thought I'd go back and let them know tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?!" Jed and Agnes chorused together.

"If I wait too long--"

"Well, that's right. What time tomorrow?" Jed took a sip of his coffee.

"I can walk in right after morning chores. The businesses I talked to thought I could probably start any time."