s39-- Dinner/Party

"Don't need anymore polishing--You look ready to go, son," Jed said around the kitchen door.

Gene gave himself a critical look in the mirror that hung over the wash basin. He gave his hair one more swipe with the comb. "I guess this is as good as I get. I shouldn't be too awful late," he dropped the comb back into the comb and brush holder that hung on the wall beside the sink. "Are you three ready?" the sunlight barely slanted through the kitchen window as he walked into the dining room.

"You are going over to Bessie's brother's, right? Say now..." Gene closed one eye and squinted at Jed. "you don't look too bad yourself, Uncle. I'd say Aunt did a job on your evening clothes as well."

Jed straightening up stood taller in the afternoon light. He had a certain easy air about him that made his tailored black suit fashionable enough to pass as evening clothes.

"Yes, we'll only be three blocks away...or --Agnes?" he blinked. "Agnes! You look...terrific! You've out done yourself!"

"Thank you..." Agnes smiled as color tinted her cheeks at the sudden notice. The deep rose colored silk dress with elbow length puff sleeves and a tulip style skirt that flowed to just above the ankles accentuated her still slender figure. Her long tawny hair was rolled just forward from ear to ear and around the back of her head, while a matching deep rose and black striped turban set off her fine facial features. Nissa's deep rose colored dress was sewn in a matching style, but with white lace trim and a white and rose colored bonnet.

"It's three-- you walk up north half a block then back east two blocks and then on north again half a block. And yes," she pushed the jeweled hat pin into her turban and firmly anchored it in place, "we're ready to go."

"Nissa, don't get messy now, honey," she bent to straighten the lace on Nissa's pink silk dress and twitch the collar into place.

"I would say you don't need to look any better...why the folks at the dinner party will be so dazzled by your presence the way it is!" Agnes brushed an imaginary object from Gene's coat as she examined his evening clothes, then his appearance from well combed hair to his black patent leather dress shoes.

"How fortunate that you spent last summer with Alistair in Europe. I poured over the fashion magazines trying to be up on the newest styles when I adjusted your evening clothes. I'd say you'll do...," she picked up her handbag and lace gloves. "No, Nissa, don't get Gene messy either. Just walk with me. Brother's going to a party and he wants to look nice, honey."

Gene winked, smiled and made a google-eyed face at Nissa. She giggled and began to skip and lisp, "Party. Party. Party." as Agnes took her small hand and they walked to the automobile.

Gene did not remember much about the drive into town. The weather was dry--but not exceedingly so--and nothing could ever be as hot as the summer's weather of 1936. The wind blew and blew, but at least it blew the dry, dusty road dirt away from them. Soon they were pulling up in front of the Dorking residence.

"You did remember your gifts?" Agnes worried out loud.

"Yes, Aunt. I have a box of hand dipped chocolates for the hostess, and a small nosegay for Angela..." he held up his wrapped boxes.

"Oh, good!" she exhaled.

"Don't worry, Aunt, it can't be much worse than meeting the Queen," he grinned at her.

"You never told me you met the Queen!" she turned to look at him in astonishment.

"I didn't--just several people close to her. And the Dorkings don't really size up to them at all. I'll see you all later, and you have fun."

"Oh! I never! ...you have a good time too. Jed, I just don't know about that boy!" she laughed as the door chunked shut.

Jed smirked into the rear view mirror then watched as Gene strode up the steps and shut the gate behind him at the top of the walk. "He seems to have his head on pretty straight to me, Agnes. For someone his age especial.... You and I've seen things and we still get amazed at goings on, but he just takes things in stride, you know."

"He looked so handsome in his evening attire. I didn't want to say too much. How did Grandma Wade's saying go? Something about Praise to..."

"Praise to the face, brings open disgrace," Jed finished for her. "I know--I didn't either, because of that very thing...too many folks that think too highly of themselves. There's another Grandma Wade saying--beauty is as beauty does; but ugly goes all the way to the bone..."

"Yes, old adages, but good ones."
**************************************

Gene waited patiently in the impressive foyer while he was announced. This wasn't the first time he had been in the Dorking's home, but it was the first time he had been an invited guest. A large pastoral painting hung in the entrance, and a heavy wooden table held a vase of summer flowers in soft colors accentuated with an occasional vivid blue, or red. Gene peered at his reflection in the well polished sheen of the wood work.

"This way, if you please," the butler indicated the correct room to him.

"Thank you," Gene said.

"So glad you could come," Mrs. Dorking gave him the standard greeting.

"Mrs. Dorking..." he handed her the chocolates with a slight flourish.

"Thank you..." she said and unwrapped the gift. "These are my favorite..."

"And these are for Angela," he handed the young lady her boxed flowers.

"Oh, Gene! How thoughtful!" Angela took the nosegay from its box. "These are so beautiful!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Dorking, the only gift I have for you is my pleasant personality," he smiled at his former coach and shook his hand. It was only a year since the Dorkings had moved to the area, but Gene thought Mr. Dorking had aged five years in his appearance. The gray in his dark brown hair gave him a more distinguished look, but the worry lines on his face just made him look older.

"You've made Mrs. Dorking--as well as Angela--happy, and that's worthy of note," he said cordially.

"I say! Is that you Master Gene?" a familiar voice spoke heartily from close behind him.

"What...?! he turned quickly. "Sir Hughes...I didn't know you were in the area!" Gene bowed slightly, "And how long have you been back, sir?"

"We have only been in for a few days. I came in Saturday, and Monsieur Bouchette followed me in on Sunday."

"David mentioned that Le Comte Bouchette was to be arriving for a visit, but I had not understood that you were to come as well."

"Bonsoir, Master Wade," Philip Bouchette grasped Gene's hand in a hearty handshake. "Bonsoir, bonsoir!" he repeated. "You are acquainted with the Monsieur and Madame Dorking, oui?"

"Monsieur was one of my teachers at high school, and the mademoiselle was a school mate," Gene nodded in Angela's direction.

"Ah--a very pleasant mademoiselle...do you not think?" Philip said with a slight lift of the voice as well as an eyebrow.

"Yes, she's very pleasant...a good friend," Gene agreed hoping to head off any more speculation.

"La Mademoiselle has a good eye for her friends then," the count smiled and nodded. "You are looking well also, my young friend. What do you think, Monsieur Hughes?" he nodded in approval.

"Quite dapper, I'd say...Quite dapper indeed," Sir Hughes agreed.

"David Pickerell is hoping that we can have some time while you are here. I have been practicing on some of the arts you introduced me to last year. David and I have some questions --Monsieur Bouchette--Sir Hughes," Gene interrupted himself. "I would like to introduce an acquaintance of mine. Monsieur Le Comte Bouchette, and Lord Hughes, my friend, Edgar Deering. Edgar--Le Comte Bouchette and Lord Hughes."

"Good evening," Edgar made a slight bow to the pair of gentlemen.

"Bonsoir," Philip answered in return.

"Good evening," Sir Hughes echoed.

"Angela prevailed on your good nature also, I see," Gene grinned at Edgar.

"Oh boy!" he stopped embarrassed. "Pardon me, your graces, but do I ever feel like the only fish at a cat supper! Yes, Angela looked so...so..."

"Friendless? So forlorn?" Gene supplied.

"Yes, and now, here I am. Thank God you're here, Gene," Edgar felt like he was drowning in perspiration.

"Oui! Belle demoiselles!" Philip said with a sigh and a slight laugh.

"How have you become acquainted with Mr. and Mrs. Dorking, Sir...if I may ask?"

"You may ask, Master Wade, but we have not at this moment enough time...to answer," Sir Hughes said. "We will have to wait for a convenient season to speak. They are about to announce for the meal."
******************************

"The flower arrangements are very artful. Don't you think?" Edgar made conversation with his dinner partner, Jessica Crest.

"Yes, I suppose so," she replied with a doubtful glance at the flowers.

"And have you had an enjoyable summer?" Gene asked Eileen Cantor, his partner.

"Yes, we spent several weeks vacationing at the shore," Eileen was accustomed to society--more so than Jessica. "And yourself?"

"We have had a busy summer, but we aren't vacationing this year. Maybe next summer. Do you go to the beach every year, then?"

"Most every year. Mother has an Aunt that resides in the area. We go and visit her, then rent a cabin."

Gene observed the menagerie of eighteen guests. There were the few of his acquaintances from his school days, and two older couples he knew from around town. Sir Hughes had brought his sister, Nellie, but Gene did not know Philip Bouchette's Lady Jane. Then there was a smart looking older couple that Gene surmised must be the parents of the young man Angela was seated with. A young man possibly twenty years old, light brown hair, quiet and well mannered...and well polished.

How odd, each pair seemed to be a quiet conversation to themselves, almost whispering to each other.

"Do you ever think that we take ourselves a trifle too seriously?" Gene asked Eileen with a sideways glance.

"Too seriously? Whatever do you mean?"

"We are sitting around an impressive table. Everyone in fine apparel. Eating sumptuous food. And whispering about the weather."

"We weren't talking about the weather--"

"Well, not exactly the weather, but just--chit chat, you know. Nothing important."

"That's what we're supposed to be talking about..." she puzzled.

"Now, when the men go off by themselves they break out the brandy and cigars, you know, and talk about important stuff. I don't know what the ladies talk about, but here we just talk about the--weather."

"Oh, I see...and what should we be talking about?"

"What would come to your mind? What are you interested in?"

"I'm crazy to go to the World's Fair in Paris," animation lit her face. I've never been to Paris...only the shore," she sighed, the light faded out of her features.

"We were in Paris last year...but had to cut it short to make it home for the trial. Did you hear about Picasso's painting?" he asked.

"No, I hadn't heard anything about it..." her features revived.

"It isn't something we talk about in polite society, because it may offend the ladies."

"Gene Wade! You are so aggravating! I'm thinking Greg Bilker is right, you are a coward!"

"I can handle you," he said smoothly even though anger flushed his face.

"So what does that prove, I'm a girl?"

"If I can handle you, I can handle him."

"But I'm a girl...oh," she drug out the last word. "You are comparing Greg to a girl? But he did a job last week on Lonnie Smith...Lonnie was in the hospital you know."

"Yes, I know, but Greg doesn't fight fair. He had his 'boys' with him. Four, or five guys against one person isn't really fair, now is it?"

"Hmmm!" Angela cleared her throat and flashed him a look.

"Eileen?" he wondered had their voices gotten too loud?

"Yes?" she whispered demurely.

"My apologies," he smiled.

"That is why we're supposed to talk about the weather," she smiled back.

"I know, but just think how interesting it could get," he smiled and bent his head back over his soup.

"Have you been traveling much, Sir Hughes?" William Dorking asked.

"Just the usual amount. My sister, Nellie, and I were in Paris at the World's fair for several weeks. Le Comte met up with us one fine afternoon..."

"The world's fair has been in the paper lately. What was your impression of it," Mr. Dorking said.

"Very interesting. It's very interesting," Sir Hughes was non-committal.

"I've heard several things said about it. Some very interesting things...will you be in this area for long?"

"Only a few weeks. I usually try to get back to my park twice a year. This year has been very trying...very difficult to get away from London. Oh--Master Gene," he leaned slightly in Gene's direction. "I bring greetings from your Aunt Louise. We were at the Palace together one evening at an engagement...she indicated that her mother and she were so pleased to have met you last year. Mrs. La Font will be home in a few weeks and was thinking of extending an invitation to your Aunt and Uncle."

"Uncle Jed was ill last winter...he is doing better, but I'm sure the vacation would be good for him."

"Your Aunt Agnes? And little sister? How are they?"

"They are doing well, thank you," Gene replied.
*******************************

"I would like you to meet an old friend of the family," Angela introduced her dinner partner to her young guests. "This is Walter Henrey. He and his family have known my family for as long as I can remember. Walter, these are some of my new acquaintances, Eileen Cantor, Jessica Crest, Edgar Deering, and Gene Wade."

"Harvey," Angela called the butler, "would you bring us the domino game, please?"

"I guess we don't get the brandy and cigars," Eileen snickered.

"Brandy and cigars! I should hope not!" Angela was shocked.

"I'm sorry, that was my fault," Gene explained. "That is what the men do in Europe. The ladies go off and discuss things in their group, but the men go off and break out the brandy and cigars, and discuss things like politics, and what is going on in the House of Lords, or Parliament, or whatever."

"And we will be playing dominoes...however, that's alright. They make the policies, and we play the games," Walter said in an even voice.

"Have you been to Europe, then?" Gene asked. There was a steady presence, a sort of dignity in the young man, and Gene liked that.

"Yes, I have," Walter answered as they set out the tiles. "I have a brother and sister overseas, and we go once a year to visit."

"Did you attend the Olympics last year?"

"Yes, father enjoys sports. I'm not into sports myself, but do find an occasional interest."

"I would so love to go to Paris," Eileen sighed. "What about you Angelina--I mean Angela. Would you like to go to Paris?"

"I think I've been to Paris, but I don't remember it. It was when I was quite small." Angela frowned at the tiles she had in front of her. "Whose turn is it?"

"I believe it's mine," Walter put out his tile.

"Your brother and sister must be quite a bit older than you are. I don't remember either of them," Angela found a place for her tile.

"I'd just as soon stay here in the good old U S of A," Edgar said.

"I'm going to have to go home in a few minutes," Jessica pouted.

"It's still daylight outside. Almost too early to go home," Gene flashed her a smile.

"I know, but my family will be picking me up soon."

"Make the best of the time you have, Jessi," Edgar encouraged. "That's a good play there."

"Thank you, Edgar," she smiled at him. The tension in her face relaxed. At Edgar's praise Jessica gained a measure of self confidence, and color transformed her drab everyday appearance into loveliness.

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" Jessica put her last tile out. "I won!" she exclaimed. The game went smoothly with small talk here and there.

"Good job, Jessica," Angela smiled. "--Yes? Harvey?" the library door opened.
"Miss Crest's car is waiting, Miss Angela."

"Don't forget now, Jessi," Edgar leaned over and whispered to her, "thank your host and hostess for a lovely evening on your way out."

"Thank you, Edgar. I get so flustered. I just forget everything."

"I know how it is. I remember my first dinner like this."

"Thank you so much for inviting me, Angela. I've had a good time. If we'd had time I'm sure you would have won the next game..." she leaned over and gave Angela a hug.

"Jessica's really a nice girl," Angela spoke to the group as they watched her exit. "I don't think she gets a fair deal at school."

"I always thought she was an empty headed nincompoop. No one else at school really likes her, but her father does have lots of money," Eileen's eyes held an unusual scheming look. "Maybe she's not so bad."

"I'd like a little fresh air...perhaps we could take a walk in the garden?" Angela suggested.

"I don't like fresh air that much..." Eileen began.

"I wouldn't mind a little stretching after our meal," Walter agreed.

"We'll be there in a minute," he called as Angela led Walter and Eileen to the exit. "Ed, come here," Gene guided Edgar over to stand at the bay window as if looking out at the street. just about dusk with an occasional pedestrian walking down the street.

"Quiet out tonight. The street lights will be coming on in a short time."

"Yes--but what is it. What did you want?"

"Ed--Eileen's pretty thick with Greg Bilker and some of his friends. Jessica is a nice person, but she's naive. Maybe you could be a little watchful for her...not too much, maybe but you know?"

"If you knew Eileen was close with Greg, why did you say..."

Gene shrugged, "Well, it's the truth. On both accounts. Greg is a capable fighter, but he doesn't fight fair...especially if he knows he won't win. Just keep an eye on things, okay?"

"Sure, Gene. I can do that..."

"Let's go join the group," Gene led the way to the garden entrance.

"Paris is just so romantic," Eileen said.

"Romance is elusive," Walter replied. "It isn't really any more romantic in Paris, than here in Littleton."

"It has to be," Eileen wrinkled her nose. "Littleton is so dull. Most of the time at least."

"I don't know if I would call it dull, exactly," Angela said.

"Of course it isn't dull for you, Angela. Look at all the people you have coming and going in your world. But we never have company, especially not interesting company," she gave Walter a coquettish smile.

"Don't you think the warmth of the summer evening brings out the fragrance of the flowers?" Gene winked at Angela.

"Yes, I do, and I think it is a little warm this evening," she grinned at him. "Eileen, is that your ride I hear?" she asked as a horn sounded -ahooga!

Eileen's face flushed deep red--"I think it's probably just some dumb bell..."

"I'd say it's some dumb bell..." Gene muttered under his breath. "Are you staying at the hotel?" he asked Walter.

"No, we are staying here at Angela's home. We'll be here another week, I believe."

"Perhaps when we entertain Sir Hughes and Monsieur Bouchette you would like to join us?" Gene suggested. "What are your interests, if not sports?"

"I do play chess--rather well. I enjoy playing sports, but I'm not much at watching."

"Are you sure that isn't your ride, Eileen?" Angela repeated when the hateful Aa--ooga, sounded again.

"I'm sure it isn't...but I think I should telephone home to see if my car has been sent," Eileen stood up from the stone bench she was perched on. "Thank you for the invitation, Angela. So good to meet you, Walter, and good night Edgar and Gene."

"I do believe Eileen is irritated at someone," Angela laughed as the door closed.

"With good reason. Greg Bilker is a...no one likes him except those who like his money, or what it can buy," Edgar chimed in.

"Gene why were you saying those things about Greg?" Angela's face wore a pained expression. "You know Eileen will repeat everything you said, and that's just asking for trouble!"

"Angela, I have a plan...I know it could be a costly mistake--look what he did to Lonnie," Gene shook his head.

"I'm concerned about you," Angela bit her lip, looking down at her handkerchief laying in her lap.

"Thank you.

"Who is this guy you are talking about?" Walter asked.

"He's no good," Edgar spoke up. "And he's usually up to no good!

"He drives the car with the horn. He and his cronies have been out on our country road lately," Gene said.

"Oh--that's not good," Angela looked up startled.

"A few weeks ago some local fellows were having a horse race...informal, you know, just boys racing their ponies. That cursed automobile came along and caused Albert Bluey--one of the guys racing--caused his filly to bolt. Dumped him, he ended up going to the doctor with a cracked rib."

"I hadn't heard about that," Edgar's face grew pale.

"You wouldn't. News from out in the country usually stays there unless it's really big. Albert's pa went to the sheriff and complained. Seems like 'the citified slicks' as Mr. Bluey calls them, have been tormenting more than one farmer and their livestock. Mr. Bluey lodged a complaint...tried to press charges, but they can't get him on anything I guess."

"What do you think he's after...? Walter puzzled over the information.

"I just think he likes to push other people around," Edgar said. "I'm no threat to him, but I still stay clear."

"Back when I was on the football team...a year ago now...I did some driving for Mr. Dorking. Greg, was resentful. I told him to buzz off and get lost. Lonnie had words with him as well. We're both on his favorite list."

"What are you young folks looking so glum about?" Mr. Henrey came around the Camellia bed. He stood looking amused at the group, tapping his walking cane occasionally on the red brick path.

"Just a local hooligan, Father."

"Never seems to be a shortage of them in the world, is there?" his smile was tired and resigned. "But what do you say," the older man brightened out of his reverie, "we're thinking of going up town to the hotel restaurant for some French coffee and we could catch the entertainment as well."

"Entertainment? How gay!" Angela brightened. "How about you Gene...and Edgar?"

"I may be needed..." Edgar hedged.

"And I would need to telephone my family first. They are over at Bessie's brother's," Gene told Angela.

"You do your telephoning, and we'll make further arrangements," Mr. Henrey continued walking toward the house door.

"I need to run up to my room and get my wrap..."

"And I need to visit my room as well, for my hat and other accessories," Walter and Angela excused themselves.

"Hello," Gene spoke to the operator, "Mr. Lewiston, please...yes, that's the correct number..."

"I didn't plan on..."

"Edgar, don't worry about money," Gene covered the mouth piece on the phone. "I'll get it. Yes--Jim, this is Gene, is Uncle Jed there?"

"We have several taxis commandeered," Mr. Henrey came into the foyer. "You young people can ride together, and we'll meet up town at the Littleton Hotel."

"I don't know how I'll ever be able to go back to the shop tomorrow," Edgar grinned at Gene as they entered the fancy hotel dining room.

"Same way I'll get up tomorrow put on my bibs, and go back to plowing...actually I'll be working on the last cutting of hay for this year."

Gene inspected the hotel dining room as the group waited. The extravagant white table cloths, the fancy silver ware and white china table settings--No, there was not much change in the few years since Gene had left employment at the hotel. Everything was sparkling and elegant.

"Mr. Wappleburg--how have you been?" he spoke to his former manager.

"I am doing well. Thank you for asking," Mr. Wappleburg enjoyed the notoriety of being around rich and elegant people. "And you are looking well. I trust your fortunes are improving?" he observed Gene and his associates.

"They are doing as good as can be expected, thank you. My family will be joining me shortly as well..." Gene thought how good it was to say, 'my family'. He sat back watching the people around him. It was a carefree moment as the group ordered coffee and some ordered desserts with laughter and easy natured conversation.

Jed, Agnes, and Nissa stood, framed in the doorway waiting to be escorted to a table.

"This should be a special treat. I'm tickled that you invited us," Jed leaned over and whispered to Gene after he had seated Agnes and Nissa.

Lord Hughes and Monsieur Bouchette talked quietly while Lady Jane and Nellie exchanged pleasantries. Mr. and Mrs. Dorking did not look at ease as they sat on the other side of the table beside Mr. and Mrs. Henrey.

It was an odd twist of fate that Sir Hughes and Monsieur Bouchette were the least conscious of rank and title. They moved freely from one situation to another with confidence and grace. Mr. and Mrs. Henrey had a genteel way of manner as well, but there was a difference...Gene supposed it was the American influence.

Lord Hughes motioned to the waiter and whispered to him briefly.

The waiter approached Jed's table, "The gentleman at that table requests for you join their party, if it is convenient."

"Why...certainly--do you mind?" Jed looked across the table at Agnes.

"It would be a pleasure, I'm sure," Agnes smiled serenely. "Come, Nissa," she said. Picking up her hand bag, she took Nissa's hand and they followed Jed to their new seats as if it were an everyday occurrence to sit and chat with aristocrats.

"This coffee is very strong," Angela frowned at the mixture in her cup. "I don't usually drink coffee...so, what do you think?" she held up her cup and showed Walter then Gene.

"A little more cream then, perhaps?" Gene laughed into his napkin.

"Or chocolate instead?" Walter suggested with a slight shrug as they both bent over and peered into her coffee cup.

"Oh!" she stifled a gasp.

Startled, Gene and Edgar gazed across the packed room where several people waited to be seated.

"I don't know where they are going to be seated," Edgar said, "there doesn't appear to be any more seats."

"I don't see any more seats either. It looks as if we got here just in time. I think Ed's right, they won't get a seat," Gene looked across Angela at Walter.

"Who's that?"

"If you look across the room," Gene instructed nonchalantly looking at Walter, "toward the big picture window--just casually--under the letter 'O' in HOTEL--you will observe the scoundrel we were discussing earlier. A fellow by the name of Greg Bilker...and some of his friends...and look, Angela, isn't that..."

"Eileen..." Angela whispered.

s38 Onward, Still Onward

"Man, that is born of a woman, Is of few days, and full of trouble," David quoted. "Job chapter fourteen and verse one tells us that."

"I know that," Gene shook his head. "But I sure am tired of all the...contention and fighting, and...I'm just tired of it! Seems like I want to be peaceable, but all the time somebody's always wanting to argue and fight! How in Jonah's whale do I avoid it?"

"I suppose you've tried..."

"Yeah, just walk away. That's what Uncle Jed says. It doesn't work...look at this black eye and tell me how well that works!" he scowled at his friend and made a hard left swing at the punching bag.

"I'd say it didn't work too well. Hmm," David rubbed his chin in thought. "I guess when you put it that way...another scripture comes to mind as well.

"Another scripture?"

"Yes, Romans chapter twelve verse eighteen says, If it be possible, as much as in you lieth, be at peace with all men."

"How does that fit? Instead of walking away do I need to walk faster?"

"The key here is--if it be possible, as much as it lieth with you--. You see, Gene, with some people it isn't possible to be at peace. If you read in First Kings chapter twenty, Ben-ha-dad sent to King Ahab and wanted all of his treasures. King Ahab said, 'Okay, it's yours,' but Ben-ha-dad sent again and wanted more than what he'd demanded the first time. King Ahab calls the elders together and says, 'look how this man seeketh mischief.' Some people are like that. You can bend over backwards to make them happy, and they just won't be."

"I sent Angela to talk to you and Bessie. I'm not even involved in this, but because she's been coming to church with you two I guess he thinks Angela and I are 'seeing' each other."

"Well, you do see each other, but as friends. People like Greg don't understand friendship."

"He has an automobile to drive, money to spend, and a few guys that follow around with him. I guess that's what he calls friends."

"I tell you what, I think we have some work to do. Let's get busy...and hey, you'll never guess who's coming for a visit in a couple of weeks..." David said holding the other side of the bag. "Start by giving this old punching bag the old 'one-two' business--watch your foot work now."

"I'm not real good at the guessing game...who's coming for a visit..." he began counting and punching.
*******************************************

"How is your mother doing, Spike?" Gene asked as they were filing out of church.

"Since I've been working regular she's been doing much better. Willie and Sam are stationed out in California. They're doing good. Real good. Ma was worried sick you know when they were threatened with charges after the trial. You know it all worked out though. They got enlisted, and them drill instructors...it turned their lives around."

"Yeah, I knew it went pretty hard on her. How about yourself, what are you going to do now?"

"I'm driving for the cannery and that's working well. Though I'm thinking of going to work for the airplane factory."

"We'd sure miss you. You would have to move wouldn't you?"

"Yes. I'd move Ma with me of course. With Pa gone--she doesn't have much to stay here for--I suppose I'd better be leaving," he turned to go as Angela approached.

"No, Spike, don't go..." Gene caught his arm. "Hello, Angela. Have you met Spike? This is Angela Dorking, --Spike...and Angela this is Spike Potter."

"Ah, hello miss...Miss Dorking," Spike turned scarlet, and sputtered. "Ah, glad to meet you. I was just leaving, so..."

"Oh no you don't," Gene laughed and spun Spike back around. "Angela, this is the most shy fellow. For all his size he's pretty much a lot of bluff!"

"Any friend of Gene's is a friend of mine," She held out her hand and smiled up at the homely face of Spike.

Gene noticed the genteel way Angela had of putting people at ease. He had also witnessed her ability to put others in their place when they stepped out of bounds.

"Good morning," Spike took his leave after a few moments of pleasant conversation, "Guess I'll see you later, Gene. You too, Miss, if you come this afternoon..." he touched the brim of his hat--this time without the inclination of the flight mode.

"Gene, I wanted to ask you a favor," Angela waited until Spike was out of earshot.

"I won't promise anything, but ask away," Gene said.

"Mother is giving a dinner party, and she wants me to ask a few of my friends."

"Angela," he hesitated.

"Gene, you're the best friend I have. I don't like these dinner parties, and I...I suppose you're busy," she answered with a resigned shrug. "I was just hopeful."

"If it means that much to you,"

"It's next Tuesday, if you could come?" hope had flamed back into her face.

"Yes, I'll come. Only if it makes you happy. I'm sure your mother will think I'm out of place," he scowled.

"Mostly Mother's dinner parties are very boring. People her age--her cronies from bridge--and father's friends. People that will advance their careers, or some such thing," she made a sour face.

"We certainly don't travel in the same circles, but c'est la vie."

"You have such a funny way of saying things..." Angela wrinkled her nose. "I never did do well in Latin, but thank you so much! I'll have Mother put your name down, and you'll receive your invitation tomorrow. I'll see you later!"

Angela felt like weights had fallen from her feet. She sat in the back of the Pickerell's Hudson. Her heart kept singing with joy. She did find those dinner parties hateful, but at least this one would be different. She leaned back against the gray upholstery. Thank you God, she repeated over several times. She had found friends in David and Bessie, and she enjoyed so much the lessons from the pulpit, but she enjoyed being able to watch Gene in his own world.

"Ready to go home?" David called in through the open door as he scooted little Eric in the front seat between himself and Bessie.

"Yes, thank you, Mr. Pickerell."

"Are you comfortable, Bessie?" he said helping her get situated.

"Yes, David," she said easing into position. It was close to her time of confinement before their second child was to make its arrival. This time she had no close friend who was also waiting, no one to anticipate with. She sighed as the door clunked shut.

"You look very tired, Mrs. Pickerell," Angela was brought out of her joyful haze with a jolt. "Are you alright?"

"I am tired, Angela, but I believe I am alright," she spoke with a smile and a reassurance.

Angela watched the church yard as other families exited the building and found their vehicles. An older couple were the last people out. They shut the door and turned the key in the lock. There were all ages here, even several young ladies the same age, or very close to, Angela's age.

Angela watched as Deidre Suko walked primly to her father's auto, and remembered the first Sunday she had met Deidre and her sister Sandra. She laughed at herself thinking how she had been slightly jealous of the two girls. It was not because they dressed better than Angela, but that Gene was so friendly and well acquainted with them.

"I hope you enjoyed your morning. Are you planning on attending this afternoon as well?" David made conversation.

"If you don't mind picking me up I would like to come."


"We can do that. We have singing this afternoon, so we should be by about five thirty. Will that be alright?"

"Yes," Angela hesitated slightly. She had forgotten about the singing. "Mother leaves for her bridge group about that time, but it should be alright."

"Angela, are you having...difficulty at home over your church attendance?"

"Only slightly," she said picking at her lace gloves.

"Would you like for me to come visit with your parents? Do you think it would help?"

"I don't know that anything will help," she blurted out. "They see themselves as more progressive, more advanced, and...I don't think there is any way to convince them different, Mr. Pickerell."

David could see the trouble in Angela's eyes as they looked at each other in the rear view mirror. That was one of her striking qualities, she was honest at heart. He found that to be ironic when he compared her to her parents who were two of the most self-centered and self serving people he knew.

"I tell you what. Bessie and I will lift you up especial in prayer. I'm sure all will work out well. It may take a day or two, but God watches over us all. We must have faith."

"You have a good afternoon, now," Bessie smiled over her shoulder at Angela. "Remember, we're praying for you."

"Thank you. Thank you so much," the troubled look was still on Angela's face as she slid out of the back seat. "I need those prayers," she took a deep breath, and closing the automobile door, she clutched her small white purse even tighter.

As they drove off down the street she walked up the steps from the sidewalk to their yard, through the gate in the white picket fence....

David turned at the corner and pulled up to the curb. "Let's have one of those prayers right now, Bessie. I'm so concerned for that young lady. I feel somehow that she is walking into the lion's den."
**********************************************

"Angela, when I said you should invite some friends for the dinner I didn't mean...well look here," Angela's mother angrily shook the invitation list at her. "I did not mean friends like Edgar Deering--and Gene Wade. Eileen Cantor--the banker's daughter and Jessica Crest--her father owns the new dry goods store in town-- well, they're good choices, but Edgar Deering! and Gene Wade! Just common..."

"Mother, can't I have even two of my own choice for friends? Not even two?"

"I've never liked the church you've been so adamant about attending lately. Mostly low class common folks. They're just greedy. They don't care about you...all they are looking for is your money. "

"My money?" Angela's eyes opened wide as she stared at her mother in astonishment. "What do you mean my...money?"

"Well," her mother stalled, "I mean look at your social class. Look at your father and I, and our social standing."

"Oh. I see," Angela's eyes narrowed slightly. There were a few ancient memories floating in her mind that were resurrected as she considered her mother's words. "But, Mother, it's only two people, surely they won't bother. And I would so like to have them." She smiled sweetly at her mother.

"I have important guests coming..."

"Only two..." she continued to wheedle.

"Only this once...I suppose," her mother gave in with a sigh. I could just kick myself for that slip, she thought. Angela's no dummy, and...
*************************

"Gene, I think you've grown another foot since last summer!"

"Oh, no, Aunt. That's not possible," he peeked around the parlor door which had been transformed into her sewing room for the next few weeks.

"I'm sure of it--look here are your measurements from last year--and here are the ones I just took--"

"I couldn't have grown another foot--look," he said standing in the door way. "Just look here, I still only have two feet--"

"Ha! Ha! Ha!" Uncle Jed guffawed from behind him in the living room. "He sure got you on that one, Agnes!"

"Oh, you two! Like two peas in a pod!" she rolled her eyes good-natured at their foolishness. "It won't take me long to have your clothes ready for tomorrow evening, but I'm still thinking I need to put a rock on your head!"

"What's that girl want you to come to dinner for anyhow?" Jed looked up from reading his paper. "You two don't even belong in the same social circles. We don't take to them parties and card playin' stuff," his forehead creased with his frown.

"I think she just needs a friend, Uncle..."

"Now, Jed, don't go giving the boy a hard time. He's almost sixteen. In a couple of years he'll be looking for a wife. You know we were young once too..."

"I hear Nissa waking up--I'll run up and get her up..." Gene left the two adults talking.

"Well, sixteen isn't eighteen, and eighteen isn't twenty-one--and he needs a good steady young lady. Not some body from uptown, who don't know how to do nothing. I bet she doesn't even know how to clean her house."

"Angela seems to be a nice young girl...not flighty like some I've seen," Agnes smiled thinking back on her own sisters, and some of the current young girls she knew.

"That's so," he said turning the page, "she's very helpful to Bessie. Pays attention to what's going on around her. Not like them bubble headed Gnash girls. Still, I bet she can't clean a house, nor make a meal."

"She doesn't need to. That's what they have their cook and the maid for. Ouch!" Agnes stuck her finger. "If I hadn't had Grandma Wade I wouldn't have had any training either...maybe she won't ever need to do cooking or cleaning...don't know that any of my sisters ever learned."

"Agnes..." Jed looked up from his paper, his reading glasses poised on the tip of his aquiline nose, "do you?"

"Oh, Jed!" she exclaimed in exasperation.

"I know, I know," he said with a grin. "Did I ever tell you just how gorgeous you are?"

"Jedidiah Wade did I ever tell you just how aggravating you are?"

"Nissa's done with her nap," Gene brought the baby downstairs. "I'll take her outside for a few minutes of play."

Agnes waited until the two had gone outside. "Look how good he is with Nissa..." she laughed. "Jed, I don't think Gene's serious about Angela. I think he's right-- she does need a friend, and that's all there is to it."

"That maybe so, but her coming to church of a sudden--looks a little suspicious."

"Bessie told me she and David have been praying pretty hard for her. They're concerned. When Dorkings first came to town remember how they were so friendly...until they found out where their bread would best be buttered."

"I've never figured out how they live so well on a teacher's salary."

"I'm sure they must have come from money somewhere."

"Well, they sure can spend it. Angela doesn't dress like a slouch."

"Jed!"

"I think it's time for me to go push Nissa in the swing..." he said laying his paper aside. "Before I get myself into that hot water," he folded his reading glasses up and laid them on the shelf above the clock.

Thoughts chased around in Agnes' mind as Nissa's laughter echoed from outside. Jed's words would not leave her alone. No, it was not wrong to dress in the latest fashions--as long as they were decent and modest. Scenes flashed through her thoughts. Agnes had caught Angela looking at Gene when she thought no one else would notice. Angela did not mingle with others from church, at least in the beginning she was more reserved. None of these things meant anything, really...or did they? What was it David always stressed? Pray about it...I'm going to ask Bessie what she thinks about this situation--Agnes decided. And pray about it.

s37 Onward Time Flies

The wind, the wind, streaming through Garnet's mane, and rushing in his face. He could smell salty horse perspiration, feel the smooth roughness of the horse's coat, and hear his hooves beating on the ground as he ate up the furlongs.

"Easy now," he gave a slight tug at the reins as a signal. "Easy now," he felt a slackening of Garnet's pace. They came to a stop at the end of the road. "Good run, boy," he caressed and patted the horse's neck. "Sure gonna be hard to turn you back to Mr. Goodnite," he said with regret. He thought on the hours he and Garnet had spent in training. "You're sure a good ole horse," he sighed with a final pat.

Mitch and Ike Stroll rode up alongside Albert Bluey.

"Betcha our ponies could out run your ol' mare, Albert." The Stroll boys were always looking for a race. Their ponies could almost fly, and they were always looking for a new match. Albert's family had just moved to the area and was an untried target.

Albert bristled with indignation. "Old mare," he said smoothing his hand over his filly's silky neck. "Why your ponies'd have to hump themselves to come within a mile of beating Bess here," he spat on the dusty road. "After all they are just ponies."

The day was full of work, and the boys liked to snatch a few moments of fun where they could. Sometimes they would meet down by the bridge at the old swimming hole, but lately since the addition of the Stroll's, and the Bluey's to the area the habit of racing their horses and ponies had taken their fancy.

"Avery...Trevor, you two come start us off," Mitch called to a couple of the boys that had gathered in the shade of the old cottonwood tree at the corner of the roads. "We'll race down to across from the school house there," he waved toward a distant goal.

"Give Randy and Don time ta run down and make a mark in the dirt," Howard said. "You two run on down there...here let me give you a leg up," he helped his younger brother up on their mule.

Don grabbed Randy's hand and using Randy's foot for a stirrup threw himself up on the back of the old mule. The old mule trotted down the mile to the finish line. The boys made a mark in the road then Don waved his old felt hat high in the air.

Mitch and Ike held their ponies in place while Albert sat on a slightly nervous Bess. He spoke to her as she pranced in place, and at the last got her soothed.

Some observers followed Don and Randy down to the finish line and waited there, while the others stood up from where they sprawled in the farm driveway and ditch along side the road.

"Alright, when I count to three, I'll holler 'now', and drop my hat! One, two, three--now!"


They were off as his hat dropped. Through the cloud of dust, they could see Bess hesitate at the start.

"Come on, Bess! Come on Bess," the boys cheered her on.

She reared and leaped into a bolt to catch the ponies. She wound up and passed them like they were running in place. As they neared the school house line she was far enough ahead there was not even dust for them to swallow...and she was still winding up.

"Whoop! Hurrah! Yeah!" the boys cheered. Mitch and Ike Stroll were not good winners, and they had rubbed salt in the wounds of every one they had won against.

Another cloud of dust appeared coming from the south.

Where was Albert and Bess? No one moved, no one shouted, fear gripped their voices.

Aahooga, aahooga! came the hated sound. The auto kept on bouncing along the road. Not stopping, not even slowing down it rolled by the two groups of boys. Everyone scrambled for their mounts and raced toward where the automobile had first been spotted.

"Albert's over here," Don called as the boys ran up.

"How is he?" several chorused as they slid off of their horses and onto the ground.

"Stand back--stand back..." he's comin' around."

"Where's the horse?" Sammy Summers looked up and around from where Albert lay in the ditch.

"She went that-a-way," Randy Trevor said with a wave on up the road.

"We better send someone to find her," Howard said as he gave Alfred a drink of water out of his canteen. "We'll find her Al. Don't worry none. She'll be all right," he said words to convince himself as much as the prostrate boy.

****************************************************

Gene looked up from the ditch he was mowing. He spied the dust from what appeared to be a automobile coming his way, and was glad that he was just a stone's throw from the driveway to the house.

"Get along now!" he slapped the team with the lines. He pulled the mower bar up, swung across the road, and swept into the farmstead lane.

Ah-ooga!

Ah-, he thought disgusted, ooga yourself! He had heard that fool thing more lately than he cared to. He pulled up in front of the barn.

"You aren't overdoing yourself are you?" he called out to his uncle.

"No, I just got out here. I've been working in the shop here doing a little wood working."

Gene backed the mower up, "Whoa!" and the team stood still as he climbed off. "I'm fixing to take the scythe out to the road bank. There's a few thistles that I need to get rid of..."

"Here, let me take Sal and Barney in and unhitch them and get them watered."

"The harness is too heavy for you, but you can take them on to water for me," Gene lifted the heavy harnesses one at a time and hung them on the pegs at the end of the horse stalls.

"I'm not quite useless," Jed frowned in frustration.

"No, Uncle Jed, you're getting stronger every day. Don't fret yourself," Gene lifted the scythe down from where it hung. He stopped, leaned on the scythe and looked his uncle in the eye. "You have to be patient with your self. Remember David's lesson from Sunday. That's the person we have the most trouble with."

"I am getting stronger, that's true. David's right at that isn't he, boy," he said with an agreeable smile.

The work was about done as Gene stopped and wiped the sweat from his forehead with a sleeve. He looked down the road bank and spied another thistle just a few steps further and that should be... He squinted down the road. What would Albert Bluey's horse be doing out grazing along the roadside for? He leaned his scythe against the fence post.

"Easy now, girl," he spoke soothingly as he neared the animal. He pulled some grass and held it out in a friendly gesture. "Easy now," he stopped as she shied away from his approach. She stopped then and let him walk up to her side. "Good girl!" he patted her neck and gentle, before she realized it, he scooped up the reins.

"Come on ole girl, let's see if we can figure out where you came from," he said and she followed him down the road. "Pears to me there's been some foul play here..."

It was not much farther that he spied Kenny, Howard's youngest brother trotting toward him.

Careful not to spook the filly he raised his hand in salute.

"Hello, there, Kenny! What're you doing? Easy,now, girl," he comforted the horse as her head came up and her eyes began to roll.

"You found her!"

"Hey! Hey! Walk careful now," he warned Kenny as he came closer. "No, she found me."

"She left Alfred back there a-ways...got spooked...fool automobile..." he panted.

"Okay, slow down. We'll walk her back. How far is it?"

"Not far. Just down by the school house."

"Yeah, I see them down in that dip there."

"Alfred and Mitch and Ike were havin' a race. Alfred's horse here left them boys behind like nothing else! I never seen anything like it! It was great!" Kenny grinned as he related the story. They walked a little way in silence then he looked side ways at Gene and repeated. "It was great!"

"They met their match then?" he grinned back.

"Yeah, it sure was. I do wish you'd race your Injun pony agin' 'em. I know he'd beat 'em hands down too!"

"I don't want Bobby to get riled up...but maybe some day," they were almost to where the boys had Albert sitting up.

"How's he doin'" Kenny called.

"Not sure...he's just getting his breath back," Don answered. "Good, you found the horse. You can rest easy now, Al."

"Gene found her, then he found me."

"She appears to be fine. Not favoring any thing," Gene bent and checked the horse's legs and feet. "No, she should be alright. So, what happened anyway? Kenny said there was a race?"

"Oh, man! Gene ya should'a seen it! Mitch and Ike," Don stopped speaking to point out the boys, "Where'd they go?" he asked the rest of the boys.

"Don't know," Sammy shrugged. "Don't remember see'n them after the auto passed us."

"Albert, that Bess sure can run!" Don grinned at Albert.

"She should be able to, that's what she's bred to do." His long pale dust smeared face broke into a big smile.

"Ha, ha! What a joke on Mitch and Ike. It appears that they are worse losers than they are winners...can you get up?" Don asked. "Be real careful now."

Albert winced in pain as he tried to move. "No," he said easing back, "Just give me a few more minutes," he took another swig of the canteen. "She took the bit, and was runnin' flat out when that dadburn auto came flyin' right at us. Of course she spooked and I went sliddin' off...okay, let's try again."

Albert gritted his teeth and this time he made it to a standing position.

"Oh, howdy! I'm glad Bess is alright, though. Dad'd have my hide if anything had happened to her!" He stood gasping for air. "Hope nothin's broke," Albert leaned against his horse to steady himself.

"Who are the dudes in the automobile? Seems like I've seen them before?" Don asked.

"I've seen them around lately too," Howard frowned. "City slickers from town I suppose. Do you know who it is Gene? You've spent more time around the town than most of us..."

"I used to play on the football team with at least one of them. Greg Bilker, his dad owns the garage in town. Apparently has more money than he has sense. I don't know who any of the others are," Gene answered.

"Too bad Mitch and Ike left so quick," Howard snickered. "That was some race, Alfred. You feeling any better yet?"

"I guess I'll be alright. I'd better be headin' for home, I've been longer than I intended." He groaned as he put a foot in the stirrup. "Give me a push up will you?"

With a heave the boys helped him into the saddle, and watched as he turned toward home.

"Hope he's all right," Don frowned, and turned back to his horse.

"Yeah, he must of hit pretty hard when he landed," Sammy said.

"Those fools in that auto. Someone needs to turn them in. You suppose the sheriff'd do something about them?"

"Naw...what could he do?"

"There isn't much the law could do...unless maybe they saw something as it happened. I need to get back to work too, I suppose. I'll see you later," Gene turned toward home.

"Hey, Gene let me give you a ride on home," Howard called.

"That's a big mule, but three to a mule is too much, Howard. It's not far...I'll see you tomorrow at Mr. Goodnite's."

"Come on, Gene, Sammy's little, and we get more'n three on old Blue here all the time."

"Oh, all right...just be careful there Sammy...don't go kicking him in the flank now!" Gene got situated and helped Sammy up.

"So what's going on with your old football buddy?" Howard asked.

"I don't know, Howard. Guess he thinks I'm horning in on his territory or something."

"What an idiot!" Howard snorted.

"He's got his eye on a certain young lady, and she doesn't like him. Couldn't be that there's anything wrong with him you know. Sit still Sammy, we're almost to where I left my scythe."

"Is it Angela?"

"Yes. He's been jealous over her since last year. Slide off so I can get off, and I'll help you back up, Sammy," Gene gave the youngster a hand down then carefully slid off himself. "You want to come on up to the house? Aunt has some fresh baked cookies...I'm sure she would share," he grinned up at the two boys on the mule.

"Would we like some fresh baked cookies? You bet!"

"Some guys are just sore losers," Howard and Sammy rode Blue down the lane as Gene walked beside them.

"That's true, but Angela doesn't like him. He's not..." Gene hesitated trying to think what it was Angela didn't like about Greg.

"He's not you," Howard guffawed at Gene.

"I don't think that's what...,"

"Every other word out of Ruthie's mouth is to sing your praise, and she's not the only one. Some of the other girls at school--according to rumors--thought you were the cat's meow," Howard interrupted.

Gene's face turned crimson. "You've been listening to stories, Howard, and you're plumb crazy. Let me put this idiot stick back in the barn while you tie Blue to the fence.

"Have you been fishing this spring, Howard?" Jed asked as the boys drank their milk and ate a handful of oatmeal cookies each.

"Been too busy, sir. Don't know why," his face clouded as he considered the last year. "It's a wonder we're still here. the heat and the grasshoppers last year about did us in."

"Yeah, it has been tough, but I got a letter from one of my brothers the other week. He's been traveling all over the country and says cities aren't a good place to be. Twenty men looking for the same job he says. I'll stay here in the country. At least the air's clean and I know my neighbors."

"We have plenty to eat, my Pa always says, and things have to get better soon," Howard said. "I guess Sammy and I need to be getting on home. It's time to go bring the cows in for the evening. Thank you for the cookies, Mrs. Wade. Sure good. You going to be at the oration at the school house next week?

"Probably," Jed nodded at the boys as they pushed their chairs in. "Your folk'll be there I reckon. Tell your Pa I'll get back to him on the pasture land we were discussing last week--at the meeting."

"They're all growing up so fast," Jed said with a wistful lilt in his voice as he and Agnes watched the three boys walk out toward the barn. "Just yesterday Gene was that scrawny ten year old boy."

"Yes, with the lost look in his face that almost broke a body's heart. Now he's most grown up...and what would we have done without him?" Agnes sat down at the table. Howard reined their mule around, and Gene gave old Blue a slap on the haunch as the mule trotted down the lane.

"I do believe that boy is going to be taller than me, Agnes. Do you know he's already looking me in the eye--I guess I'd better get on out and help with chores."

Jed put his cup over by the coffee pot, and headed for the barn. He noticed there was a light breeze and a smell that said full summer was coming soon. He stopped to watch the milk cows milling around in the lot as they waited to go into the barn for the evening's milking.

He walked to the barn and hollered into the darkness, "Gene?"

"Back here," came from a back granary.

"What you doing back here, boy?" he looked in surprise as his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness. "When did you improve your room back here? Last time I was in here you only had your punching bag."

"When I was in Europe we met up with Mr. Bouchette. Remember him uncle? The man you drove out to Lord Hughes' place back...how many years ago now?" Gene frowned in thought. "It was back when I worked at the hotel..."

"Yes, of course I remember Mr. Bouchette. That was a nice day. Agnes and I enjoyed it very much."

"He was visiting Lord Hughes in London when we were there. He was leaving for France and traveling on the same ship we were, so naturally we spent some time in his company. We were invited to visit him at his chateau. He comes from an old family that dates back many centuries. They were masters in defense...sword fighting, and the such like. He's very much into pugilism as well."

"You know we don't like fighting..."

"This deals a lot with the art of swords and the self defense of fisticuffs."

"Isn't that...fighting?" Jed's voice held a dubious tone.

"Yes...and no."

"I always thought that punching bag was a good way to take your frustrations out. It seems like the last few years have had their share, haven't they? How did you run into Howard? I thought you were working on thistles."

"I was...I can tell you the story while we work on chores," Gene gave the punching bag one more wallop before turning for the door.

Gene sat reading, glad the long day of work was at an end. He glanced up at the clock in the dining room and closed his eyes briefly. He opened his eyes and continued reading since he had several more paragraphs to cover.

"I hear them coming down the lane!" Agnes exclaimed as they set up a game.

"We'll have a little bit of time while David reviews Gene's work. You and Bessie can get things arranged," Jed said.

"Yes, that's true, but I want to ask her about some crochet patterns," she stopped as they heard the doors slam on the Hudson. "There they are now."

s36

"I'm glad that you didn't go to the ball, but deceit isn't a good way around a matter. I don't miss the problems that came with school and playing sports. Angela, you live in a different society than I do. Your friends are--mostly--different."

"I don't have any real friends. You're the only one I can be honest with. You don't look at me...on the outside, and I'm not just the coach's daughter...I'm a person. To you."

He matched his steps to hers, and they walked on for a space. Angela wondered at the changes that had taken place in both of them. She had hardly recognized him as he rode past her earlier. Now as they walked side by side she stole an upward glance. How much taller he had grown in the last six months! His complexion had a ruddy, healthy glow, and coupled with his black hair it made his blue eyes all the more brilliant. The outside work and constant exercise had given him muscle on his wiry frame that most boys his age would not acquire for several years--if ever. Any other girl would have been shy and tongue-tied.

"Angela, I want to remain your friend. This isn't the only school you have been at..."

"No, and probably not the last," she pursed her lips in thought. "I found out why we left the other school in such a hurry."

"That is none of my business. I'm not into rumors and such things."

"It wasn't a rumor. I was somewhere and overheard something...but you are good like that, Gene. That's why I like you so much."

"I won't play with your feelings, or your heart either, Angela. We are both too young to be playing at grown up things. You know my family...a little at least."

"Yes, I do."

"We believe that religion is more than something you use. More than something you give lip service to...someone termed it as being archaic just a few months ago."

"I guess I know who," her brows drew together in a frown and she bit her lip. "But he doesn't speak for everyone. He doesn't speak for me..." Angela sat down on a park bench.

Gene snapped a lead shank on Garnet's halter and slipped the bridle off his ears hung it on the saddle horn. The horse dropped his head and began to graze.

"I believe...I believe that you believe he doesn't speak for you, but..." Gene turned back to the subject.

"No! No!" she shook her head violently and punched a small white fist into her other hand. "He doesn't speak for me. I don't want to...be like him. Or Mother for that matter. I just see their lives as empty."

"In what way?" his mind groped for the right question. "Empty--how is it empty?"

"I really don't know, but I look at things and think something is wrong."

The birds were beginning to build their springtime nests. There was a slight breeze stirring the new bush and tree foliage growing around them.

All I have to judge by is what's on the outside, he thought with a frown. He could not help but notice what was on the outside...how pretty Angela was in the light blue spring dress and cape. Her wide blue eyes imploring him to believe her words. Lord, help me, he sent a prayer heavenward.

"I do believe you, but I still have to judge by what I see on the outside," he spoke. "You know David Pickerel--he's our preacher--you remember. Whenever I have a problem, I go to David. He's got a way of helping me think out my own thoughts, my own answer...using God's Word. I don't know how, but you should contact David. It would be good for you to talk to him and Bessie..."

Ah-ooga! Ah-ooga! "Hey, Angela!" a male voice called from an automobile as it idled alongside the park sidewalk.

Garnet's head came up, but only with a curious glance as he continued to chew the grass in his mouth. Gene could hear several female voices laughing. He was cognizant of his farm clothing, and that he was straight from the fields. How embarrassing this would be for Angela. Her society friends would see him as a common laborer. He turned to his horse.

"I'm sorry I didn't think," he raised his hand to fetch the bridle from the saddle horn. "I'll slip the bridle back on over the halter..."

"No, wait," she put a soft white hand on his sleeve to stay his hand. "Give me a minute to send them on their way. I'll be right back," she turned and lightly skimmed over the new green grass and spoke to the people through the window of the vehicle.

He could guess that the occupants were boys and girls who just a few months ago were his fellow students. Some of the stray words from inside the auto wafted his way, and the voices were familiar.

"No. No, I will not come with you. I'm talking with a friend. No, I'm busy, and will be busy later as well." Gene overheard Angela reply. There was high pitched laughter then Gene distinctly heard Greg Bilker's voice loud and belligerent.

"I don't want to have anything to do with that countrified bumpkin! You'll be the laughing stock of Littleton High if you keep company with him..."

"I'll see you tomorrow!" she turned angrily from the automobile window and flounced back to where Gene had returned to the task of bridling his mount as the auto roared down the street.

"I'm sorry, Gene. They are rude and spoiled," she stamped her foot. "They make me so angry! I can't think of enough names for their behavior."

"No, it is I who should apologize, Angela. I didn't think, only that you might want someone to talk to. I didn't realize--I should have thought of your reputation, and how this would look."

"Gene Wade!" she stamped her foot again, "Of all the unreasonable ideas! I did need some one to talk to. I don't care what they think...or say for that matter!"

"But I do. I know who I am, and if they want to think of me as a farmer and someone who grubs in the dirt, well that's what I do--sometimes. But, you Angela, have to go to school with them. I will walk you back to your house, then I will wish you adieu."

"Gene," she raised her hand to his cheek.

"Angela, I wouldn't play with your feelings, nor your heart. I ask you for the same consideration."

"I'm sorry," she snatched her hand back. "I didn't think..."

"You didn't mean any harm. No harm is done. Come now, let's get you back to your home," he smiled, taking the lead shank they began the short walk back.

"Have a nice evening, Angela," he said as they stood before her gate. "Remember what I told you. David and Bessie...if you need someone to help sort things through. Very good people," he tipped his hat. "Take care," he said as he stepped into the stirrup.

"Gene?"

"Yes?" he continued to swing up into the saddle. He looked back down at her. "What is it, Angela?"

"Thank you. Thank you for being you."

"I don't know what else I'd be, but if it's helped?"

"It has," she smiled up at him.

"Good day, then," he smiled back. "Giddup," he neck reined Garnet around down the street and kicked him into a gentle lope toward home.

She had wanted to call after him, "Will I see you again?" but she knew it would be pointless to ask. His goal may not be to capture her heart--but he already had. She pulled her cape closer, and walked into the house.

s 35 nigh unto death

"Agnes! I don't want to be rude, dear, but you look absolutely awful! You go up stairs and go to bed! I'm going to take over for you for the rest of the day." Mrs. Lewiston insisted.

"I'm fine. Really, Karena, I'm..."

"I've been around enough sick rooms. Honestly, Agnes, you need to rest. Nissa can spend the day at Bessie's. She and Eric play well together. I've never seen two little tykes that play so well! I'll keep a watchful eye on Jed and you go on up stairs and get in a good sleep! I won't take no for an answer."

"I suppose a good sleep would be what the doctor ordered," Agnes still hesitated. "And I know you'll take good care of Jed," she said with a weary sigh.

"That's a girl--just fold up your stuff and lay it aside. You've been sitting here long enough," Karena Lewiston clucked at Agnes as they tidied up the sitting room. "Now scoot," she said with a friendly pat.

"I so appreciate you and Jerrold coming over to help. Gene's been up night and day helping me, and doing Jed's chores. It's a wonder he's not down sick too."

"That's what neighbors are for. It's too bad Gene's had to drop out of school...and he was doing so well."

"He's fifteen already. Seems like it was just yesterday when he and Glory came back from Oklahoma," Agnes sat down. "It is a shame in some ways, but Jed only finished seventh grade, and Grandpa Wade only went to the fourth. I don't know that it hurt them any, but still..."

"If they don't have character to begin with, education doesn't make them a better person. Well, you need to get along up to bed. I'll be here when you get up," Karena said in her no nonsense tone.

"Thank you ever so much. These last few weeks have just about worn both Gene and I to a frazzle. A couple of hours of sleep should be a help," Agnes stood up and began to clear the breakfast dishes away.

"What are you doing? Off to bed with you!" Karena, with a deft movement, plucked the dishes from Agnes' hands. "Shoo! I said off to bed!"

"Habit I guess..." Agnes said with an embarrassed laugh. "I'm so tired I don't quite know what I'm doing. Alright, alright, I'm on my way." Her tired feet dragged toward the staircase. "Thank you ever so much again..." her speech was a blur.

Karena turned with a relieved sigh as she heard the floor boards upstairs creak telling her that Agnes had made it to her room, and as each shoe fell, then the bed springs creaked, she knew that Agnes was laying down. In a few minutes she would tip toe up and check that Agnes was covered and sleeping well.

The rattle at the back door told her that Jerrold and Gene were almost finished with the morning chores, and soon Nissa would be needing dressed and ready for the day. She heard David's auto as it crunched down the drive toward the house. Jerrold hallooed the passenger as the door on the Hudson opened and slammed shut.

Then there was the stamping of feet on the porch, the cleaning off the boots before entering. Karena threw open the front door, "Come on in, quickly now! I just got Agnes upstairs to lie down, so shh," she put a finger to her lips.

"Yes, mother," David pulled off his boots beside the door. "How is Jed doing today?"

"Agnes says he had a restless night last night. Indeed, his bed covers look as if he picked at them all night long!"

"Father is coming in from chores in a few minutes...And of course, Gene, also. I've come to carry Nissa to Bessie. Eric is looking forward to company. How is Agnes faring?"

"She's very pale and tired. Just what the doctor was afraid would happen. The summer heat was so very hard on her, and now this!"

"Well, you know, people in the cities suffered, and so many died from the record heat," David hung his coat on a peg by the door. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Just go in and sit beside the bed, David. That way I can clean up in the dining room and kitchen. I don't like to leave Jed unattended for long."

David walked into the pleasant sitting room and found a Bible sitting on the table at the bedside. He thumbed through the Psalms, pausing to read several random passages to the unhearing patient. With a sigh he sat quiet, remembering the time not so long ago, when he had been the patient. The summer curtains had been replaced by the winter drapes. A wreath made of bittersweet with winterberries entwined hung over the hearth while a large stone crock full of long colored grasses and cattails sat beside it. Light breezy summer decorations had made way for the bold, bright winter decorations.

He could hear voices from the kitchen as his quiet voiced father-in-law spoke in hushed tones. Even though he was unable to understand what was said, it was a comforting sound to the ear. David smiled as thoughts of the last few years sifted through his mind.

Karena Lewiston came bustling in to the room interrupting his reverie. "Thank you so much, David. I need to change Jed's plaster...and maybe you could throw some more wood on the fire there, to keep that water boiling..."

"I can do that. And let me help set Jed up, and we'll get those covers straightened up too," David said rearranging the blankets. "Jed," he bent over and spoke to the sleeping figure. "Jed, we're going to move you now. Don't be startled, man," Jed woke slightly as David slipped an arm under his back, and a hand under his arm, and Karena did the same on the other side.

"Ready? Lift," David said. In unison they pulled Jed up to a more comfortable position.

"Here, I've got some cool water," Karina gave Jed a sip of water then she moistened his face and washed his hands. "David, would you read a Psalm, and ask the blessing, then Jed can eat some oatmeal and tea."

"Agnes?" Jed asked.

"I sent her up to bed. She's plumb tuckered out."

"Good, worried about her," he finished with effort. "Gene?"

"He's young...Jerrold came over to help. You need to rest and stop your worrying! We're here to help. Now, let's tackle this breakfast..." Karena picked up the spoon. "When we get this all down I'll change that plaster, and then you can sleep. I'm here for the day."

After breakfast, the two of them busied themselves about the room and the patient, making him more comfortable.

"I think everything's all set," Karena surveyed the room and the sleeping man. "We can let him rest for a while. He has a bell if he needs anything."

"What a sight you two are! David laughed as he entered the kitchen. "Those aprons look real nice with your overalls."

"I think they are a sight for sore eyes, myself," Karena smiled. "You two were getting a might behind in the kitchen area."

"Aunt Agnes wasn't able to do everything. We just agreed we'd do what we could and not worry about the rest. Mr. Lewiston volunteered to wash, and I can dry and put away."

"Yes, Mother--and you too David--down you sit yourself and have yourselves some coffee. We don't have sweet bread to go with the coffee, but maybe, Mother, while we go to the wood lot and get up some wood for these folks, you can take care on that?"

"Cake, cake, cake!" Nissa slapped her spoon on her tray.

"Nissa! Don't slap on your tray," Gene put her spoon in the dish water.

"Aagh!" she made a face and turned away as Gene washed her face and hands.

"We have to clean up before you can get loose..."

Gene rolled his eyes at David, "Is she going through a stage! Nissa!"

"Nissa, come here," Karena said sternly. "Now, Nissa," she put an arm around her as she set the little girl on her lap, "you must be a good girl. Momma and Daddy need Nissa to be good and be a helper. Today you get to go help Aunt Bessie and little Eric, and Nissa must be a good helper. We will go get your coat, and cap, and you can go with Uncle David."

"Are you ready to go, Gene?" David asked as Nissa stood in her hat, coat, and holding her bag.

"Yes, Sir. What time will you be back over, Mr. Lewiston?"

"I'll be right over after the noon meal. The boys and I have some chores to do at home, but we'll be back after we eat."

"Gene, stop at the store for these few things, and I'll see you in a little while when Doctor Foster brings you back out."

"Yes, ma'am," Gene took the list and stuck it in his pocket. "Can you carry that big bag?" he took Nissa's hand as she nodded at him her eyes big, and her face solemn .

"It's been a tough two weeks for you and your Aunt hasn't it?" David spoke the obvious. "I'm sorry we couldn't help any earlier, but this year has been a challenge for all of us hasn't it?"

"Yes, sir."

"We'll stop at the store first, and get that list filled. The Doctor has a few other calls before he comes for you. That will give us a few minutes to talk. I don't think we've had any time at all."

"No, sir."

David was quiet for the rest of the trip. Was he just tired out from the last few weeks,or had Gene changed during the last few months and David had not noticed it? They had barely returned in time for the trial. The trial itself had been...a trial for everyone involved. Not long after, the new coach had come to Littleton, and school had started..."Well, here we are. Leave your bag in here, Nissa. Let's go see the nice lady at the dry goods store...can you get her out on your side, Gene?"
*******************************************

At the front door to the Pickerel home Gene met the mouth watering fragrant smell of baking yeast breads, cakes, and other homely odors. His aunt was an excellent cook, but Bessie Pickerel had come from a home that prided itself on its baked goods and Norwegian traditions.

"Come in, come in," Bessie welcomed them into the house. "Now, off with your boots right there," she pointed to a rug beside the door. "Here, Nissa. Come let's find the toys..." she knelt down and untied Nissa's cap. "Eric is up and ready for play! Are you ready to be a helper?" Bessie smiled at Nissa and pulled off her coat and cap.

"Nissa he'per," she shook her head soberly and trotted off to where she knew Eric would be.

"Here's a pot of coffee, and some sweet rolls for you two..." she handed David the pot of coffee and Gene the plate of sweet rolls. "I'm going back to my business, while you two entertain yourselves."

"I guess you know where that leaves us," David laughed and led the way to his study. "I've missed our talks, Gene. I wonder that you wouldn't do better with a nap though."

"I am pretty bushed, that's for sure," Gene took a sweet roll and began unwinding it's sticky sweetness. "But I can't eat this and sleep at the same time," he grinned at David.

"Okay, so we'll have a short talk while we eat...then you sleep until Doctor Foster arrives. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Bessie tells me you've dropped out of school since Jed took sick. That's pretty tough. You going to go back next quarter?"

"It's kind of like this, Uncle Jed won't be able to do much the rest of this spring. Besides, we're going to have to figure some way to pay for the doctor's bill and the medicine. I just figure I need to be doing what I can."

"I know how you feel. When my father and brother died in the canoe accident mother didn't have much money either. I took two jobs for a time...then Alistair found me a position at his law firm so I could work part time and continue my education."

"I don't know how we will work it out, there isn't much money out there," Gene said with a shake of his head.

"I heard...remember Howard, your school friend?"

David waited for Gene to shake his head.

"He's been hired by Mr. Goodnite to help gentle some horses. Howard was telling me just yesterday Mr. Goodnite's looking for another man to help. You're good with animals. You like horses too. Let me talk to Mr. Goodnite and see what he says. What do you think?"

"Yes, sir. I'd sure like that," Gene took another drink of his coffee and finished up his roll.

"You being all done with your roll, I'm going to just study for a while. You lay back there on the sofa...there's a pillow, and a cover...get some sleep now."

"Thank you, David."

Gene lay back on the sofa, and soon his breathing became measured and even with his sleep. David continued to study then he laid his Bible aside and bowed his head in prayer. Half an hour later there was a gentle knock and Bessie opened the door and stepped in.

"He's sleeping very sound isn't he?" she whispered.

"Yes. Agnes said he's been up trying to help her with Jed, and keep up Jed's work as well. He's got to be near exhaustion."

"Doctor called and he's going to be here in fifteen minutes. It' a shame to wake him..."

"I think I'll just go put on my winter gear and help with getting the wood stocked up for them. We'll let Gene sleep for a few more hours, if you don't mind?"

"No, I don't mind. Eric and Nissa are playing nicely, and it's about time for their lunch then naps."

"When he wakes up...send him on out with the auto and I'll drive it on home."

David and Bessie stepped out of the room and shut the door leaving the sleeping occupant.

David dressed in his warm winter clothes, made a few telephone calls, and stood waiting for his ride.

"Here," Bessie handed him a package. "Take this to mother. Tell her I'll ride out with Gene when he comes."

"I'll see you later then," he said as the doctor pulled to a stop in front of the house. He waved and slid into the passenger side.

"Gene, you have grown older since last we met," the doctor chuckled.

"He needed his sleep. I called some friends...and neighbors to come help get the Wades some wood laid in for the winter. They've always been good to help other folks, and they need some help now."

"Jed's going to be laid up for some time, and that's a fact."

"He must have been pretty sick."

"Well, he was sick in the first place. Then the stubborn mule wouldn't listen when Agnes told him to wait till Gene got home to help. He got down, don't know for how long he laid there till the lad got to him..." he clucked his disapproval.

"I'm glad we are all back and can help now," David said.

"That's a fact too. No one is as good a nurse as your mother-in-law. She's as good as they come. It was tough that she was away visiting when this happened. Well, here we are now. Let's go see how the patient is getting along," the doctor turned the motor off and reached for his black bag.

"The medicines are doing their job..." the doctor pulled the stethoscope off his ears and it hung around his neck. "Your heart is still weak, but it's coming back. Karena," he motioned for his helper. "David, bring me an easy chair. Karena, let's get this fellow into a chair for--Oh, I'd say about fifteen minutes," and the pair swung Jed around and sat him in the waiting chair.

David stoked the fire while they covered Jed with quilts.

"I have some Kringla and hot tea," Karena said bustling out to the kitchen.

"Are those your helpers?" Doctor Foster asked David as they heard machinery clattering up the drive.

David stood and looked out the window and down the drive. "Yes, I believe they are beginning to arrive."

"Finish up your tea Jed...this kringla is the best--Karena, you've out done yourself...David, help me move Mr. Wade over to the window for a look see, before we put him back to bed," the doctor ordered.

"There's more to you than meets the eye," David groaned as they helped Jed to the window.

"What's all that out there going on?" Jed tried to stand on his own.

"That's enough for this old man--David, help me get him back to bed. Those are your neighbors. They've come to help you and Agnes get some wood laid by. Now, you get some rest, and no more worrying."
********************************

Gene lay quiet trying to understand where he was. The room was familiar, but his mind whirled out of focus. Day...he struggled to grasp what time of day it was--sunlight slanted in...where he was--David's study! He sat up, his eyes flying open as it came to him. David was not in his study, the clock must surely be wrong...it read two thirty. Gene scrambled up and out the door, and headed for the sounds he heard coming from the kitchen.

"Miss Lewiston," he began, "I mean Mrs. Pickerel, where's David? I've overslept! I need to be at home!"

"Calm down. David went to help Father with the wood. He wanted you to get some rest. I have some leftovers that I've kept warm. You eat, and we'll all ride over with you."

"I was sleeping so sound!" Trembling, he dropped into the nearest chair. "I can't explain. I don't know what came over me. Give me just a few minutes...and maybe a glass of water, please?"

Bessie set the plate of hot roast beef and mashed potatoes on the table in front of him. "I'll get the children ready while you eat...take your time. Come on," Bessie turned to the children, "Nissa and Eric, let's put our toys away. We're going for a ride with Mr. Gene."

"Ooo," Nissa said.

Eric nodded,"Ooo."

Gene stacked the empty plate, glass, and silverware on the counter beside the sink. "If you are ready, let's go," he said as he grabbed his coat.

"I have a box of things if you can carry them out for me," Bessie said as she finished tying caps and buttoning coats.

"You've been mighty busy this morning!" he said groaning as he lifted the box.

"It isn't that heavy...!" she said with a laugh. "Set it in the back if you would, please. Nissa, Eric..." she opened the passenger side door and lifted them into the front seat. "You don't mind if we sit up here beside you do you? she asked.

"No, that's fine," Gene slammed the door shut. "You all in?" and he closed Bessie's door.

"You've done quite a bit of driving this year, I hear."

"I did last fall and into December, but since Jed's been sick I haven't."

"That's understandable. Mrs. Dorking complained to me just the other day about how difficult it was to find good help. You two sit still," she cautioned the babies.

"That so? I didn't know you and Mrs. Dorking were..." Gene could not think of the right term.

"In the same social group?" Bessie supplied.

"Yes, or social circles?"

"We aren't, at least not very often. I ran into her at Dolittle's the other day. She was asking if I knew anyone to take your place. I told her, no--Gene's not replaceable. She never did catch my meaning," she shook her head sadly, as she put out a hand to restrain Nissa.

"Thank you, but I'm sure they will find someone," he said with a frown. "Here, we are," he pulled up and parked beside a neighbor's truck. "What are all these trucks and things parked in here for, I can't hardly find a place to park?!"

"Neighbors still help neighbors around here," Bessie smiled. "Can you get the box?" she reminded. "Come on you two," she took a child's hand on each side and guided them toward the porch.

Agnes smiled at Gene, "Put the box on a chair in the kitchen... Mrs. Lewiston said David had left you to catch some more sleep."

"You can go on down to the wood lot," Karena said as Gene appeared. "They will be finishing up, but there may be still some stuff that needs to be done."

Gene's pinto was small compared to the draft horses Uncle Jed kept for work, but when he wanted speed and agility, Bobby was the best choice. Gene pulled a bridle on the pinto, and true to form, Gene had barely swung on to his back when he was off into a gallop.

They covered the distance quickly, and pulled to an abrupt stop.

"We, are not right now cleaning up. For you to do for later that we will leave. Even in the cold we can sweat," Jerrold Lewiston stopped to wipe his brow as he rested his axe on the log he was chopping... "Tether your pony...you can help load."

Gene dug into the work with fervor, and they were soon throwing the last of the winter supply of wood on the load.

"I'm sure the women have coffee and food in the house. Everyone tie up and head on in," David called as they finished piling the wood in back of the house.

"Howard! How are you doing?" Gene had not seen his school chum since last year. "Sure good to see you."

"Yeah, and you too. School days aren't the same any more," Howard lamented. "I feel so old," he laughed.

"You going to the high school next year?" the boys took their heaping plates in and sat in the corner beside the wood stove.

"I don't know," Howard said with a shrug. "I'm havin' trouble with Algebra...and my Latin's a struggle too...I've been working for Mr. Goodnite a couple of days a week. I kinda like farmin' and don't know that I need a lot more education. How you getting a long at the high school?"

"I'm staying home now, working the farm with Jed...with all the trouble I've had I'm thinking I might as well just figure on staying on the farm too."

"Always thought you'd amount to sumpthin', Gene. You don't struggle with education like some of the rest of us...don't you like high school? I saw some of your games this fall. There were some good games."

"Yes, and Coach Dorking says that by next year our team will be top of the district," Gene's face lit up. Then other thoughts crowded into his mind, and he frowned. He chewed in quiet thought. "You were always good in sports, Howard."

"Yeah, maybe a little...above average, but I think I'm better in memory than in...well, think about Reece. Now, he was good."

"Yes, he was a good ball player. He's in the Army now, though isn't he?"

"I guess after last spring when...," Howard did not need to finish.

"Yeah, it was his choice to enlist. He just turned seventeen a few months ago. He had to be seventeen didn't he?"

"Either that or they lied to get him in..."

"Do you like working for Mr. Goodnite?" Gene asked. "Not to change the subject, but,"

"This isn't the first I've worked for him. I worked for him a year ago, you know, and it has its benefits," Howard's face reddened.

Gene snickered into his bread and butter. "Besides the benefits, how's the work?"

"He's not bad to work for. Mr. Goodnite expects a good days' work, but he pays well and he's not unreasonable. Some men complain, but they're mostly the lazy ones that don't want to work in the first place." Howard thought a minute while he took a scoop of cream pie. "Say, if you're looking for work, I could put in a good word for you."

"David suggested maybe he'd say something to Mr. Goodnite. They don't live but across the field there," Gene motioned with his fork, I could continue working here with Uncle Jed as well."--

"Whew! I'm glad they came, but we sure had a houseful for a while," Gene said to Agnes.

"It is good to have good neighbors! There's enough wood for most of the rest of the winter in our wood pile. And look at all the food they brought--and left. The women even washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen before they left."

"About the only thing left now is to check on Uncle and make sure he's comfortable."

"He's been resting so much easier. Doctor said it will take him most of the spring to recover though," Agnes' looked at her hands then back at Gene. "I don't know...we can't expect the neighbors to help with the farm. Then there's the doctor bill. I know Doctor Foster won't press the matter, but," she said with a shrug.

"I've decided I'm not going back to high school," he held up a hand to silence Agnes' protest. "Now, just hear me out. I'll be able to do most of the farm work, and what I can't do I'll swap work for. David and Howard found me some work with Mr. Goodnite. I can work at least two days a week. He's got several orders for 'well-trained teams' and I can help him work with his horses. He said he liked the way I handled Bobby, and he could see I'd do a good job."

"Gene, I don't want you to give up your education."

"Well, I can be stubborn just like the rest of the Wades, and this is one time I won't budge. Besides, David's going to tutor me, and I'm going to help tutor Howard, and we have it all worked out!"

"What about your sports?"

"I enjoyed playing ball, but there are things that are more important. Let's go check on Uncle now."

Agnes sighed. "It seems providential. I know first hand how deep the stubborn streak runs in the Wade family. If they're nothing else, they definitely are stubborn!" She smiled at this boy that she loved so deeply. She was too proud to cry in front of him, but the memory of the day that Gene had found her sobbing into her aprons after that preacher had called him a charity child marched across his mind. The day he understood that he was not a charity case as other people had told him he was, the day when he found out he was going to be Jed and Agnes' child--by choice...
**************************************

"How are they working?" David asked Augustus as they watched Howard working on a green pair of horses.

"This pair...this pair is just a week out of the pasture. That's good, Howard. Enough for one session!" he called out.

Howard acknowledged his boss and turned them toward their stalls.

"This next pair," Augustus signaled Gene to bring out the next team. "This next team is fair ta middlin'. We've been working them two weeks longer than that other team, and they're comin' 'round v'ry well."

Both men leaned their arms on the top rail to the pasture fence as Gene brought out the pair then stopped just inside the gate.

"G'un," Mr. Goodnite waved the go ahead. "Take 'em on out." They watched as Gene chucked and the horses moved a head. "The one there keeps wanting to shake the bridle off...

"The teams look to be doing well, but what about the boys. How are they doing?"

"The boys are doin' well. I've had hired men that didn't do near as well."

"Times being so hard, you would think there would be more men willing to do a good job," David's brow creased.

"Wheel...I'm of the opinion," Mr. Goodnite said pushing his felt hat back on his head. "I'm of the opinion these lads are young, you see. They're just a hittin' their stride so to speak. Naw, some of the older men are slothful, and some of them would be harder workers, but they're older."

"So, you're saying you think it isn't so much that these men are all lazy..."

"Naw--I'm a thinkin' the Almighty's a preparin' these young fellas for somethin'. That's good, Gene...take 'em on in," Mr. Goodnite signaled.

"Could be, could be. Not something one wants to think on, but," David said with a shrug. "Just could be."

"You were in Europe last summer. What did you think, man? Sounds like there's a lot of unrest."

"England, of course, has a buffer--and France has built..."

"Fools! I say they're fools!"

"What makes you say that?"

"Wheel, naw, it's this way. I like horses, and workin' with horses, and such like. Do I think horses are going to be the way a transportation ah the future? Naw! Just because I like them I'd be a fool to think such a thing. Automobiles, trains, why, even airoplanes--those such things are the future."

"So you think..."

"Man--I tell you they're fools if they think the channel or the buffer zone they built in France--won't hold back the tide."

"Papa?" Wanda came around the corner to the stable. "Good afternoon, Mr. Pickerel," she stopped shyly at seeing David. "Excuse me...I didn't intend to interrupt..."

"No, daughter. What're you needin', girl?"

"Mama had a question at the house, was all."

"Tell your Mama I'll be in shortly, then."

"Yes, papa," she lingered a few seconds, her eyes searched the stables.

"Will you come to the house with me then? There will be coffee?"

Mr. Goodnite was a knowledgeable man, and had some well thought out opinions. "If it isn't an imposition, I'd come along for a visit," David said as a memory tweaked at his mind. "The boys can meet me at the house shortly if that's agreeable?"

"Surely, it will be," Mr. Goodnite nodded. "Howard, you and Mr. Wade will come to the house when finished here," they turned toward the house continuing their conversation.

Wanda blushed and smiled at Howard before she turned and followed back to the house.

"Naw, Mr. Trevor, and Mr. Wade," Augustus Goodnite had the interesting habit of calling the boys on occasion by their proper names. "Here is your pay for the month. I believe you're doin' a respectable job. I want the pair we've been workin' with gentled to ride as well as in a team...individual you see. Would you be willin' to each take one horse an work with it one on one?"

"Not a problem for me," Howard spoke out.

"No, I can do that," Gene agreed.

"G'd then. Tomorrow you may take them home. It's the possibility of a little extra for you both. If it sells out well, that is."

The boys pulled their jackets a little closer, and wrapped their scarves a little tighter before they mounted, to head for home. Both of these geldings were used to a saddle and bridle and they had been ridden around in the pen for about a week. This was their first experience outside the pen.

"Well, here goes," Howard said with a grin.

"Yeah, here goes," Gene agreed as the gate swung open, and the boys allowed their horses to stand in the open for a few minutes. The thought of the sleek chestnut horse he had been working with as a riding animal challenged Gene's interest. Both he and Howard worked well with the animals. However, this was a test for all involved.

"Okay, Bing, let's go," Howard clucked at his mount as if he were driving, and the horse moved forward. "I think I need to put the harness bridle on. He doesn't know how to react with just this one..."

"Come on Garnet," Gene worked the reins and they also moved forward then stopped. "The idea, Howard is to be patient."

"In a week things will be different," Howard spoke just before Bing realized he was not in the pen any longer, and began wandering at random.

"I'm sure that is so," and Gene urged his horse along the drive toward the road. "Giddup, Garnet!" he found himself trotting in the right direction with Howard coming along behind.
***********************************************

"The work with Garnet is rather slow, don't you think?" Agnes asked a week later as she stood watching Gene work his horse.

"Overworking them is not good. I want to ease into the training. To win his trust."

"He is a very good looking animal. Are you going to take him out on the road?"

"Yes, I thought I would ride toward town. I've been trying to acquaint him with different situations, things he might encounter...in a slow like manner. I'll be careful though," he anticipated her warning as she opened the gate for him.

The horse's hooves made a soft clopping sound as Gene rode onto the quiet backstreets. The sunlight filtered through the leafless trees in the early afternoon, and a few dogs barked an unfriendly greeting. There were a few parked automobiles, which Garnet shied away from at the first. He soon became accustomed to their sight, a good first step. Gene turned into another neighborhood where there were more barking dogs, and children were outside playing. Garnet danced away from each new experience, and sometimes Gene had to sit still speaking to and stroking the quivering neck until his horse calmed down enough to move on.

"What's yer horse's name, mister?" one youngster stood at his picket fence.

"Garnet," he answered. "What's your name?"

"Glenn," the boy said. "I've been sick, but now I'm better."

That's good, Glenn. If I ride up close to the fence do you want to pet him?"

"Oh, wow! Would I!"

"C'mon, Garnet," he clucked then gently nudged him with his heels. "C'mon boy!" Garnet slowly step by step walked up to the fence until the boy could reach over and touch the velvety nose.

"It tickles!" the boy laughed.

"Well, have a nice day, Glenn," Gene turned back to the street.

"Thanks!"

Gene waved with his riding quirt as the horse slowly continued.

"Let's head on home, boy," he turned down another street heading for home. "I think we've had enough for one day."

Honk! Honk! a car approached from behind.

Garnet was off like a shot down the road. Gene had no time to think, only time to react. Having ridden most of his life he just let him run for a little bit. Then bit by bit he began to rein him in, and in the end he walked him quietly down the lane and into the paddock.

"Any trouble?" Agnes asked later as he came into the house.

"Nothing I couldn't handle," he said.
*******************************************

"Are you going to the picnic Saturday afternoon?"

"I thought I would. What about you, Howard?"

"Wouldn't miss it for nothing," Howard always seemed to be grinning.

"Who you taking?"

"They're having one of those basket raffles..."

"Oh, I see," Gene said with raised eyebrows.

"It's a good cause...its going to help the community and all."

"Ah, right you are," he grinned at his friend, and Howard guffawed at him.

"You going to ride Bing over?"

"Yeah, he's coming along pretty good. How about Garnet?" Howard stroked his horse's neck.

"I've got him used to almost every thing by now. Started riding him in town a few weeks ago, and he's come right along. I'm pretty pleased with him. Hope Mr. Goodnite will be too. Guess I'll see you tomorrow night then," Gene turned Garnet toward home.

"Yes, siree. Plan on it!" Howard said with a wave as he turned the other way.

The auctioneer held up a pretty basket with a pink ribbon wrapped around the handle. "Who'll give me ten cents here?" the bidding began as some young man nodded. Fifteen cents? Who'll give me Fifteen...fifteen?" He stopped a moment and held the basket up. "There must be a whole chicken dinner in here from the feel of it! who'll give me fifteen cents?" The bidding went pretty heavy then, "Twenty-five? Going once, twice, there you go to the young man over there, twenty-five cents.

Twenty-five cents seemed to be the going price. Maude Summers basket brought forty-five cents due to some rivalry between young men. She had told more than one young man which basket was hers, and someone was determined to make the other one pay.

Now, this basket has not only the prettiest white cover with blue bells embroidered on it, but..." the announcer stopped and lifted the cover..."umm umm umm! I can't tell you what all's in here, but I know the young lady that prepared it, and can vouch for her ability..." he held the basket up. "Who'll give me ten cents?"

Gene's eyes twinkled with laughter. He knew whose basket it was too, as Howard nodded, someone else across the way nodded also, then Howard, then the other person. The bidding went pretty fierce. Everyone gasped as it went all the way up to a dollar.

"I thought that other fellow wouldn't ever give up," Gene chided Howard after the bidding stopped.

"Me neither!" Howard exclaimed. "Don't know who he was, but..."

"Somebody giving you a run for your money," Gene laughed.

"Yeah, probably so. Who's basket did you get?"

"I bid on Ruthie's."

"Ruthie's basket? Whatever for? She's more like a little sister."

"That's exactly why," Gene agreed.

"I told Gene," Ruthie Goodnite came up with her basket, "One day when I get older, he can be my beau. That's why. Come on, Gene. We can sit over here by Mama and Papa!"

Gene rode down the spring time street. The sunlight filtered through the budding leaves on the trees. The dogs barked, children ran to their yard fences as he approached, reaching out to pet the pretty horse. Garnet-- brushed to a brilliant sheen, his flaxen mane and tail floating in the breeze like silken banners waited patiently as they ran their small hands along his neck. Sometimes he would even bend his head down and blow softly on their fingers.

Gene chose streets at random, they were all familiar and after so many trips he lost track of where he was.

"Hello," a familiar voice called to him from the sidewalk in front of a big white house with a wrap around porch.

"Whoa," Gene stopped and turned the horse toward the speaker. "Hello, Angela. How are you doing?"

"I could lie, and tell you I'm doing fine, but that would go against our original agreement, wouldn't it?"

"Well, yes, it would," he looked down at her in her delicate spring dress. She was so fashionable, the color highlighted her fair complexion, golden hair, and her blue eyes. He thought she looked like a perfect life sized doll. "Are you on your way somewhere?" he asked.

"No. Only home."

"Garnet and I have a few moments," he said as the saddle creaked when he swung down. "Let's walk up to the park. We can talk on the way. That is if you would like."

"I would like that."

They walked silently for a few minutes before Angela stopped and confronted him. "Why don't you come back to school? Nothing's the same...and everything's wrong. Don't you miss school? Your friends, and all of that?"

"No, I don't miss school. I have friends where I'm at now. Most of the people at the high school weren't my friends."

"What about me?"

"I said most of the people. There were a few friends"

"Well, don't you miss me?"

"In what way, Angela?" he was concerned where this was leading.

"I mean our friendship. I didn't go to the Christmas ball...I didn't want to go with anyone but...I told them I was sick...And I was too," she spoke quickly when she saw the shock on his face. "I was sick of their hypocrisy, of their lying, of...of everything."