41 In the Flying Machine...

The hullabaloo drew Walter's attention just before the jerk threw him sideways. He clutched desperately for the side of the plane to avoid being thrown to the ground.

"Oh, no!" David moaned.

"Oh, Lord, help!" the words escaped Gene's lips without conscious thought. A picture flashed through his mind of his new friend being thrown to the ground, or falling helplessly from the plane.

"They're gonna hit the fence!" Mitch and Ike hollered as they came running in time to watch the airplane gain speed. It bumped and swerved along the hard cow path for a spell as Walter fought to stay on board.

Albert flopped to the left side with the starting jerk. He continued to flail from side to side with every bounce and jerk. Attempting to right himself, he grabbed at every thing and anything...his eyes grew large in his long pale face as the fence at the end of the cow pasture began to race toward him.

"Oh, good Lord! My Pa's gonna kill me! he said with a loud groan as the momentum of the vehicle increased dramatically.

"The whole thing's gonna be busted up!" Mitch shouted.

"Well, I'll be ding..."

"That'll be enough young man!" Ike's father twisted his ear. "When we ought to be askin' the favor of the Almighty, there's no reason to go offendin' Him with foul language!"

The spunky little plane lifted clear of the fence by a hair's breadth, and skimmed over the head of the driver in the fancy automobile a few seconds later.

Ahhh Ooga! the horn bellowed as it careened down the road a short distance before it crashed into the ditch coming to rest at the foot of a scrubby, twisted tree.

The group on the ground watched in horror and amazement as the red and black airplane evened out and barely rose above the tree tops its motor buzzing.

"Pastor Dave, lead us in a prayer fer them youngun's," Mr. Stroll said as he removed his hat and bowed his head.

Every one bowed their head also as Mr. Pickerell began in his deep reverent voice, "Almighty God, we come before thee beseeching thee on behalf of those two young men suspended in your heaven. Be merciful and return them to us soon...and safely for it is in Jesus name that we ask--Amen.

"Amen!" Mr. Stroll nodded decisively. He clapped his straw hat back on his graying hair, and looked up into the blue sky expectantly.

"Well, looky there!" Ike shouted as the airplane circled back toward them.

Every one craned their neck watching as the plane flew overhead. It appeared as if Walter was perched half inside the plane still clutching onto--what they could not tell. They watched as it flew on north and made a wide swing and came back from the south. It looked like it was coming in lower, but still too fast.

"They's gonna take the weather vane off the barn!" Mrs. Stroll half screamed and ducked--although she could have known they were not going to hit her.

The next time around Walter was at the controls. The little airplane came in, touched down with a slight bounce, then settled into the business of rolling toward the group gathered in the barnyard. Walter cut the engine and sat head in hands.

Albert Bluey looked--if possible--more pale than when he had woke up after the filly had left him behind in the dust.

"Oh, gol..., I'm sorry Mr. Pickerell--Mr. Stroll," he stammered. "But, I am so thankful--! I'm so thankful!" from the look on his thin face he spoke the truth. "I'm so thankful," he repeated.

"Yes, we are all thankful. And I believe we've had enough adventure today. Let's get this contraption rolled back into the shed!" Mr. Stroll, David, and the boys took their places and maneuvered the little ship back into the shed.

"Alright, Albert we'll give you a hand, but step careful now," David instructed.

Albert's legs wobbled, but he stepped out with help. He half stepped and half slid his way to a bale of hay. He flopped down and lay back with a groan.

"How are you doing?" David called from the ground up at Walter.

"We had visions of...of...very bad things for a time there," Gene crawled up on the wing to speak to Walter, who had regained a portion of his composure.

"You had visions of...? You should have been dangling out over nothingness..." Walter said with wonder. He pulled out his white handkerchief to wipe his face.

"We prayed for you. God listened."

"So that's who put me into the seat. I thought someone must have heaved me in somehow," Walter sat quiet for a short pause. "Remind me to stay away from that--that--Nemesis--I've never seen any one get into as many...situations... as Albert there!"

"You don't know the half of it! I could tell you stories about Albert and the automobile. Albert and the cow. Albert and..."

Enough!" Walter threw up his hands. "Enough...I lived through Albert and the airplane. That's good enough for me--" At that Gene and Walter began to roar with laughter until tears streamed down their faces.

"I wonder what ever happened to those guys in the automobile," Walter wiped his face again. "You should've seen the driver's face!" he began choking with laughter. "His eyes looked like this--" Walter's eyes and mouth flew wide open.

"I gotta get off this wing...before I roll off...!" Gene went into hysterics as he clambered down to the ground. He fell back on the hay bales gasping for air. "Oh, hallelujah! What a day!" He got his breath back as Walter threw himself down on the bale beside him.

"Wal...I don't know what you two find so funny!" Albert's brown eyes looked much darker in his droll face. "I just don't know when I've ever been so skeered in my whole life!"

Gene elbowed Walter, "Show Albert the--the--the face!" he began to hoot all over again.

"You didn't get a look at that driver's face, Albert. I could have shook hands with him I was that close...and his face. I've never seen a face like--it was like this," and Walter's features flew into the look.

"That is kinda funny," Albert snickered, "but I think I've looked like that myself a time or two..." then they all three roared at the joke.

"Next time you go up, it might be wise to plan first, Albert!

"It wasn't my fault. I was just sittin' there mindin' my own business. It's that dumb mutt what's always slobberin' and barkin' at--everything!"

"David went down to check on the driver, and the occupants of the automobile. Maybe they'll stop frequenting this territory," Gene said.

"Maybe," Walter shrugged. "I say we've had enough excitement for one day, let's head on home."

"Yeah, I think you're right. Albert, if you want I'll give you a ride down to your corner..." Gene offered.

"I guess. I'm thinking I ought to just walk, but I don't know if my legs would carry me that far right now."

"I won't tell him this horse hasn't ever been ridden double," Gene whispered to Walter.

"Are you tempting fate or..." Walter rolled his eyes.

Gene just grinned in answer. "Let's ride then," he swung up on Samson then kicked his foot out of the stirrup so Albert could mount. Samson's ears flew back, his head arched down, but he stood his ground.

"Keep your feet off his flanks, and we ought to be all right," Gene spoke over his shoulder. The threesome rode quietly across the field taking the usual short cut, then half a mile to where the Bluey farm lane met the road.

"Here you are. It's not all the way home, but close," Gene waited while Albert swung down careful not to touch the flank.

"Thanks, Gene. It's closer than I was. See you tomorrow."

"Have a good night then, we'll see you later!" the boys waved then kicked the horses into a lope toward home.

"I knew those Stroll boys would get you two into some kind of mess! Oh, my!" Agnes sank down with a thunk. "What would we ever have told your parents, Walter Henrey!"

Gene raised his eyebrows at Walter as they exchanged glances. Neither one had expected Agnes to take the news so hard.

"Now--Mrs. Wade, it's all part of being a..."

"It's part of being a man, Agnes. You gotta get used to the fact. Walter--he's a grown up...young adult, and...?" Jed blinked away the visual image of Gene standing on a precipice--the verge of manhood. The idea hit Jed with a sudden wallop. He turned away to hide his reaction, and spied the three layer chocolate cake sitting on the counter. He reached for the knife, "Here, have a piece of cake, boys," he said sliding big pieces of cake on to plates.

"Jed, you'll spoil their supper," Agnes looked up startled.

"Naw! They're growin' boys--besides the way they're goin' we best let 'em have their cake now."

"Jed!" Agnes screeched then caught the ornery twinkle in his eyes. "Jedidiah Wade! Course you boys can have cake...my father used to say, 'eat your dessert first...'," Agnes fanned herself. "I'd say you two have had enough adventure for today."

"Thank you, Mr. Wade," Walter accepted the plate. "I don't think I've ever seen a more appetizing cake."

"This is really good!" Gene said. "It wasn't really the Stroll boys fault--or even Albert's," Gene stopped and took a bite.

"Really, Mrs. Wade, it was just--" Walter stopped to think. "I'd say, just dumb luck."

"I'd say 'dumb luck' happens too often with them two!"

"Yes, and Albert Bluey," Jed chimed in. "That boy--it 'pears to me--is always right in the middle of something!"

"Yeah, he can't help it," Gene said. "He isn't any dumber than most of us. I think he just has a knack."

"A knack?"

"He can be standing there minding his own life, and chance comes along and hits him alongside the head!"

"I don't think that's a good knack to have."

"Well, maybe not, but so far he's pretty close to a one talent man..."

"Oh, Nissa!" Agnes was teaching her daughter to use her spoon neatly. "Here, honey..."

"It's time for us to head out to the field. Won't take us long."

"Supper will be in about an hour and a half, so don't dally--" Agnes finished cleaning the cake off of Nissa's plate. "That's all, baby," she smiled and showed her the empty plate.

"Aww gone," Nissa repeated and held up her pudgy baby hands.
************************************

Walter lay awake in the night. With his eyes closed he still experienced the texture on the fuselage, the desperation of getting into the inside of the ship safely. He could smell the fear, and feel the adrenalin pulsing through his veins. Yes, it was funny, but there was more truth in his words than laughter. "Someone must have heaved me in somehow." Walter did not remember how he found strength to get into the plane. He remembered scrambling to gain a hand or foot hold, and then he was inside.

He opened his eyes to the dark. The conversation from the chess game came back to him..."I believe in God. You can't have something without a creator. Nothing comes from nothing."
*****************************

"I don't know how it happened, Agnes."

"What do you mean?" The rocker creaked softly on the porch boards. Agnes crooned a quiet childhood ditty, and Nissa, sleepy eyed, began drifting into sleepy land.

"What I mean is...have you looked at our boy lately?" anger and confusion smoldered in Jed's eyes.

"Well," Agnes drug the word out with a sigh. "Yes, I have," she smoothed the baby's fine tawny hair off of her forehead. "Yes, I have."

"He's growed up! When did...how?" he faltered his Bible resting on his knee.

"It's going to be powerful hard to let him go. That must be why God sent us Nissa..." Agnes continued to stroke the soft baby skin.

"Let him go?" His voice held a note of horror.

"Yes, let him go. God has a purpose for each of us. Our lives will always be twined, but the paths don't necessarily go parallel at all times."

"I guess I never thought..." the velvet darkness had settled around them.

"We saw a change when he came back from Europe. He settled back into our life so easy like, maybe we thought we could keep him here. But there was a subtle change on the inside, Jed. A change that was deeper than the fine clothes he wore."

"I don't see how he could be more of my son if we had birthed him ourselves. When you've suffered and worked, and--side by side--," he paused. "I know you're right. It's just, time has passed so quick. Gene's only sixteen...going on seventeen, but it's gone so fast. And I'm afraid of the future. The government goin' the way it is here at home. People's just plain foolish!"

"And what we can see of the rest of the world isn't reassuring. We thought the last world war was the one to end them all...awful, awful things," she said with a shudder.

"Things look to be darkening on all sides."

"It's time for bed. You want to take Nissa? I have some things to put away in the kitchen then I'll be up."

"Yes, let me have the little tyke," he put his Bible on the arm of the chair and took the baby from Agnes. Jed knew it was best to let the troublesome thoughts rest. Morning would come and things would look brighter then.

"This is the best bacon and eggs, Mrs. Wade, and these biscuits are so light! You'll have to give Mother the recipe for our cook--" Walter slathered homemade butter and plum butter on his steaming hot biscuit.

"I'm sure your cook has plenty of biscuit recipes, Walter."

"She may have, but none of them beat yours!"

"Well, thank you. That is so kind of you," she smiled with pleasure.

"I think today we'll just go...?" Jed began, but the telephone jangling interrupted him. "I don't know...who could that be?" he stumped out to where the telephone hung just inside the kitchen.

"Hello?!" he never had gotten the notion out of his mind that sound traveled over the wires and he didn't need to talk loud just to be heard. "Hello? Yes, Mr. Henrey! Yes, Walter's right here. Just a Minute."

"Yes, sir?" Walter held the receiver to his ear, and spoke into the mouth piece. "Well...yes, sir. Any time you are ready...Yes, I will be ready. I'll see you soon. Good bye," he hung up.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Wade," he turned to the family. "Father is going to be taking Mother for a 'pleasure' drive. They will be in Littleton for lunch and wish to stop out and pick me up early afternoon. Something has come up quite suddenly, and--"

"That is quite all right, Walter," Jed held up his hands. "I was thinking we could go fishing, but--God willing--there will be another time. Get your gear packed, and you boys better hurry around if there's any good bye saying that you need to do..."

"Thank you both. I have enjoyed my visit with you so much. Yes, there are several things I need to do before leaving. Gene, come help me pack..."

"Sure, I'll come with you. I've got something I want to give you..." the boys' voices faded out as they hurried up the stairs.

"I don't know--but it sounded urgent to me," Jed frowned as Agnes began clearing the table.

"Urgent? Why would it be urgent? Do you suppose it has to do with those rumors about the Dorkings...and Angela?"

"How would I know," he almost snapped.

"Jed! You don't have to be angry at me...I was just wondering aloud."

"I know, Peaches. There's just been so many queer things happening lately."

"We'll find out soon enough, I guess. I'll fix a nice dessert and plan on a small luncheon for when they arrive...just in case they have time for a visit..." Agnes thought out loud. "Just in case..."

s 40 "hey!"

Too late Eileen saw Angela, and her guests. Her face flamed with embarrassment...

"I'm sorry," the hotel manager said, "the tables are all taken. You will have to come back tomorrow."

Greg surveyed the posh dining room with elegant table settings and the well dressed patrons. His eyes stopped, and narrowed. Anger rose in his heart when he recognized Gene Wade. The nerve of that dirt farmer, sitting next to Angela and snickering. Greg knew who he was laughing at... "Yeah, well you can tell those farmers to leave, and we'll just take those seats..."

"I'm sorry," Mr. Wappleburg glanced in the direction Greg Bilker pointed. "I see no 'farmers'. Only Guests of his Lordship, and Le Comte Bouchette."

"Come on Greg," Eileen hissed. "I don't want a scene!" she turned to leave.

"I want..." his voice rose belligerently.

"Well, I don't!" Eileen walked back out the door as fast as she could, wishful that no one...especially Angela's friend, Walter, had seen her...

"Excuse me," Walter stood. "I think there are a few minutes before the musicians begin."

"I'll be right back, Angela," Gene followed close behind Walter.

Greg Bilker followed Eileen out the door, "Just where do you think you're going?" he snatched angrily at her. "I said we would come for the show, and I'll get us..."

Eileen pulled away. "Greg, I don't want to come here. I just want to leave. Let my arm loose!" she tried to pull away.

"Eileen!" his fingers dug into her wrist.

"You're hurting me...let me go!" she cried.

"Would you mind?" Walter said as he removed his tailored evening coat and handed it to Gene.

"No--that's quite alright," Gene accepted the coat. "Anything else you would care for me to hold?"

"I think that should do it...I shan't be long here. Pardon me," Walter tapped Greg on the shoulder. "Don't you know--that's not the way you treat a lady?"

"Butt on out buster, this isn't any of your affair," Greg snarled.

"Greg, just leave me alone!" Eileen pulled free.

"Alright! You asked for it--" Greg wound up a punch as he turned toward his opponent.

Pop! Walter's fist caught him in the nose. Pop, pop...two quick jabs to the jaw. Before Greg knew what had happened he was leaning against the lamp post, holding a handkerchief to his bloody nose, wondering just what was going on.

"Sorry, but you would have it...I told you, that is no way to treat a lady. Would you care for another go round?" Walter wiped his brow with his immaculate white handkerchief.

"Why you...!" Greg dropped his handkerchief and took a step toward this interloper.

Walter handed his handkerchief to Gene then up came his fists, "Go ahead...I'll give you the first punch," he offered.

"The rest of you boys just back off. I wouldn't make any hasty moves on your part," Gene warned Greg's other two friends.

Greg was a good fighter, but in one fluid motion Walter moved out of the way of Greg's punch and with the same fluid motion came back with two solid punches of his own then delivered two more swift punches for added emphasis.

"Your coat?" Gene held out the item. Greg's buddies stood google-eyed, not sure what to do.

"Yes, I think we are done here," Walter slipped back into his evening coat, and tucked his handkerchief into its place.

"Eileen..." he offered her his arm. "Would you care to join us?"

Eileen's upward gaze into his face focused only on his sympathetic brown eyes. Her heart did a thousand flips in those few seconds. "Yes," she whispered. She draped her evening wrap over her reddened wrist and accepted his arm.

The whole fracas had appeared framed in the hotel window, almost like a picture show. Wait! Wait! mentally Angela's mind shouted. She squelched the desire to run out and stop the show. Walter was her friend. He was there embedded in her memory from the earliest moments. Now she saw him slipping away...but he had always been a brother figure in her mind, nothing more. It could not be jealousy that she felt, or could it?

Eileen had been her mother's pick for a guest, not someone Angela considered as a friend. Too many feelings, too many emotions crowded into her world as the three some approached the table.

"Let's rearrange our seating," Walter suggested. "Gene, you sit where I sat, and I'll sit where Gene sat, and..."

"I'll move down one space, and Eileen can sit in between," Edgar moved over to the last empty seat.

The waiter brought a glass of water for Eileen, and the lights dimmed slightly as the first notes began to float over the hushed audience.

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

"Chance. Just pure chance. That's what brought us together," Lord Hughes told David.

"I would attribute it to the providence of God, myself." David dabbed at his mouth and slid his chair back from the table. "We could retire to my study and let the girl clear the table?"

"I suppose it it difficult to secure competent help out here in the wilderness," Philip Bouchette added. "No matter, we can fend for ourselves--Miss? I would like some tea...in the library, please."

David smiled, amused at his acquaintances' idea of 'fending for themselves', and living in the 'wilderness'.

"This way," David showed the pair to his library. "It will be a few weeks before Bessie is out of 'confinement'. She and the new baby are resting comfortable now...thankfully. However, if you don't mind...have a seat while I dash up and make sure all is well with Bessie and the little one..."

"Right then, we'll just take a look around," Lord Hughes said.

"I'll be right back. Nora..." David was off on his errand.

"This is quite a comfortable little cottage," the count said seating himself on the sofa.

"How the local people live here year round is beyond me," Lord Hughes exclaimed as he perused the books on the shelves.

"It would be quite a strain...I would find it necessary to import competent help. Everyone is so...green. No one knows the first thing about etiquette really."

"In some ways that is what is so appealing about this country. It's so new, so rough..."

David opened the door, careful not to drop anything. "Bessie's resting peaceful, and so is the baby. Here, Nora," he spoke over his shoulder to the young girl that was bringing the hot water. "Just put the pot on the coffee table there. Did you two make yourself comfortable?" he put the tray down next to the pot of hot water. "After you clear the table, wash and put away the dishes, then you may go home."

"Yes, Mr. Pickerell."

"Thank you, Nora." David said as she backed out the door.

"I did not know that you were studying for law?" Lord Hughes snapped the book shut he had been holding and replaced it on the shelf.

"Actually, I have already finished. I have done small cases as well as teach school and preach," David ran his fingers through his thick dark hair.

"Then you can appreciate all the more fully the case we have been working on," Lord Hughes sat down and took the cup of hot tea that David handed him.

"I certainly can. In this day of enlightenment it is unthinkable that people can just 'poof' disappear!" David handed the Count his cup. "Would you care for some sugar?" he held up the sugar bowl. "So does Angela know?"

"Not exactly...the Henreys are staying with the Dorkings. We want to make sure we have all of the legal points covered before we make any moves. Maybe we should have you look over these papers to see if you think we've missed anything..."

"I can do that if you would like," David moved the tea service to his desk in order to spread the papers out.
*****************************

"All the adventures have been had," Albert Bluey said with a dejected sigh and laid back on the grassy road bank, and stuck a piece of fox tail grass in his mouth. "There's nothin' new under the sun...just like it says in the Bible."

"Oh come on Al, that can't be true. Why, just think-- a couple of weeks ago you got your first broke rib!"

"That wasn't an adventure! But my Pa said if it ever happened again it would be an adventure..." Albert wore a sheepish grin.

"Last year I tried smokin' a cigarette, but that wasn't an adventure," Mitch said.

"I thought about trying some tobacco. My pa smokes a pipe on occasion..." Albert sat up again.

"My Pa caught me a smoking that thing...he rolled me up several and made me smoke ever one a them...I was so sick! I liked ta died, I was so sick! I never want to see another one a those things!"

"Maybe I don't want to try that after all...it's just too bad there isn't anything exciting no more," Albert laid back in the grass.

"You know, now that you mention it," Ike Stroll sat with his arms around his knees, "when we was cleaning out one of the stalls in the back of the barn--you'll never guess what I found..." he looked around the group of boys.

"Well, tell us what you found!" Kenny Trevor spoke up after what seemed like a long pause.

"I tell you what...Ma is frying doughnuts today. Let's go to our place and I'll show you what I found--"

Missus Stroll set the heaping platter of hot fried doughnuts on the table, "Eat up now, boys!" she exclaimed with hearty encouragement. She was a big boned motherly woman. She and her only daughter were always busy with the housekeeping, meals, and daily routine.

The boys took doughnut after doughnut, but the platter was kept full and always there was the encouragement for them to, "Eat up! There's a-plenty where those came from!"

"I'm sure I'll bust if I eat any more!" Larry Hill moaned as he finished off his tenth doughnut.

"...maybe I'll just eat one more little one...Albert--where are you stuffing those you've eaten! And you're so skinny!"

"I've got a hollow leg. I just put them in there when you're not looking...for eatin' later," the tall young man grinned as he stuck the last of one in his mouth and picked up the next hot doughnut. "These is real good Missus Stroll. Course I got ta say my ma's is best--family and all--but put side to side, I'd be hard pressed to choose!"

"Now, Albert, you're right. Stand behind your Ma...and I've tasted her cookin' she is a mighty good cook...but I thank you for the compliment!"

"It's the truth, ma'am!" he finished up his doughnut.

"Ma, I got something to show the fellas out in the barn...when they're done eating."

"Ike, now don't go getting into no foolishness--you hear me now boys?" she wagged a warning finger at them.

"Yes, ma'am," Ike and Mitch chorused. "Come on, boys. Let's go," Ike eyed the way the group was devouring the doughnuts.

"Thank you, ma'am," the boys stuffed the last of their doughnuts in their mouth as they filed out of the house. Dust rose from their bare feet as they crossed the farm drive way, and ambled into the darkened barn.

"It's back here in this big back stall..." Ike led the way to a dark out-of-the-way stall in the back of the big barn. He leaned against the wall so the boys could crowd around and see his find.

"Oh! Now that's a find!" Albert breathed reverently as if it had been the Holy Grail. "Can I touch it?"

"Sure, it looks sturdy enough..."

"When did you find that?" Ike's brother Mitch frowned at him. "Why didn't you tell me about it first?"

"Pa sent me to clean back in here this morning. I woulda told you about it, but the fracas in the hen house right before lunch time clean knocked it out of my mind. That is, till we were sitting on the bank there, and Albert was feelin' sorry for hisself..."

"What kind of...boat do you think it is?" Albert caressed the wooden frame with his long calloused fingers. "What's it got all them doodads there on it for?"

"Albert!" Mitch burst out, "Albert, don't you know an airplane when ya see it?!"

"An...airplane? Oh, wow!" Albert stopped stroking the wood, "You aren't pulling a fast one on me now are you?" his eyes narrowed and he squinted at the Stroll brothers. "Like the time you told me about that automobile out by the haystack..."

"Now, Albert we was just funnin' ya that time...no, Al, this is the real thing. That there is an airplane frame. Look--see here--you take some kind of material, attach it onto the frame, cover it with dope, and..."

"Ya, I see. The only dope is me! What would an airplane be doing in the back of this here barn? You suppose it's gonna fly back here? An there ain't no motor on it neither! And 'zactly how's it gonna get out of here? Just tell me that, will ya!"

"He's got a good point there," several other voices agreed with Albert.

"I tell ya what, Al," Ike pushed his Doolittle Feed store cap to the back of his head. "Mitch, you run see if you can find Pa. He knows some about airplanes, he can tell us what he thinks."
************************************************

"Mr. Dorking, why in all these years, didn't you even attempt to find Angela's family?"

"That's not quite true, Sir Hughes. We did wonder, and even look, but there was nothing in her mother's belongings that gave a next of relation," Bill Dorking wiped the perspiration from his brow.

"We raised her like she was our own daughter. Took care of her, and saw to it she had everything she needed!" Mrs. Dorking spoke with an indignant air.

"You lived quite well at that," Sir Hughes sat back on the sofa assessing the couple before him. "On Angela's money..."

"You wouldn't want her to be raised like a pauper, now would you?" Mrs. Dorking sniffed.

"So, what do you propose to do?"

"I'm not exactly sure--" Lord Hughes turned at the knock on the library door.

"You wanted me?" Angela opened the door and peeked into the room.

"Yes, Angela. Come in and shut the door please," Mr. Dorking smiled at her.

"Angela, would you like to come stay at Oak Park with the Henreys and myself for a few weeks?" Sir Hughes asked.

"I don't know," Angela's eyes opened wide and she grasped at her lace collar. "I--don't know..."
*************************************

"I'm working a couple of four year olds for my employer. I'd like to take them out if you don't mind...First, let's go up to the house for a few minutes. I've got some things I want to show you before we go out." Gene reached down and scratched Shep behind the ears. "Stop your whining, you old scoundrel!" he scolded.
Aunt Agnes! Uncle Jed!" he called as the screen door slapped shut behind Walter Henrey and himself.

Walter stood with his hands in his pockets perusing the family pictures on the walls in the living room. He stopped to run his fingers over a well worn Bible laying on a small table in the corner close to the colonnade between the dining room. Such a small house he thought, but spotlessly clean and well kept. Nice furniture, with the look of family treasures. Out of the corner of his eye the color pink caught--and drew-- his attention to the open stair door.

"Hello there," he smiled at the little blond cherub perched primly on the bottom step. She continued to observe him silent as a cat, thumb secured in her mouth.

"We won't be late for supper," Gene's voice called over his shoulder as he bustled into the room. "Come on Nissa," he caught up the little bundle and taking two steps at a time carried her along with him leading the way to his bedroom.

That was an odd thing Walter had noticed about this new found acquaintance. Like a battery full of stored energy, Gene did not look like anything out of the ordinary, but he was boundless in many surprising ways.

Although the bedroom was small compared to what Walter was accustomed to, it was neat and comfortable. The room contained a four poster bed covered with the hand sewn nine-patch quilt, the polished wood floor was covered with one large home made rag rug, and several smaller rugs placed around the room, a dresser as well as a bureau matched the bed, a desk and chair took up one corner, and a trunk sitting at the end of the bed completed the furnishings.

While Gene was busy thumbing through several sketches and drawings with one hand, and holding the little girl with the other, his friend was at liberty to look at the projects hanging on the walls, or in cases.

"You must be always busy!" he exclaimed. "My father's conservatory doesn't look half this busy! Whose picture is this?" Walter stopped to scrutinize an oval picture in a dark colored frame. The tall slim man in a stylish suit with a serious, but not quite austere air stood beside a graceful large-eyed, dark-haired beauty in a taffeta and lace gown and a matching taffeta and lace hat. She held in her gloved hands a dainty bouquet.

"Don't Nissa--" Gene shook his head as Nissa patted his face. "That's my father and mother," he turned to look at what Walter was looking at. "My father was killed in an accident, and my mother died shortly there after. My Uncle and Aunt adopted me, and I've been here ever since."

"That's tough--about your parents--but I say, they're quite a dashing couple. You and your Uncle look so much alike...but now I can see why. There's such a family resemblance."

"Most people think of us as father and son," he stopped looking through his drawings. "Nissa! You little minx!" he smiled at her as she threw her pudgy little arms around his neck.

"Wuv you!"

"Love you, too. Here--let brother put you down on the chair. Here's a sheet of paper and pencil, while I show Master Walter brother's sketch..."

"You're very patient," Walter took the sketch Gene held out to him. "This is very good--why are you sketching airplanes?" he examined the different layouts of wings, and fuselage.

"Some neighbor boys found the frame of an airplane in their barn," Gene grinned.

"And they think they're going to finish it and..." Walter laughed. "Do they have any idea about--flying, or--any of this?" he waved a hand over the sketches.

"Naw, we're all pretty green at this. David is helping. He has some experience, and I found some blueprints, and some drawings at the library in town. You mentioned that you had helped build and fly a plane...I thought maybe we could..."

"Sure. I can take a look, maybe, do you have a motor?"

"Well, somebody's brother has a friend that has a motorcycle that they're going to let us have."

"It'll have to be remodeled, you know," Walter scratched his chin. "But it can work."

"Let's ride on over then, and take a look--" Gene rolled up his sketches and stuck them under his arm, and helped Nissa down off her chair. "You going to help make some cake?" he took her hand.

"We'll be back before chore time!" he handed Nissa to his Aunt. "We're riding the bays over to the Stroll farmstead. We'll be gone for a couple of hours."

"You be careful now...them Stroll boys have a knack for mischief and you don't need any of that!" Agnes warned.

"I know, but David should be there, so maybe things will be calm," he reassured her.

"Humpf! We'll see--don't be late,now."

"I don't usually saddle my own mount. Father was adamant when I first began riding that I learn how to take care of my animal, but after I became proficient he wasn't as strict," Walter pulled the cinch up tight then dropped the stirrup down.

"I'm the chap that does it all here. I've been working horses for Mr. Goodnite since spring," Gene slipped the bridle on his horse and unlatched the halter and hung it on the peg in front of him. "Uncle Jed came down with pneumonia last winter. I've stayed home to help in the field and do the farm work. We were needing money for the doctor bills and things...Mr. Goodnite was looking for a hand, and it worked for both of us," he finished with a shrug. "Your horse's name is Shamgar--Sham for short."

"That's an odd name," Walter laughed as they led their horses to the barn door.

"Mine's Samson. Mr. Goodnite allowed me to name them...I figured I'd start with the Judges," Gene flipped the reins over his horse's neck, stuck his foot in the stirrup and swung up.

"You folks must be very religious," Walter stepped into his stirrup and did likewise.

"Religious?" Gene blinked in surprise. "Why's that?"

"I'd never have thought to name horses after Judges out of the Bible, is all."

"Oh, folks do stuff like that all the time around here--doesn't mean they're religious--maybe they're just desperate."

"Desperate?"

"Well, they can't think of anything else and it's Bible names what comes to mind."

The boys both laughed as they clucked their horses into a trot down the lane toward the road.

"Is this farmstead far?" Walter asked.

"No. You can see it from here--across the section, but you can't get there from here."

"I'm thinking you've got an odd way of expressing yourself..."

"Just follow me. You'll see what I mean. I've been working these two slow and easy, so we won't flat out run them."

"You lead the way, then. Don't worry about me."
******************************************

"Watch it! Watch it!" David cautioned the boys as they carefully positioned the motor. "Whew!" He said and wiped his forehead with his handkerchief. "This airplane is finally taking shape. It won't be long before it's in running order.... By the way, Walter, how long will you be with us yet?"

"Father and Mother will be leaving soon, and probably Sir Hughes. They have already stayed much longer than anticipated..." Walter turned to Gene, "If you follow these steps here," he traced with a finger on the blue prints.

"Okay, I understand," Gene nodded and turned back to the work they needed to do next.

Walter stepped back to talk with David. "So, I'm not sure that we will be here another week even..."

"I helped build a glider back a few years ago," David said, "but since you have built your own plane, and have a pilot's license--well, I don't need to tell you how indispensable that has been! I was hoping you'd be around when we get it together."

"We're gonna have to go do chores in a little bit, Mr. Pickerel," Mitch and Ike came to stand beside David and Walter. "We have everything in place and hooked up that Gene gave us to do."

"I need to be headin' on home too," Albert said as he scooped up a kitten. "Mitch these things are the cutest fool things. My Ma's been wanting a couple of cats--we got mice so blamed--'scuse me, Mr. Pickerell, I didn't mean..." Albert blushed bright red, "but we got mice awful bad."

"I think Ma and Pa would be willing to part with a couple of kittens. I'll ask and let you know," Mitch said reaching out and poking at the kitten with a piece of straw. "They are purty cute at that," Mitch snickered as the kitten vigorously batted at the straw with its tiny paws. "Ouch!" he pulled his finger back as the sharp claws caught on his finger instead. He looked at the school teacher and stuck his finger in his mouth to keep from saying anymore.

"You boys have done a fine job with finishing this project," David stood back to assess how far they had come. "The skin is on, the wings are on, the engine has been converted and it's in place--there's just some fine tuning and it should be ready for a test. I'm hoping we can have it going before Walter has to leave..."

"I guess we'll come by tomorrow after school--maybe Saturday we'll have it ready?" Albert let the kitten jump down and run after its playmates that were rolling in the straw and clambering over a stack of lumber.

"We'll use that as a target anyway. Gene? Walter? I'll pick you up tomorrow after we're done with school?"

"That will be fine. We'll see you then tomorrow. Good night..." Gene and Walter waved at the rest of the boys as they each left walking or riding.

"I've enjoyed working on this," Walter grasped the reins on his horses bridle and mounted. "It will be good to get it finished though."

"It has been fun having you stay with us for the last week."

"I've enjoyed your Uncle and Aunt very much. They have a much more simple life than we do, but that's not all bad."

"Having lived in both situations it reminds me of a Bible verse--'I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content.'

"That's a good idea...whatsoever state--be content. I'm quite happy to live the way I normally do. I don't know that I want anything different, but...that's still good. Be content."

They rode on in silence. Walter's eyes searched the landscape as he thought on what would it be like to live in the manner that these farmers did.

"My family has always had money--and wealth. We've always done what we wanted to in life..." Walter paused not sure of what he wanted to say.

"Money and wealth doesn't always bring happiness," Gene said.

"Yes, that's true. I had an Uncle that lost everything in the crash. It drove him crazy. Father had been more wise, and much more careful. The crash hurt us in some ways, but--" he shrugged.

"Your parents seem so nice. Quiet and not--this is an odd term maybe, but not haughty and prideful."

"They both have impressed on me that it is how you treat those who have less than yourself that shows the true character of a person. They were both excited with the prospect of my visit with you and your family."

Gene's face wore a puzzled look. "Why ever for?"

"They are both impressed with your Aunt and Uncle. Father liked some of your Uncle's observations the other evening at the Hotel. Mother thinks your Aunt is very stylish and elegant...of course your little sister--Mother has a soft spot for well-mannered little girls," he said with a grin. "Father says if more people paid attention to the hard-working men and women of this country we'd all be better off!"

"Whoa!" Gene's horse came to a stop in the shade of several scrubby trees growing in the fence row. "I'm glad we took this short cut." they watched a car speed down the road a mile away.

"Doesn't that guy ever give up?"

"He hasn't yet," Gene sighed. "At least he's not going our way. And he's gone now." They nudged their horses into a gentle lope across the pasture, out onto the road the car had just motored the other way on, and they turned toward home and evening chores.

"That was certainly a good meal, Mrs. Wade," Walter folded his napkin and slid back from the table.

"Thank you, Walter. It wasn't anything fancy, just home cooked fare," her smile was warm and friendly.

"You boys go on and finish your game, now. Jed and I will clear the table," Agnes tried to shoo Gene into the living room when he picked up his plate and began stacking it with the others.

"Since we don't usually have hired help," Gene explained to the company, we all pitch in and help clear things off. It may seem archaic, but..."

"No, no, I totally understand," Walter stood back. "When we go camping--my father and I like to go out on camping trips--we do our own cooking and clean up as well."

"You just wait for me in the living room. This won't take but a jiffy," Gene said.

"I need to pop up to my room for a minute before our game anyway," Walter excused himself.

Walter studied the chess board, re-planning his moves. Gene had picked up the game fast, and he had spoiled a couple of Walter's moves already.

Chess was not the fastest game Gene had ever played, and it was very tricky. He watched and pondered as Walter moved his rook then in the next move he moved his knight. "Check mate," Walter said quietly.

"Oh, no!" Gene grinned. "You got me again!"

"Yes, but you're catching on fast. That's the funny side of things, you know. Too many people get cocky. It's easy when you're playing someone inexperienced--I've seen good players get whipped because they figured the other person didn't know anything...and the other person got lucky."

"I like it. It's different than checkers, but it teaches me to look ahead."

"Yes, that and don't get cocky!"

"Strange that the most important piece on the board is the queen," Gene picked up his queen as he studied the board. "I think everyone should learn to play chess."

Walter blinked at him, "You may have something there," he agreed. "Angela thinks very highly of you--you know that, don't you," it was a statement more than a question.

"I guess I had hoped so."

"She does, and I appreciate that. She's like a sister to me. The Dorkings have moved quite often and I don't get to see her as much as when we were close friends and neighbors."

"Something is wrong in her life, isn't it?" Gene's gaze was concerned. "It's none of my business, but she's had some difficult times lately."

"Angela's a trooper. I can say that for her. And that's about all I can say. She's very close to Mr. Pickerell's wife isn't she?"

"It's rather odd, but, yes, she and Miss Bessie--I mean Mrs. Pickerell are very close. Angela has taken to helping Bessie since before the baby was born."

"Mr. Pickerell is very interesting," Walter paused rubbing his fingers mindlessly over his bishop. "You folks are much more...down home religious than people are where I come from."

"What makes you say that?"

"We usually attend church services once a week, but it's more of a social thing. You know, we don't want others to think we're--atheists or something. We don't want to take it too seriously though."

"I would like to say that I understand, but..."

"No, your religion means something to you, so of course you wouldn't understand. I wish I could feel that convinced. I wish I could feel so...sure."

"So--sure?"

"There's no doubt that your God exists, that he cares, and participates in your life. For me? I--I just don't feel it. Don't see it."

"I think doubt is good," Gene said. "You want to play another game, or?"

"Doubt? Good?" Walter looked astonished. "--we better get to bed...tomorrow's a busy day..." he sat up and began putting the pieces back in the box.

"It's like this...faith isn't a blind leap."

"That's what I've always thought it was...why isn't it?"

Gene turned the board around for Walter to reach the rest of the pieces.

"I test myself some times...for instance, do I believe God exists, and if so why?

"Okay, so what do you come up with?"

"I have to believe in a Creator--nothing comes from nothing--so that means all of this has to come from something..."

Yes, that's scientific fact. A creation has to have a creator," Walter's face creased in thought as he gently closed the box. "So you believe in God."

"The Bible contains facts that only God could and would know."

"Like what? I know professors who call it a bunch of fables...stories like the Indians, Eskimos, Africans...like their stories..."

Gene stood up and stretched. "David gave me some books, and archeological digs have uncovered artifacts that validate things scripture says. Science as well--look at Psalms where it says 'all things that pass through the paths of the sea...',"

"I guess I'll have to do some reading too." Walter said. "We'll have to get an early start in the morning...good night."

"Good night."

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

"You about done back there, Gene?" Walter called from his perch on the wing.

"Yeah, just about..." Gene answered, he smiled at the picture Walter made in his immaculate shirt and trousers, balanced between the wings making the adjustments on the struts. He turned as the farm collie barked at the sound of David's auto rolling up the drive.

"Gene!" David motioned to him.

"What do you need?" he put down his wrench and walked out toward the automobile.

Albert slid out and walked toward the airplane, "Good dog! Good, boy!" he tried to push the extremely friendly animal away. "Go on Ruff. Stop slobbering on me! ...it's sure turned out fine..." he shouted over the noise of the engine, and ran his fingers over the fuselage and along the tip of the wing. "Say, Walter, could I..." he hesitated, "could I just sit in it while it's running?"

"What's that Albert?" Walter felt like he was doing contortions trying to get everything adjusted just right.

"I just wondered--if maybe I could sit in the cockpit while it's idling. I won't touch nothin'...just to sit..."

"Well, don't touch anything! Just sit,"

"Oh, boy...that's all I want to do...it's like a dream come true..." he was so excited he almost tripped. Albert forced his body to calm down as he clambered into the cock pit.

"Okay, Al. Just sit...quiet...I'm just about done,"

"We'd have been here sooner, but had some problems with some new children..." David explained as he and Gene stood by the car. "Albert's been--what is he doing?"

"Looks like Al is going to sit in the airplane. Don't worry, it's well tethered...and not going anywhere," Gene grinned at David.

"That maybe so, but you know Al..."

"I wondered where you were. Mitch and Ike have been home for about half an hour. They had to run do some errand for their ma. They'll be right...that fool dog--I don't know how he got loose. Mitch had him tied up, but he's back to pestering around..."

"Woof! Woof! Woof! Ruff bounded around the big gray and white mother cat, who had been content to watch the multi-colored kittens rolling and frolicking in the hay in front of the shed.

The mother cat took exception to the big, dumb mutt. Convinced she and her brood were in imminent danger she expanded to a ball of claws and fur twice her normal size. Hissing and spitting at the offending creature, the pair began dancing around each other. Ruff, believing it was a good natured adventure, kept circling around her barking with absolute abandon.

Mama cat and two kittens made a wild dash, flew up the rope that tied the plane to the side of the barn, and, latching on, and hung there tenaciously.

Gene's shoes were filled with lead. He saw the mama cat and two kittens hanging on the rope, the excited mutt yipping and jumping up to nip at the air just under the frightened animals, and he knew what had to occur next...