Spring

“Did you see that Mother?”

“Yes my dear. I saw the sprout. Even the ants are awakening from their long winters nap.”

“I still don’t understand where will Winter go? Is he dead?”

“No my child he will slumber until he is needed again. Now do you feel the change?”

“Yes, I feel more alive. What is happening to me?

“It’s almost time for the strange and fantastical happenings in the garden.”

“I don’t understand Mother Gaia.”

“You will my dear child, this is your first time as Spring.”

“Spring?”

“Yes my child now go forth and spread your magic.”

© Sheilagh Lee   February 27, 2012

Three Word Wednesday-Olive’s Hero

Prompts: Angelic; adjective: Of or relating to angels.

Foster; verb: Encourage or promote the development of (something, typically something regarded as good); bring up; adjective: Denoting someone that has a specified family connection through fostering rather than birth; involving or concerned with fostering a child.

Ruin; noun: the physical destruction or disintegration of something or the state of disintegrating or being destroyed; the remains of a building, typically an old one, that has suffered much damage or disintegration; the disastrous disintegration of someone's life; the complete loss of one's money and other assets; verb: Reduce (a building or place) to a state of decay, collapse, or disintegration; reduce to a state of poverty.

             Olive’s Hero

   Henry had friends growing up, but none as strong as his friend Clarence, who lived three farms over from Henry’s parents the Klein’s. Clarence supported Henry and protected him from bullies at school. They were the best of friends. Henry was grateful to support his friend, when he lost not one but two brothers, to farm accidents and then his beloved mother. Clarence's father had not taken the loss of those two sons well or his wife. He dove into the bottle and was a tyrant to his loved ones.

      When Clarence as the oldest reached eighteen, he expected him to take over the farm but Clarence had stood up to him, and said that he was going to work in the bank industry. There had been a fight and Clarence moved to town. They had made an even peace when Clarence married Mary at twenty -six, but Clarence’s Father, really wasn’t happy with his son’s career choice. Clarence however soon moved up the ranks, and now at thirty one he was the vice president of the bank.

     Henry too had enjoyed his career farming and growing fruit. Running the farm after his parents died had kept him going, but the one thing he missed was companionship and someone to talk to every once in a while. He missed someone to make his meals, and keep his clothes clean after a long day tending the fruit trees. He wasn’t a saint he’d been out with a few women, but none had captured his heart. He envied his friend and Clarence’s growing family to who he was Uncle Henry. Henry begged his friend Clarence to help him find a woman to marry. Even Mary started introducing her friends to him, but none were a woman he felt he could marry and stay married to. It was really too bad he couldn’t find someone like Clarence’s angelic sister Olive. She cooked cleaned and she would make some lucky man and great farmer’s wife; but the great drawback was she was much too young at only sixteen. Henry respected his friendship with Clarence too much to go after his little sister. He had even confessed this to Clarence just the other day. Clarence had laughed and said it was too bad his father had told him just today, that Olive had gotten engaged. Clarence admitted he would have been happier to have Henry as his soon to be brother-in-law. Clarence didn’t know the fellow that Olive was marrying all that well, and when he had met him he had taken a rare dislike to him. He had spoken to his father but his Father told him he was just jealous, because his new brother-in-law would be a partner in the farm. Clarence told Henry he was still worried he just didn’t like the man, and felt that in some way he was taking advantage of Olive. Clarence explained to Henry that he felt that his mother’s death had made his father’s alcoholism worse. Clarence was sure Olive had gotten engaged just too get away from their father. He only hoped it wouldn’t be the ruin of her glowing spirit, His Father refused to speak to him now, and he couldn’t even see his sister as he wasn’t allowed on the farm. He wished he could help but Clarence’s father wouldn’t even speak to Henry either.

       Now it was six months later and still Clarence and his Father weren’t speaking. Henry felt bad for Clarence. He knew what it was like to be torn from family, but at least he had his foster family. Clarence was lucky to have his wife Mary and his three children, Henry was sure that helped.

Henry had made plans to go into town and meet Clarence and Mary, who had yet another candidate to be his wife. He’d dressed carefully as Clarence had said this one was refined and a school teacher. As he drove his wagon towards town; he said a silent prayer to God, that he would soon find a woman who could make him whole and give him the family he so desired. Time was getting short after all he was now thirty-one.

     He drove a short distance from his farm, he saw in the distance what looked like a bag of rags by the side of the road. When he got closer, he realized it was a not a bag of clothes, but a person. He got down from the wagon to see if there was anything he could do to help them, and to his surprise he found it was a woman. And not just any woman it was Olive, Clarence’s sister who lay there battered and broken by the side of the road. He lifted her up carefully as to not jar her, and take her to the hospital in town when he noticed that she was pregnant. Who could have done such a thing?

“Hewy?”Olive said through cut lips and a broken jaw.

“Who did this to you Olive?” Henry asked enraged.

“He was so mad like I did it. Why?” Olive replied the words hard to understand

“Who Olive?” Henry asked again.

“Daddy. Was so mad. I didn’t know he would do this. Why did Amos steal and leave me?”

“Are you saying your father beat you Olive?”

“Yes.” Olive answered then started crying.

      Henry tried to comfort Olive and get her to the hospital. Arriving there he was met by a police officer who kept him, until they got the story from Olive. Olive it seemed had been beaten and battered by her father. Poor innocent Olive had fallen for the oldest story in the book. A traveling salesman had wooed her, gotten her dowry in farmland from her family, sold it and left with the proceeds. The monster had left her to face the consequences and had made her pregnant. Olive’s father had blamed her and beaten her within an inch of her life. Olive would recover and her baby seemed to be okay, but social services because of her age and her unmarried status, wanted to take her into custody. She would be placed in an unwed mother’s home when she left hospital. 

    Henry told Clarence what had happened and Clarence not only rescued his sister taking her into his home, but saw that his father was charged. Unfortunately a judge who thought Olive’s father was within his rights to discipline Olive for getting pregnant, let him off with a fine. Olive’s father disowned her and Clarence, their siblings refused to speak to either Olive or Clarence. They sided with their Father, saying Olive had brought in this man who took valuable property from their Father and sold it. They claimed they also had brought shame and ruin on the family, with the pregnancy and the subsequent court case for the assault.

    Olive was suffering and Clarence though he didn’t say anything, was angry at the siblings who sided with his father. Henry’s heart went out to Olive and Clarence. Henry found himself visiting Clarence’s home more often over the next few months. Olive was a sweet girl and tender hearted. Henry looked at Olive and saw a Madonna. She was petite barely five feet tall weighing all of 110 pounds even heavily pregnant. Her stomach though pushed out with the pregnancy, looked like a small ball. She’d cut off her long light brown hair, and wore it in the new fringe style of the twenties. It suited her delicate features making her lovely blue eyes sparkle. Olive loved to cook like his foster mother Frieda and she made amazing food. When Henry would drop by the house she worried about his well-being, and that he had enough to eat. She was exactly what he needed in a wife he decided, but she was embarrassed to be bearing another man’s child and even though he got the courage to ask her to marry him she continued to refuse his proposals. Clarence was very encouraging, he wanted Henry for his brother-in law, but Olive wouldn't seem to budge. 

       Henry continued to woo her despite her refusals. Henry was even there in the waiting room when her son was born. The nurse was sure he was the father and invited him in to see the boy. As Henry held the boy, he felt his heart was totally lost. This boy might not be of his blood, but he was his son in the same way he had become the Klein’s son. He knew he could be not just a foster father, but a real father to this boy. Olive looked over at man and baby boy and smiled. When Henry asked again she agreed to marry, and they put Henry’s last name on the boy’s birth certificate. A year later they had a daughter and three years later, a boy they would call Henry Jr. Henry Jr. who would go on to have six children of his own. One of them me.

© Sheilagh Lee   February 15, 2012

Unrequited Love

 For Valentine's Day I thought I would give you a personal story of unrequited love.

When I was nine I had my first marriage proposal and even a mock wedding but I‘m getting ahead of myself. As I said I was nine years old and attended a rural school so was transported each day by bus to the school. I had a small group of girls I hung out on the schoolyard during recesses.( morning lunch and afternoon ones). It was June and one of the girl’s Mary-Beth said “He likes you .”

“Who likes me?” I asked surprised.

“Someone likes Sheilagh?” asked Cindy.

“Yes John.” Grace answered then chanted “Sheilagh and John sitting in a tree, first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Sheilagh with a baby carriage.”

“Yuck.” I answered. ”I’m not having babies for years and years and years.”

“So you do like John?” Mary-Beth asked.

“He’s okay.” I answered not committing myself looking over at the blonde headed boy.He was kind of cute and had nice blue eyes when he smiled.

“She likes him.” Grace said

I ignored them and walked away .If John wanted to like me that was okay but I didn’t want them to talk about it. The bell rang and we went in for class. Frankly I forgot about it as the teacher taught two of my favourite subjects History, then Music. Lunch came and I ate it quickly. it was an early spring day, the sun was out, and I wanted to skip rope and just enjoy the outdoors. I spotted my friends talking to some boys one of them John, and he smiled at me. What were they saying? Had they told him I liked him? I wondered my stomach hurting. I ignored them and walked back in to go to the washroom to wash my reddened face and get some composure back. As I put the cool water on my face my arms were grabbed I looked up water in my eyes to find several girls around me.

“You are getting married.” Grace said.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m only nine years old. Let me go.” I pleaded as I struggled. With three girls holding me and two others holding guard I wasn’t getting away. I was at the time smaller than all the girls at only about 4feet 8 inches, and they had a firm hold on my arms.

“John wants to marry you. This is your surprise wedding.” Grace answered. “My Dad’s a minister, so I know all the words and I’m going to marry you.”

“I don’t want to marry anyone and I don’t love him.” I continued to protest as they stuck toilet paper in my hair with bobby pins for a veil and started to wind toilet tissue around me for my gown.

“Well John does and we want a wedding.” Mary-Beth replied.

I glared at all of them and thought none of them were truly my friends or they wouldn’t be doing this to me. When they finished dressing me for the wedding they pulled me out to the playground and to a corner of the yard. Grace picked some dandelions and stuck them in my hands saying “There now you have some flowers. The girls let my arms go but stood close enough to grab me again.

John walked over smiling and said “I really want to marry you.”

I was flabbergasted this boy who had barely said two words to me wanted to marry me? I grew frightened what if because Grace’s father was a minister the ceremony was legal I didn’t want to marry anyone especially at nine years old.

“Do you John take Sheilagh.” I heard and then his agreement then it was my turn

“Do you Sheilagh take John.”

I felt my heart pounding in my chest as fear seeped into every pore of my skin.

“No,” I said but it came out as a yell and then like my feet had wings, I ran away.

John never spoke to me again after that and I felt bad about that. I think I might have broken John’s heart. As for the girls I forgave them and they realized that they couldn’t push me into something I didn’t want to do and respected me for it. And that dear readers is my story for you today Valentine’s Day.
© Sheilagh Lee   February 14, 2012

Happy Valentine's Day

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Three Word Wednesday- Home Children-Part 4

if you missed any part of this story
Part one here http://sheilaghlee.blogspot.com/2012/01/three-word-wednesday-home-children.html
Part two here http://sheilaghlee.blogspot.com/2012/01/three-word-wednesday-home-children-part.html
Part three here  http://sheilaghlee.blogspot.com/2012/02/three-word-wednesday-home-children-part.html
Three Word Wednesday Prompts:

Control; noun: The power to influence or direct people's behavior or the course of events; he ability to manage a machine, vehicle, or other moving object; the restriction of an activity, tendency, or phenomenon; the power to restrain something, esp. one's own emotions or actions; verb: Maintain influence or authority over; limit the level, intensity, or numbers of.

Flesh; noun: The soft substance consisting of muscle and fat that is found between the skin and bones of an animal or a human; the pulpy substance of a fruit or vegetable, especially the part that is eaten.

Razor; noun: An instrument with a sharp blade or combination of blades, used to remove unwanted hair from the face or body; verb: To cut with a razor.   

     Henry grimaced as he tried to use his broken arm to milk the cow. He just could not control it or even use it. The arm would not work. The flesh was broken he noticed and a bone stuck out. He tried to tie it up but he only managed to get it tangled in his shirt and it hurt more with razor like pain.

Old Bessie was not happy with him pulling with just one hand and she mooed and tried to kick over the bucket.

“Boy it’s time to plough the field. We have to make way for the winter wheat.” Mr. Smith yelled.

Henry hurriedly took the milk to Mrs. Smith and joined the farmer as he walked to the field.

“We must get this done today boy so I expect you to pull your way and not be so God damn useless.”

Henry hurried to place the plow harness on the plow horse, but with his arm not working the harness slipped and the horse shied running away.

“God damn fool boy can’t you do anything right?”Mr. Smith asked taking his fists and boots to Henry yet again.

“I’m sorry sir.” Henry tried to mollify him but he still kicked at him.

“God forsaken little slum bastard.I should have known you’d be useless.”

“I am not a bastard my father was a war hero of the Boer war.” Henry responded angrily.

“Nonsense there was no Boer war only a skirmish.”

“My father was a hero. He died of wounds he received for King and Country.” Henry said proudly.

“Nonsense, fighting a bunch of namby pamby natives. That’s not fighting for your country, and you say your father died from that skirmish? You are a liar to boot.”

Henry grew angry and yelled “I’m not a lair my father was a hero.”

This only made Mr. Smith angrier and he began to kick harder at Henry.

Henry said a silent prayer for God to deliver him from the evil that was Mr. Smith; to Henry’s surprise seconds later he heard first a wagon, then a horse whinny and then the voice of an angel.

“Mr. Smith just what do you think you are doing?”

“Teaching the boy some manners and to respect his elders.”

“I think that will be quite enough.” Miss Lamb said “Henry get up and get in the wagon.”

Henry ran to comply, grateful that Miss Lamb had seemed to come back to check on him.

“Where do you think you are going with that boy? You gave him to me now he’s mine. You’ll not take him.” Mr. Smith said menacingly advancing on Miss Lamb and grabbing her arm.

Henry was scared not only for himself but Miss Lamb. Mr. Smith was enraged and Henry feared that he would do away with both Henry and Miss Lamb. Henry looked into the back of the wagon and saw a rifle in the wagon and bullets beside it. Without really thinking he picked up the rifle and loaded it the way he’d seen his father load his rifle at home in England. Then he cocked it and aimed it at Mr. Smith.

“Let Miss Lamb go or I’ll shoot you.” Henry threatened.

“Go ahead boy if it’s like anything else you do, you couldn’t hit the edge of a barn board.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, I told you my Father was a war hero. He taught me to shoot and just to show you I mean business I’m going to shoot the tip of your right boot.” Henry said and the fired the gun hitting Mr. Smith’s right boot.

Mr. Smith jumped a foot but didn’t let go of Miss Lamb right way.

“You let go of Miss Lamb now.” Henry commanded coldly aiming the rifle again as if to shoot Mr. Smith between the eyes.

“Miss Lamb you get into the wagon we’re leaving.” Henry requested.

“Yes, Henry dear.” Miss Lamb said obeying.

“You’ll be sorry the both of you.” threatened Mr. Smith"And you boy you shot at me your going to jail."

“I wouldn’t threaten either of us Mr. Smith. We trusted you with this child and you’ve abused him. You are in the wrong.” Miss Lamb said as she took the reins of the horses.

“Be gone then and don’t you come back then. Boy’s probably the son of murder or a thief anyways. Don’t think I don’t know that you tried to pass the dregs of society off on us.”

Henry breathed a sigh of relief and unloaded the gun as they got further away from the Smith’s farm.

“Are you okay Henry? I had no idea that man was like that. I would never have left you there if I’d known.”

“But you came back for me.” Henry said his eyes shining with gratitude.

“Would that I had come sooner. I came back to bring you news of Beatrice.”

“Is Beatrice okay?” Henry asked worried about his sister.

“She’s okay now. She was put in a situation that never should have happened, just like you.” Miss Lamb answered upset.

“She’s was beaten?” Henry asked.

“No but she had to flee from her situation to save her virtue.” Miss Lamb answered

“She’s okay now though?” Henry demanded worried.

“Yes I found her a safer position as a housemaid with a very reputable family.”

“You thought the last one was this reputable?”

“I know this family personally. Have you heard of the Eaton’s who own a huge department store in Toronto?”

“Are they the same Eaton’s who have the catalogue?” Henry asked.

“Yes and Beatrice is now working for the founder one Timothy Eaton and his wife Margaret.”

“And they are kind to her?” Henry inquired.

“Yes she is getting good training as well. I promise you Henry she’s safe. She was worried about you though so I promised her I’d check on you. She said she had a bad feeling about you and it turns out she was correct.”

“And James is he okay?”

“I don’t know Henry I haven’t been able to find out but if and when I do I’ll let you and Beatrice know. Now let’s get you to a doctor you don’t look so good.”

   Henry repaired slowly over the next month. The doctor had set his arm in an operation and removed his spleen. Henry was scared about that but the doctor had explained you could live without one and he had relaxed. Noises scared him and grown men though and he knew the day was coming that Miss Lamb would place him with a new family.

“Henry, how are you?” asked Miss Lamb coming into the infirmary at the home.

“I’m getting better .My arm almost bends. See.”

“The doctor says you are doing better. Henry I’d like to place you with a nice family but only if you agree. You said you liked farming is that correct?”

“Yes.” Henry said in a small voice becoming scared again.

“I promise you Henry. I’ve checked these people out thoroughly. The Klein’s, Frieda and Heinrich are a sweet couple. They lost their only child a son two years ago at age nine. They would like to foster a child and teach them their farm business which is fruit trees.”

“Is he, Mr. Klein big like Mr. Smith?”

“No actually Mr. Klein is about five feet five inches and very soft spoken. He’s a pacifist as well.”

“Okay then I’ll try it but if I don’t like it you’ll come get me?” Henry pleaded.

“I promise I will Henry. I’ll come check every day for the first little while.”

     Henry went to the Klein’s and they were a warm welcoming couple. Mrs. Klein welcomed him with open arms. She’d baked cookies for him and strudel. Mr. Klein was soft spoken and had infinite patience when showing him how to trim the fruit trees for winter. Six months went by Henry felt safe and loved. He had school and farm work. And he had a friend Clarence who lived at a farm down the road. Life was good though he did miss his brother and sister. He was incredibly happy but still in the back of his mind he worried that he would lose everything at a moment’s notice. Miss Lamb had been welcomed many times by the Klein’s and she seemed to really like them. The Klein’s had come to him and asked him if he would let them adopt him as their son. Henry wanted to say yes but he didn’t want to lose his last connection to his mother Beatrice and James. He also was afraid to lose the Klein’s good will. If he said no would they hate him and give him back to Miss. Lamb? He was hiding in his room under the blankets, hoping they wouldn’t come and ask him again when Mrs. Klein knocked and said...

“Henry dear Mr. Klein and I are coming in your room.” Frieda said understanding “We want to explain to you our reasoning. We want your for our son very much, but we don’t want to take your family from you just include you in ours.”

“Our lawyer says you can keep your last name, but legally you’d be our son and no one could ever take you away.” Heinrich interjected.

Henry gulped and pulled his head from under the blankets. He looked at first one of them and then the other as they nodded at him.

“If you’ll still have me I’d like to be your son and keep my last name.” Henry agreed as the Klein’s hugged him.

     From that day on he was their son. The Klein’s were well into their fifties closer to sixty years old when Henry came to live with them. Henry grew to love them and he loved them even more as they encouraged him to write his mother and Beatrice of his life with them. They bestowed on him everything they would if he had been their own flesh and blood and he was grateful for all the blessings. He grew to love Mrs. Klein so much that he called her Ma, as mother was reserved for his mother in England. Mr. Klein he called Papa. Everyone in the community was welcoming and treated him like he truly was a Klein. Henry was happier than he had ever been. When Henry was twenty six and working in the orchards with Papa Klein, Papa Klein died of a sudden heart attack. Ma Klein took it very hard they had been married since she was sixteen years old and she was now 73 years old and a widow. Henry tried hard to console her and look after her as she had done for him but six months later she joined Heinrich. Henry learned then that the Klein’s had left their prosperous farm and all their wealth to him. Henry was grateful but he missed the Klein’s and only his friend Clarence’s wedding took him out into the world away from the farm. Henry at twenty six hid from the world on the farm but he was happy or so he thought.

Next week story when Henry met my grandmother a Valentine story

 © Sheilagh Lee February 8, 2012

Groundhog Day -A Short Story

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and enjoy my  Groundhog Day story below.

     It was Groundhog Day. And all Georgia could think about was that Bill Murray movie; you know the one where ' Phil Connors' repeats his day over and over until he gets right? Georgia could think of a few people she wished this would happen to. It seemed that all she worked with was self-absorbed jerks. She had been fighting her way up the reporter chain for a few of years now. Was it too much to want an anchor spot? Now she too had to cover a groundhog spot again, during the winter that barely was. I mean one day it snowed, the next day it rained; what kind of winter was that? And how hokey was it that people actually believed that groundhogs predicted the weather anyway? Now she was getting as cynical as Phil Connors. But if only people realized how these animals were not cuddly. The handler last year had told her about scars from the animal’s nasty bites despite his gloves.

     So her she was about to take part in this year’s Royal Robert’s predictions. She would interview the Mayor Andrea Tremblay who would announce the rodent’s prediction yet again. Then she’d interview some people for local colour and head home to edit and get it ready for the six o’clock news. Such was her job .Just once she would like to do the anchor job where someone else provided all the stories. Georgia stepped up and started interviewing people.

     The sun was streaming down and caught the rain puddles with shimmering light. Georgia managed to juxtapose this with the snarling groundhog, as he was coaxed out his cage with an ear of corn. Stepping forward Georgia saw Royal Robert nip at his trainer. She continued filmed as Mayor Tremblay announced that Royal Robert had seen his shadow. Did any of this really matter? Tomorrow it would snow and in three days they were predicting rain followed by snow the next day. That wasn’t winter this was global warming. She stepped forward to get in the shot and felt herself tripping. Sprawling head first in mud then knocked out cold.

    Georgia awoke in her hotel room. Now she was having nightmares related to her filming today. She looked out and was surprised to see it raining maybe Royal Robert wouldn’t see his shadow today. She advanced to the park traipsing through the mud and rain and saw Mayor Tremblay wearing the same outfit as her dream. She asked some people some questions which she managed to get them on camera. Then on cue the sun came out, Royal Robert came out of his cage biting the trainer, and the mayor announced six more weeks of winter. What was going on had she entered into the same realm “Phil Connors had in Groundhog Day”? No that was impossible. It was just a coincidence wasn’t it? Or was someone playing a joke on her? But how would they know about her dream? Georgia took a huge breath after dismissing the idea and stepped forward to get in the shot and felt herself tripping. Sprawling head first in mud then knocked out cold.

     Georgia awoke in her hotel room again. This was ridiculous. What a stupid dream that had been. Then it repeated itself like she was really awake, that’s what she got for watching 'Groundhog Day' on the television before she went to bed. She felt her head no bumps. It was a dream she reassured herself. She got up and traipsed through the rain and puddles to the park where Royal Robert would come out of his cage. Georgia asked some people in the gathering some questions getting them on camera and started to feel a sense of deja. She noted with deepening fear that the sun suddenly was streaming down and caught the rain puddles with shimmering light. Georgia saw the snarling groundhog, the bite that took a piece of skin from the trainers arm and then the mayor stepping forward to announce that Royal Robert had seen his shadow. What the heck this couldn’t be happening could it? Was she dreaming? If she was dreaming she wanted to wake up now. This wasn’t fun not like the movie this was just repetitive. Why did she think it would be fun to live that life for years? Was she crazy? She took a step forward camera still in hand and tripped falling into the mud and hit her head on a rock submerged there knocking herself out cold.

       She woke and was afraid to open her eyes. She didn’t want to wake up to Groundhog Day again. Wait a minute what was that music. She opened her eyes and saw a television suspended over her bed playing Groundhog Day with Bill Murray.

“Oh good you’re finally awake. I thought I’d have to watch the movie without you.” said Georgia’s boyfriend Alex. “How’s the head? I got your video to the station in time. My buddy Paul took it after I rushed her Paula said she edited it for you. It’s almost six want to see your report sleeping beauty?”

Georgia sat up and watched her report, something she never did once it was edited.

“Gee Georgia that was a pretty interesting report.” Alex said as they finished watching.

Georgia found she had enjoyed the flow of the piece and thought 

"Hmm Alex liked it who needs to be an anchor? I like being a reporter. Maybe she had learned something during her Groundhog Day." she thought as she laid back in her hospital bed smiling.

" the character of Phil Connors and Groundhog Day  the movie belongs to Harold Ramis and Danny Rubin"



© Sheilagh Lee February 2, 2012

Three Word Wednesday - Home Children-Part 3

Prompts;

Detach; verb: Disengage (something or part of something) and remove it; leave or separate oneself from (a group or place); avoid or put an end to any connection or association.

Jolt; verb: Push or shake (someone or something) abruptly and roughly; give a surprise or shock to (someone) in order to make them act or change; noun: An abrupt rough or violent movement; a surprise or shock, especially of an unpleasant kind and often manifested physically.

Surge; noun: A sudden powerful forward or upward movement, esp. by a crowd or by a natural force such as the waves or tide; a sudden large increase, typically a brief one that happens during an otherwise stable or quiescent period; verb: (Of a crowd or a natural force) move suddenly and powerfully forward or upward; increase suddenly and powerfully, typically during an otherwise stable or quiescent period.

Home Children-Part 3

    Henry stepped down from the wagon, his little legs feeling detached and barely holding him up in his fright. He remembered his mother telling him to be brave and he straightened his shoulders standing up tall. The house before him was one of the biggest he’d ever seen. Were these people wealthy? Henry wondered.

The house reminded him of the story his mother had once told him of a gingerbread house that held a witch. He peered closely at Mrs. Smith to see if she fit that category, but she only appeared older than his mother. She was probably fifty he judged by her gray hair and wrinkles. She was petite barely five feet tall. Mr. Smith was a burly man standing six feet tall and weighing nearly three hundred pounds but oddly enough not appearing fat, just big and slightly scary; to the small boy who because of lack of food had not come into his height yet.

“Well then come in then.” The woman “This is our house.”

“The boy will sleep there” Mrs. Smith pointing to a small room off the kitchen .

“We will expect the boy to help out on the farm but he’ll have a good life here.” Mr. Smith said gruffly.

Henry watched as Miss Lamb nodded and then made haste to leave.

“Goodbye Henry I’ll come check on you in a few months.” Miss Lamb whispered in his ear. Then she got into the wagon and left down the country road.

“Come on then boy put your stuff down there. There’s work to be done. I’ve already wasted the day waiting for you.” Mr. Smith said curtly

Henry hurriedly obeyed and followed Mr. Smith as he walked into a field.

“Well boy what are you waiting for get to work.”

Henry looked at the man in surprise .What did he want Henry to do? Henry was willingly to learn but he knew nothing about farming.

“Good God boy, you are worse than useless, I need a farm hand not a useless waste of my time and money.”

“Show me what to do so and I’ll do it.” Henry begged.

“Take the horse and fallow the field.”

“Farrow?”

“No fallows, God damn it.” Mr. Smith said striking him across the face.

“I don’t understand sir.” Henry protested.

“Forget it I’ll plow the field. The apples need picking anyway go into the orchard and start picking them and put them into the barrels. You can do that can’t you boy?”

“Yes sir.” Henry answered scared and wiping the blood away from his mouth. He felt the bruise coming up and grimaced but hurried to the orchard lest Mr. Smith decide to hit him again.

“Well what are you waiting for?”

“Where is the orchard?”

“Over that field about one thousand yards.”

Henry surged forward as fast as his legs could carry him. Even though he was hungry and thirsty, he picked apples until the sun set in the sky and then he went back to the farm house. Henry hands hurt, his legs hurt from climbing the trees but he was proud he had worked hard. Surely this would make Mr. Smith happy?

“Well boy how many barrels have you filled?” asked Mr. Smith.

Five sir.” answered Henry.

“You little bastard.do you think that’s hard work? I could have filled ten barrels by now. Those apples have to go to market by the end of the week. Do I have to do everything myself.” Mr. Smith asked as he kicked Henry his boots kicking everywhere at once or so it seemed to Henry.

“Let this be a lesson to you boy. Ava give the boy a piece of bread and a glass of water. That’s all the food you’ve earned today boy go find yourself a bed in the barn.”

“Fred don’t you think you’re being hard on the boy?” asked Mrs. Smith.

“Hard on the boy? He’s here to help me. I only agreed to have some homeless slum bastard come to my home to help me not to hinder my work. I checked those apples. He put in apples that had worms.do you know what that could do to my sales? The boy goes back tomorrow.”

“But Fred the boy lived in the city he knows nothing of farming you have to teach him.” protested Ava.

“Fine I’ll give him another opportunity but he better not fail me tomorrow.”

Henry wished they had sent him back as the weeks went on and everyday was a new beating. His ribs were sore and bruises were all over his body but each day he got up at sunup and worked until sundown.

A month later Henry was surprised to see Mrs. Smith cooking up a storm.

“Tomorrow the farmers come to help. Mr. Smith thresh the wheat Henry. You be a good boy and listen to Mr. Smith and don’t embarrass him.” Mrs. Smith said as she snuck into the barn and gave him a molasses cookie.

Henry nibbled on the cookie. It tasted wonderful after a month of gruel and breads, all that Mr. Smith would let Mrs. Smith feed him.

The next day went badly the horse got away from him. He forgot how to put the tethers on the horse and Mr. Smith yelled at him. Worst of all Mr. Smith’s farmer friends asked what he was doing with such a scrawny useless child? Henry snuck into the barn to hide as soon as the sun was down and the men were leaving

“Where are you boy? You best come out now.” Mr. Smith ordered.

Henry continued to hide. He knew that tone of voice did not bode well for him. He was frightened and wished he could go home to his mother, brother and sister. Canada was not the land of milk and honey his mother had been promised, for Henry it was hell on earth. He had repeated beatings, little food and no warm place to sleep. It was colder and the barn was cold at night he wished he had a bed to sleep in that was warm like his one in England next to his brother James.

“There you are you little monster. Think you can embarrass me in front of my friends?” Mr. Smith said picking him up by his collar and first shaking then beating him.

Henry only remembered the pain after that point as the punches and kicks had begun. When he woke up still in the straw the next morning, he got a jolt when he realized his arm hung at a strange angle and he couldn’t move it. Henry couldn‘t take the abuse anymore, he would get through today by tonight he would have figured out a way to kill himself. That plan in mind Henry went to start the day.

To be concluded next week

© Sheilagh Lee  February 1,2012