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
