By Way of the Rose (3 page)

John meekly looked at his father. “No, sir, I don't.”

“Then a change of attitude had better be displayed fairly quickly.”

“Yes, sir, I'm sorry.”

“That's better. But I'm going to give you a lesson about the real world and how to be a man. I've let you slide too long. You are going to learn how to hunt and how to use a gun.”

“Daniel, he's not ready! You can't force him!”

“Marion, he's soft. You've coddled him far too long.”

“He's just a boy.” Marion blurted out. “But a boy has to grow up.” She quickly corrected herself.

“Now all you young'uns get off to bed.” Daniel ordered. “D.J. and I have to take care of the animal. Lord knows John isn't going to be of any help to us!”

John, upon hearing these cutting words from Daniel, bolted off to bed. He lay there listening to Nathan eagerly volunteering to lend a hand.

“Do I have to go to bed, Poppa? I'll help you!” Nathan begged.

“No, you're not big enough. It's your bedtime. Run along now.”

“But, Poppa... ”

“Son, I said get to bed! I don't want to have to say it again! What's wrong with you boys tonight? Can't you hear?”

“Yes, sir.” Nathan dropped his head in disappointment and slouched off to the boys’ room where John lay sniffling. “Why are you crying? You're stupid. If I was big like you I could hunt. It's not fair! I want to hunt and they won't let me!”

“Shut up! You're too little to even know what's going on.”

“I know what's goin’ on. You're a tit baby like D.J. says!”

“Just because I don't want to murder living things?”

“Because you want us to go hungry so you won't have to hunt and you don't want us to hunt either! You're stupid!” Nathan jabbed his elbow into John's ribs. “Move over and sniffle on your side of the bed, tit baby!”

“Don't you touch me again!” John pushed at Nathan as he flounced over in bed. While he lay there he felt Nathan's finger on his shoulder,

“Touch, touch,” Nathan whispered.

John shrugged it off and went to sleep.

John was silent as he held the fence post straight while his Poppa packed the dirt around it. “I'm sorry, Poppa about last night.” John finally spoke.

“Son, I realize you're different, but you don't live in that world that's in your head. You're in this world and it's hard, I worry about you. I know you and your momma feel I'm too harsh and that I should respect the softness in you.” Daniel looked directly into John's eyes. “Your momma yearns to protect you from the harshness of life, she doesn't understand being a man, how important it is for you to learn the things I'm trying to teach you.” He shook his head. “She's going to have to let you face reality no matter how painful it may be for her. She must allow the soft gentle hands of you, her only scholar, to become rough and able to survive in this hard world.”

“I just don't think I'm ever going to be what you want me to be.” John looked away.

“Son, there's something going on in this wilderness that's causing strange and unusual animal behavior,” Daniel said. “That bear never should have been out this time of year roaming around. Especially not on our porch. We must get busy and put up extra provisions for this winter. Stack more wood. Gather more food. I'm concerned that the deer are getting scarce. I'm going to need your help, not your hindrance.”

“Yes, Sir.” John felt no better after their conversation. He could never win his Poppa's approval by being himself. He dropped his head.

Soon the meat was hanging in the little smokehouse which was not even as big as the outhouse. The many pegs nailed into the walls and on the crossbeams held the fresh meat. A hole in its floor contained a small fire that was smothered with wet hickory chips. This smoldering sweetness cured and flavored the meat. Over the coming days, while the meat smoked, a close watch was kept on the tiny smokehouse. Daniel gave John the task of adding the chips as needed. This was a chore he actually enjoyed. He liked filling his nostrils full of the sweet aroma that wafted through the air.

“Well, for a boy who don't like to shoot the animals you sure do like to sniff at ‘em smoking,” Daniel teased.

“Well, Poppa. It's different when I can't see their heads and sad little eyes,” John picked back at Daniel.

“I suppose you shouldn't be looking at their sad little eyes. If you enjoy the meat, you are gonna have to do your part to put it on the table.” He looked at John coyly. “Now finish up.”

“Yes, Sir.”

After he'd added the chips, John went inside and sat down at the table with his book to delve into that other world which only existed within its worn pages. Nothing from the real world could invade now, no chores, no guns, no hunting. His finger began to twist and turn his thick dark curls. He noticed nothing or no one. Not even Marion's huffing groaning as she knelt scrubbing the floor, “Bring me the soap, Aggie,” she snapped in exasperation. “I don't know what's on this floor, but it's not coming up.”

“Let me do it, Momma.” Agnes pleaded. “You look tired.”

“No, this floor needs some strong elbow grease. I want it done right.” She continued her task. Suddenly, She fell from her knees onto the wet floor, dumping the bucket over as she went. Water sloshed everywhere.

“Momma!” Agnes screamed as she ran to Marion. “John, go get Poppa!”

John had already jumped up. He ran to get Daniel who was out in the barn salting and re-scraping the bear hide. “Poppa, something's wrong with Momma! Hurry!” he yelled. Daniel dropped everything and ran to the house. He took Marion in his arms. “Marion... oh Marion! What's wrong?”

“The baby!” She cried. “Get me to the bed.” Daniel lifted her from the floor and carried her into the room where he laid her down.

Agnes brought water and a rag. Daniel soothed Marion's brow with trembling hands. “What can I do?” he cried.

“Just stay with me... there's nothing to be done now.”

“Just rest, you've been working too hard. I shouldn't have let you overdo. You get some rest, you'll be fine in a little while.”

“Daniel, the baby is coming,” she groaned in despair. She grabbed his hand as she screamed out in pain.

“No, it's too soon!” Daniel frantically denied that possibility. “You're not due for another two months.”

“Whether it's time or not, it's coming. Oh, I'm so scared.” She cried out.

“You rest, it'll be fine, don't worry,” he continued to assure her.

Late that evening everyone stood looking at the tiny infant. He was so small yet so perfect. “It's such a beautiful baby.” Agnes gently stroked his small head.

“I wish it weren't dead,” Nathan whimpered. “I could have had a little brother.”

John wiped the tears from his eyes.

The loss of the little baby boy they named Matthew devastated Marion. All she seemed able to do was lie in bed and cry. Some days she'd attempt to get up and run the house, but after a while she'd return to her bed in tears. Daniel didn't know how to cope without her. It was as if he'd not only lost his child but his wife as well. Daniel couldn't take it any longer, so one morning he went to her and said, “Marion, you've got to get over this. Everything is falling apart around us! The children need you and I need you!”

“Leave me be and let me grieve. My belly and my arms are empty. I feel so heartbroken. Just let me get over it. This kind of hurt will take time. I'll be all right, I just can't go on like nothing happened. We lost our baby.”

“I understand that. We're all heartbroken, but we can't stop living because of that. We have to go on.” His eyes began to tear. “Marion, your arms won't be empty if you'll just take
us
in them again!”

Marion pulled herself up in bed and looked into her husband's desperate face. “Oh, Daniel, what have I done? I've only thought of my own pain. I've shut myself away from you all and ignored your needs.” She glanced over at the door to where the children's sad faces were peeping in. “I have to get on with life. For the sake of the family I have to put this behind me.” The pain was evident in her eyes as she stood. “I'm sorry I've been so thoughtless, we all lost little Matthew, forgive me for making it worse on us.” She held out her arms and the children ran to her. “I am truly blessed to have you all.” She smiled warmly as she held them close.

“If you feel like eating now, I fixed a stew and some biscuits,” Agnes offered hopefully.

“That would be wonderful.” Marion stroked her child's cheek.

“It's bear stew, we didn't have any rabbit meat.” Agnes made excuses for the meal as Marion walked into the kitchen and sat down.

“That's fine, I'm sure whatever you fix will be delicious, sweetheart.”

“I fixed the last of the deer yesterday.”

“Well, this old bear smells pretty good.” Marion sounded cheerful. “Daniel, why don't you go hunting now. I'll be fine. We need more meat.”

“Are you sure you'll be all right, Marion?” Daniel looked at her in concern.

“Yes, I'm sure. Everything is all right now. It's time we all got back to normal.”

“All right, then. While you're eating, I'm going to teach this boy of ours how to hunt. He's old enough to start learning. Come on, John.” He took D.J.'s rifle and shoved it toward him.

“You're going to let him use my gun?” D.J. looked worried. He tended to his rifle as if it were his baby. “He'll probably fumble around and break it.”

“John's got to learn and this is the only other gun here for him to use. We'll bring it back to you in one piece.” Daniel nodded his head at D.J.

John stiffened up. “But, Poppa, I don't want to shoot anything!” His already large eyes widened as he looked at Daniel in horror. “Why can't I just go with you and watch. I don't need to be using D.J.'s gun if he don't want me to. That's his most favorite thing in the world!”

“Son, you're nine years old now, it's time you learned how to make a living in this world. You have to grow up and become a man. You need to know more than just reading books and pretending to be someone you're not.” Daniel handed John the rifle. “Now, get your coat and let's be on our way. You might even like it.”

Marion walked over to John and placed her hand gently on his head. “I know it doesn't seem like it now, but what your poppa is doing is for your own good. It's time you learned how to forge a living, no matter how bad you may hate to.”

“Yes, Momma.” John put his coat on, took the rifle and left with Daniel.

As the two of them walked along Daniel looked at the nine year old, tall for his age, yet struggling to carry the large rifle. “Just pretend you're Daniel Boone again. But this time for real.” John didn't say anything. “You know, Daniel Boone was a good hunter, just like your old poppa here.” He smiled down at John, who continued to sulk as they walked along. “Stop that infernal pouting,” Daniel scolded. “It's time for you to shoulder some responsibility. You can't spend the rest of your life in a dream world. Reading books won't get dinner on the table.” Daniel noticed the boy holding the gun tightly with both hands as he continued the lecture. “We could be using this opportunity to talk and have a good time, but you're wasting it by being foolish and pouting.”

“I guess it is foolish, Poppa.” John swiped at a lock of hair that the wind had whipped into his eye. Daniel noticed him quickly returned his grasp to the long, heavy rifle as it had begun to drop from his hand. “I will never be able to go to school anyway. This
is
something I need to learn.”

Daniel knew John was putting on an unnatural pretense now. A feeling of guilt crept into his heart. “I know you must wish you could let that thing drop to the ground and run far away from this.”

“Does this gun have bullets in it?” John ignored Daniel's sudden wave of compassion.

“Yes, it's loaded, so don't aim it at anything unless you intend on killing it.”

“Yes, Sir.”

As they came upon the old wagon road, they saw a multitude of Indians, wagons and mounted soldiers pouring through the valley. There were so many of them, so many wagons, as far as the eye could see they came trudging from the east. Some of the Indians walked barefoot over the cold ground, some had leather shoes and boots, but they all walked in a mournful and defeated slump. Very few had blankets drawn tightly around them. Many more had nothing but a thin layer of clothing between them and the elements. They were being herded like cattle by the warmly dressed uniformed soldiers who sat, like royalty, upon their saddles.

The dull hum of the wagons and the clomping of horse hooves along with the moaning Indians and their crying young made a sickening sound.

“Move back!” Daniel pushed John behind him and into the trees.

“What's going on? Who are all these people?” John tried to see around Daniel.

“I suppose it's more of those Indians that have to be moved to the west.”

“Why do they have to be moved?”

“There's been too many Indian uprisings. This was a part of the treaty for peace. But I don't think the Indian Chiefs knew what they bargained for.”

From the forest they watched as the downtrodden and exhausted people continued their oppressive march. The sick, old and babies were riding in wagons. An Indian boy about John's age walked with a limp. The wind whipped at his black hair, his face was dirty and streaked with tears as he stumbled to the ground. A large man with a copper colored beard yelled at the boy. “Get up and walk or I'll tie you to my horse!” The child just sat there, sobbing and rubbing his leg. He shivered in the cold. His bottom lip trembled as he sorrowfully wept. “I see you don't believe me, huh?” The man jumped from his horse. He proceeded to tie this child by the wrist.

“Jacob! You untie that child right now! I swear, you ain't got a lick of sense!” Another one of the soldiers yelled out as he rode upon the scene. The gold buttons glistened on the dark blue coat that was fastened tightly around him. He was of slender build with flashing dark eyes that seemed to command recognition even though he was of no higher rank than this heartless man.

“You think you're so high and mighty don't cha', Petterson? What are you gonna do about it if I don't?”