Hidden in the Trees (Bellingwood Stotries #1) (2 page)

Nipping at his running feet, Homer chased the boy to the front door of the house. Andrew was panting and stopped to take a breath before going inside. He opened the door and yelled, “It’s here! It’s here!”

Sylvie greeted her son with a smile. She bent over the cart and hefted the sack of flour into her arms, then reached down to lift the sugar out of the cart.

Andrew grabbed the parcel and stood looking at the small sack that Mr. Ivins had set into the cart. The package filled his arms and he wasn’t sure how to carry everything in at once. By the time he finally decided he would have to make a second trip, his mother had returned to help.

"Did Mrs. Watson pay you for the eggs?" she asked, dangling the empty pail in front of him.

"Yes, it's in my pocket and so is the change from Mr. Ivins. But can we open the package from Uncle Robbie first?" he asked, lifting it up.

She took it from him and set it down on the table, then put her hand out for the coins. Andrew dug around in his left pocket and handed her the dime, then shoved his hand down into his coat pocket and pulled out the five pennies he'd received from Mr. Ivins at the General Store. He placed those in her hand as well, and she dropped them into a jar over the sink.

"Why don't we open the package from Uncle Robbie tonight at dinner when Jason can enjoy it with us?" she said. "Besides, if you don't hurry, you will be late for school. You don't want to miss anything, do you?"

"Could you at least peek in there and see if he sent another book?" Andrew begged.

"No, you can wait until tonight. Go put on your clean shirt and run off to school. You don't have very many days left until school is out for the summer and it wouldn't do to have Miss Giller upset with you this late in the year.

He loved his teacher. Miss Giller had moved in last year and she loved books as much as he did. She let him borrow some of hers when he was out of reading material and told him he was one of the best readers in the school, even better than some of the older kids. They had begun working together on his writing and he finished a couple of stories that she took to the newspaper office. Seeing his words in print was exciting and his mother purchased extra copies of those issues.

Andrew changed his shirt and picked up his leather bag. It carried his pencils and some paper as well as a math book and a geography book. He didn't have very much homework, but the geography book had maps in it that he looked at every evening. He traced some of the maps, imagining the interesting places he was drawing. Mrs. Watson's stories of exotic cities fit right in with some of the locations he loved to draw.

Sylvie handed him another small pail, covered with a cotton towel from a flour sack. "Here's your lunch and I made something for Miss Giller. Tell her we would like to invite her to come for dinner tomorrow night if she's available."

Sylvie and Miss Giller had become friends soon after school began last year and the school teacher spent time at their table about once a week. Andrew's older brother, Jason, thought he was in love with his teacher, but she had a thing for the local carpenter, Henry Sturtz. Sylvie was certain they might get married someday.

Andrew thought his brother was silly and told him to fall in love with a girl his own age. Andrew couldn’t imagine ever worrying about what a girl thought, but wondered if it might be different when he was nearly thirteen years old.

He took the pail out of his mother's hand and started for the door, then turned back.

"Mr. Ivins wants more of your pies and bread. He says that they are gone a day after you bring them in."

"Thank you, Andrew. I'll be sure to make extras today and take them up. Have a good day!"

Homer followed him as he ran back up toward town. He didn't mind. The dog followed him every day to school and then went home. When classes were finished, Homer was back at the bottom of the steps waiting for Andrew to come out of the one-room schoolhouse and walk home.

He passed his brother and Ellis Anderson in the field and they waved as he ran by again.

When he crossed the street in front of the school house, he realized that no one was outside. He must be late! Andrew put on an extra burst of speed and ran up the steps, flinging open the front door. Students were milling about and he could see the teacher sitting at her desk in the front of the room. He had just enough time to slip into the room and shrug his jacket off over the back of his chair.

His desk mate was Clyde Smithson, who was actually a year older than Andrew, but had been very sick the year before and was held back. He was still a weak looking child and his mind often wandered. He tried to copy Andrew's work, but a stern look every once in a while from the teacher kept the boy focused on his own papers.

"Good morning, students," Miss Giller called out. "Please find your seats and we will begin today's lessons."

There were now twenty-two students in the classroom even if the older boys were absent. They had left just as planting season started. During fall harvest, they would be gone again. The teachers always worked around it and offered to help them finish their school work so they could advance to the next grade level.

"We only have three weeks of school left and it is time to begin preparing for your exams."

A collective moan at her words rose from the room. Each year a man from the State office came and administered exams to ensure that students advanced to the proper grade and to see if any were eligible to go on to college, that is, if they wanted to go. Last year the banker's son, Ben Abernathy, had gone away to Iowa City to the State University. He was going to be a lawyer.

Andrew thought that sounded horrid. He wanted to be a famous writer when he grew up, but thought it also might be fun to be a teacher like Miss Giller. He thought about moving away to another town and living away from his family. It scared him, but he knew he could do it.

Ben Abernathy came back to the school to tell about his first year of college and Andrew was enthralled with the idea of living in Iowa City. The city was named after his state! Ben told them that the building where he took classes used to be the capital building when Iowa was still a territory.

Andrew had started reading books about the expansion of the United States. Iowa had become a state only four years before he was born. Now there were towns and cities and the capital had moved to Des Moines and he might get to go to college in Iowa City someday.

"Andrew?"

He looked up. Miss Giller was standing over his desk.

"Yes, Miss Giller?"

"I asked if you would be able to listen to the primary children’s spelling this morning."

"Yes, Miss Giller."

He stood up and walked over to where the younger kids were gathered around a table and sat down with them. There were three little ones this morning and they all smiled at him. This was a normal day in the school house. The older students always helped the younger ones so the teacher could make sure everyone was learning.

When lunch time arrived, Miss Giller lifted a bell and rang it. Everyone set their work down on their desk and began chattering with each other as they pulled out their lunch pails. Andrew carried his pail up to the teacher's desk and said, "My mother sent a lunch for you and asked if you would be able to come to dinner tomorrow evening."

She smiled at him and replied, "Thank you and tell your mother thank you as well! It would be lovely to join you for dinner tomorrow. Is she making butter today?"

Everyone in town knew the schedule for Sylvie Donovan's kitchen.

"Yes and she said there would be pie tonight. Mr. Ivins even asked her to bring some pies up to his store so he could sell them."

"If your mother is making pie today, then dinner tomorrow night will be perfect. Tell her I will bring my Parcheesi board and we can play a game or two."

"You or Jason always win when we play that game," Andrew lamented.

"If you keep playing, you will win someday. I promise. How is Jason doing? I miss seeing him at school."

"He’s fine," Andrew said. "He has those new horses and they're all he ever talks about."

"They help on the farm, don't they?"

Andrew nodded, "He and Ellis were able to dig up more ground with them and last week just one of them pulled the till through our garden so mother can start planting vegetables. Now if we could just teach them how to pull weeds."

"Andrew, are you coming out to play?" His friend, Lawrence Davis, was standing at the back door, waiting for him to join their classmates. Andrew took a quick glance back at Miss Giller and she nodded. He turned the pail upside down on her desk and took one of the sandwiches, leaving everything else for her and ran to catch up with his friends.

Lawrence had a small ball they tossed around. There had been talk of learning the rules for a game called baseball, but they didn't have the right equipment and it was easier just to throw it back and forth to each other. Sometimes they played tag and when it was warmer, Miss Giller would come outside and organize them into teams and have races.

She came to the door and rang the bell, signifying the end to lunch and the beginning of afternoon classes. Fortunately, she knew that children had a difficult time concentrating on school work when their tummies were trying to process their lunches, so she started the afternoon with music class. She passed out percussion instruments and asked everyone to gather around the piano, a precious gift to the school from her father. When she felt they'd had enough, it was time for math and science.

As much as Andrew loved school, he couldn't wait to get home to see what was in the package. He met Homer at the bottom of the steps, ran all the way home and was surprised to find his mother talking with two men outside their front door.

He slowed down as he approached and she opened the door and said, "Go on in, Andrew. I'll be there in just a few minutes."

That was unexpected. He needed to get started on the evening chores so he had time to work on his homework before supper and it got dark. His mother didn't seem very happy with the men, but Andrew didn't think they were threatening her.

He stood close to the front door and tried to listen to what they were saying.

"If you hear anything, you will be sure to call the Sheriff, won't you, Mrs. Donovan? You don't want to go to court just to help these folks out. It's against the law and there will be a terrible fine for anyone who gets involved. It’s better just to send them back where they came from," one of the men said.

"Thank you for stopping by," Sylvie said and put her hand on the latch of the door. Andrew stepped back into the room and waited while she stood in the door and watched the men walk to the road and up toward town.

"Who was that, mother?" he asked.

"It was nothing, for you to be concerned about," she replied and muttered to herself as she put two finished pies on a rack to cool. "If I want to help someone out, I will help them out. There's no one who will stop me. I don't live down south and slaves should feel safe somewhere. If they don't feel safe in Bellingwood, it isn't because I haven't tried."

"Slaves?" Andrew asked.

She looked at him as if she were surprised to see him still standing there. "It is nothing for you to worry about. Don't you have chores to do before dinner? Get moving and don't forget to change into your work shirt."

Andrew obeyed, but furrowed his brow as he wondered at her words
.

Even though it was still cool outside, Jason had sweat dripping from his forehead as he met Andrew at the front door of the barn. He took one of the milk pails from him and they slowly walked to the house.

"Is it very hard work?" Andrew asked.

"Planting? Yes, it is, but it isn't nearly as hard as digging up the ground and carrying rocks out. After we got the wheat planted this morning, we dug up some of the ground across the creek back there. I'm glad Ellis is here to help, I'm still too small to do all of that work by myself," Jason responded.

Andrew looked up at his brother. He was beginning to change in many ways. Andrew saw muscles in his arms, and his pants were beginning to get loose around the waist. Jason's jawline was becoming more defined and since Sylvie hadn't cut his hair for quite some time, he looked more like a man than a boy.

"Do you wish you didn't have to work in the field?"

"No, it's what a man does to take care of his family."

"But, it's not what our father is doing."

"That's right and I will never be like him. He ran away, but you can trust me. I will always be here to take care of you and Mother."

Andrew slipped his free hand into Jason's. He could feel the blisters building up and wondered if their mother knew about them. Jason would be mad at him if he told, but Andrew planned to find a way.

"I know you will, Jason. Someday I will sell stories and help, too."

"Yes you will, but for now you have to keep going to school every day. You're the smart one and both Mother and I want to make sure you get the chance to go to college."

"Ben Abernathy is going to the State University in Iowa City. He wants to be a lawyer," Andrew said.

"I heard about that. Miss Giller told me that a new university was going to be built over in Story County, too. Maybe it will be accepting students when you are ready to go."

"Why wouldn't you go?" Andrew asked, squeezing his brother's hand.

"I won't have time," Jason said. "Ellis and I are going to keep building this farm. We're going to plant apple trees this summer on the other side of the creek."

Their farm was close to town. Andrew and Jason's parents had settled here when the town was incorporated and claimed the land just south of the main road. Ellis Anderson had been the family's saving grace. A single man, he had come in to work with Owen Donovan and then stayed when the other man took off. He lived in the barn during the warm months and slept on the floor in their house during the coldest parts of winter. He asked for very little and helped keep their family together.

One time, Andrew had asked his mother what slaves were. He had overheard her talking about the people that were running away from the southern states to Canada to escape slavery. When she explained that rich farmers owned many slaves so that they could have big cotton plantations, he didn’t understand what she meant.

She had gone on to explain that these people didn't earn any money and were considered to be property, much like she owned cows.

Andrew was shocked that anyone would consider another person to be like a cow. People could talk and cry and laugh. Cows didn't do any of those things. As much as he loved the animals on his farm, he knew it was very different than the love he felt for his mother and brother. Animals didn't feel love like that.

One day, when they were in Fort Dodge, he saw someone who looked very different from anyone he knew. The man had dark brown skin, it was almost black it was so dark.

That same day he saw another family who also had dark colored skin, but their skin was lighter brown and their hair was very straight.

When they were in the wagon on the way back to Bellingwood, he asked his mother about those people. She explained that he had seen a Negro man and a family of Indians.

"Why don't we have Negroes in Bellingwood?" he had asked her.

"Andrew,” she explained, “those people are from Africa. They were brought to America to be slaves. They didn't have a choice about where they lived. That man was probably a freed slave. That's why he can travel without worrying about someone taking him back to his master. But even though Iowa doesn't allow slavery, they will still return those who run away to the people who own them. It will be a long time until Negroes come to live in Iowa. The best place for them is in Canada. That is where they will be safe and can live without someone else telling them what to do."

Andrew thought about that. None of it made any sense to him yet. He thought it would be fun to talk to someone who had come from Africa. He loved looking at the map of Africa and thinking about how far away it was from Iowa. It was practically on the other side of the world. The only way to get from there to North America would have been on a boat. How long would that trip take?

Andrew wondered if Ellis was a slave. He worked on their farm and never went anywhere else. When he asked his mother if that were true, her mouth dropped open in shock and she exclaimed, "No! What makes you think that?"

He tried to explain what he was thinking and she gently stopped him, then sat him down at the table.

"Ellis makes his own life. I don't own him. He can come and go as he pleases and if he decided tomorrow that he wanted to go somewhere else, I would give him as much money as he needed and let him go. He stays because he wants to, though I can't imagine why."

"Could you have a slave if you wanted one?" Andrew had asked.

"Not in Iowa," she responded. "Up here it is illegal to own another person and I'm thankful for that."

"Me too," he had said.

His mind wandered back to the present and he grinned up at his brother.

“What are you thinking about?” Jason asked.

“I’m glad we don’t own people.”

Jason shook his head. “You’re odd, runt.”

He and Jason went inside together and Sylvie took the pails of milk from the two boys.

"Jason, why don't you run down to the creek and rinse off the sweat and grime," she said. "I know the water is cold, but you will feel much better when you are finished."

Andrew looked longingly at the parcel sitting on the table. There were apple pies beside it and wrapped packages of butter. He hoped that his mother had chilled some of the milk from this morning. He loved it when she did that. The water from their well was ice cold and sometimes she would bring up an extra bucket to cool the milk for supper.

When it was cold out, he loved fresh warm milk on his bread with a little sugar, but tonight he had a yearning for something cool.

"I'll go with you," he said to Jason. "Maybe we'll see some deer."

They ran down to the creek and Andrew laughed as his brother chased him back and forth until they got to the bank. He used to have so much fun with his brother when they played, but this last year Jason had grown more and more serious. They no longer played together as often.

Jason slid down the bank of the creek while Andrew sat down on the edge. After sucking in a big breath, Jason plunged his head into the cold water and came up with a shout.

"Yeeoww," he hollered. "That water is cold!"

Andrew rolled his eyes and then laughed at his older brother.

"If you're not careful, runt, I'll pull you in," Jason threatened.

"No!" Andrew cried, his eyes growing big.

"Oh, come on, it will make a man out of you."

"I'm not ready to be a man," Andrew whimpered. He watched as Jason made his way back up the bank and dropped down beside him.

"Can I tell you a secret, runt?" Jason asked.

"Sure. I won't tell anyone."

"Sometimes I don't think I'm ready to be a man either. I'm really scared that I can't do this."

Andrew punched his brother in the arm. "Mother thinks you're a man. I heard her telling Ellis one morning that she was sad you had to quit being a child so early, but that you had courage."

"She said that?"

"Ellis said that you were a better man now than our father ever was."

Jason looked down. Water was still dripping from his hair, soaking his shoulders and back. Andrew wanted to say something, but couldn't think of anything that was nice without sounding like a baby, so he stayed quiet.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Jason quickly turned to him and said, "Shhh," then put his forefinger to his lips.

Andrew went still, trying to hear what it was that had spooked his brother. He mouthed the word, "What?" and Jason shook his head, but pointed down the creek away from town. The creek passed by the west side of Bellingwood, cut through their land and then turned east at the far end of the fields.

Jason quietly stood up, then motioned for Andrew to follow him. They started into the trees lining the creek. The brothers had played in these trees since they were little and knew the area like the back of their own hands. They walked for a minute or so and Jason stopped, then turned around and repeated the gesture to stay quiet.

He motioned for Andrew to remain in place and went on ahead. In moments, Andrew heard his brother say, "Who are you and what are you doing on my land?"

There was a response, but Andrew couldn't understand a single word that was said. He knew the person was speaking English, but the man’s speech was so different that it was impossible for him to comprehend anything.

They spoke for a moment, then he heard Jason say, "Well, you can't stay out here with this little child. It is going to be too cold tonight. Come with me to the house."

Andrew heard them coming toward him and when Jason broke through the brush he was followed by a young man, a young woman and a child who was several years younger than he was. Andrew's mouth dropped open when he realized that these people had the same dark colored skin as the man he had seen in Fort Dodge.

Jason grabbed his arm and they walked back home without speaking. The young man kept looking furtively around as if he were afraid they might be seen. When they got to the front door, Jason opened it and gestured for them to enter.

"Mother," he called. "We have guests for dinner this evening."

Andrew was shocked and waited for his mother to scold Jason for his attitude. He knew better than that. You always asked permission before inviting someone to dinner and you never asked permission when they were standing in the same room.

But Sylvie glanced up from the table and when she saw who was standing in the door said, "Of course! Come on in. You have to be cold. Please. Come over to the stove where it is warm."

Andrew tried to take in the scene before him, shrugging out of his coat and hanging it on the hook beside the door. He watched as the young man helped his wife remove the satchel she had around her shoulder and then as she took off a coat and a woven jacket. Sylvie pointed to the rocking chair and Jason quickly grabbed it and pushed it into place. The young man held her hand as she sat down and then picked up their son and placed him on her lap.

At that point, he turned to them and said, "Thank you for your kindness."