Listen To Me Honey (10 page)

“See, I told ya the rain wouldn't last long,” Art said.
“Now we can go mushroom huntin'. We might get a little damp around
our pant legs and socks, but it will be worth it if we find some
morels.”

Once they climbed over the fence,
Art said, “We can cover the timber faster if we don't walk side by
side.”

“What if I get lost?”

“Y'all cain't get lost. This is a small timber enclosed
with a fence. We'll always be in seeing distance of each
other.”

So Amanda walked to within seeing
distance of Art and headed the same direction he did. The spongy
soft humus felt funny under her sneakers. The timber smells
differed from any Amanda had ever known. She trudged in the rotting
leaves, stirring up a pungent odor and the damp, pleasant smell of
the woods.

A brisk breeze blew through the
trees, shedding water drops on her. Afraid the storm had returned,
Amanda quickly looked up. Splotches of azure blue sky and golden
transparent sun rays beamed to the ground through green
leaves.

After hearing raspy sounds, she
spotted a squirrel scurrying down an oak tree. He came out of his
den where he'd hidden from the storm. The red, fluffy creature kept
his clawed feet tightly gripped to the tree. As he scampered to the
ground his bushy tail waved like a copper banner.

A rustle in the carpet of dried
leaves drew Amanda's attention toward a group of gooseberry bushes
covered with tiny white blossoms, the prelude to very sour, green
berries.

From under one of the bushes burst
a startled, balding gray rabbit. She ran for cover in the thicker
underbrush. The piled up, boiling leaves under the bush hid her
nest, filled with hair from her body to keep her babies warm.
Amanda hoped she’d return to them soon.

“Grandpa, I think I just found a nest of baby rabbits under
this bush,” Amanda called.

“Don't touch them!” Art called back.

“Why
not?”

“If
ya touch the leaves to see the babies, the rabbit will smell human
scent on the nest. She will let her babies die,” Art
said.

Amanda backed up and moved on. Now
birds chirped pleasant songs. A mourning dove cooed three times and
was answered by another dove. The cheerful bob white call of a
quail sounded nearby. A blue jay’s quarrelsome squawk came from
overhead as he tried to intrude on another bird’s territory. Some
noisy crows argued about who should get the highest perch in a
tree. A redheaded woodpecker tapped on a tree as if signaling a
message in Morse Code.

A great horned owl hooted. The bird
swiveled his head so his dark, round eyes took in everything from
his perch high in a burr oak tree. The wood’s watchman warned the
other creatures someone was coming.

The wild turkeys gobbled loudly as
they heeded the owl’s warning. They scrambled noisily off through
leaves in the raspberry thicket before Amanda could see
them.

I’m
supposed to be looking for mushrooms, she chastised herself as she
attempted to keep her eyes on the ground around her feet. She
stopped with a thought. “Grandpa, I don't know what I'm looking
for. You better describe a morel to me.”

“Easy. Tan colored, and small ones can be gray. They look
like an upside down ice cream cone on a white stem,” Art called
back. “Look around dead trees rottin' away and in piles of leaves.
The mushrooms will peek out of them.”

Right in front of Amanda lay an old
log crumbling into sawdust. A perfect place for mushrooms, but all
she saw was big, black ants boring in and out of the rotting wood.
Each ant was intent on his own job. The ground around the log was
covered with small paw prints.

“I
found a rotting tree, but an animal has been after ants nesting in
the log. I see the animal's tracks, and where he clawed some of the
log into sawdust,” Amanda called.

“Must be a coon lookin' to catch a few ants for a meal,”
Art said.

Amanda was fascinated by the ants,
but she reminded herself to look for mushrooms.

An old jagged tree stump loomed
ahead. No mushrooms by it. Instead a cluster of tiny purple violets
caught Amanda's eyes. At least, she remembered the violet picture
her teacher held up.

The soft, moist black earth around
the violets was pitted with deer tracks. Perhaps, the deer stopped
to observe the violets, too, or take a bite out of them.

At last! Peeking out of the leaves
was a tan waffled, upside down ice cream cone shaped, moral
mushroom.

“Grandpa, I found one,” Amanda cried.

The loud snap of twigs and noisy
crunch of dead leaves alerted her she'd scared up a deer. She hoped
the deer knew which direction to go so it didn't run over
her.

Suddenly, Art was beside her. He
slipped through the trees, and she hadn't noticed.

“Only one. That’s too bad. I found a whole sack full. They
were thick where I was. I can’t believe y'all didn’t find more.”
Art held up his bulging bread sack.

“I
didn’t see any on this side of the woods,” Amanda excused. Then to
change the subject, she said, “Did you hear the turkeys
gobble?”

“Nope,” answered Art. “How about we walk back over the
ground ya covered and see if we can find a mushroom or
two?”

“Okay with me,” Amanda said.

They walked for awhile and still no
sight of a mushroom. Nearby were a group of umbrella shaped plants.
“What are these plants called?” Amanda asked.

“Mayapples. Usually when they're up and ready to
bloom that's a good sign mushrooms are up, too.” Art turned over a
plant top. “See the buds that will soon be white blooms. They turn
to green fruit.

Now look over beside ya at that
clump of small green grassy blades. That's wild onions. We used to
dig them to put in food. They're right hot, but they sure seasoned
up fried potatoes or whatever yer grandma wanted to put them
in.”

Dainty wild flowers were scattered
throughout the timber. As they walked, Amanda asked Grandpa to tell
her the flowers names. Lady slippers, delicate orange orchids, and
Dutchman's britches. They looked like wee pink and white men’s
trousers turned upside down as though laundry hung on a line to
dry.

They were almost out of the timber
when Art pointed off to Amanda's side. “Look there. That's a patch
of wild strawberries bloomin'. We got to remember where they are so
we can come back and pick the strawberries. Now that's good
eatin'.”

A strong, sweet perfume hung on the
breeze. Amanda sniffed the air. “What smells so good
here?”

“We're passin' through a wild plum thicket,” Art said.
“They sure are pretty trees covered with snow white blossoms, the
wood’s own air freshener.” He pointed at a grove of trees.” Looks
like we might have a good nut crop this fall, too.”

The various nut trees had green
postulates dangling from all the branches like fringe. A sign there
would be an abundance of nuts.

Art pointed to a three leaf vine
running up the side of a walnut tree. “Whatever ya do, stay away
from that vine. It's poison ivy. Ya will break out in blisters that
itch. Ya cain't help diggin' them, and that makes the poison spread
and turn to scabs. Takes a long time to get over it.”

“Is
there something to put on it?”

“We
used to boil up jewel weed to rub on the blisters. That's the same
as what some people call lady slippers,” Art said.

Amanda studied the vine. “I'll make
sure to stay away from that stuff.”

“Hold up! Stand still, Mandie. Ya almost stepped on that
big mushroom. How did ya miss that one comin' and
goin'?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t think I missed a thing.” Amanda
grinned as she noticed they were standing in the violet patch with
the deer tracks around it. She had come full circle in the timber,
it seemed.

When they arrived home,
Tansy was on the porch in her rocker. “Ya two fence fixers want a
glass of ice tea?”

“Sure do,” Art said. “We didn't just fix fence. We brought
ya back a right smart amount of work.”

He handed Tansy the bread
sack full of mushrooms. “Now that will be good eatin' for lunch,”
she praised.

Chapter Ten

After supper, they sat in
the parlor as usual. Amanda by Tansy on the couch like always.
Tansy patted Amanda's knee. “I talked to yer mama
today.”

Amanda asked hesitantly,
“You did? What did she say?”

“Iris was wonderin' if ya were ready to come home,” Tansy
said.

Amanda straightened up.
“What did you tell her?”

“I said she'd have to ask y'all. It's yer decision to make.
Ya can stay here as long as ya like. We enjoy yer company,” Tansy
said. “Yer mama said if ya wanted to talk to them call tonight so
ya could talk to yer daddy, too.”

“Right now?” Amanda asked, sliding to the edge of the
couch.

Tansy smiled at the girl's
eagerness. “Yes, right now is good.”

“All
right, I want to talk to them,” Amanda said.

“Grandpa and me will go to the kitchen and get a cup of
coffee. That way ya can have privacy to talk to yer folks,” Tansy
said.

As they left the parlor, Amanda was
dialing home. Art sat in his chair at the table and waited for
Tansy to pour the coffee. “So did Iris call us, or did ya call
Iris?”

Tansy added a dipper of water to
the grounds in the pot. She put the pot back on the stove to simmer
until bedtime. “I called Iris. That girl's homesick and missin' her
folks. I just wanted them to know it. They should have called to
see how she was a long time ago.”

“Weell, that was right nice of ya,” Art said softly.” What
ya reckon that girl's goin' to do? We have worked the stuffin' out
of her since she's been here. She might be glad to go home quick
like.”

Tansy smiled contently. “She hasn't
worked near as hard as her daddy did when he was a youngun. What
will be will be. If that youngun goes home now, she's leavin' here
better for what time she stayed.”

“I
sure will miss Mandie when she leaves,” Art said, running a finger
over the rim of his cup.

“Me,
too,” Tansy said, wiping tears threatening to run down her face
with the tail of her apron.

“Think we should confess we aren't quite the old country
folks we've let her think we are?” Art asked.

“I
wouldn't. She likes our life as she thinks it is. Let's just keep
it that way.” Tansy said gleefully, “I told Iris they won't
recognize the girl when she goes home. She's a different person
altogether. Brown as an Indian with pigtails.”

Art grinned. “What did Iris say to
that?”

“She
squealed somethin' about us makin' matters worse by turnin' her
little lady into a tomboy,” Tansy said, smiling. “I told her that
was what we did all right.”

A half hour later, Amanda plopped
down next to Art at the table. “Can I have a cup of coffee,
Grandma?”

“It
will stunt yer growth,” Tansy said.

“I
reckon one cup wouldn't bother her much,” Art said, winking at
Amanda. “So how did yer talk with yer folks go?”

“Mom
said she checked on a summer school that starts the last of July.
If I took the courses and passed the tests, I can start eighth
grade with my classmates,” Amanda shared.

“Is
that what you're goin' to do?” Art asked.

Amanda nodded. “Yes, it sounds like
the sensible thing to do. I do want to go on with the kids I've
been with in school for eight years. The other thing was Mom asked
when was I coming home? She wanted me to come home right
away.”

“We
wondered ourselves about that,” Tansy said, sitting a steaming cup
in front of Amanda.

“You
sure you don't mind bothering with me all the time?” Amanda
asked.

“You're no bother atall. Why, you're the best chore girl I
ever had,” Art bragged.

Amanda laughed. “Grandpa, I imagine
I am the only chore girl you ever had unless we count
Grandma.”

“I'm
probably second best. Maybe third if he counts that dog,” Tansy
quipped.

Amanda continued, “Mom and Dad are
going on a Mediterranean cruise for a month. They're leaving in a
week.”

“Mercy, then we better thinkin' about gettin' ya to the bus
stop so ya can get home,” Tansy said.

Amanda slowly shook her head no. “I
told them if it was all right with you two I was staying here while
they're gone.”

“Sounds like they will have quite an adventure. Ya sure ya
want to miss out on it?” Art asked.

“Real sure. That's a grownup cruise. I certainly wouldn't
like it. Besides, there's a bunch of stuff we haven't done yet. You
have yet to show me how to fish. I've been so busy I haven't been
to visit Willa yet. I'll be lucky to get everything done I want to
do before the last of July when I really have to go home,” Amanda
said.

Art gave her a big grin and patted
her hand. Tansy came around the table to give her a tight hug.
“Well, we best get busy if we're goin' to get that list of yers
done.”