Past Forward Volume 1 (17 page)

When the phone stopped ringing, she almost
returned to her book without bothering to see who had called. Alas,
she realized that perhaps Chad remembered something important she
needed to know about the animals or some other part of the farm and
decided to try to remember how to check the messages and see if the
caller had left one. Bill’s name and number flashed at her, telling
her she had one missed call.

Bill’s voice sounded upset as he said he
hoped she was fine and that he could talk to her soon. Without a
second thought, she punched the button to dial his number and
returned to her chaise. “Hello, you called?” Willow remembered that
people said hello first and felt quite proud of her newly acquired
telephone skills.

“Willow?”

Her laughter soothed his spirit. “Have you
called many people in the past few minutes?”

“I owe you an apology.” Unsure how to reply,
Willow kept silent. Again he spoke. “Willow?”

“Yes?”

“I thought maybe you’d been
disconnected.”

He still sounded upset to her, but Willow
answered his unspoken question anyway. “No, I wasn’t sure what to
say so I thought I’d wait to see what you were apologizing for
before I answered.”

“I was presumptuous and rude. I was so
excited to show you my city that I didn’t even ask.”

“Well that’s understandable,” Willow
began.

“But it was still wrong of me. I would never
have done that to your mother.”

The mention of her mother made Willow
curious. “If you wouldn’t have—”

“I kept my relationship with your mother
strictly professional. With all of my faults, I know how to treat a
client.”

Understanding dawned. “And you were trying
to be my friend as well as my financial advisor.”

“Yes. Can we try again? Can I come get you
for the day tomorrow or next Saturday and we go see some of the
things I think you’d enjoy?”

“Just the day?” Visiting Rockland and seeing
museums, zoos, and parks sounded wonderful, knowing she’d sleep in
her own bed in her own home.

“Especially at first. Eventually you might
want to stay over and spend more time here, but you’re not that far
away. I can pick you up and have you back in the city before
ten.”

She grew more excited as she thought about
the possibilities. “Could I be home before six? Six is really the
latest I should milk Willie.”

“
That’s totally
doable.”

“Great! This weekend won’t work—I have a lot
to do in the garden tomorrow, but maybe next week…”

“Of course,” Bill replied sounding relieved.
“What would you like to do most?”

They discussed their options—from bowling to
roller-skating, to ice-skating and the museums. Eventually, they
decided on the Pennsylvania Avenue Museum. “Mother described it in
great detail when I was little. If they haven’t changed much, I
think I will know every room by heart before I ever see it.”

She started to say goodnight when Bill’s
voice asked tentatively, “Willow?”

“Still here.”

“Have you ever had sushi?”

Unaware of the hours ticking past, Willow
read until the dawn streaked across the sky and into her living
room. Each year grew more familiar than the last. Their first cow,
the dog that Mother had to shoot when a rabid raccoon bit him—they
all flooded into her memory bringing her deeper into the past. A
reference to her education in the year Willow was four intrigued
her.

August-

I can see that Willow is an intelligent
child. She picks up on everything much more quickly than I
anticipate. I’ll need to keep ahead of her if I want to keep her
curiosity piqued and challenge her. I tried to convince myself to
send her to school, but I won’t do it. I’ll educate her, but I’m
going to do it differently than the schools. I ordered a book by
John Holt on teaching children. We’ll see.

December-

She’s reading! Everything. Those bright eyes
fly over a page faster than her mouth can keep up! If I wasn’t her
mother, I’d call her a prodigy, but I know I am extravagantly
biased. I started by pointing out letters on everything. Simple
things like, “That’s a W. It makes a wwww sound like at the front
of your name. Wwwwillow.” By the end of a couple of weeks, she
could tell me most of the letters and the sounds they made. I took
note and filled in the gaps. By the end of September, she was
combining letter sounds, but I didn’t realize it. I thought at just
four, she wasn’t ready for “real reading.” How silly of me. I
taught her things like a silent e and l and about combined vowels,
and now, she reads everything. I caught her reading my book on how
to raise and butcher chickens.

It is hard not to try to turn it into a
regular school activity. I want to make her practice writing the
letters and assign books rather than letting her read everything
willy-nilly, but I’m determined to make learning a natural part of
a life lived. Now, how to add math facts as a normal part of
life... That is the question. Oh, good note. Put the
Tales from Shakespeare
book on a shelf near her
books.

April-

I finally learned how to teach her math. It
is a bit ambiguous, but she’s learning and doesn’t realize it yet.
I started with the calendar. I just made a point of looking at the
day every day several times a day. Pretty soon she knew the days of
the week and the numbers through thirty-one. Then I taught counting
by sevens by just saying it over and over. “It’s the thirteenth…
add seven days and next Tuesday will be the twentieth. That’s a
good day to do xyz.” She heard and learned. I’d ask her to bring me
two carrots in one hand and three in the other and when she got to
me, I’d ask how many she had all together.

She mastered the addition and subtraction
facts easily, so she’s learning her multiplication tables, but she
doesn’t know it. Right now, she’s climbing stairs two at a time
counting by twos. I have her sort beans by threes. Oh, and I’m
teaching her the fives and how to tell time with the clock. As it
is, she knows that five times twelve is sixty—the number of minutes
in an hour. She knows that five times five is twenty-five minutes
after the hour. She’s getting it. And without pages of rote writing
for nothing.

But that is the trouble. She can’t print.
Then again, she isn’t five yet so I think it’s ok.

When the bright shaft of sunlight broke in
through the living room windows, Willow closed the journals and
hurried up the stairs to her bedroom. She counted as she took the
steps two at a time. “Two, four, six, eight—oh Mother, you were so
smart!”

Sunday after church, several of the young
single women invited Willow to lunch and a movie, but she declined.
“I had plans for this afternoon, but thank you for inviting me. I
hope you ask me again.”

Chad overheard her and wondered what could
possibly be so important. In the foyer, he saw her changing shoes
in the corner and shook his head. “Willow?”

“Hi there. I love church! I’m so glad you
invited me. If I can find time, I might start coming to the ladies’
Bible study. It’d be nice—I think.”

“Perhaps soap making can wait for a day,” he
muttered with weakly disguised sarcasm. “I’ll drive you home.
You’ve walked enough this week.”

“Oh I don’t mind—”

After a deep breath to help him stamp down
his rising irritation, Chad manufactured a smile. “But I do. It
would be rude of me not to offer you a ride. My mother would be
appalled.”

“Really? Why? I’m perfectly capable—”

“It’s just a cultural thing. People don’t
leave others to walk when they can offer a ride.” His cell phone
rang.

With a shrug, Willow nodded. “Ok. Then I’ll
offer you lunch in return. Mother talked about Grandmother inviting
people to dinner after church.”

She met him at his truck. Chad slid his
phone shut and leaned gingerly against the hot edge of the truck
bed. “What do you think about a short drive?”

“Drive?”

“My Uncle Zeke has puppies. Nice lab mixed
mutts. Not all that bright but loyal, barkers, and they get along
well with other dogs.” As he spoke, he pushed away from the hot
metal and jogged around to open her door.

He drove to the highway and paused. Willow
glanced at him sidewise, the blast of the air conditioner sending
her hair swirling around her face at the slightest turn of her
head. “Want to go see them?” Chad grinned as she nodded. He flipped
the blinker, before turning onto the highway. “Uncle Zeke says Luke
is there with a couple of Aggie’s kids.”

“Who are Luke and Aggie?” Willow reached for
her purse, brought out a hair tie and a brush, and began braiding
it.

“Luke is my cousin. He has been working for
some gal with eight kids—a widow or something.”

“Wow!” Willow exclaimed in awe. “I didn’t
know people had large families like that anymore. Most in Mother’s
family had two or three.”

In Brant’s Corners, Chad zipped along the
highway, pointing out Aggie’s house as they drove past it and to
his uncle’s farm. He pulled into a long gravel driveway not unlike
Willow’s. Fields of corn grew in the distance and a flock of
chickens scattered as Chad bounced into the yard.

“This feels like home. Look at all that
corn!”

“Uncle Zeke used to farm. Now he sells
cars.” Her skeptical look told Chad she didn’t believe him.
“Seriously. Now he rents out his fields to Mr. Daugherty—the farmer
behind him.”

Before Willow could respond, a man in
overalls and a plaid shirt started across the yard calling
greetings. “Chad, my boy! I am so glad you’re here. Martha is in
there makin’ lunch. You goin’ to join us?”

Chad led Willow across the yard and
introduced her to his uncle. “This is the man who taught me to milk
a cow, muck a stall, and how to de-tassel corn without getting
motion sick.”

“I hear you have a nice little spread of
your own.”

Willow nodded. “We have sixty acres outside
of Fairbury, but we’ve never farmed it. We just have a large garden
and pastures for the cow—a little alfalfa for feed.”

A woman’s voice called from the house, and
Zeke hurried inside to help his wife. “Come on out to the barn,”
Chad urged. “Luke’s probably in there with the kids.”

They heard the giggles of little girls long
before Chad slid the great barn door aside. A man a few years older
than Chad leaned over a stall and watched two little girls roll and
tumble with the puppies, squealing with every lick of a puppy’s
tongue. A third child, a boy of around eight sat in the corner with
a smaller pup, seemingly oblivious to the mayhem around him.

“Hey, Luke! How’s it goin’.”

Luke, shorter than Chad by several inches,
pounded his cousin’s back in a great bear hug before turning his
eyes to Willow. “Doing fine. Is this Willow?”

She nodded. “It’s nice to meet you,
Luke.”

Chad nudged her forward. “Don’t let the
girls hog them all. Be sure you get to know them.”

“I’ll take my turn when I’m ready.”

They watched the children with the puppies
until a loud clanging came from the back of the house. Luke and
Chad glanced at one another and took off racing for the back porch.
The boy smiled up at Willow and stood. “Luke said he and his cousin
always raced to dinner. I wonder who won.” To his sisters, he said,
“Come on Cari, Lorna, Mrs. Zeke has lunch ready.”

The little girls ignored him. Willow watched
amazed as they continued to play and disregarded his pleas to come
before they got in trouble. “Luke isn’t going to take us anywhere
again unless you come.”

One of the girls stood as though to follow,
but the other jerked her back down again. “Don’t wisten to him,
Worna. We can eat way-ter. Aunt Aggie will feed us.”

Shoulders slumped, the boy slipped out of
the barn, and as he did so, Willow caught sight of the men
returning. “My mother would be appalled at the idea of anyone not
coming to dinner when called.”