Spirit Pouch (15 page)

“You said you wanted a seed,” Annie states firmly.  “A bean is a seed.  I know because I planted one once and a bean plant grew.  It got pretty big, too.  I tried planting an apple seed, but it didn’t grow.  I planted corn once, too.”

I smile at her voluntary agriculture history.  “Thanks,” I say.  “This is a fine seed.  It almost looks like faith already.”  I feel excited. 
I’m going home soon, I hope.  Just a few more items for my new spirit pouch and I’ll be ready.

“Annie?” Elizabeth calls from the kitchen doorway.  “Come help me fix lunch.”

“Ah, Mother,” she whines, turning with a slight stomping of her foot.  She walks off toward the kitchen.  “I was just helping Jared with some stuff.  He’s leaving soon, you know.  He’s going home to Arizona because his mother misses him.”

“Well, your mother here in Colorado needs
you
.”

“Ah,” Annie whines.  “Not again.  I have to help every time.”

As Annie reluctantly disappears into the kitchen, I look around the small living room.  The idea of moving to a new house, a new city, a new territory, has sparked excitement in everyone, even Joseph.  I watch as Joseph finishes stuffing a rabbit’s foot into his left pocket.  Into his right pocket he stuffs a piece of string, a coin that looks like a tarnished copper penny, a cat’s-eye marble with a chip on one side, a rock that he calls his ‘gold,’ a rusty nail and a small pinecone.

“So, Joseph, are you all ready to go to Utah?” I ask.

“Yep.”  He pats his bulging pockets.  Then his eyes get wide, “No!  I forgot one thing.”  He darts back to his room and immediately comes back wearing a wide brimmed hat that looks like it came straight off a drifter from an old cowboy western television show.  “I almost forgot my hat.”

“So now you are ready?” I smile.

“Yep.  As soon as Father pulls the wagon around, then I’ll climb in and help him drive.  Sometimes he lets me do it cuz I know all the words.”  He takes a deep breath and yelps, “Haw!  Gee!  Whoa!” while shaking some imaginary reigns with his hands.
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George, Tom and William turn in unison and look at Joseph.  I can tell that they think he is hurt or that someone has stepped on his toe the way he yelled.  But after quickly assessing the situation as ‘young boy making needless noise,’ they turn their attention back to planning their move to Utah.

I watch with a smile as Joseph gallops around the room totally wrapped up in his imagination.  On his second lap around the room I call to him, “Joseph, do you have any games that you like to play?”

“Like what?” he asks.

“Like outside games.  Like hide and seek, or like tag?” 
I was about to say ‘Like throwing a Frisbee,’ but remembered that Frisbees
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were not invented yet.

Joseph’s eyes roll to the side.  “Yeah,” he says thoughtfully after searching his memory.  “We play tag sometimes.”  He pauses, “I know!” he practically yells, causing William and George to glance our way one more time.  “Come on!”

Joseph races to the front door and lifts the latch, tugging at the heavy, solid door.  It creaks open and he darts outside and off the porch in a single bound.  By the time I get outside he is nowhere to be seen.

I step off the porch into the long grass remembering the night that I arrived in my stocking feet with no shoes, the wet grass, and the pebbles poking the soles of my feet. 
I’m really glad I have boots now
, I think. 
And I still need to pay William seventy-five cents,
I remember.  I look out at the horizon, where the green meadow and the nearby hills meet the partly cloudy sky.  Stretching my arms, I take a deep breath of cool air and my deep breath turns into a full yawn.  The sun is warm on my skin and the ever so slight breeze is cool and inviting.

This is nice!
I think. 
Why would anyone want to move to Utah?

“Hey, Jared,” Joseph calls as he pops around the corner of the cabin.  “We could use these.”  He holds up two round wooden rings and two sticks, and a proud smile beams across his face.

“Okay,” I say.  “What do we do with those?”  I am thinking of a Hula-hoop, and images of Joseph and I trying to keep these wooden rings spinning around our waists almost make me laugh.

Joseph smiles.  "We race, silly,” he says, as though everyone knows what you do with a wooden ring and a stick.

“That sounds fun.  How do you do it?”

“You just make it roll,” he says.  “And you have to push it with your stick.  And who ever gets there first wins.”

“Okay!” I say with enthusiasm.  “So … let’s see …” I look around.  “Should we race down to the road and back?”

“You mean right there where the wagons go?” he waves his arm toward the road.

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” he agrees, handing me one of the wooden rings after checking them over carefully.  “I’ll say ‘go’ in a minute when I’m ready.”

“Okay, just tell me when,” I reply. 
How hard could this be?
I think. 
You just tap it with the stick.  It rolls.  You tap it faster.  It rolls faster.  I win.  No sweat.

“On your mark.”  Joseph pauses about one second.  “Get set.  Go.”

I let go of my ring and nudge it with my stick.  Instead of rolling toward the road like I imagine it will, it hits a tuft of grass and falls over.  I glance at Joseph.  His ring is actually rolling!

“Hah.  I’m winning,” Joseph chimes as he pushes his ring again.

I lift my ring up and give it a healthy shove with my stick.  “Yes!” I cheer.  But the ring has a mind of its own and decides to change course directly toward the cabin.

“No!” I yell, trying to turn the ring with my stick.  It immediately tips over, kicking up a little puff of dirt where it skids to stop on its side.  I might have had better success turning the ring had I considered a few basic gyroscopic principles
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that I had accidentally
observed while spinning my bicycle wheel as it sat upside down after fixing a flat tire.  But who has time to think of all that?  After all, Joseph is winning big time.

I frantically lift the ring, turn it back toward the road and give it a whack.  This time it gets going pretty good.  “I’m coming now!” I holler.

“I’m winning,” Joseph calls back as his ring bounces onto the road.

I run behind my ring nudging it as hard as I dare.  I can not afford another catastrophic collapse of my wooden wheel onto the ground.  In fact, I can not afford another misdirection due to operator error.  After all, my reputation is at stake.  I have to go fast.  And Joseph is still winning.

“Hah,” Joseph yelps as he passes me going the other way.  “I’m ahead of you,” he yells, giving his wooden ring a calculated nudge.

I have no time to watch him gloat.  After all, I am approaching the road with all the speed and determination I wish it had earlier.  I take a flying leap and place a full body block in front of the ring.  It bumps against my leg, coming to an instant full stop.  I jump back and before it has a chance to fall I whack it with my stick and send it wobbling on its way toward the finish line.  It tries to go sideways when it rolls over a patch of grass, but I give it no mercy and smack it again.  It is not going perfectly straight, but I need the speed.

Now I can see Joseph just up ahead.  I see him give his ring a nudge and for the first time I hear William and George, cheering from the porch.

“Go, Joseph!  Go, Joseph,” they yell.

Hey!
I think. 
Who’s cheering for me?

“Go, Jared!” I hear Annie yell.

I do go.  I give my ring another whack and by some miracle it heads straight for the finish.  I run to catch up with it and nudge it on to victory, but Joseph gives his ring a final push and it bounces triumphantly over the finish line.

“Yay!  Yay!  Yay!” he screams.  “I won.  I’m the champion.”

“Wahoo!” George yells.  “That was some race!”

I am a little saddened that my competitive nature is not satisfied and my ego is not nurtured by such a triumphant win, but just watching the joy Joseph gets by being the best is all worth it.

Annie and Joseph want to race next, so after they get into position I yell, “On your mark.  Get set.  Go!”

It is a very close race.  Sometimes Annie is ahead.  Sometimes Joseph.  William and George and I cheer so loud that Henry and Elizabeth come out to see what all the commotion is about.  They can’t help but to cheer a little, too.

Joseph wins again, but I almost need a photographic finish to tell.  Annie is really close.  One thing for sure, we are going to hear about how great Joseph is for the next few days.  He is so excited.  Annie is not too happy, though, and that just makes the win for Joseph that much more sweet.

“I won.  I won,” Joseph chants as he dances around waving his arms like a cheer leader.

“Okay,” I yell.  “Let’s play a new game.  It’s called … ah … Lover’s tag,” I say, totally making up the name.  I see Elizabeth and Henry’s  eyebrows go up. 
Maybe I should have called it by it’s real name, Mormon Tag.
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  But that would have raised a lot of hard to explain questions, and we have a game to play.

“Well, maybe it’s not Lover’s Tag,” I backpedal quickly.  Maybe it is called Friend Tag.  All you do is get a partner and interlock your elbows, like this.”  Annie is close by, so I lock my elbow with hers.

“Kind of like you are going to start a dance,” Tom chimes in as he emerges from the house.

“Yes.  Exactly,” I agree. 
I want to say that that is why some people call it Lover’s Tag, but I decide not to push my luck.
  “Now, one person is “It” and tries to catch another person who is not paired up.  If he wants to rest, he has to run over to someone who is paired up and grab their elbow.  The person on the other side has to let go and run because now he is the one being chased.”

“I get it,” Annie yells.  “You’re safe from being caught if you are locking elbows with someone.”

“Exactly.  So, I’m going to be “It” first, and I’m going to chase Annie.  The rest of you better pair up quickly.”

Annie looks shocked for a second, then lets out a scream and darts toward William, who has linked arms with George.  Annie grabs William’s arm and George brakes loose.

“Aaah,” he yells, and jumps to the porch, grabbing Elizabeth’s arm.  Henry’s eyes get wide and he immediately runs toward Joseph, but I tag him and grab Joseph’s arm.

It is great to see the whole family laughing and playing together.  We run and chase each other until we are totally exhausted.

“Come in for lunch,” Elizabeth finally calls.  She turns and enters the cabin and one by one we each follow.

For lunch we eat home baked bread with some kind of meat.  I decide that it is not beef, and with that decided, I do not want to know more, at least for now, anyway.  Of course we also have a large, cold glass of lumpy milk.

“Hey, William,” I say as he and I get up from the table after lunch.  “I bet I can beat you at a Stick Pull.
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  Do you want to try?”

I would love to win a game of Stick Pull, if you will show me how to play,” William laughs.

“I’ll be glad to show you,” I say.  “Come on.”

“Actually, you will need to show me tomorrow,” he says wincing apologetically.  “Family rules are that Sunday afternoons are considered quiet time.”

“Quiet time?” I ask.  “What do you usually do during quiet time?”

“You can read.  Father likes to read the scriptures, but if we ask him, he will let us borrow them to read.  Or you can read to someone, like Joseph or Annie.  Or you can write a letter or draw a picture.  I carved a whistle once during quiet time.”

“That’s …” I almost say ‘cool’, but instead I say “… great!  I’m going to ask your father if I can read his scriptures for a while.”

William pulls out a knife and starts whittling on a small piece of wood, and I walk over to Henry.

“Would you mind if I borrow your Book of Mormon to read for a little while?” I ask, hopefully.

“I am always happy to lend this book,” Henry smiles, handing over his scriptures.  “What part are you going to read?”

“Oh, I don’t know.  I learn something new every time I read this book.  What’s your favorite part?”

“I like the book of Ether.  He is a great prophet.  But it is actually Moroni who talks about faith.”
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“Thanks.  That is where I will start,” I say, taking the book and carefully opening its pages after settling into a comfortable spot on the polished wooden floor. 
After all, if a guy is named after an ancient prophet, he should read what he says,
I think.  I have read from the book of Ether before.  In fact, I have read the entire Book of Mormon, but I like Ether.

I locate the section on faith toward the end of Ether and begin to read those passages.  After a minute or so Joseph comes over and sits on the floor next to me.  He pulls the rabbit’s foot out of his pocket and begins making it hop around the floor as his toy springs to life in his imagination.

Soon the jumping rabbit’s foot and the hard wooden floor and the quiet murmur of conversation around the family room melt away as I read the words of the ancient prophet, Ether.  I am just starting to read the words of Moroni concerning faith when Annie quietly sits down next to me and stares at the page I am reading, so I read the next sentence out loud, “Behold, it is the faith of Alma and Amulek that cause the prison to tumble to the earth.”
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