Note: With the exception of Adam’s teacher and classmates, all the characters in this story come from “Inger, My Love.”  Just FYI, I did not base my description of five-year-old Adam on the child actor who portrayed him.  I’m sure he was a sweet child and adequate child actor, but except for having dark hair, he bore no resemblance to Pernell Roberts. 

 

 

A Real Nice Lady

By Deborah Grant

April 2003

 

The day started off like any other.  My pa and me have been travelin’ west to Oregon ever since I can remember with our wagon and Molly, our horse.  Most mornings Pa would cook us johnnycakes for breakfast and maybe even fry some bacon or salt pork if we had it.  But this was one of the mornings when we didn’t have any breakfast.  I knew that meant we was out of food and that meant Pa would need to look for work so we could buy some. If Pa can get work on a farm, that’s all right.  Usually the farmer’s wife gives me chores like feedin’ the chickens so I’m helpin’ to earn our keep.  I don’t like it when we have to stop in a town ‘cause it means I have to spend the day all by myself while Pa works.  I have my McGuffey’s Primer and my old slate and a piece of chalk and even my cloth ball and Noah’s Ark, but it’s so lonely cooped up in a room with nobody to talk or play with.  I know better than to complain.  Pa would be sad if he knew how much I hate bein’ left all alone during the day, but it wouldn’t change anything.  If we’re not gonna starve, then he has to get work.

 

As I rode in the wagon beside Pa, I noticed my throat hurt just a little when I swallowed.  It started out as just a tickle but then it started gettin’ real scratchy.  I didn’t say nothin’ to Pa, but it hurt my throat to talk and I guess he got ‘spicious ‘cause I was so quiet.

 

“Do you feel all right, Adam?” he asked gently.

 

“I’m okay,” I answered, but he took one hand off the reins and felt my forehead.

 

“I think you have a fever.  Adam, I’ve told you to tell me when you don’t feel well.”

 

“My throat hurts a little and my head.  That’s all,” I replied, wriggling away from his hand.  If we didn’t have money for food, we sure didn’t have it for medicine, and it always tasted just awful anyway.

 

“Why don’t you lie down in the wagon and rest for a bit?” Pa suggested with a smile, but his eyes looked worried.

 

I don’t know how long I slept, but we’d reached a town and I heard Pa gettin’ back up on the wagon so I climbed up onto the seat.  He smiled at me—a real smile this time—and asked how I felt.  I decided to be honest so I said, “My head still hurts, Pa, but I’m gettin’ hungry.”

 

Pa gave my neck a squeeze and said, “Well, that’s a good sign.  That shows you’re gettin’ better.”

 

My stomach was so empty it hurt so I asked hopefully, “Pa, are we gonna eat soon?”

 

“Yeah, son.”  He looked around and said quickly, “Yeah, I’ll go get something to eat.  I’ll be right back.”

 

He climbed down and I watched him walk across the dusty street toward a building.  I read the sign on it.  It said ‘General Store’.  I tried to wait in the wagon like I was supposed to do, but the longer I waited the worse I started to feel.  Even though it was a cool afternoon, I was hot and my throat was so sore it hurt just to swallow.  I climbed down from the wagon, which I’m not supposed to do unless Pa’s there to help me, and walked across the street and inside the building I’d seen Pa go in.  Pa was talking to a lady.  She was tall, almost as tall as Pa is, and she talked sort of funny, but I liked the way she sounded.  Her voice was real friendly.  Her hair was the color of honey and she had the prettiest eyes I ever seen.  They were as blue as the sky and they looked so happy; it made me feel better just lookin’ at ‘em.

 

Pa saw me first and he looked cross.  He gets that way sometimes and he hardly ever looks happy like the lady.  That’s ‘cause he misses my mama.  She died when I was born.  Pa told me that it wasn’t my fault, but sometimes I wonder if he wishes that it’d been me that died instead of Mama.  If I asked him, he’d say no, but I still wonder.  Anyway, he sounded cross when he told me I was supposed to wait for him in the wagon.  I don’t like Pa to be cross with me so I said, “Pa, I’m not feelin’ too well.”

 

The lady with the pretty eyes put her soft hand on my forehead and said, “My goodness, child, your head feels warm,” in that gentle friendly voice.  I felt better just from the touch of her cool hand on my forehead, but she told me to open my mouth.

 

I did and she looked and said to Pa, “Oh, it is not bad.  It’s a little on the pink side.  It’s a thing of the throat children get.”  She patted my shoulder and then she said, “Oh, wait a minute.  I have something for that.”  She walked over to a big cupboard at the back of the store and pulled out a crock.

 

“What is it?” Pa asked and he didn’t sound very friendly.

 

“Salt pork and onions,” the lady said with a smile that made her whole face light up.  “Don’t laugh.  It’s an old Swedish remedy.  I’m sure it will help.”  She handed Pa the crock and said, “Now, when you get to the boardinghouse, ask Mrs. Miller to heat it.”

 

Pa frowned and looked worried so I knew he was afraid the medicine would cost too much money.  He asked, “How much will this be?”

 

The lady smiled at me and she looked so friendly that I smiled back and she said to Pa, “Nothing.  It’s for the boy.”

 

“I don’t need charity,” Pa said and he sounded cross with the nice lady.

 

“I’m not offering you charity,” the lady said quietly.  “I’m offering you medicine for your boy because I happen to like children.”   She turned to me and smiled that friendly smile.  “Goodbye, Adam.  I hope you feel better.”

 

“Thank you, ma’am,” I said as Pa had taught me, and the lady smiled again.  Pa had a funny look on his face as he put his hand on my shoulder saying, “Come on, Adam.”

 

As we walked back to the wagon, he told me that Miss Borgstrom (that was the nice lady’s name) had told him that a Mrs. Miller took in boarders, so Pa headed Molly toward Mrs. Miller’s house.

 

 

 

The boardinghouse was a two story clapboard building painted white with a verandah in front and one upstairs at the front as well.  Mrs. Miller was one of those old ladies that pat me on the head and call me “a poor little boy”.  I know they mean to be nice but they make Pa feel bad.  It ain’t his fault I don’t have a mama.  ‘Sides, Pa and me do just fine.  Well, mostly we do.  Pa ain’t such a good cook and when we stay at a boardinghouse the food is usually better.  Sometimes I wonder if my mama was alive, would she make me my favorite foods?  When we stayed at a farm in Indiana, the lady there made raspberry cobbler for her boy so I bet my mama would make it for me.  I bet she’d have soft hands just like the nice lady and every night she’d kiss me goodnight just like Pa does.  And when I feel bad like I do now, she’d let me come sit on her lap and I’d feel better just bein’ with her.

 

 

Mrs. Miller showed us a cozy room with tan plastered walls and two windows with brown drapes.  The bigger window was between two high-post beds, and one of the beds was small.  It looked like it had been made for a little boy like me. Each of the two beds had a chest of drawers on the wall opposite and there was a Windsor chair in the corner.  Pa got my nightshirt out of our valise and told me to take off my clothes and put it on while he fixed my supper.  I got undressed and put my nightshirt on and then I tried to fold my pants and shirt neatly the way Pa had taught me. (He told me a good sailor always takes care of his things and puts them away ‘cause there isn’t much room on board a ship.)  Once that was done, I got into the little bed.  Almost as soon as I got in, Pa and Mrs. Miller came back and Pa had a big bowl of bread and milk.  I was really hungry so I ate it real fast.  While I was eating Pa asked Mrs. Miller to heat up the medicine the nice lady gave us.

 

After she left, Pa smiled at me and moved the Windsor chair beside my bed and sat down.  “Well, my goodness!  You certainly didn’t waste any time finishing that up,” he said as he took the empty bowl away.

 

“I sure wish there’d been some jam with the bread,” I said.  I love raspberry and strawberry jam, but we didn’t have jam very often.

 

“Yeah, well, it filled up the cavity,” Pa replied patting my stomach, “and tomorrow we’ll have some real food.”

 

“Sure, Pa,” I said ‘cause I didn’t want him to feel bad and wished I hadn’t mentioned the jam.  “Pa?” I asked as he walked toward the door with my empty bowl.

 

“Yes, son?” he said turning to look at me.

 

“Pa, did you have anything to eat?”

 

“Oh, I’ll have something to eat later.  I’ll go down and wait for that medicine.”

 

“I won’t like that medicine much, but that lady who gave it to us, she was nice, wasn’t she?”

 

“Yeah,” Pa replied with a smile.  “Yeah, she was real nice.”

 

 

The medicine made my throat sting but I didn’t say anything and ate all of what Pa gave me.  “Would you tell me a story?” I asked.

 

“About me and your grandfather on the Wanderer?”  I nodded so he said, “How about you sit on Pa’s lap and I’ll tell you about the first time I met your grandfather.” 

 

I guess I fell asleep on his lap ‘cause when I woke up it was mornin’ and I was tucked in my bed.  Pa brought up two bowls of oatmeal and butter, a glass of milk for me, and a cup of coffee for him.  We ate in our room before Pa went to work.  He told me he wanted me to stay in bed ‘cause I still felt a little feverish and then he left.

 

 

I lay in the bed, trying not to feel sorry for myself, but it was awful hard.  I read some in my primer and practiced my penmanship, but I got tired of that and my Noah’s Ark and my ball was still in our wagon.  I fell asleep and when I woke up I was hungry but no one came to bring me any dinner.  I felt tears filling my eyes and I scrubbed at ’em but I just couldn’t stop ’em.  I was so lonely.  While I was cryin’, I heard a soft knock on the door and the nice lady from the store walked in and sat beside my bed.  “Hello, Adam,” she said smiling at me.  I was ashamed that she’d caught me cryin’.  Big boys of five aren’t supposed to cry like little babies.  She didn’t say anything about my cryin’ though; she just wiped my face with her handkerchief and then told me to blow my nose.

 

When I finished she smiled and said, “I asked Mrs. Miller to heat up your medicine.  I know your father is working so I thought I would come give it to you.  I remember when I was a little girl and I had to stay in bed, I always enjoyed company.”  She looked around our room and suddenly she noticed my mama’s music box with its pretty little angels where Pa had set it on his chest of drawers.  “How lovely,” she said smiling happily.

 

“It belonged to my mama.  If you open the lid, it makes music.  C-could I play the music?”

 

“Of course.  But you must be careful, for it is very delicate.”

 

“I will be,” I promised.  I’d always wanted to hold the music box but Pa wouldn’t let me touch it.  The nice lady walked over to the chest of drawers where Pa had set it but before she picked it up, she saw the picture of Mama sitting beside it.

 

“This is your mama, isn’t it, Adam?”  I nodded.  “She was lovely,” she said slowly.  She smiled at me and said, “You look like her.  You have her eyes and her curly hair.”

 

“I wish it wasn’t curly.  Curly hair is for girls!” and I pouted a little.  Pa doesn’t like it when I do that but sometimes it’s hard not to.

 

“Your hair is very pretty, Adam,” the nice lady said as she brought the music box to me.  “You should be happy you have hair like your mother’s.  It helps you remember her.”

 

“She died when I was born, so I can’t remember her at all,” I replied honestly

 

She looked sad when I said that and then she said, “But your father talks to you about her and so you know her that way.”

 

“No, ma’am,” I answered.  “Talking about my mama makes Pa unhappy, so he doesn’t.”  She looked even sadder when I said that but began giving me my medicine.

 

Listening to the pretty music and looking at the little angels made it lots easier to take the medicine and it didn’t make my throat sting as much this time.  Suddenly Pa burst into the room, and I could see he was really angry and my stomach began to hurt ‘cause I knew he was angry with me for playin’ Mama’s music box.  The lady looked surprised to see Pa so angry, but she said in a gentle voice, “He asked me if he could play it.  I said it was all right.”

 

“What are you doing here?” Pa demanded scowling at her.

 

“Well, I’m giving your son his medicine,” the nice lady replied quietly.  “I knew you’d be busy.”

 

“I can take care of my son,” Pa barked as he grabbed the bowl of medicine out of her hand.

 

“Well, I’m sure you can,” the lady said, sounding just a little put out with Pa, “but not while you’re working all day.”

 

“Miss Borgstrom,” Pa said (and he still sounded really angry), “I had to accept your medicine.  That doesn’t mean I can’t run my own affairs.”

 

“Mr. Cartwright, why are you so against anyone helping you?” the nice lady asked.

 

Pa ignored her and turned to me with a frown and snatched the music box out of my hands.  “Adam, I don’t ever want you to play this again.  Do you understand?”  I nodded, afraid to speak and make Pa angrier.

 

“He told me about the music box.  He said it belonged to his mother,” the lady said.  And Pa turned to look at her.

 

“Yes, it did,” he replied and put the music box up on the table beside my bed.  Then he came back by me and put his hand on my forehead.

 

“He’s better,” the lady said.  “His throat is a little better.  His fever seems less, but I think you should continue with the medicine.”

 

Pa looked a little ashamed as he said, “I-I was going to come by the store as soon as I cleaned up a bit.  I don’t mean to be ungrateful—“

 

The lady interrupted.  (It’s funny; grownups always tell you it’s rude to interrupt, but they do it.  I just don’t understand them.)  “You know, without that dirty beard, your face looks quite nice.  In fact, if you wore a smile on it sometime, it might be quite an attractive face.  I think you could use a good meal yourself, Mr. Cartwright.  As soon as Adam is asleep, come to my house for dinner.  It’s right next to the store.”  She smiled at both of us before she walked through the door.

 

“You know, Pa,” I started to say, “she’s a real nice—“

 

“I know, son,’ he said with a smile.  “She’s a real nice lady.  Well, young fella, let’s finish up this medicine.

 

 

 

The next morning Pa said he didn’t think I had a fever so we ate breakfast with Mrs. Miller in the dining room, and then Pa gave me some more medicine and told me to play quietly in our room.  “And I have a surprise for you.  Miss Borgstrom sent you a piece of the cherry pie we had for dessert yesterday.  I won’t be able to come home for dinner but Mrs. Miller says you can eat with her and I’ll tell her you can have the pie then.  Now what lesson are you reading in your primer?”

 

“Lesson 40.  Lesson 39 was about a baby.  I think it would be fun to have one, don’t you?”

 

“You don’t get a baby the way you would a puppy or a kitten, Adam,” Pa replied and he had a funny look on his face.

 

“You have to have a mama, don’t you?” I said sadly, for that meant we’d never have one.

 

“That’s right, son.  You have to have a mama.”  I think he saw I was sad because he said in a pretend happy voice, “Tell you what, Adam.  When we get to Oregon, I’ll get you a puppy of your very own.  You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

 

“Sure, Pa,” I said and made myself smile.  After all, there was no use wishing for something I could never have.  And I could play with a puppy so I guess it’d be almost as good as a baby.

 

“Oh, Miss Borgstrom is coming by this afternoon to give you your medicine.  You be sure and thank her for coming to see you.”

 

“Course I will,” I exclaimed and Pa smiled at me and ruffled my hair.

 

 

I was working on the sums Pa had given me when Miss Borgstrom came to give me my medicine.  (Pa said I had done so well learning my numbers that he thought I was ready to learn to add.).  “Good afternoon, Adam,” she said smiling at me.  Her smile lighted up her whole face and I just had to smile back.  “Why, Adam,” she said sounding surprised.  “You have a dimple.  You should smile more often so people can see it.”

 

I didn’t know what to say to that so instead I showed her how I was working on my sums.  “Very good.  You haven’t made any mistakes.”  She looked at me thoughtfully.  “How old are you, Adam?”

 

“I’m five.  I’ll be six in November,” I said proudly.

 

“Oh, you are a big boy, aren’t you?  You know, we have a school here.  I will ask your father about letting you attend.  That way you could meet other children.  I expect you are lonely spending the day by yourself.”

 

“A little,” I admitted.  “But don’t tell my pa.”  She smiled and ruffled my hair.  Grownups always want to do that. Usually I don’t like anyone but Pa to do it, but I didn’t mind when the nice lady did.  What I really don’t like are ladies that pinch my cheek and say I’m pretty.  Boys aren’t supposed to be pretty.  Or they say, ‘Doesn’t he have the longest eyelashes you ever saw?’  Pa caught me trying to pull them off once and we had a necessary talk.  He said God gave me eyelashes just like my mama’s and I was to leave them alone.

 

“I’d like to go to school.  I like to learn things,” I added.

 

“Tell me, Adam,” she said.  “How long have you and your father been traveling west?”

 

“Ever since I can remember, but Pa said when I was a baby we lived with Grandfather Stoddard.  Pa writes to him and since we stay in one town during the winter ‘cause of the snow, Grandfather sends me a gift for my birthday and Christmas.  Pa says it’s a com—” and I tried to remember the word, “combination gift since it usually don’t get to us until Christmas.  Now that I know how to write, I write to Grandfather and Pa puts my letter with his and mails them together.  Pa was first mate to Grandfather and he tells me stories about when they sailed together.”

 

“So he tells you stories about your grandfather, but not your mother?  And you’d like to know more about her, wouldn’t you?”  I nodded.  “Have you ever asked your father to talk to you about your mother?”

 

“He said he would when I was older, but I could see that he was sad, so I don’t ask no more.” I felt my eyes begin to fill with tears again and I tried to blink them back.  “I wish God would let her come back from heaven and be with us so Pa wouldn’t be so sad.”

 

“And what about you, Adam?” the nice lady asked, picking me up and sitting me on her lap.  “Wouldn’t you like to have a mama?”  I knew I’d cry if I talked so I just nodded my head and she put her arms around me and hummed a song.  It felt so nice.  It’s nice when Pa holds me, but Miss Borgstrom was softer than Pa and she smelled so sweet.

 

“I bet you think I’m a crybaby,” I said when she stopped humming.

 

“Not at all,” she said with that pretty smile and touched my cheek with her soft hand.  “I think you are a lonely little boy who needs to spend time with other children.  I am sure that I can convince your father to let you go to school here.  It would be so much better for you than being here alone all day.”  She looked thoughtfully at me and then said, “You’ll need clean clothes for school.  Where are your clothes?”

 

I showed her and she frowned a little and said, “They need to be ironed. I’ll take them with me and I’ll bring them back tonight.”  She smiled again and said, “I still have a few minutes before I must go back to the store.  Why don’t you read to me from your primer?” so I read her the lesson about Henry Black and Ned Bell.  Ned is a bad boy that throws rocks at birds and tries to kill them, but he has a baby at his house.  If a bad boy like him can have a baby, it just don’t seem fair that I can’t ‘cause I try hard to be a good boy.

 

 

 

I guess Miss Borgstrom did convince Pa to let me go to school ‘cause that night she brought over my shirt and pants all nice and ironed.  I don’t think I ever had clothes that had the wrinkles ironed out before.  Pa said that since he had to work, Miss Borgstrom would take me to school and introduce me to the teacher.

 

“Mrs. Miller said you may have a bath in the kitchen tonight so you’ll be all clean for school,” he added.

 

“C-Could you cut my hair, Pa, so it don’t look curly?  Please?” I asked.  Pa smiled and nodded his head.  After he cut my hair short, I took my bath and Pa washed my hair.  I squeezed my eyes shut as tight as I could, but soap still got in ‘em and made ‘em smart somethin’ fierce.  Pa wrapped me up in one of our towels and carried me up to our room so I could put on my nightshirt.  He rubbed my head with the towel and since my hair was shorter, it dried pretty quick.  I was so excited about goin’ to school that I didn’t think I’d sleep at all, but I guess I did.

 

I dressed as fast as I could in the clothes Miss Borgstrom had ironed.  I guess I dressed too fast ‘cause I got the buttons wrong and had to redo ‘em.  My hair is easier to brush when it’s short and it don’t get so tangled and Pa said I did a good job with it.  I was so excited it was hard to eat breakfast but I knew better than to waste food so I made myself eat all my oatmeal and drink all my milk.  Miss Borgstrom came while I was drinking my milk and she laughed and said I had a milk mustache and then wiped it off.

 

I got my primer and my slate and chalk and then Miss Borgstrom and me walked to the schoolhouse.  She held my hand just like she knew I was kinda scared and she smiled at me.  The schoolhouse was made out of logs and it was smaller than Mrs. Miller’s house.  I could see children outside playing in the schoolyard.  They was mostly older ‘n’ me but I saw one boy and a couple of girls who looked about the same age as me.  They all stared at Miss Borgstrom and me as we went inside.  It was kinda dark ‘cause there was only a couple of windows to let in light.  Someone had built some shelves that were attached to the two side walls and there were benches along the shelves.  At the front of the room was a plank table and chair and in the back there was a stove and a wood box.   There was a man writing at a chalkboard at the front, and he turned around when he heard us come in.  At first he looked awful strict but then he smiled at Miss Borgstrom.

 

“Yes, Miss Borgstrom, how may I help you?” he asked politely.

 

“I have brought you a new pupil, Mr. Evans.  This is Adam Cartwright.”

 

“Hello, sir,” I said as politely as I could.

 

“Hello, Adam,” he said smiling at me.  “How old are you?”

 

“I’m five,” I said proudly.

 

“He’s a little too young for school,” Mr. Evans told Miss Borgstrom and I felt really sad.  I had wanted to go to school so badly.

 

Miss Borgstrom squeezed my hand and said, “He can already read and write and do simple sums, Mr. Evans.”

 

Mr. Evans looked like he didn’t believe Miss Borgstrom.  He looked at me and said, “I see you have your primer, Adam.  Could you read me Lesson 4?”

 

Miss Borgstrom held my slate and chalk for me and I opened up the primer and read, “’A man and a lad.  The man sat; the lad ran.  The man has a hat.  The lad has a cap.’”

 

Mr. Evans eyebrows went up and he said, “You read that very well, Adam.  Has someone been teaching you to read?”

 

I nodded and added, “My pa.  He taught me my numbers and now he’s teaching me how to add.”

 

“I see.  Tell me, Adam, what was the last lesson you finished in your primer?’

 

“Lesson 40.  It was about a bad boy named Ned who tries to kill birds with rocks,” I replied.  Mr. Evans had a funny look on his face then and he turned to Miss Borgstrom.

 

“Yes, a boy this bright should be in school.  The problem is that he is ahead of the other children closest to him in age.”  He turned to me again and smiled.  “Adam, I hope you don’t mind reading some of the lessons again.  I am going to have you sit by Timmy Sloan.  He is seven years old.   You and Timmy, Betsy Stone, and Opal Dogett are the youngest children in the school so the four of you study the same lessons and recite together.  You all sit right up at the front by me.  Did you bring a dinner-pail?”

 

I didn’t have a dinner-pail and I knew we didn’t have the money to buy one so I shook my head.  But Miss Borgstrom spoke right up.  “He forgot it, but I will bring it here before dinnertime.”  She turned to me then and said, “Goodbye, Adam.  Be a good boy and mind Mr. Evans.”

 

As she left, Mr. Evans said, “Wait here, Adam,” and then he rang a bell.  All the children I had seen playing in the yard came walking in and took their seats.  I counted when they came in and there was fifteen.  Some of them was really big.  Three of the boys looked as tall as the teacher and one of ‘em was almost as tall as Pa.  Two of the girls had long skirts and they wore their hair pinned on top of their heads like Miss Borgstrom instead of in pigtails.  The girls sat on one side of the room on the benches and the boys sat on the other. The three smallest children came up to the front where Mr. Evans and I stood.  The two girls sat on the girls’ side and the boy, who I guessed must be Timmy Sloan, came and sat by where I was standing.  He was a little taller ‘n’ me and he had brown hair that hung down in his eyes and over his shirt collar and I could see one of his front teeth was missin’ and a new one was grown’ in.

 

“Class,” Mr. Evans said.  “We have a new pupil.  His name is Adam Cartwright and he will be in the primer class.  Timmy, you and Adam will share a bench.”  The boy named Timmy looked at me, but he didn’t say anything.  “Your arithmetic problems are on the board, and I will now hear the grammar class recite.” 

 

I found out the grammar class was the biggest boys and girls in the school.  After they recited, then Mr. Evans called up the next class and then it was time for recess.  I didn’t know what that meant but I followed the other children outside.  All the boys went to one side of the yard and all the girls on another, ‘cept for the grammar class.  Those boys and girls stayed together and talked.  I could see the girls was playing ring-a-round-a-rosy and I knew how to play that.  But one of the bigger boys said, “Let’s play tag.”  Timmy spoke up and said, “Adam’s it!”  They all ran away from me but I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. 

 

“Come on, chase us,” one of the bigger boys called.  “Ain’t ya never played tag before?”

 

I ran as fast as I could but I could never catch ‘em.  They’d let me almost tag ‘em, but then they’d laugh and run away.  I was hot and my chest hurt and I had to gasp for breath.  I could feel my eyes begin to burn but I blinked real fast.  I wasn’t gonna cry like a baby in front of these boys!  I wasn’t!  Suddenly the big boy, the one almost as big as Pa, ran over to me.  “Tag me, Adam,” he said, “and then run away as fast as you can.”

 

I did and then he tagged one of the other boys and when he started to run after me, the big boy picked me up and ran with me.  Nobody could tag me as long as I was with him.  It was fun when he picked me up and ran with me. 

 

After a while Mr. Evans came to the door and rang the bell so the big boy sat me down and we all went back inside and sat down.  Mr. Evans had the primer class recite next.  I didn’t miss any of my sums and neither did the little girl named Opal.  The girl named Betsy missed one and Timmy missed three.  Mr. Evans said they must stay inside during afternoon recess and do their sums correctly.  Then Mr. Evans gave us words to spell.  I didn’t miss any and neither did Opal and Betsy, but Timmy missed a word.  When we finished spelling, Mr. Evans had us sit down and practice penmanship while he had the grammar class come to the chalkboard and do something called diagramming sentences.  While I was practicing my penmanship, Miss Borgstrom came to the schoolhouse.  She walked right up to me with a brand-new shiny dinner-pail in her hand.  “Here’s your dinner-pail, Adam,” she whispered.  “You bring it to me at the store after school is out, all right?” and I nodded.  She smiled at Mr. Evans and then she left.

 

After we finished our penmanship and the grammar class finished diagramming, Mr. Evans said it was time for dinner.  I opened my new dinner-pail and there was bread-and-butter, a piece of sausage and a cherry turnover. After we finished eating, everyone went outside. 

 

A red-haired boy with freckles named Frank said, “Let’s play Needle’s Eye.  I choose Ted and Jimmy for my team.”

 

“That’s not fair,” a skinny boy named Tommy said and he sounded cross.  “That puts both the little boys on my team.”  The other three boys just laughed so Tommy turned to me and said, “All right, Adam.  You and Timmy are on my team.”

 

“I don’t know how to play,” I said nervously.

 

“It’s easy.  Just hold on to my hand,” Tommy replied.  Then he called, “Sim, Jake, Pete!  You wanna play Needle’s Eye?”

 

The three bigger boys walked over.  “Sure we’ll play,” the big boy named Sim who’d played tag with me said.  “I think to even things out, Pete and I will play on the team with the little boys and Jake’ll play on the other.”

 

“That’s not fair!” Frank whined.  “Your team’ll have more people.”

 

“Timmy and Adam together only add up to one of us,” Sim said.  “You figured you’d stacked the deck by puttin’ the two littlest boys on one team.  Quit your bellyachin’ and let’s play.  Your side can go first.”  Sim smiled at me and took one of my hands and one of Timmy’s. Pete took my other hand and one of Tommy’s.  “Hold on tight, Adam,” Sim said with a wink.  I winked back and that made him laugh.

 

The other team chanted:

"The needle's eye that doth supply
The thread that runs so true;
I stump my toe, and down I go,
All for the want of you."

 

When they finished, Frank ran over right between Pete and Tommy, but they held on tight and Frank couldn’t get through.  Now it was our turn and we chanted the rhyme and Pete ran right through Frank and Ted.  Timmy tried next but he couldn’t get through.  Then it was the other team’s turn and Jake, who was the biggest boy on the other team, ran right for me and Tommy.  We tried to hold on but he ran so fast that he broke through.  Next Ted tried to run between Tommy and me, but this time we held on and he couldn’t get through.

 

“You run this time, Adam,” Sim said.  “Run just as fast as you can between Ted and Frank.”  As I ran I saw they moved their hands so they were as high as my neck, so when I got there, I jumped on their hands, and when I came down, it knocked the wind out of me for a second, but they’d let go.”

 

“Good job, Adam,” Sim called and Pete slapped me on the back.  Just then Mr. Evans rang the bell so dinnertime was over and we won!

 

The primer class read aloud in the afternoon but mostly we had to be quiet and listen to the other classes recite.  We had another recess in the afternoon and all the boys played Tug-of-War.  This time my team lost, but it was fun anyway.  School was a lot better than bein’ by myself all day. 

 

When Mr. Evans dismissed us, I took my shiny new dinner-pail and walked by myself to Miss Borgstrom’s store.  She was waiting on a customer so I stood as quietly as I could.  (Pa had taught me that children are to be seen and not heard.)  After the customer left, Miss Borgstrom turned to me with a big happy smile and asked, “So how was your first day of school, Adam?”

 

“It was wonderful, Miss Borgstrom.  I played tag, and Needle’s Eye and Tug-of-War.  And I got all my sums right and I didn’t miss any spelling words either.”

 

“That’s splendid, Adam.  And why don’t you call me Miss Inger, all right?”

 

“Yes, Miss Inger.  And thank you for bringing me dinner.  Here’s your dinner-pail.”

 

“No, it’s yours.  I’ll tell your father that he can pay for it in installments.”  I guess she must have seen how happy I was to have the bright, shiny dinner-pail because she smiled at me and made me feel all warm and happy inside.  “Wait, Adam.  Why don’t you leave the dinner-pail with me and I could fix you dinner and then you could stop by here for it every morning on the way to school.  Would you like that?”

 

“Oh, yes, Miss Borgstrom.  I mean, yes, Miss Inger,” I said with a grin.  Just then a woman walked into the store so I smiled at Miss Inger and went to Mrs. Miller’s.  It wasn’t so bad being by myself for a little while until Pa got home.  While he washed up for supper I told him all about my day at school.”

 

“You really enjoyed playing with the other boys, didn’t you, son?” Pa asked, and he ruffled my hair.

 

“Yeah, Pa.  It was lots of fun.  Mr. Evans said Opal and me are ready to learn how to subtract.  Timmy and Betsy aren’t though.  Timmy makes lots of mistakes with his sums, Pa, but he’s older ‘n’ me.”

 

“Adam, some people are just naturally better with numbers than others.  I don’t want you to get a swelled head just because you are better than Timmy.”

 

“What’s a swelled head?” I asked

 

“It means thinking that you’re better than someone else,” Pa said very seriously.

 

“I don’t think that, honest, Pa.  Timmy can run lots faster than me.  Besides, his pa didn’t teach him his numbers.  He didn’t learn ‘em until he started school this year.  He told me that he’ll only go to school until he learns how to multiply and divide.  Then his father says he’s gonna stay home and work on their farm.  When we get to Oregon and get our farm, will I have to stop school?”

 

Illinois is a lot more settled that Oregon is.  There may not be a school for you to attend there, but I’ll teach you in the evenings when our work is done.  That’s a promise, Adam.”  Pa smiled then.  “I don’t know about you but I’m hungry, so let’s go see what Mrs. Miller has fixed for supper.”

 

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

 

Every school day I stopped at Miss Inger’s store and she gave me my dinner-pail with the dinner she’d fixed for me.  I’d always have bread ‘n’ butter but there’d be a surprise like a slice of dried apple pie or gingersnaps or sugar cookies.  Sometimes her brother Gunnar would be there when I came to pick it up.  He was a really big man, even taller than Pa.  He had eyes as blue as the sky but his weren’t happy eyes like Miss Inger’s, and he always frowned at me.  One time he asked Miss Inger why she was fixin’ things for the brat and her face got red and she told her brother to hush.  I didn’t know that word brat meant so I waited until that night to ask Pa.

 

“Where did you hear that word?” Pas asked and he looked sad and mad at the same time, so I decided I wouldn’t tell him where.

 

“I just heard someone say it.  Is it a bad word, Pa?  I didn’t know.”

 

“It’s not a very nice word, and I don’t want you repeating it,” Pa said very seriously so I nodded to show I understood.  “Are you happy here?” Pa asked suddenly.

 

“I like school,” I replied.  “Mr. Evans said I’m doin’ real well with my subtraction problems.  I wanted to learn the script alphabet, but he says I need to wait until I’m older and to practice my printing.  But Timmy and Opal and Betsy have to wait, too.  I’ve been helpin’ Timmy so he don’t make mistakes with his sums and have to miss recess.”

 

“You aren’t doing his work for him, are you/” Pa asked and looked real serious.

 

“No, that would be cheatin’.  But when I see him make a mistake I tell him and then he figures it out for himself.  Mr. Evans said it was all right if I do that.  I like playin’ with Timmy at recess.  There’s a see-saw in the schoolyard and sometimes we play on that, or we play catch with my cloth ball.”

 

“Don’t you and Timmy play with the other boys?”

 

“Sometimes, but they’re all bigger than us and sometimes they don’t wanna play with us.  Sim and Pete and Jake lots of times just talk with the big girls.  Why do they wanna talk with girls, Pa?”

 

Pa just smiled at me and said, “You’ll understand in a few years, son.  Trust me.”

 

“But why can’t I understand now, Pa?”

 

“You just can’t.  It’s something only big boys and men understand.”  I guess he saw that I didn’t like his answer because he said sternly, “Don’t pout, Adam.  Besides, I have some good news for you.”

 

“What?” I asked eagerly.

 

“Miss Inger has asked us to come on a picnic after church on Sunday.  She said there’s a trout stream near where we’re going to have a picnic so you can bring your fishing pole.”

 

“Hurrah!”  I shouted because I loved to fish, and I was good at it.  “I’ll catch us trout for supper, Pa.  You’ll see.”

 

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

 

Whenever we stayed in a town we always went to church.  It was hard to sit still while the preacher talked, but I liked the singing.  (Miss Inger said I had a pretty voice.)  Miss Inger’s brother didn’t go to church, so we’d shared a pew with her every Sunday since we’d been in town and I always sat between her and Pa.  After church that Sunday, Pa and I changed clothes.  (Pa had a frock coat and a white shirt he saved for church, but I just wore my cleanest clothes to church and tomorrow I’d wear them to school.)  I put on my old breeches and an old calico shirt.  (They were really too small, but I knew Pa wouldn’t care if I got ‘em dirty.)

 

We had a nice picnic with ham sandwiches, coleslaw, baked beans and gingersnaps for dessert.  When we finished eatin’, I got my fishin’ pole and picked a good spot.  I thought maybe Pa and Miss Inger were gonna fish, too, but they didn’t.  I caught four trout and Pa cleaned ‘em and Miss Inger fixed ‘em for our supper.  She saved one for her brother, but he didn’t eat with us.  Pa was real happy that night; I wished he could be happy like that all the time.

 

 

The next day when school was over, I went to the store to leave my dinner-pail just like I always did, and since there weren’t any customers, I told Miss Inger all about what I learned in school that day.  She always listened to me just like Pa and I liked tellin’ her.  When I was done, Miss Inger gave me a hug and then I walked to Mrs. Miller’s house.  I was surprised to see Molly hitched to our wagon in front of the house.  I ran up the stairs to our room.  The door was open and I could see Pa was throwing our clothes in our carpetbag and I knew that meant we was leavin’.  I had to blink real hard to not cry ‘cause I’d been real happy here.  Miss Inger was so nice and I was gonna miss goin’ to school and playin’ with Timmy.  Before Pa saw me I turned around and ran down the stairs and back to the General Store. 

 

“Miss Inger!  Miss Inger, we’re leavin’!  I don’t wanna go.  I wanna stay here with you,” and I threw my arms around her waist and hugged her as tight as I could.

 

“Why do you think you’re leaving, Adam?” she asked, putting her arm around my shoulders and hugging me back.

 

“Cause Molly’s hitched to the wagon and Pa’s puttin’ our clothes in our carpetbag.  Could you ask him to stay?  Please, Miss Inger.’

 

“I’ll go talk with your father, Adam.”  She kissed my forehead and then smiled at me.  “It will be all right, darling.  You’ll see.

 

 

I walked back to Mrs. Miller’s house holding onto Miss Inger’s hand.  “You wait down here while I talk with your father,” she said and squeezed my hand.  I wanted to know what was happening so I crept up the stairs to our room.  I could hear Pa and Miss Inger talkin’ and they sounded angry.  I felt my stomach begin to hurt as I listened to them.  Just when I got to the door, Miss Inger ran out.  I could tell she was cryin’ and she didn’t even see me.

 

“Pa, why did she run away?”

 

Pa looked funny and he said, “I don’t know, son.”  He put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed it and I blinked real fast but I could feel two big tears sliding down my cheeks.  Suddenly Pa said, “No, I do know,” and he ran down the stairs.

 

I stood on the upstairs verandah and I saw Pa talkin’ with Miss Inger.  I couldn’t hear what they said, but all of a sudden Pa kissed her, and then he picked her up and twirled her around.  They saw me and Pa called, “Come here, Adam!”

 

I ran down and Pa picked me up and twirled me around just like he had Miss Inger.  “We’re not leaving, Adam.  I’m going to work for Miss Inger in the store and—“  He was gonna say more but I saw Miss Inger shake her head just a little.  “And so you can keep going to school here.  You’ll like that, won’t you?”

 

“I sure will, Pa!” and I smiled at them both.

 

“Now, you are both invited to have supper with me and Gunnar,” Miss Inger said with a happy smile.  “We need to get to know each other better.”

 

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

 

Mr. Borgstrom wasn’t there for supper; I was kinda glad ‘cause I still didn’t think he liked me and Pa much.  Miss Inger was sad that he wasn’t there, though, and I felt bad for her. I liked her house; it was friendly just like her.  There was a pretty hooked rug in front of the fireplace in the parlor and there was a rocking chair and a sofa.  In the corner by the fireplace was a kitchen dresser and cupboard with all her pretty dishes. We ate supper at a table with a pretty blue-checked tablecloth and there was a window with lace curtains by the table.  After we ate, we sat in the parlor.  Miss Inger sat by Pa on the sofa and I sat on Pa’s lap.  “Would you tell us a story, Ben?” she asked.

 

“Of course.  What sort of a story,” he asked with a smile.

 

“Since Adam and I never had a chance to know his mother, I think we’d both like a story about her,” Miss Inger said quietly.

 

I held my breath, afraid Pa’s face would get that sad, faraway look, but it didn’t.  “Yes,” he said slowly, “I guess it is time I talked to Adam about his mother.”  He smiled at me and I smiled back.  I’d wanted to hear about my mother for such a long time, and now I would!  “The first time I met your mother, Adam, she was only sixteen.  She had curly black hair, just like yours, and when she smiled, she had a dimple like yours.”

 

“Did she smile a lot?  Like Miss Inger?” I asked.

 

“Yes, she did.  I think she would like Miss Inger very much.  She liked everyone she ever met.  Just like Miss Inger,” and Pa smiled at her in a way I never saw him smile before.  Then he continued, “Your Grandfather Stoddard was the one who introduced us.  I’d just finished my first voyage with him on the Wanderer, serving as second officer.  When we docked at Boston his daughter, Elizabeth, was there to greet the Captain, and he invited me to have supper with them.  Your mother was a good cook just like Miss Inger and after we finished eating, the Captain suggested that your mother and I go for a walk at Boston Common.”  Pa smiled and he said, “I was so nervous being with a pretty girl that I didn’t know what to say, but your mother seemed to realize how anxious I was.  She told me she liked to read and asked if I did.”

 

“She liked to read just like me,” I said and it made me feel happy to know that.

 

“Yes, I think you get your love of reading from your mother,” Pa replied.  “Anyway, I replied that I did enjoy reading, but I hadn’t read too many books.  I told her that my favorite was a long poem titled, “Paradise Lost.”

 

“Would I like it, Pa?”

 

“I think you might when you’re older.  It’s all about Adam and Eve in the Bible.”  Pa stopped and smiled at me.  “You know, it was when we were reading that poem one day that your mother decided to name you Adam.”

 

“Really?  It was my mother that picked my name?” and he nodded while Miss Inger smiled at us.

 

“She just knew you were going to be a boy.  When you were born, she said you looked like the cherubs on her music box.”  Pa’s face got serious.  “Adam, I want you to know that your mother loved you from the moment she saw you.  No, she loved you from the moment she knew that we were going to have a baby.”

 

“How could she love me when she didn’t even know me?” I asked.  I wanted to believe what Pa said, but I was afraid to.

 

Miss Inger touched my cheek softly and said, “I know your father is telling the truth, Adam. Mothers love their babies even before they are born.  I’m sure your mother loved you and was eager for you to be born so she could hold you in her arms.”

 

“Did she hold me, Pa?” I asked.

 

Pa’s face had a funny look but he said, “Of course.  All mothers hold their babies.”  I saw he looked at Miss Inger and for just a moment they both looked sad.  I started to ask why, but something told me not to.  Pa said, “I held you right after you were born.  You were so tiny I was afraid I’d accidentally hurt you.  You looked at me and you seemed to know I was your pa.”

 

“What did my mother like besides reading?” I asked hesitantly.

 

“She was better at working with numbers than I am.  I know the reason you are so good in arithmetic is because she was.”

 

“Did she like to play games?”

 

“I’m sure she did, but little girls play different games than little boys,” and I nodded.  “She liked to sew and to embroider.  She made all the gowns you wore when you were a baby.”

 

I wrinkled my nose at that and Pa and Miss Inger laughed.  “Sewing is something little girls enjoy,” Miss Inger said.  “I like to sew as well.  You know, Adam, I think if your mother and I had met, we would be friends.  I know she must have been a wonderful woman because she has such a wonderful little boy,” and she smiled at me and at Pa.

 

“A wonderful little boy who needs to get ready for bed,” Pa said with a smile.  “Son, why don’t you wait for me on the porch while I say goodnight to Miss Inger, and then we’ll walk home.”  I nodded but I was curious why he wanted me to wait on the porch. 

 

I started to walk to the door when Miss Inger said, “Wait, Adam.  I want to give you a goodnight kiss.”  She hugged me and kissed my cheek.  It felt real good and I asked cautiously, “Miss Inger, may I give you a goodnight kiss?”

 

“You certainly may,” she replied with another happy smile.  After I kissed her I went and stood on the porch but I peeked inside through the curtain.  Pa kissed Miss Inger, too, but he didn’t kiss her cheek.  He kissed her mouth.  I wanted to ask him about that, but I was afraid he’d be angry that I peeked in the window.

 

 

Pa was so happy he whistled on the way home.  After I put on my nightshirt, he picked me up and sat me on his lap.  “Adam, you like Miss Inger, don’t you?”

 

“I sure do.  She’s a real nice lady.”

 

Pa smiled at me then.  “Would you like for Miss Inger to be your new mama?”

 

“Can she, Pa?  Can she really be my new mama?”

 

“Yes, she can,” Pa said and he hugged me.  “Miss Inger and I are going to get married, and when we do, then she’ll be your new mama.”

 

“Oh, Pa!” I said and threw my arms around his neck and hugged him.

 

“Adam, don’t squeeze so tight.  You’re choking me,” Pa said with a laugh.  “We’re going to wait a couple of months.  Miss Inger wants us to get to know her brother better.  He’ll be your uncle when we marry, your Uncle Gunnar.”

 

“Like Uncle John?”

 

“That’s right.  Like Uncle John.  Now young man, it’s time you were in bed.

 

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

 

Just about every evening we would eat supper at Miss Inger’s house.  Sometimes Uncle Gunnar was there too.  He didn’t look so cross with me anymore and sometimes he’d even play jackstraws with me, but I was afraid to call him Uncle Gunnar until he told me I could.  Pa was so happy.  While me and Uncle Gunnar played, he and Miss Inger would sit on the sofa and talk.  Pa would hold her hand and he’d smile at her and she’d smile back.  It made me feel so good inside.

 

 

 

One evening a few weeks later while I was reading my primer and Miss Inger was cooking supper, I head Pa tell her that Mr. Borgstrom had sold the store.  Pa looked angry like he used to but Miss Inger laughed.

 

“Inger, you don’t seem to understand.  I said Gunnar sold the store.  How can you find that funny?” Pa asked and he sounded puzzled.

 

“Oh, Ben,” Miss Inger said as she began to set the table, “don’t you see?  In a way it is.  Ever since we decided to get married, I have been trying to get up the courage to do as Gunnar wanted and sell the store.  Ben, now we can go west.  We can find that dream of yours.  We can build what you always wanted.”

 

I felt a little sad when she said that ‘cause I was gonna miss Timmy but since Miss Inger was gonna be my new mama and come with us, I knew everything would be okay.  Pa told her that she shouldn’t do it for him but Miss Inger said that she wanted to do it.

 

“Inger,” Pa said, “I know how you feel about Gunnar.”

 

“Ben,” Miss Inger told him, “I love you.  You are my life now.  It is time for Gunnar to make his own way.  Oh, don’t you see, my love?  This is the way it should be.”  Pa put his arms around her and kissed her mouth.  I kept forgetting to ask why he kissed her that way.  Just then there was a knock at the door.  Pa let go of Miss Inger and she went to answer the door.

 

When she opened the door, I could see a little man with white hair carrying a black leather bag.  “Oh, doctor, come in,” Miss Inger said.  The doctor said that he had Miss Inger’s brother and he was hurt.  “Bring him in the bedroom quickly,” said Miss Inger, and I could tell that she was scared.

 

Two men carried Uncle Gunnar inside to his bedroom and I sat up so I could see better.  Uncle Gunnar looked like he'd been in a fight: he had a big bruise on his jaw and his clothes were mussed.  His eyes were closed like he was asleep, but I didn’t think he was or he’d have woke up when they carried him.  Miss Inger followed the men.  When they came out, Pa asked one man how badly Uncle Gunnar was hurt and he replied that Pa should know.  Miss Inger talked with the doctor and then he left saying he’d be back later.  Miss Inger and Pa moved over by the table and they talked so I couldn’t overhear but I could see their faces and so I knew they were both very upset.  Miss Inger started crying and then she ran into her brother’s room.  Pa started to go after her, but then he turned around and walked over to me instead.

 

“Adam, you lie down for a little while.  Stay here with Miss Inger.” He picked me up so I could lie on the sofa and spread the coverlet over me.  He looked so sad and so angry, like he used to look before we met Miss Inger.

 

“Pa,” I asked, “what happened to Uncle Gunnar?”

 

“I don’t know, son,” he replied.  “I’m gonna find out.”  He smoothed my hair back and then he left.

 

I lay on the sofa and I could feel my stomach tightening into a knot.  After a little bit Miss Inger came out of the bedroom and just as she did, someone knocked.  She smiled at me as she walked over to the door to answer the knock.  When she opened the door, I could see a tall man wearing a blue uniform and he told Miss Inger good evening.

 

“Yes, Constable?” Miss Inger said.

 

The constable said that Mr. McWhorter had told him what happened to Uncle Gunnar and asked how he was.  Miss Inger said that she didn’t know yet.  Then the constable said, “I’m sorry to be bothering you but I thought the sooner you preferred charges the sooner I could arrest that man.  Cartwright is his name, isn’t it?”

 

“Yes, that is his name,” Miss Inger said quietly and then she looked at me.  “But there will be no charges.”

 

“No charges?” the constable said sounding very surprised.  “But if your brother dies, this man Cartwright is a murderer, and if Gunnar recovers, he should be punished anyway.”

 

Miss Inger only repeated, “I say there will be no charges.”

 

“Ma’am, you’re making a mistake.  This Cartwright fella should be in jail.” When he said that, the knot in my stomach got tighter and tighter and I was really scared.  Would he put Pa in jail?   But Miss Inger only said goodnight and closed the door.

 

“Miss Inger?” I asked, for I knew instinctively that she would tell me the truth.

 

“Yes, Adam?” and she walked over to me.

 

“Miss Inger, that man—he said my pa should be in jail,” and I knew she could hear how scared I was because she knelt down beside me and patted my shoulder.  “Is my pa bad?”

 

“Poor darling,” she said and she touched my cheek real softly.  “No, he is not bad.  He may get angry and do a bad thing, but no, Adam, he is not bad.”

 

 

 

We waited silently for Pa to come back.  Miss Inger sat in the rocking chair by me and rocked and I think I must have fallen asleep.  When I woke up I was still lying on Miss Inger’s sofa and she was still rocking quietly beside me.

 

“Miss Inger?”

 

“Yes, Adam?”

 

“Is my pa coming to get me?”

 

“Yes, Adam, he will,” she said gently and smiled at me.  That made me brave enough to ask her, “Do you love my pa?”

 

“Yes, Adam, I do,” she replied but she looked so sad.  As sad as Pa used to look.

 

“Then why did you send him away?”

 

“Oh, Adam, it’s something I just can’t explain.  Go to sleep now, hmm?” and she patted my shoulder.

 

 

 

I guess I did fall asleep because the next thing I knew Pa was shaking me awake.  He had a big smile and so did Miss Inger.  She leaned down and kissed my cheek and said, “I’m not sending your father away, Adam.  We are going to be married and the three of us will be a family.”

 

“Really and truly?” I asked looking at each of their happy faces.

 

“Really and truly,” Pa said with a big happy smile.  “But right now, I need to get you to bed, young man.”  I was so sleepy that I didn’t even say anything when he picked me up and carried me.  I think I fell asleep because the next thing I knew it was morning and I was in my bed at Mrs. Miller’s house.

 

“Time to get up, son, or you’ll be late for school,” Pa said.  He was still smiling.  I had never seen Pa look so happy.  I knew the store wasn’t Miss Inger’s anymore, so I stopped by her house for my dinner.  She answered the door when I knocked and she was smiling, too. 

 

“Good morning, Adam, I have your dinner ready for you,” and she handed me my dinner-pail and then she kissed my cheek.  “I’m going to walk to school with you so everyone will know that I don’t blame your father for what happened to Uncle Gunnar.”  She held my hand as we walked to the school and before she left, she kissed my cheek.  I felt so happy that I was smiling just like Pa and Miss Inger.

 

“My pa said your pa beat up Mr. Borgstrom,” Timmy said when I walked over.  “I’m not supposed to play with you anymore,” he added unhappily.

 

“Yeah, that’s what I heard, too,” Frank sneered.

 

“Well, he didn’t; Uncle Gunnar said so.  Someone else did and tried to blame my pa,” I answered, for that was how Pa had explained it to me.

 

“I think Adam is telling the truth,” Sim said.  “If his father had beat up Mr. Borgstrom, then Miss Borgstrom wouldn’t be walking Adam to school, would she?”

 

“Naw, I guess not,” Frank mumbled.  “Sorry, Adam.  I’ll tell my folks that Mr. Borgstrom said your pa didn’t do it.”

 

“Me, too,” Timmy added and so did all the other boys.

 

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

 

After school, I went to Miss Inger’s house.  I told her about what we did at school while I ate the cookies she offered me, and she listened just like she always did.  I had finished and was drinking my glass of milk when we heard Uncle Gunnar calling for Miss Inger.

 

“You finish your milk, Adam, and I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she told me as she went into Uncle Gunnar’s room.  A few minutes later Miss Inger walked out with a big smile.  “Adam, Uncle Gunnar would like to talk with you.”

 

“Me?”  I still didn’t think Uncle Gunnar liked me very much.

 

“That’s right,” she answered with a big smile.  “Go on in.”

 

I was kinda scared when I walked in the room.  Uncle Gunnar had a big bandage on his head and his eyes looked funny.  One eye was almost all blue like Miss Inger’s and the other almost all black.  “Hello, Mr. Borgstrom,” I said quietly.

 

“Hello, little Adam.  You shouldn’t call me Mr. Borgstrom, you know; your father is gonna marry my sister and that makes me your uncle.  So you should call me Uncle Gunnar.”

 

“Okay, Uncle Gunnar,” I said trying to say it the way he did.  I’m not sure if I did but he smiled at me.

 

“So, little Adam, it gets lonely havin’ to stay in bed all day and I thought maybe you could come after school and visit me.  Tell me what you did in school.  If you don’t mind.”

 

“I don’t mind, Uncle Gunnar,” I said.  “I’m learning subtraction.  I didn’t miss a single problem today.  Mr. Evans said I’m doing such a good job that soon he’s gonna teach me how to carry and to borrow.”

 

Uncle Gunnar smiled.  “You like arithmetic just like my sister.  What else did you learn?”

 

“I learned how to spell blaze, fire, house and ring.  Do you want to hear me spell them?”

 

“Sure,” he said with a smile.  “Let’s hear.”

 

“Blaze: b-l-a-z-e.  Fire: f-i-r-e.  House: h-o-u-s-e. Ring: r-i-n-g.  We read in our primers but we’re only on Lesson 24 and when Pa was teaching me I was already on Lesson 40.  Mr. Evans asked me not to read ahead on my own so I don’t, but it’s not much fun reading lessons I already learned.”  I thought for a minute and then I said, “I learned a new game at dinnertime.  All the boys played Shinny.  Well, the big boys did,” I added wanting to be truthful.  “They said Timmy and me are too little so we just watched ‘em play.  I can tell you how to play if you wanna hear?”  He nodded so I explained.  “They played with tree branches that they use for sticks and a tin can that was the ball.  They try to hit the ball with the sticks so they can score a goal.  They seemed to hit each other more than they hit the ball though.”

 

“I think the big boys are right and you are too young for that game,” Uncle Gunnar said.  “Must be a game you and Timmy can play.”

 

“I’m gonna bring my cloth ball and we’re gonna play catch while the big boys play Shinny.”  I’d run out of things to say so I was quiet.  Then I had an idea.  “Uncle Gunnar, do you want to play Twenty Questions?”

 

“Sure, if you tell me how,” he said with a friendly grin.

 

Just then Pa opened the door.  “Adam, you don’t want to tire Mr. Borgstrom.”

 

“I told him he should call me Uncle Gunnar, Benjamin.”

 

Pa smiled.  “All right.  Adam, you don’t want to tire Uncle Gunnar.”

 

“I was just gonna teach him how to play Twenty Questions.  You wanna play too, Pa?  It’s more fun with more people.” 

 

Pa looked at Uncle Gunnar and then he looked at me.  “All right, young man.  We’ll play one game.  Uncle Gunnar and I will be the guessers.”  He turned to Uncle Gunnar.  “We try to guess the person, place or thing Adam is thinking of by asking questions that can be answered ‘yes’ or ‘no’.  We keep guessing until we discover the answer or twenty questions have been asked.  Adam here is a good player.”

 

It took eighteen questions before Pa guessed I was thinking of a donkey.  Pa said we needed to let Uncle Gunnar rest but before I left, I decided to ask the question I’d wanted to ask since I’d walked in the room.  “Uncle Gunnar, how come your eyes look funny?”

 

“That’s because my brain got knocked around inside my head.  Right now I don’t see so good.  I see two little Adams, not one.”  I giggled at the idea of his seeing two of me.  “Oh, you think it’s funny.  Just wait until it happens to you.”  He sounded cross, but I could tell he wasn’t really.  “The doctor says in a few days my eyes be back to normal.  Then we play checkers.”

 

“What’s checkers?” I asked.

 

“I show you, but not today.  I must be able to see only one of everything.”

 

Pa put his hand on my shoulder then saying, “Come along, Adam.”

 

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

 

Every day after school, I’d visit Uncle Gunnar and tell him about what I’d learned at school and we’d play Twenty Questions.  When his eyes stopped looking funny, he taught me to play checkers just like he promised.  At first he always won, but then I got better and I started to win sometimes.

 

“You’re one smart boy, little Adam,” he said winking at me and when I winked back, he laughed, a big loud laugh that made me laugh with him.

 

 

 

Not very long after the doctor said Uncle Gunnar didn’t have to stay in bed any more, Pa and Miss Inger told me that they were going to marry.  “I have made new clothes for you to wear, Adam,” Miss Inger said.  “See.”  And she held up a new shirt made of printed calico and a new pair of fawn-colored breeches.  I never had new clothes before—ones that somebody made just for me.  Except the ones Pa said my mama made for me to wear when I was a little baby.

 

“Thank you, Miss Inger,” I said, and I smiled at her.

 

“And I got you some new boots and socks,” Pa added.  “You’re going to be my best man and stand beside me and give me Miss Inger’s ring when the minister says it’s time.”  He smiled at me then and ruffled my hair.

 

 

 

The very next day I got dressed in my new clothes and Pa put on his good shirt and frock coat and we walked to the church.  Miss Inger and Uncle Gunnar got there just as we did.  She looked so pretty.  She had a new dress that was blue just like her eyes.  Uncle Gunnar was wearing a frock coat like Pa and he winked at me.

 

“So you’re the best man, eh, little Adam?”

 

“That’s right,” I said proudly.  Just then the minister opened the church doors so we all walked inside.  I listened real hard so I’d know when to give Pa Miss Inger’s ring.  (It was Pa’s ring that he used to wear on his little finger and it had his initials, BC, engraved on it.)  I gave it to Pa and I didn’t drop it and he and Miss Inger smiled at me.  Finally the minister said Pa and Miss Inger were man and wife and Pa kissed Miss Inger on the mouth.  (I never had remembered to ask him why he kissed her that way.)  Then we all went back to Miss Inger’s house and we ate a cake she had made.

 

When we finished eating, Uncle Gunnar said to me, “You and me, little Adam, are gonna stay at Mrs. Miller’s tonight.”

 

“Where is Pa going to stay?” I asked in surprise.

 

“I’m going to stay here with Miss Inger tonight,” Pa said.  “You know, Adam, Miss Inger is your mama now.  Do you think you could call her mama instead of Miss Inger?”

 

“My mama in heaven, she won’t mind if I call Miss Inger mama?”

 

“No, Adam,” Pa said with a big smile.  “I promise you that your mama in heaven is very happy that you have Miss Inger to be your new mama.”

 

“And I love you, Adam, just like your mama in heaven.  I’m going to give you all the hugs and kisses that she would if she were here with you,” Miss Inger said softly and put her arms around me.  I almost said that big boys that are five don’t want hugs and kisses, but Miss Inger’s hug felt so good that I didn’t.  She was softer than Pa and her face wasn’t scratchy, and she smelled good in a different way.  She kissed my cheek so I kissed hers and hugged her back as hard as I could.  When she let me go, I saw she and Pa were crying and I was scared I’d done something wrong.  I guess Pa could see I was scared ‘cause he smiled while he was crying and hunkered down so we was eye-to-eye.

 

“These are tears of joy, Adam. Your mama and I are just so happy that we’re going to be a family.”

 

I guess I’ll never understand grownups.

 

 

 

References:

For information about 19th century American schools I used Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Farmer Boy, On the Banks of Plum Creek, Little Town on the Prairie and the following Web site:

 

http://www.geocities.com/victorianlace12/school.html

 

 

For information about games and toys in 19th century America I used the following Web sites:

 

http://tsoldthings.com/toys.htm

http://www.geocities.com/Heartland/Woods/3501/19th.htm

http://www.geocities.com/victorianlace12/games.html

 

I used Fashion in Costume: 1200-1980 by Joan Nunn as aid in describing clothing. 

 

 

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