ARJ woke with a start. Mum stood, hands on her hips, looking at the floor near the door. “Arthur, you’ve tracked mud into the house!” She didn’t sound happy. Dad strode across the room to the spot by the door where his boots stood to see what Mum was talking about.
Dad let out a sigh. “There’s mud all over my boots!” He exclaimed. “I know I wouldn’t have walked in like that.”
“Well, I don’t know who else would have been wearing them! See? It’s by the door, also.” Mum pointed out. “Kindly watch what you bring in with you!”
Dad nodded “I beg your forgiveness, Anna...” His voice trailed off and then he spoke again.
“I met the Brown’s on the road yesterday when I went out to check the south fields. They live in the next mile north.” He said, changing the subject. “A nice family who moved here just before us, about September.”
“Oh?”
“I believe it might have been Mr. Brown who paid the sheriff a visit the day after the mob was here. He never said as much… but I got the feeling…” Dad looked at Mum who was busy getting rid of the mud. “They have a little boy about the same age as John William. I believe another child soon to be here, also.” Arthur looked at Anna. “I think you and Mrs. Brown should meet.”
“It would be nice to get to know another woman a little better…” Mum said, as she got the rest of the mud from the floor. “Maybe the next warm day after the mud on the road dries up, we should pay them a visit.”
“After breakfast,” Dad told Mum, “I’m going to sit down and write a letter to William and Albert. I think they need to know what’s happening just in case things don’t go as well as we hope. I can take it to the post office today and see if I can get some more questions answered about the planting season while I’m in town.”
“It’s probably wise to let your brothers know, although I’m praying everything will go well when you stand in front of the judge.” ARJ’s ears perked up at the topic. Slipping out of bed, he went to Dad, waiting until there was a lull in the conversation. “Dad?” he said, “I’d like to go to court with you.” His father grasped his shoulder and smiled down at him. “Please?” ARJ continued, knowing he shouldn’t beg.
“That’s going to take some thought, son. I’m not sure you’d understand the issues being spoken of in a courtroom. You would probably be very bored.”
“Please think about it. I’m nearly eight-years-old.”
Dad smiled again. “You are growing up swiftly.” He said, as he stepped out onto the porch to get his boots.
After breakfast, Dad sat at the table in the morning light penning a letter to his brothers, Uncle Albert, and Uncle William. ARJ sat with him but stayed as quiet as possible, watching his dad’s face as he wrote. The words must have been serious because Dad’s eyes would narrow, then his mouth would stretch tight as if he had no lips. He sucked in his breath sharply at one point and several lines later, released the air as he signed his name.
“Where do Uncle Albert and Uncle William live?” He asked his father when he was finished.
“They live in a place called Denver, Colorado right now.”
“Is that in America?”
Dad stood and reached for a blue book that stood on a shelf on the wall. He thumbed through the pages until he found a map of North America. Sliding the book in front of ARJ, Dad pointed at a small x he had made near the center of America.
“This is where we are.” ARJ stared at the tiny x. “And this is where your uncles, aunts and cousins live.” He pointed to a second x near some squiggly lines.
“What are all these lines that they live by?” ARJ pointed.
Dad picked the book up and studied the map closely. “Those are the Rocky Mountains.”
ARJ sat and stared at the map for a long time as Dad sealed the envelope and got ready to leave for town. “Where is the Isle of Wight?” He finally asked.
“It’s on another page.” Dad said, leafing through the book until he found the right one. “Right there.” He said, pointing to a tiny green spot surrounded by blue under a large green island Dad said was England.
‘It looks so small and far away… and on a different page.’ Arthur thought to himself.
That day, after Dad left for town, ARJ followed his mother around, trying to help. He stayed busy by helping her feed the chickens and gather eggs, all while making sure Buddy learned his place around the farm.
“You’re finally home!” Mum said as Dad came through the door late that afternoon. “We thought we might have to start tea without you!”
Dad pulled his hat off and hung it on a hook. He joined the boys already waiting at the table. ARJ smiled at his dad, but he noticed that Dad’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes when he responded.
“What’s wrong, Dad?” John William asked as he twisted in his chair.
Dad reached over and rubbed JW’s hair with his hand. “Everything’s fine, son. I just have much to ponder.”
Mum poured their tea, retrieved a fussing Eva Anna from the crate, and sat down. Dad reached in his pocket and pulled out a letter.
“When I stopped to post the letter to Albert and William, Mr. Kellogg had something for you in return.” He handed a white envelope to Mum, whose eyes brightened as she saw the handwriting.
“She must have finally gotten my letter! It takes an incredibly long time for a letter to travel across the ocean!” She smiled at Dad. Dad nodded and sipped his tea. Mum turned the envelope over in her hands and then ran her thumb under the flap. Dad reached over and turned the knob on the kerosene lamp, further illuminating the area around the table. Mum began to protest the waste of fuel but changed her mind and smiled at Dad. She then looked back at the letter in her hand.
ARJ wondered if they would ever get to see inside the envelope.
“Go ahead boys, finish your tea.” She reminded them as she pulled sheets of folded stationery from inside and flattened the creases with her fingers. “Her eyes scanned the script on the crisp paper. The others watched as her eyes strode back and forth across the page.
“Mum, is it from Grandma Jarman?” ARJ asked, “What does she write?” Mum pulled the back page away from the other two, glanced at it, and placed it on the table. It was covered with small, penciled dots marching along in even rows, forming an intricate pattern. ARJ recognized it immediately.
“At least Grandma can still share lace patterns with you.” Mum looked from the letter to her son and smiled.
“Yes, she can do that.” She looked back at the letter, still smiling, and started to read aloud.
My Dear Anna,
I was so pleased to get your letter this week, dated 21 October. It appears you
and Arthur have decided on a location now, so it will be easier to write to
you. Everything is fine here. We had a winter storm come off the sea and hit
our little island with much fury last week. It left beautiful, lacy patterns on
the trees, but I am even now ready for the snowdrops to bloom.”
Mum’s eyes stayed on the words for a moment, and then she turned the page over, continuing her reading.
Emily and Lucy send their love. (Your sisters miss you more than you can imagine.) Chatham House is bustling as usual. Mr. and Mrs. Webber keep the three of us, along with two other servant girls, remarkably busy during the holiday season. The manor is adorned in the most beautiful winter foliage, tied up with bows, and ready for the dinners and dances scheduled for later in December. Such a merry time of the year!”
Mum paused a little longer this time, as she slipped the last sheet to the top.
I pray everything is well with you. I happened upon Arthur’s parents in Ryde last week.”
They seem to be missing Arthur, his brothers William and Albert, and all their grandchildren dreadfully this Christmastide. I have to say, I understand their sentiment. Please greet Arthur for us and squeeze ARJ, John William, and little Eva Anna for their grandma. Affectionately, Mum
Mum turned the paper over and found a postscript on the back.
I’ve enclosed a lace pattern I designed in my spare time. I hope you enjoy it.
Mum put the letter down and picked up the dotted paper. For a minute, she was quiet, her eyes glistening in the low light of the cabin.
That night, ARJ had a tough time falling to sleep. Home was on his mind. He missed his grandparents. Would he ever see them again?
Mum and Dad sat facing the fireplace, talking softly. He tried to listen to their conversation over the sound of popping embers that interrupted their voices. Dad was worried about what was left of the money. ARJ lay still and listened. He wondered if America had a poor house where they would send them if they had no money. He wished he could sleep peacefully like John William and Eva Anna, who didn’t yet understand anything was wrong. Then he wouldn’t have to worry, but… he was too old for that.
Dad set a log in the fire and leaned back in his chair. “I know we’ll be fine if we can get through the first harvest. Sidney Brown and I talked to several farmers, in town today, who have a few years of experience farming this area. They suggested we start with corn this year and plant winter wheat in the autumn. I’d like to try it. This spring I’ll plant several acres of corn to sell, and oats for the horses and us, of course. We can also plant Irish potatoes and buckwheat for our own stores.”
“It sounds like you have it worked out. We simply need to get to harvest.”
Dad looked at Mum for a minute. “I can possibly get work elsewhere if needed. We’ll make it… IF… we can get through the trial successfully.”
“I believe we will.”
Mum and Dad sat quietly for a while, long enough that ARJ finally closed his eyes, entering a dream.
`The soles of ARJ’s feet sunk a bit as the wave receded from the beach, pulling sand from beneath his toes. He watched the line of ripples as they ran back from shore, to join the fiery orange water that reflected the sunset. The bay was dotted with small schooners gently rocking on the calm evening sea. ‘How lucky we are to have such colorful sunsets in Ryde.’ ARJ thought. The people on Isle of Wight seemed to agree, as many walked the long pier that stretched out into the Solent. ARJ turned and looked behind him until he spotted Grandpa William, who was standing a safe distance from the waves, smiling, and holding a pair of boys’ boots in one hand. ARJ smiled back and returned to his game of finding the holes of tiny, shelled creatures that the waves repeatedly attempted to uncover. He had much competition in the game with all the little waders and sanderlings on fast, slender legs, searching for dinner with their long beaks. The silhouettes of black headed gulls, riding the gentle waves, looked like tiny boats against the bright sky. ARJ loved everything about the beach. A sudden gust of wind caught his attention. He looked up to see the schooners bouncing on growing waves. “ARJ! We need to find shelter!” Grandpa yelled. A large white wave crashed over the sandy beach urging him toward Grandpa. As they ran, ARJ looked over his shoulder at angry clouds that roiled the sea beneath them. Grandpa and ARJ ran for shelter along the pier, riding out the storm that gradually subsided. In its wake was a dark gray sky over white capped waves still angrily pounding the beach. They walked closer to the water, stepping around the mess of broken shells and debris that littered the shore. ARJ stooped and picked up the egg-case purse of a young ocean ray, its little tale wiggled, tickling his hand. “Run and put it in the water, son.” Grandpa said with urgency in his voice. ARJ sprinted toward the waves, gently tossing it to safety. As he turned back, he saw the shore was filled with tiny marine animals, all needing rescue. There were so many! He picked up a seahorse next. It stretched its tail as if to propel itself to the ocean’s edge, but ARJ knew he was the only one who could save it. Tears coursed down his cheeks as he tried to rescue them all… but there were too many to save.’
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