Twenty-Eight

“Pa, I just decided this morning I needn’t stick around for my high school graduation. No one hardly knows me there, anyway.”

“Maybe because you often weren’t there, John?” Jennie had not considered the possibility in the past. Not

John Stark, possibly
far right, second row

seriously. But now she was re-thinking everything about her little brother. John’s response was to grin and hang his thumbs on his belt.

Jennie told Orval she had just changed her mind, too, and that she longed for the Laclede farm. “You know, Father, I do not believe I will have a lot more time with my grandparents. Grandmother already needs a lot of help, and I don’t think Grandfather is far behind her. I suspect one illness could finish off either or both of them.”

It occurred to Jennie that she and John were seeking to appease a man whom they were reviling a couple of hours earlier. But he looked so…broken. And maybe it was possible he was indeed changing for the better. However, she did not think he would be vastly different overnight. No, only time will tell, and maybe some distance from his children will help clarify things in his mind.

“Father,” started Jennie, hoping to change the direction of the conversation, “I wonder if you could send my things on to the farm. Either when you come up yourself, or maybe send my trunk on a train once the crowds disperse. Apparently, transportation to the depot is difficult to come by today.”

“Well, if you have it ready by the time you are going to the depot, I can take you. I’ll borrow Louis Barr’s wagon again. That’s how I took your grandfather and aunt this morning. Shall I go get it?”

Jennie turned to her aunt. “Do you think we can be ready in an hour or so?”

“I already am. There was little to pack.”

“Well, Father, I will pack as much as I can. If anything remains, let Miss Spillar next door know. Tell her she can have whatever remains. Anything she doesn’t want, either of you are free to dispose. John, since you are ready, do you mind popping in at the residence and letting Miss Spillar know of my plans? Tell her I will write her. And… give her this for her troubles.” Jennie reached in her pocket for whatever coins she had. One was a silver dollar.

Orval straightened. He had slumped, face in hands, moments earlier. But he felt it was time to assume his Fatherly role, such as he could muster.

“Well, the two of you seem to have your minds made up. You are both adults now.”

Orval stood. Turning to his son, he added, “John, in case you are headed out and not planning on returning,” he held out his hand to shake, “take care of yourself. And please write and let me know what you are up to.”

John took his father’s hand and pulled himself close enough to give Orval a hug. “I’ll try.”

He then strode over to his sister. “Jennie, I’ll let you know at Grandpa’s farm how to reach me once I have landed somewhere. You take care. And…,” he paused, looking down, then back at Jennie, “I am so proud of you.”

A tear threatened, but John threw it off with his trademark wink.

Jennie threw her arms around her brother, who was about her height. “Johnny, I’ll miss you. Please be careful. And please… write as often as you can!”

John placed his hat on his head and seeing his aunt in the background, seated at the kitchen table, he said “Aunt Lizzie, it was wonderful to see you again. Give my love to Grandmother Gardner.”

Then John nodded to his sister and father and exited.

Orval gulped, so loudly that Jennie could hear it. After a moment, he told the other two he was off to borrow the wagon and would return as soon as he could, probably in about half an hour.

Jennie set to dividing up her belongings with the help of her auntie.

One of Jennie's
Unidentified Photos,
Possibly of Aunt Lizzie

“Now, let’s see… This can go to Ida, and this, too.” Jennie held up a chemise and a fashion magazine. “One of my friends from school gave me that. I believe she thought I needed to take better consideration of what I wear. But I see clothing as utilitarian, to keep us modestly covered and warm in the colder months.”

Jennie emptied out her chest of drawers. She put most of the contents in the chest, but saved out a few more things for Ida. Turning to her wardrobe, she took out the remainder of the clothing and folded the garments, placing them in the chest.

“Miss Jennie, I am surprised at how sparse your wardrobe is!”

“Well, Auntie, I responded to the clothing drive at church. There are many out there who need garments more than I do. But do not think I am a martyr. A lot of what I gave away had mended patches on them. But they were clean!”

“And they will be appreciated. Jennie, it makes me tear up to see what a kind and generous young woman you have become. You had every right to be bitter, and yet, I see an optimistic, determined woman before me. You know what?”

Jennie paused her packing and gazed at her aunt.

“You will make a very fine teacher. Not just in imparting knowledge, but in inspiring and being the perfect role model.”

Jennie sighed and sat on the edge of her bed.

“Aunt Lizzie, I have tried. And yet, I feel as though it is not enough.”

“What do you mean, dear?”

“If I had done all I should have, Father would not have reason to have left us so often. He would not have made so many…mistakes.”

Aunt Lizzie began to utter something but reconsidered.

“Auntie, I can tell you were going to say something. Please let me know what is on your mind. I value your opinion. Though…” she looked at her aunt cautiously, “sometimes I do not think you give Father a fair chance.”

Aunt Lizzie picked at threads on the comforter.

“Aunt Lizzie, maybe I should take that quilt, too. I don’t think Father will have a good use for a flowery bed covering, and since Grandmother Gardner made it, well, I cannot just leave it, can I?”

Jennie stuffed the quilt, with Aunt Lizzie’s help, onto the top of the clothing and other belongings in the capacious trunk but they could not close the lid all the way. Jennie reached into the clothing underneath and pulled out a dress.

“As between this and the quilt, well, the quilt wins. I hope Ida will donate this if she does not want it.”

Within the hour, Orval returned with the wagon. He carried Jennie’s trunk out, the two ladies following with their satchels, and the three departed. At the depot, Orval hitched the horses and hauled the trunk to the area on the platform where the larger pieces of luggage were being placed, then headed to the line where Jennie and Aunt Lizzie stood.

“I’ll pay,” he stated. He was standing tall, looking more confident than Jennie could ever remember. Aunt Lizzie motioned him into the line in front of her, then stepped out. Jennie placed her hand in the crook of her father’s arm and gave it a squeeze.

The train arrived a little early. Aunt Lizzie boarded it almost immediately, ticket in hand, while Jennie hung back.

“Father.”

Orval gazed down at the young lady—now a woman, one he realized perhaps too late he fully respected.

“I wish you well, Father.” Jennie reached up and pecked him on the cheek, and then, without glancing back, boarded.

Orval looked, but could not find either lady on the other side of any of the windows. He surmised they seated themselves on the opposite side of the train, hidden from view. But he waved anyway. Then sank onto the bench outside the train station.