The Winds of Autumn Read online

  CHAPTER 2

  Pleading Our Case

  I DIDN’T SAY MUCH to Aunt Lou while I wolfed down the cookies and milk she had out for me. She had already gotten the word that Miss Williams was done—had left just like that and our school was without a teacher in the middle of a term.

  “It’s a shame, that’s what it is,” remarked Aunt Lou. I guess she might have been repeating what everyone else on our block was saying, for she suddenly checked herself. She thought for a moment in silence and then continued in a lower voice, sort of confidential-like, “I think it’s exciting that Miss Williams has finally made up her mind to marry the man who has been her friend for so many years. It must have taken courage. I do hope they will be happy together.”

  Aunt Lou’s eyes wandered to the tintype of her own wedding on the mantel. I looked at it too, and even their proper-like expressions couldn’t hide the light in her eyes or the triumph in Uncle Nat’s. Her eyes now got a little misty, and then she sort of shook her head and spoke quietly. “It’s just too bad it had to be in the middle of the school year like this, though.”

  Still, I knew Aunt Lou was quite ready to forgive Miss Williams for her small departure from accepted behavior for teachers.

  She stood up.

  “Well, it shouldn’t be for too long,” she said as though to comfort me. “The School Board has already called a meeting.

  They expect to have a new teacher here in no time.” She reached out and patted my shoulder.

  I tried to look properly sorrowful and downed the last of my milk.

  “Better get at my chores,” I said to explain why I was in such a hurry. “Some of us fellas plan to go to Jack’s for a little while tonight. Sort of plan how we will handle this—this time off—without a teacher—an’ all.”

  Lou smiled her approval. “Good for you!” she encouraged. “It’s nice to see you boys are responsible enough to work it out. Even with school out for a while, I’m sure you won’t suffer much with that kind of an attitude.”

  I nodded agreeably. I wasn’t expecting to suffer much either—that is, if we could talk our folks into letting us do what we had in mind.

  I hurried through my chores and opened the kitchen door wide enough to call to Aunt Lou that I was leaving but would be back in plenty of time for supper. She called back a cheerful response, the approving smile in her voice. I felt a little funny about it. I mean, here she was thinking we were planning on how we could keep up with our studies, and we were thinking on how we could get as far away from our books as possible in the short time we had.

  Swishing through the leaves on the ground, I didn’t let it trouble me for too long. After all, I hadn’t actually told Aunt Lou that we were thinking on studying. She had come up with that idea herself.

  I was the first one to Jack’s house. He was loafing out under the apple tree in his yard, a geometry book in his hand. I knew he had been sent out there to study. When I appeared he laid aside all pretense of looking at the book and motioned me over to join him.

  “Well?” he demanded.

  “Aw, I ain’t said nothin’ yet,” I told him. “Have you? I mean, I thought we were gonna meet to plan things first an’—”

  “Exactly!” said Jack.

  “Aunt Lou thinks I’m comin’ over here to plan how I’m gonna keep up in my schoolwork,” I said rather sheepishly.

  “Did you tell her that?” asked Jack, his eyes narrowing to little slits.

  “ ’Course not!” Made me a little mad at Jack. He knew very well I didn’t lie none.

  “Then you can’t help how she figures it,” shrugged Jack.

  “Guess—not,” I sort of stammered. “Still, I wish she hadn’t seen it that way. Might make it harder when we do ask an’ all.”

  Jack didn’t look quite so cocky. “Sure hope not,” he said, and I knew he saw my point.

  This time I couldn’t shake my uncomfortable feeling. I had never been untruthful with Aunt Lou, and I sure didn’t want to start now, even if it did cost me the planned hike.

  Avery joined us, puffing from his run and his breathless question turned my thoughts back to our planned trip. “Who’s gonna be the cook?”

  What in the world was he talking about?

  “Who’s gonna cook?” he asked again, his head swiveling between us. “We gotta have someone to cook or we don’t go.”

  Jack was the one to respond. “We’ll all cook.”

  Avery looked doubtful. “I can’t cook,” he stated flatly and then added skeptically, “An’ I’ll bet you can’t either.”

  “Don’t be crazy!” Jack scoffed. “It don’t take a cook to fix a meal over’n open fire. You just stick it over the flame and that’s it.”

  “You ever tried it?” asked Avery, persistent.

  Jack gave him a dark look. “Thought you was the fella who was so all fired rarin’ to go. Why you gettin’ so worked up now? Stay home if you want,” he said sarcastically, and Avery quickly changed his tack.

  “Guess we could take along a loaf a bread and some cheese,”

  he stated, but he didn’t sound too enthusiastic.

  “I’m plannin’ to eat fish,” I announced on a positive note.

  Avery never had been fond of fish or fishing.

  “Who’ll cook ’em?” he asked me.

  I was getting a little tired of Avery’s gloomy persistence too.

  “I’ll cook ’em, that’s who.”

  “You done it before?”

  He had me there. My job was to catch them. It was Aunt Lou or Grandpa or Uncle Charlie who had done the cooking of them. I hadn’t even cleaned a fish on my own. Well, I was game to give it a try. Anybody could clean and cook a fish.

  Willie arrived just then and saved me the bother of convincing Avery.

  The four of us settled down on the green lawn of the Berry backyard, our legs crossed in front of us Indian style. We pro- ceeded to call to order, so to speak, our little meeting to make plans for the coming camp-out.

  Since none of us had ever been on one before, we didn’t know just how to approach the planning. Willie reached into his jeans pocket and came up with a stub of pencil and a sheet of folded paper. We all praised him some for his good thinking, and then we looked at one another. Jack sort of took charge.

  “First of all we gotta figure what we’re gonna need,” he said, and that sounded sensible enough to the rest of us.

  “Blankets,” Jack started in, as though he had been doing more camp-out thinking than geometry studying while he was waiting for us to join him.

  “Yeah,” agreed Avery, “it gets pretty cold at night.”

  Willie scribbled “blankets” on one side of the paper.

  “Food,” went on Jack to Avery’s energetic nod.

  “ ‘Food’ is too general. We gotta be ’pecific,” said Willie, waiting with his pencil poised in the air.

  None of us had ever done any meal planning before.

  “Bread,” ventured Avery.

  Willie’s pencil scratched again.

  “Cheese,” continued Avery.

  “Bread and cheese! You crazy? I ain’t living for days on bread and cheese,” Jack contradicted.

  “Well, you say what you want then!” snapped Avery. “Don’t hear no bright ideas from you.”

  Willie interrupted before Jack and Avery had time to really get in a fuss. They never had been able to get along very well.

  “I’ve got ‘bread and cheese’; now what else do we want?”

  “We’ll need some butter ’n flour ’n salt ’n pepper for fryin’ the fish,” I put in rather knowledgeably. I had watched Aunt Lou mix the ingredients and put the floured fish in the sizzling butter many times, and her fried fish always tasted great.

  “An’ what iffen you don’t catch any fish?” questioned Jack in a smart-aleck fashion.

  “Then I guess you just eat bread and cheese,” I threw back at him.

  “We need pans for cooking—a fryin’ pan and a kettle of some kind,�
�� cut in Willie to keep things from getting out of hand.

  “Matches!” shouted Avery in a burst of inspiration.

  We all gave him looks of appreciation. Matches at a campsite we would need all right.

  Our list continued on to the back of the sheet, and before I knew it Mrs. Berry was calling Jack in for supper and the rest of us realized we’d better be getting home to our suppers, too.

  Avery and I left Jack’s yard on the run. Willie trotted off the other direction. It was hard to run and talk at the same time, so we didn’t say a whole lot to each other.

  “When you gonna ask?” Avery puffed.

  “Dunno,” I gasped out.

  “Who you gonna ask?” went on Avery.

  I shook my head. “Not sure yet,” I admitted.

  Truth was, I still wasn’t clear on just which of my kin might make the best ally. I would sort of need to feel my way.

  “Well, we can’t wait,” puffed Avery. “That ol’ School Board is likely to go and rustle up a teacher ’fore we even get a chance to enjoy the break.”

  Avery was breathing hard after that long speech. I knew he was right, but I also disliked being pressured.

  “I’ll ask,” I told him firmly; “don’t you worry none about it.”

  We parted company at the end of Cottonwood Street, Avery heading off one direction and me the other. I looked at the sky as I ran on. I was afraid I was going to be late for supper, and though Aunt Lou might not scold, it sure wouldn’t help my cause none.

  I pulled into the lane that led past the parsonage and into the backyard just as Uncle Nat was dismounting Dobbin. I came to a halt beside him, struggling some to catch my breath.

  “Whoa,” said Nat. “Where you coming from in such a hurry?”

  I waited a spell till I could talk a bit more evenly and then answered, “Been over at Jack’s house—thought I might’ve stayed longer’n I intended. ’Fraid I was late for supper.”

  “Well, so am I,” stated Nat, but he didn’t seem worried none. “Mrs. Miranda took a bad turn again.”

  “Is she okay?” I asked.

  “Seems to be fine again now.”

  I thought it must be at least once a week Uncle Nat was called to the Willises to say a prayer for “the departing Mrs. Miranda,” as old Grandma Willis was called. She never had needed the final prayer yet, but then, I reckoned, someday she would and who could know just when that day might be?

  I took up the reins hanging from Dobbin’s bridle and waited for Uncle Nat to slip the saddle; then I led the horse toward the small barn and the stall that waited for him.

  Even though Dobbin had gone about ten miles out to the Willis place and back, he still walked into the barn with a spring in his step. As always, I admired the horse. Gramps had bought him for Uncle Nat and Aunt Lou along with a sharp-looking little one-horse buggy. When Uncle Nat went alone, he usually rode the horse, though, instead of hitching up the rig. It was faster and he figured it saved the horse some too.

  When we got to the barn I slipped Dobbin’s bridle off and changed it for a halter. Uncle Nat reached for the currie comb and brush to give the horse a brisk rubdown. Without waiting to be asked, I crawled over the manger and forked in enough hay for the horse’s supper. Then I measured out his chop. I had done this many times, so I knew just how much was needed.

  “Hear you’re without a teacher,” commented Uncle Nat as the two of us worked side by side.

  “Yeah,” I responded without much emotion.

  Nat smiled. “When I was your age I suppose I would’ve been rejoicing over having some free time—making all sorts of plans as to what I would do with it.”

  I didn’t answer.

  “This is really unusual for you,” Uncle Nat went on reflectively. “No school at a time of year when there is no more farm work to be done. How do you plan to fill in those long, boring days?”

  I knew he was funning me some, but I also saw it as a chance—a chance to maybe put in a word for the plans we had been making.

  “Well,” I said, real casual-like, “the fellas and me’ve been talkin’. Thought it might be a good time to try that there hike and—and camp-out we’ve been hopin’ to work in.”

  I glanced from Dobbin, who was busy cleaning up his oats, to Uncle Nat. He never missed a stroke with the brush.

  “Camping? Don’t remember your mentioning camping.”

  “Well, no, we haven’t,” I hurried on. “Whenever the weather’s been good enough, there was crops and garden still to be tended. But, just as you said, that work is all done this fall. And—and truth is,” I finished in a rush, “I hadn’t really thought on it before.” I felt I needed to be totally honest with Uncle Nat.

  Uncle Nat just nodded his head.

  “We thought this might be a real good time,” I pressed my point.

  Then I checked myself. I didn’t want to seem too eager— too pushy.

  “Who’s doing the planning?” asked Uncle Nat.

  “Me n’ Avery, n’ Willie n’ Jack,” I blurted out.

  Uncle Nat smiled a soft, teasing smile.

  “When you give that list to your aunt Lou,” he said, “I’d advise you to say, ‘Avery, Willie, Jack and I.’ ”

  I ducked my head. I’d been corrected on that particular grammatical error many times—especially by Aunt Lou.

  “Where’re you going?” asked Uncle Nat next.

  My heart sort of skipped a bit. He had said, “Where’re you going?” just like it had already been settled.

  “Thought we’d follow the crik up into the hills where it starts at the spring,” I answered, trying to make it sound like it had all been carefully figured out and approved. “Well, I just thought of it now,” I continued in my efforts toward honesty, “but I think the fellas’ll agree.”

  Uncle Nat nodded.

  He turned then and put the currie comb and brush back up on the peg on the wall, gave Dobbin one more sound pat and nodded for me that we’d better get in to our supper.

  I followed, just a bit hesitantly. I wasn’t sure whether I’d won the round or not. Did Uncle Nat understand the need of a boy to get off on his own? Would he support me if it came to convincing the rest of the family?

  We were almost to the house before he reached out a hand and let it rest on the top of my shoulder.

  “Sounds like a great idea to me,” he commented. “If I didn’t have so many duties here at the church this week, I’d be right tempted to join you.”

  I let out my breath in a whoosh. Uncle Nat was on my side! That should count for something, at least. For the first time, I began to hope that I really might get to go.

  CHAPTER 3

  A Little Help

  ALL THE WAY OUT to the farm the next morning, Saturday, I felt my insides squirming a bit. I don’t know why I was so nervous. I guess I wanted that camping trip far more than I supposed I would. I mean, I had never even thought of going camping until the day before when Avery suggested it, and now I was all het up about it. At the time I didn’t even stop to wonder about Avery. He had never been one to care much for the out-of-doors that I was aware of. He didn’t even like to fish, and yet here he throws out this surprise dream of his. But, as I said, I didn’t think about that side of it till later.

  I was busy thinking about me. More than anything in the world I wanted that camping trip. I don’t know when I had ever wanted anything so much in my life except maybe when I had wanted a dog. Or when I had wanted to keep Aunt Lou instead of marrying her off to some local fella who wouldn’t even fully appreciate what he was getting.

  Well, I had my dog. Gramps had seen to that. I held Pixie closer to my chest and stroked the soft hair under her chin while she wiggled and strained against me. Even she, who loved to be cuddled, didn’t like being held that close.

  And as for Aunt Lou’s marrying, when it came right down to it, I highly approved of the fella she had chosen. I felt pretty close to Uncle Nat myself. In fact, I dared to hope he might put in a word for
me if it came down to arguing my case with the three menfolk at the farm.

  We turned the horse and buggy down the lane, and my stomach did another turn as well. It wouldn’t be long now until I would know one way or the other.

  Grandpa met us at the front gate that opened up to the old farm home. He smiled his welcome from ear to ear and reached out to hug Aunt Lou. She had her arms full of baking like she always did when she visited the farm, but she accepted the hug anyway, giving Grandpa a kiss on his weathered cheek. Then Grandpa shook Nat’s hand firmly and turned to me.

  “So yer without a teacher, eh, Boy?” he said.

  He still called me “boy” even though I felt I had outgrown that name. Still, I didn’t resent it none the way Grandpa said it.

  I just nodded my head.

  “We heard the news,” Grandpa said to Uncle Nat. “Was plannin’ to come on in an’ pick Josh up this mornin’. Hope it didn’t mean a special trip for ya.”

  Uncle Nat just smiled. “Lou was anxious to come out and check on you anyway. I had some time this morning, and we plan to stop in at the Curtises on the way back to town and see that new baby.”

  We were met on the porch by Gramps, who patted my shoulder and hugged Aunt Lou. I could hear Uncle Charlie clattering dishes in the kitchen and guessed it was his turn for kitchen duties. He stepped to the door, dish towel in one hand and a pot in the other.

  After our hellos Lou moved to set down her baking and put on the coffeepot. It didn’t matter how long it was between visits, she still took over the kitchen whenever she stepped in the door.

  We all settled into comfortable spots around the room.

  “So what’s this we hear about your school being closed, Joshua?” asked Gramps. Him being from the city and all, he was real interested in my education. The conversation turned to the school and the need for a teacher since Miss Williams up and left to marry her longtime sweetheart.

  “Any idea how long it might be before classes resume?” asked Gramps.

  He was asking Uncle Nat, not me, and I was willing to let him answer.

  “The School Board is already working on it,” Uncle Nat assured him. “They hope they’ll have another teacher in the classroom within a week.”