November 05, 2006
Chapter Five
As they walked along the dirt road leading to the grounds for the festival she couldn’t help but laugh at her boys. The three middle door steps kept passing a fat pink little piglet between them instead of letting the little porker walk to the festival.
Caleb had insisted the pig could not walk because he would get dirty. A dirty pig would not win a blue ribbon. Each one carried the pig part of the way but the pig had other things in mind. It wiggled and squirmed, bristles and feet scratching at the boys wanting to be put down. It wasn’t long before Christopher produced a bit of twine and fashioned a quick harness and the boys did end up letting that piglet walk his way onto the festival grounds.
While the younger children had been tending their chores, Isaac had hitched the team and brought a loaded wagon to the booth they would be using. Etta had asked for three make shift tables to be set up and set about quickly arranging her display of items for sale. The grandmothers went off to make sure their quilt was properly displayed for the competition and the other children not chasing after a piglet helped to finish taking things out of the wagon. Her loaves of bread were wrapped in brown paper tied with strings, her pies were displayed under glass pie domes. There were a variety of pickles and jams from her summer harvest of fruits and garden vegetables. Grandma Beatrice had a few jars of her green tomato and peppers that were sure to set you off like fourth of July fireworks. Granny Jenkins had various bits of sewing of doilies and handkerchiefs among other females things she arranged on one of the far tables near the front.
Once the wagon was unloaded and everything in order Isaac took the team and wagon back home and set the animals out to pasture planning to walk back. It would be a long day and just before packing things in for the evening he and children would return for the wagon to transport whatever was leftover back home. Etta did not plan to have anything left over. She sliced a loaf of bread, opened a few jars of pickles and jam. Any man who happened by would welcome a taste, as would the children, and she knew that in itself would sell every jar, bread and pie she had.
The day was proving to be a beauty. The sun was shining and warm. A slight breeze whispered through every now and then. Everything was picture perfect. In fact better than perfect. It was barely midday and nearly everything she had was gone. Grandma Beatrice had one jar of peppers left and Granny Jenkins had taken orders for several pair of lace gloves, a few snoods and a dozen or so handkerchiefs. The needle work was indeed first class. It made Granny Jenkins and Etta very proud that some of the wealthier members of their society chose to purchase items from them instead of shopping for them in the bigger cities when they traveled. Granny Jenkins had also arranged to sew two ball gown to be delivered the week before Christmas for the Mayor’s wife and daughter.
Marjory Beecher had asked for several loaves of the pumpkin bread for her Thanksgiving table. She went on to explain that this year they would be entertaining several out of town relatives and friends as guest and anything she could do to make the work load easier on her household was a godsend. Etta knew exactly what she meant. Marjory planned to set out a continental breakfast for her houseguest during the three days they would be in her home.
“I don’t know how you find to time to do this kind of baking and tending your home with all these children to care for.” One gloved hand took the loaf of bread from Etta. “Land sakes alive, you must not sleep at night.”
“You don’t know how close to the truth that can be at times. But really, I make time for the important things and get to what I can in a day. The rest has to wait. “ Etta commented in response.
As the two women chatted Etta notice from the corner of her eye that her rambucious boys, Christopher, Caleb, Jacob, Jackson and little Shane were animatedly talking to two little flame haired boys. As they approached Etta could see they had the freckles to match their red hair.
The moving dust bowl of boys caught the attention of Marjory as well.
“I see your boys have made quick friends with the Miller twins.”
“It looks to be but I don’t know who they are. I was just going to ask you if you knew who those two boys belonged to.” Etta watched the boys veer off toward the pen where Isaac was waiting to watch the ‘greasy pig’ race that was soon to start.
“I thought you knew, Etta.” Her companion voice was amazed. “Those two boys belong to our new sheriff, Jasper Miller. Jabo is what, Henry calls him. They went to school together.”
At this point Granny Jenkins had joined them.
“I hear tell he is trying to raise more than those two boys,” Granny Jenkins was just playing coy with what she knew.
“Oh? What else might he be raising?”
“Hell, if you ask me,” Grandma Beatrice piped up.
At that Granny Jenkins began to laugh, “ And a ruckus, too.”
“He a widower, you know,” Marjory turned her attention to the two older women now watching the boys with them.
It was like pulling teeth from hen to get them to tell her what she wanted know. She was running out of patience.
“How do know all of this? I have been right here with you all day and I haven’t heard the least bit about the man, his children, or whatever it is he is raising.” Etta spoke up and broke up their gaggle.
“I know he has six children,” Granny Jenkins expounded.
“And they are all red headed, “ Grandma Beatrice added.
“And that is what he is raising, “ Marjory laughed. “Six red headed children that are far too unruly to be children of a man of the law.”
As the three women gossiped about what they knew Etta couldn’t help but to listen to every word.
“He was once almost family,” Granny Jenkins was talking to Grandma Beatrice.
“What do you mean he was almost family?” Etta interrupted the conversation.
“ He and The Judge were best of friends as boys,” Granny Jenkins told her. “Don’t you recall The Judge telling the children stories about him and Jabo Miller? “
Then the name rang a bell. It had been so long ago that she had heard those stories the name had previously slipped by her attention.
“Ohhhh,” she exclaimed with recognition. “I do remember now. How sad The Judge isn’t here to enjoy his company.”
“We should invite him to supper or at least send something to his house for the children,” Grandma Beatrice offered.
“Yes, you are right, Bea. As family of The Judge we should welcome him to our community.” Granny Jenkins liked the idea.
“Those children of his might like some cake or pie.” Marjory threw in but didn’t offer to bake anything at the same time. “I understand he tried to hire a housekeeper but three of them quit in less than a week. The oldest girl is trying to make their meals but from the likes of it I understand they are living mostly on stick bologna and cheese.”
“Bologna and cheese?” Etta couldn’t believe anyone would be trying to bring along children with only bologna and cheese. The idea made her feel badly for the children. As soon as she got home she would make plans to have the family over for supper and send home plenty of left overs.
“And soda crackers,” Marjory added.
By the time the women had bade Marjory farewell Etta felt so sorry for those poor children she was nearly beside herself.
The roar of the crowd at the arena for the ‘greasy pig’ as Shane called it drew her attention. She left the grandmothers at the booth while she walked over to watch. There were a dozen or more children in the fenced area chasing after several squealing and very greasy looking pigs. It took a few moments for her eyes to scan the moving blurs of children to pick out her own little one. Shane was in hot pursuit of one brown and white little critter. Fast on his heels were the two red haired boys she had seen earlier.
All of her children had gathered together and were rooting for Shane, urging him on. Even the smallest girls were giggling and screaming for Shane to ‘get’em.”
Around and around the children ran and around and around the pigs slipped right out of their touch. One minute a red headed boy had his arms wrapped around a fat pig and the next he was face down in the dirt pigless. By the time Shane actually got his arms around a pig he was able to keep hold of it because obviously the grease was on all of the other boys. Etta laughed along with crowd when the pig managed to once again escape a pair of arms and ran squealing around the enclosure. The look on her sons face was priceless.
Turning from the site of her children Etta made to return to the booth so the aunts could attend the quilt judging that would be coming up soon. Just as she turned away she collided face first into a wall of a man standing directly behind her.
“Pardon me, ma’am,” Two big hands easily steadied her by their grip on each of her upper arms.
Confused for a moment Etta murmured an apology and quickly moved away. Just as she stepped back to looked up. She was surprised her eyes did not reach a face. She had to look up higher to see who it was she had bumped into. As she did she saw the shiney star pinned to his coat front.
“Sheriff Miller,” she said surprised.
Posted by Angie at November 5, 2006 10:51 AM