TDTLBU Chapter Eleven

 

Summer slipped by in its usual patterns of work and play, hot sunny days balanced by cool evening breezes. For Myra it was a joyful summer, one of the happiest of her life, although she adjusted slowly. Her house had always been calm and quiet… and neat as a pin. She had thought her transition into motherhood would be gradual and easy… nine months of planning and waiting… and then a baby who never could create a mess, slowly growing into a boy. Her life had changed completely in the course of a day. And all summer long she got used to it, amid smiles and laughter and occasional tears.

It was strange, this sudden motherhood. She had never before known what it was like to have a young boy go thundering down the stairs in the morning, tugging at the buttons on his shirt, hair sticking in every direction, shoelaces untied, as he slid into his seat at the kitchen table. Muddy footprints tracked down the hall and occasionally, there were muddy footprints on the wall. Cookie crumbs lay on the stairs and apple cores on every imaginable surface. On one memorable occasion, Myra had taken it upon herself to clean Josh’s room and found half a ham sandwich in the sock drawer, a jar of (mostly) live ants under his pillow, a bag of dirty pebbles in an old shoe in the closet, half a dozen stale cookies wrapped in a napkin on the windowsill and, horror of horrors, a squashed frog under the bed. Rob had come on a run when he heard her screaming all the way from the barn. After that day, Myra made Josh clean the room himself while she stood in the doorway and watched. Depending on his mood, he would either grumble his way through the task or put on an entire Broadway show as he worked, somersaults, cartwheels, jumping-jacks and all. At least it was always entertaining.

Just as difficult to get used to as the constant messes was the never-ending noise. He slammed doors, whistled jaunty tunes, ran through the halls, jumped on the bed, and was always hollering at the top of his lungs. Especially when he was hungry. And goodness gracious, did that boy eat! Myra wondered if there was any bottom to his stomach. 

But Myra had never been happier. A loving husband, a thriving son… what more could she ask of the world? She savored her moments of peace but lived for Josh’s unexpected chaos. The memories of that summer she would cherish forever. Working in the garden while Josh enthusiastically hacked at weeds with a hoe, sitting on the back porch and watching the children run wildly across the yard, picking apples in the orchard while they swung from trees like monkeys, spreading picnic feasts under the old oak tree in the backyard. In the evenings now, Myra no longer did fancy work. She had her old treadle machine moved to the living room and there she would sit, sewing boy-sized shirts out of flour sacks and making over Rob’s old jeans in smaller sizes. Rob would sit in his chair by the radio, poring over the financial columns in the newspaper or marking down figures while frowning at the almanac. And Josh would sit cross-legged in the center of the braided rug on the floor, chin propped in his hands, as he listened with wide eyes to the adventures of the Lone Ranger and Sherlock Holmes. Occasionally he would have to jump to his feet to let loose a wild “yee-haw” or “knock ‘em dead!” Then Myra would catch Rob’s eyes and they’d both grin.

Only one thing spoiled the perfection of that beautiful summer. And it was more a feeling than anything that Myra could put her finger on. A sort of nagging essence of something in the back of her mind. While Josh seemed perfectly at home at the Hayes farm, she knew he hadn’t adjusted completely. And there were times when she was afraid he’d never be won over. There was something there… something vague and indefinable… that held him distant from her. Perhaps it was the way that he always called her “Mrs. Hayes”... even when he was yelling across the barnyard. She longed for him to think of her as his mother. But she was determined not to push him. 

“Give him time,” Rob advised. “After all, he’s lived thirteen years without us. Let him get used to us first.”

And so she waited. But it was so hard to be patient.

✯✯✯

Late on one of the last evenings of summer, Rob and Myra were startled by a smudged and freckled face at the open kitchen window. Myra paused halfway to the table with a hot pan of potatoes as Rob glanced up from his almanac. He had been planning out crops for the next year, papers and magazines spread recklessly everywhere. 

“Anyone seen Josh?” Emma called out, standing on tiptoe to see through the window. “Can’t find him anywhere!”

“He’s out in the orchard with Jerry,” Myra called back. “They’re building something, I think.”

“No, he’s not.” Emma answered emphatically. “He’s gone and so is Jerry. We’ve searched everywhere, Ronnie and I, and we can’t find either of them.”

“Check the swimming hole,” Rob had turned back to his papers, scribbling away busily. 

“We looked there too. Think he’s lost?”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Rob spoke absently, frowning over his figures.

“Oh… but… Rob…” Myra set the potatoes dangerously close to the edge of the table and twisted her hands nervously in her apron. “He doesn’t know his way around yet.”

“He’s been all over the place for the past month,” Rob glanced up again. “He probably knows every nook and cranny of this place, better ‘n I do.”

“But what about the woods? And the pond… Oh, Rob…” Myra groaned, her face steadily growing paler. “Please…”

“Okay, okay, I’ll go find him.” Rob pushed his chair back from the table hastily and scooped his papers together. “Mothers…” he grinned and winked at Emma. She smiled back, somewhat faintly, and vanished from the window. In another moment she was at the back door, impatiently hopping from one bare foot to the other as Rob found his hat. Myra followed her husband to the door, peering anxiously out over his shoulder. She was scanning the horizon, shading her eyes from the setting sun. 

“What if he’s hurt? Oh, my poor boy… Wait… I’m going too, Rob!”

“Don’t worry so much, dear,” Rob grinned reassuringly. “I’ll have him back in time for supper. And I’d better get a move on too, before Emma dies of impatience.”

Myra drew a deep breath as she watched Rob move off towards the orchard. Emma was skipping practically in circles around him and then running up ahead of him, finally disappearing into the treeline. She turned back to the kitchen, checking the fire in the stove. Pulling out her casserole, she covered it with a towel and sat down to wait. The radio was playing softly in the background, soft evening music interrupted by the seven o’clock news report. She sighed as she heard the familiar voice of the newscaster, mingled with the somber chimes of the grandfather clock. It was suppertime now and no sign of Rob or Josh through the windows. The news faded in and out, the volume so faint she could barely distinguish the words. 

“... rising tensions in Germany as new leader Adolf Hitler declares himself head of the German government… controversy centered around his plans for the country in the future… British prime minister J. Ramsay Macdonald declines to express an opinion about the growing concerns..."

With a sudden impulsive thought, Myra started from her chair, snatching a sweater from its hook on the wall. She shrugged it on impatiently as she hurried through the back door, following the direction Rob had taken, a half hour earlier. She found him quickly, just as he finished his rounds of the barnyard and circled back to the orchard. Ronnie had just made his way from the Stewart farm to report that neither Josh nor Jerry had been seen there and Emma had run all the way to Jerry’s house and back without success. Jerry’s father, Reverend Bailey, had followed her back and Jim had come in from the fields, both now insisting that they search the woods. 

“Do you think he’s alright?” Myra’s voice sounded strangled as she edged up against Rob, clutching his arm nervously. “Surely he wouldn’t have…” her voice trailed off and her hands on Rob’s arm trembled. 

 

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Rob wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “He and Jerry just got busy playing and forgot the time. We’ll split up and take the trail in opposite directions, we should be able to find them soon.”

This time Rob couldn’t persuade her to stay home. Myra followed him into the woods, Emma at her side. Strange how silent Emma suddenly was. She usually couldn’t force her steady stream of words to stop.

The sun slowly sank towards the horizon and twilight fell, spreading inky-purple darkness over the cap of the sky. The light only barely showed around the edges, and then that too was gone. Stars began to shine, one by one, the brightest showing their light first. The moon was only just on the horizon, a shining white crescent. Ronnie had gone with his father in the opposite direction while Reverend Bailey trekked once again around both farmyards. One hour later, they met back at the orchard to report and took the other trail, both again in opposite directions. Within another hour, they were far out in the middle of the woods. Much farther than the children were ever allowed to go. None of them had ever been past the creek before and this was strange and unknown territory. By this time, Myra was praying aloud, her voice shaking. She paused her prayers every few moments to call out for Josh, growing louder and more desperate every time. Emma’s voice was nearly hoarse.

And then… at last…  an answering cry. The boys came crashing through the underbrush, scrambling out on the path. Emma bolted off before Myra could stop her, throwing herself at Josh with such force that she nearly knocked him off his feet. Jerry wasn’t far behind, grinning sheepishly in a valiant attempt to steel himself for the scolding he knew he was going to get.

“You… you… you crazy idiot,” Emma snapped as Josh managed to pull away from her and regain his balance. “You scared us all half to death.” But she bit off her words as she noticed his face, half-wild with fear and relief. He stood alone, staring at Myra with his head cocked to the side, suddenly shy and afraid and hopeful all at once. In the next moment, she was running towards him, arms outstretched.

“Josh…” was all Myra could manage as she wrapped him in her arms, tears sliding down her cheeks. He hugged her back fiercely, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to hide his own tears.

“I’m sorry… Mom.” he whispered and Myra burst into sobs, pressing him close against her heart. He glanced over her shoulder at Rob. “Dad… I’m sorry. I… didn’t mean to scare you. We were... gonna play Dan'l Boone... Jerry said we had to get out into the woods so we could forge the Wilderness Road... we were looking for the Indian camp and we got too far out an' couldn't find the path... And here we were right next to it all the time... We've been goin' in circles for hours, I bet..."

“It’s alright,” Myra sniffed, her voice shaky as she held on to him tighter. “You’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

In the commotion that followed as Emma scurried back over the trail to find the others and report that the fugitives had been discovered, Myra barely caught Josh’s whispered words. But they made her heart nearly burst with joy. 

“I love you, Mom.”

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