TDTLBU Chapter Seven

"Is this all you need?" Myra asked anxiously as Joshua joined them in the lobby, clutching a tattered and faded red carpet bag that looked like a relic left over from the mid nineteenth century. He nodded, lowering his eyes to avoid her gaze. 

"We'll send someone up to Jefferson sometime within the next month to check up with you and make sure Joshua is getting settled," Mr. Solomon smiled kindly at the boy with something of sadness flickering in his eyes. "He can be a handful at times, but we'll sure miss him around here. I hope this will be a change for the better for him," he added, lowering his voice. "As I've told you, he's had much more than his share of hardships, poor lad. Please don't hesitate to contact me if you have even the slightest of questions or concerns. Best of luck to you both and God bless you." He shook hands with both Rob and Myra, nodding at them encouragingly before bending down on eye level with the boy.

"Well Joshua, my boy, you're off to a new life. How do you feel?"

"Dunno," Joshua muttered with a shrug. 

"We'll all miss you," Mr. Solomon smiled. "Be good for your new folks, be respectful and do what they tell you. I'm sure you'll enjoy the country and…" he broke off as he straightened up, letting his hand rest on the boy's shoulder. "God bless you, son." His voice was husky as he stepped back. Her heart beating wildly, Myra reached for the boy's hand, feeling a slight pang of disappointment as he showed away. But he followed willingly enough as they moved out of the dim lobby into the bright sunshine outside. Mrs. Solomon was waiting at the door and bent to give the boy a brief hug before wishing the Hayes best of luck and shutting the door behind them. Myra's eyes met Rob's over Joshua's head and something silent passed between them… a shared feeling of fear and anxiety and excitement. She knew without asking that he was praying and so was she. 

'Well, Joshua," Rob's voice was buoyant and cheerful as they descended the steps to the waiting taxi. "Let's go home."

✯✯✯

Myra was up the next morning once again before the crack of dawn. Her entire being was fairly vibrating with a kind of ecstatic anxiety as she tiptoed down the steps to the kitchen. Through the window, she could see the faint beam of Rob's flashlight bobbing up and down in the yard. He was up earlier than usual too. Neither of them had gotten much sleep at all the night before, tossing and turning restlessly until both were hopelessly entangled in the covers. Myra hated that feeling. She had insisted on getting out of bed to readjust the covers, to which Rob had groaned in protest. He was certainly tired enough, he just couldn't seem to fall asleep. Myra, on the other hand, wasn't tired at all.

They hadn't gotten back until nearly suppertime the night before and Myra had been nearly weak with relief to find a casserole in the cooler, waiting only to be warmed and served. She had blessed Donna silently as she did so. Joshua had been nearly silent the entire trip to the farm, speaking briefly only when spoken to. But Myra, with her teacher's instinct, had been reading him like a book. She heard his sharp intake of breath when they boarded the train, sensing his inward excitement and yet his sigh of regret as they left the city far behind. He had watched it disappear over the horizon with a look of almost longing and then settled reluctantly against the back of the seat, casting the country landscape only a glance of almost curiosity every now and then.

"Have you ever been to the country before?" Myra had asked him. He didn't look at her as he answered.

"I ain't never been out of Cincinnati."

Biting her tongue to keep herself from correcting his grammar, Myra searched her mind for something to say to him. He didn't seem to be at all talkative and she felt herself suddenly afraid. She had never been at a loss for words around a child before. She was relieved when Rob mentioned lunch. It was rather past lunchtime by that time, but in all the excitement, they hadn't had a chance to eat yet. 

"You live on a farm," Joshua stated more than asked as Rob stood to pull the picnic basket from the compartment overhead.

"Sure do, son," Rob grinned, sitting back down and sliding the basket over to Myra. 

"I ain't your son," Joshua muttered under his breath. Myra felt the blood rush into her cheeks but she said nothing as she bent over her basket, hastily rummaging through it. She passed out sandwiches and cookies, which the boy accepted in silence. She was relieved that he bowed his head when Rob said grace. Lord only knew what kind of religious training he had before going to the orphanage, but at least they would have taught him there. 

"We have a few milk cows," Rob continued casually as they ate. "Some sheep and hogs and quite a few chickens."

"That's a lot of animals," Joshua glanced up at Rob with a sudden flicker of interest, grinning shyly. "Got a dog?"

"No, not a dog," Myra began slowly. "But we have a few barn cats! One just had kittens!" 

"Kittens are fun," his grin widened slightly, but he had dropped his eyes again.

"There's a family next door with four children," Myra suddenly remembered, speaking cheerfully. "They have a boy who would be just about your age… his name is Ronnie and he's fourteen. Emma is twelve, Katie is eight, and Mikey six. I'm sure you'll get to be good friends with them."

Joshua only shrugged.

"Never really had friends."

Myra sighed in the darkness of her kitchen as the rest of the night ran through her mind. Her heart was aching for this young boy, wondering what he must have suffered in his short life. Mr. Solomon hadn't been able to tell them much at all. He had been found on the streets and brought to the orphanage less than a year ago. He had run away once and was brought back three days afterwards, filthy and starving. He himself had never said much about his life. His father had left him and his mother when he was eight. Why, he didn't know. His mother had died the following year with pneumonia. A neighbor in their tenant building had taken him in, but treated him badly and he had taken to the streets at eleven years old.

"No child should ever live that way," she murmured aloud as she absently rummaged through the cooler. No eggs. She'd either have to wait for Rob to bring them in or go get them herself. She moved to the back wall for her chore coat but soft footsteps behind her caused her to turn quickly.

"Good morning, Joshua," she smiled cheerfully. "Up and dressed already?"

"Morning," he answered shyly, putting his head down as he traced circles on the floor with the toe of a badly-scuffed boot. "Need me to do anything, ma'am?" 

"We'll…" Myra put her hands on her hips and scanned the kitchen. "I'll tell you what, I'm out of eggs. The barn is just out that way," she pointed towards the window. "Rob's out there now. If you take this basket and go find him, he'll show you how to gather the eggs." She handed him the basket and he went out without a word. 

The sun was slowly beginning to rise, sending streaks of pink and orange across a navy blue sky. Myra turned up the gas on the stove, grating potatoes into sizzling butter in a cast iron skillet. As she sliced bacon into another skillet, her mind wandered back again to the night before. Joshua had reacted but little to the house, but her heart still warmed with the memory of how his eyes had glowed at the sight of his new room. She had spent hours getting that room ready… from the braided rugs on the floor to the dark red curtains adorned with pictures of tractors and farm animals, to the china pig on the dresser. Rob had moved the cradle out as soon as they got home, but Myra had already put a little bed in the room in preparation for their boy growing up. It was probably a much more comfortable bed than the boy had seen in forever with its freshly filled feather mattress and warm patchwork quilt. 

"I’ll have to see what I can do about getting that poor boy some clothes," Myra mused aloud as she flipped the bacon. "Shoes too, and a Sunday suit and a good, warm coat. The price of things is outrageous these days… but I suppose we can manage… this time."

✯✯✯

Joshua stepped out tentatively into the brisk, fresh air of a country morning… his first morning out of the city. It seemed strange, all that quiet. He stood still as a marble statue on the back porch, just watching and listening. Strange croaking noises came from a stretch of dense trees not far back from the house… birds chirping overhead, the rush of wind rustling through leafy branches… and from the barn, hogs grunting, cows mooing, horses whinnying, chickens clucking. A shrill cry from the rooster nearly startled him. It wasn’t so quiet as it seemed. So many sounds… strange and new… from all different directions. The smell was new too. Fresh air, untainted by smoke, oil, and garbage. He tipped his head back, filling his lungs with the sweet cool air. For the first time in his life he felt unstifled. He felt… free.

Perhaps it wasn’t so bad after all, leaving the city and starting over. It could all be the start of a great adventure, if he would just give it a chance. He was frightened, half-resentful, and maybe even a little angry. But above all he was curious, and he was excited. What thirteen-year old boy wouldn’t be? Provided he was in his right mind, of course. And Joshua Campbell was certainly that. In his right mind and with a ravenous appetite too.

Squinting through the semi-darkness, Josh scanned the little barnyard, running his eyes over the outhouse, the tool shed, the chicken house, and the barn. He sighed a little, not seeing anything remotely resembling a doghouse. Of course, they had already told him they didn’t have a dog. But a doghouse would’ve given a body a reason to hope, if nothing else.

With a deep breath, he skipped off the porch and made his way in a straight and determined line to the towering doors of the barn. It was an old barn and badly in need of paint, but it was generously-sized and solidly built. With only a moment’s hesitation, Joshua slowly pushed the heavy doors aside. They moved with no more difficulty than a slight protesting screech of rusted metal hinges. He stepped inside, blinking in the dusty darkness as he looked and listened for signs of life. Somewhere inside someone was cheerily whistling a familiar tune, accompanied by the clatter of metal pails.

In another moment Rob sauntered slowly into view, the flashlight tucked askew under his arm and a pail of milk in each hand. He set the buckets down when he saw Josh standing there, switching off the flashlight and moving to throw the doors fully open, allowing the meager dawn light to stream into the barn.

“Good morning,” he grinned. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good.”

“I let you sleep in today,” Rob glanced at the sun. “I’ll show you how to do everything, of course, and I’ll let you get worked into it, but you’ll be given a share of chores, of course. I wasn’t expecting a boy your age, but we’ll work it out and find something for you to do.”

“What do you want me to do?” Joshua shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his worn overalls, staring up at Rob expectantly.

“Well, let’s see now.” Rob frowned as if in deep thought, rubbing his hand over his chin. “I think it’d be best if you looked the farm over, got a feel for everything we do, and then chose a couple of chores for yourself. Sound fair?”

“Sounds fair.”

Josh was mostly silent as Rob showed him over the farm… listening and watching, eyes filled with curiosity, but remarking little. Only asking a few questions here and there. He stared at the cows, eyed the pigs thoughtfully, and frowned at the chickens. But his eyes glowed at the sight of the tractor, as rattletrap and worn down as it was.

“This old gal has gotten me through many a planting and harvest,” Rob slapped the fender affectionately. “Poor thing’s practically eaten through with rust in places and probably won’t be holding out much longer… got ‘er cheap, second-hand, at an auction. Before the market crashed.”

“Will you get a new one if this one goes out?”

“Nah. Probably couldn’t afford it. It’d take years to save up enough, at the rate we’re going.” Rob pushed his hat back on his forehead and sighed. “No, I’d probably end up using the horses.”

“Horses?” Josh looked around eagerly and Rob pointed. 

“Just over there. Last stall on the right. Time to take ‘em out to pasture too. Brown one’s Dan, grey one’s Lou. That was Myra’s idea, named her after the First Lady herself. Wanted to change Dan’s name to Herbert, just to match with Lou, but I put my foot down. No horse of mine is going to be named Herbert. Gotta keep his dignity, y’know. Else how would I get him to work?” 

Joshua laughed.

“Anything you’ve taken interest in?” Rob gestured grandly around the barn.

“I…” Joshua spoke slowly and hesitantly, his brow creased. “I don’t know. I… like the pigs, I guess. And the horses, of course. Maybe I’d like to milk a cow.”

“Well, we’ll figure it out. I’m gonna wrap it up now because I smell bacon. And let me tell you, son, bacon is a treat. No matter how many times we have it. And today’s breakfast is extra special. We’re celebrating today.”

“We are?”

“Course we are. We’ve got you now, haven’t we?” He clapped a hand on the boy’s shoulder, grinning. “And isn’t that cause enough for celebrating?”

Josh didn’t answer, but he smiled faintly as they walked towards the house.

“D’you have porridge a lot?” he asked suddenly, his eyes flickering with both worry and distaste.

Rob made a face, then leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially. “Just between you’n me, porridge is horse food, eh? Not fit for human consumption. You won’t be getting any of that here!”

Joshua grinned, lifting his head a little higher. Rob glanced at the boy as they walked together, noting his ragged overalls and battered cap. His mind darted to the dusty glass jar under the bed, half-filled with coins and crumpled bills. It wasn’t much… no one could really save anything these days… but surely it was enough to get the boy a decent pair of boots and a pair or two of jeans or overalls.