TDTLBU Chapter Ten

"If we're gonna get this done, and done right, I move we choose a chief." Emma was perched on the porch railing, swinging her legs carelessly. The "Cavalry" as Rob had so termed the Stewart children and their neighborhood friends were gathered around her. They had originally been the Rough Riders because, as Rob said, they were rowdy, noisy little hooligans. But Emma had protested, insisting upon a more dignified term and so Cavalry they had become and Cavalry they had remained. Josh had been quickly inducted into the Cavalry and, in attempt to challenge Emma on her railing, was dangling from the porch roof by his fingertips. She ignored him royally. 

"But Ronnie's already chief," Katie interposed.

"I second the motion," Josh called out, swinging to the ground in what he perceived to be a rather impressive landing. 

"All in favor say aye," Ronnie added, without argument. Although Emma was normally the spokesperson at meetings of the Cavalry, Ronnie was the accepted and undisputed leader. Well, undisputed until Josh came along. He never challenged him outright, for he stood somewhat in awe of the older boy, but he often simply assumed the lead. And he fondly hoped to be elected chief for the project at hand. 

"All in favor of Josh leading, say aye!" Josh called out loudly. 

"Go ahead," Ronnie grinned as the cavalry unanimously seemed to hesitate. "I wanna see Josh take charge." 

And so it was that Josh was elected, in spite of protestations from the girls. Particularly loud ones too, on Emma's part. 

"Ten-SHUN!!" Josh bellowed. "Fall in place, men! And girls too! Shoulder your weapons!" 

On command, the cavalry picked up paint brushes and buckets, marching after Josh in single file line. Katie struggled with a heavy bucket, straggling along behind. In a completely unusual and unexpected show of gallantry, Jerry doubled back to take her bucket.

"You have to shoulder it," he told her, lifting the bucket with great effort onto his shoulder. "Like this. See?"

"But it's not a weapon," Katie giggled, flushing slightly. 

"Sure it is. It is the only weapon with which to vanquish our enemy. Look!" And he pointed, dramatically, towards the high railed fence separating the Stewart's pasture from the Hayes’. 

"Alright men," Josh drew himself up importantly in front of the little company. "The mission is this: whitewash this fence, and… then we can go swimming!" He lost his military dignity at the end, overwhelmed in his anticipation. Before coming to the country, he had never been swimming and he had been learning all summer. By now, he was good enough to nearly beat Ronnie in laps across the swimming hole. He was anxious to be the actual victor now, once and for all.

"This will take all summer," Lissie sighed, her face falling.

"Not if we do it right," Ronnie set down his buckets of whitewash. "It's simple. Dad said we only have to do this stretch today. It's too hot to work too hard. Spread out, everyone, and we should get this done pretty fast."

“Let’s just hope that Mickey doesn’t escape.” Emma rolled her eyes as she pried open a bucket. “Heaven knows what sort of trouble he could manage to cook up here.” 

“Couldn’t be as much trouble as Josh and Jerry will be,” Lissie knelt beside her as she began on the lowest plank of the fence. “They make me nervous.”

“Oh, they’ve just never grown up, that’s all. I don’t think they ever will.”

“ ‘Scuse me!” Jerry yelled from his section of fence. “Just wait’ll we’re all taller than you are! Then you’ll see “grown up”!”

“Being tall isn’t an accomplishment,” Emma shot back. “It’s intelligence that marks maturity.”

“Says who?”

“Ignore him,” Emma muttered to Lissie. “Did you read that book I loaned you? Pygmalion?”

The morning passed swiftly and, for the most part, the Cavalry worked well. In spite of the fact that every half hour or so, Josh felt the need to pick up a paint brush and chase Jerry with it. Or vice versa. It was during one of these wild races that Jerry somehow got mud mixed into the whitewash and Ronnie sent him back to the house to wash off his brush and get clean paint. With Jerry momentarily gone, Josh turned his attention to the girls, stalking up behind them as silently as a predatory tiger waiting to pounce on unsuspecting prey. 

“The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain,” Emma was remarking in a snooty voice as she swept her brush over the fence with neat and efficient strokes.

“Does it?” Josh was only a few inches behind them by that point, speaking so suddenly and loudly that Lissie gasped and jumped. But Emma never flinched. “Is it gonna rain here?” Josh added as Lissie stood up, dismally wringing whitewash out of the hem of her old calico skirt.

“The shallow depression in the west of these islands is likely to move slowly in an easterly direction,” Emma answered without hesitation. “There are no indications of any great change in the barometrical situation.”

“Eh, if you say so,” Josh shrugged. Mindless of the fresh paint, he swung himself up onto the top railing of the fence, taking his paint bucket along with him. Painstakingly, he set it on his head and, arms spread wide for balance, teetered along the fence rail. 

"I don't think it's such a very wonderful thing to walk a little, low, board fence," Emma crossed her arms and stuck her nose in the air. "I knew a girl in Marysville who could walk the ridgepole of a roof."

“Where’s Marysville?” No sooner had the words left Josh’s mouth than he slipped, his feet flying out from under him. A loud crash and a thud followed by a groan announced the results of that sorry incident. Josh picked himself up slowly, looking rather like a half-melted snowman. He glanced ruefully at his now-white overalls and back at Emma, who was laughing fit to split.

“You’re in for it now,” Ronnie laughed. “You oughta see yourself. Josh the human paintbrush.”

“Human paintbrush, eh?” Emma grinned, winking at her brother. 

“You’re smarter than I gave you credit for,” Ronnie added as Josh clambered back over the fence, moving slowly in his paint-sodden clothes. “This is a much faster way to paint fences.” So saying, he grabbed Josh’s collar and pushed his head against the railing, leaving an oddly-shaped smear of dirty whitewash. Breaking away from his grip, Josh seized Ronnie and the two of them went down together, crashing sideways against the fence and nearly toppling another bucket. By the time they had gotten on their feet again, it was nearly impossible to tell which one had originally dropped a bucket on his head. It was a mercy that Jerry had just narrowly missed the disaster, only just now returning from his mission.

“You know what this means?” Josh grinned gleefully and turned to flip into a cartwheel. “We getta go swimming early! C’mon, Jerry, race you!” 

✯✯✯

“Mornin’, Rob,” Jim leaned casually over the freshly-whitewashed fence. “Kids sure did a good job on this last week, didn’t they? Thought they’d never get this finished. Took ‘em long enough. How’re the crops coming?”

“Pretty good,” Rob yanked off his cap and drew his sleeve across his damp forehead. “Heat’s bad though.”

“Gonna be a hot summer,” Jim agreed. “Sure not looking forward to August.” He made a face. “Might just have to join the boys someday up at the swimming hole.”

“Man, that sounds good,” Rob sighed reminiscently. “Those days we spent out there as kids are some of the best memories of my life.”

“Yeah.” Jim sounded somewhat detached. He stared down at the ground a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. “Was reading the paper this mornin’...”

“Yeah?”

“What d’ya think of what’s goin’ on over there in Europe?”

“What exactly?”

“Oh, this Hitler over in Germany and all the stuff he’s supposedly doing.”

“You know,” Rob frowned. “I’ve been worrying about that myself. They say he’s been really bothering the Jews in Germany. Threatening to remove their citizenships.”

“Imagine… persecuting God’s own people.” Jim shook his head. “It’s an ill wind that blows no good.”

“Think anything’ll come of it?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Jim shrugged and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Most likely he’ll run the Jews out of the country. But they’ll be safe in France or Belgium or anywhere else he’s not governing. Not likely that it’ll have an effect on anyone else. If it gets any more serious, it’ll end up like the Trail of Tears… one race taking prejudice on another and getting rid of them.”

“You and I know from experience how bad the Germans can be,” Rob shifted instinctively to lean his weight on his good leg, resting the other on the bottom rail of the fence. “Think another war could come out of it?”

“Oh… maybe a few skirmishes over in Europe. Just flare-ups of the old conflict.” Jim shook his head. “It’d never even come close to the Great War. Nothing ever will. Until… well… Armageddon, I guess.”

“Let’s hope so.” Rob lapsed into silence a moment, glancing out past the fields to the Stewarts’ backyard where lively shrieks could be heard. The children had gotten up a game of baseball and he could barely see them from where he stood. Josh was running wildly around the bases. Ronnie had the ball and was racing after him, while Emma jumped up and down, cheering loudly. There were half a dozen other kids out there, all screaming as Ronnie swiftly overtook Josh and tagged him out. 

“Don’t want those kids to ever have to live through even a fraction of what we did.” 

"That's why we fought the war. To make the world a safe and better place for them."

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