Entry #551248, added on 11-24-07 @ 5:06 am EST
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| The Bay Road Legacy Chapter 6 A week Gone By | Entry #551248 |
THE BAY ROAD LEGACY
Chapter Six
A Week Gone By
When you sit down to eat breakfast, on a day that has started with several hundred large and noisy animals, grazing on marigolds and pansies in your back yard, you tend to eat quickly. And so it was on this day. We left the kitchen, still holding on to the last bite of toast, to join in the activities about to take place in our driveway. A week had gone by since we first came to the driveway of our new home. It was just one week ago that we were held captive in our car by a thunderstorm, and after leaving the car, entered the house to find only darkness. A week since we spent our first night huddled together in the living room, listening to the moans and groans of the old house weathering another storm. How things had changed. Now we were a part of our surroundings. The house, the strange noises, the odd occurrences, and even these animals were all a part of what we were. We were a family, adjusting to the fullest measure of life on Bay Road.
Not knowing what we could do to help with the animals, we stood to one side as each animal was led into a confined walkway. Very unceremoniously each animal was sprayed with a solution of chemicals to eliminate ticks and other parasites. The next step involved a quick brushing and then the beasts were forced into a very confining pen, where each of them, snorting, bleating, and bellowing with indignation was carefully injected with a series of very large needles. The animals were being vaccinated against disease. Just like every other known creature, they were not enjoying the treatment. Dusty, on the other hand seemed to be quite contented, sitting by the end of the pens and watching each of the large beasts whimper as they endured the treatment. If only he could have spoken up, I think he would have said it serves you right for eating the pansies.
As each animal exited the pens, they were led one by one across Bay Rd to the field which we had just finished cutting. They found some reward for their ordeal, gently grazing on the last of the new mown hay. The process of tending the animals occupied all of the morning, and into the mid afternoon, before it was completed. When we had stopped for lunch, I saw my uncle walking and talking with Mr. Roberts. The two men had walked to the north side of the house, and Jimmy was pointing up to the window, that had become an object of mystery and concern. It was plain to me that Jimmy was telling Mr. Roberts about our experience with the window and perhaps more of our first week’s happenings. The men laughed and talked for a long while. As they finished their conversation, I saw them both laugh, and Uncle Jimmy, looking up at the old window, simply shrugged his shoulders, seemingly resigned that the problem window would remain as it was. I am sure that Mr. Smith was aware of the problem, and had informed Jimmy of some past efforts to repair it. I wondered what else he may have told my uncle.
That afternoon, when all of the work was done, and the farm hands had left, and after mother’s garden had been doubled in size and carefully replanted with new flowers, Jimmy had a new lesson for my brother and I. “Okay boys, get your guns and come with me” he said. “Before we go, make sure that Dusty is inside, so we won’t upset him.” “Today I want you boys to learn a new lesson about guns, and I do not ever want you to forget it”. Jimmy was very stern in his delivery of this warning. We walked off toward the shooting area, when Jimmy turned and asked us to follow him into the lower level of the horse barn. Once inside he urged us to stand quietly and watch for rats. He tossed several small stones into the corners where he felt they may be hiding. Soon, several rats appeared. “Very carefully now, I want each of you to aim at a rat. When you’re sure that you have him in your sight, shoot him.” Slowly, ever so slowly we waited until we each had a target in sight. Bang, bang, the shots rang out. Both shots reached their mark, and we next, walked over to inspect the rats. One rat, my rat had been hit, but still lived. It lay on its’ back, and was obviously in pain. “So,” said Jimmy, now you have to shoot him again. What I want you boys to learn today, is that you never, never, aim a gun at, or shoot at, anything that you do not want to kill. Guns, while they can be fun to own and use for target practice, have really only one purpose, and that is to kill. Now, I want you to pickup that rat, and take him outside and finish the job, and I want you both to know that killing, is not easy. It may be necessary at some point in your life, but I hope it never will be. If you have to kill, make sure that it is done right. Never leave your target to suffer. You own guns now, not toys, and that gives you a step into manhood. I am proud of both of you and I want you to know that you each have responsibility for your actions.
Your mother and father have been through a lot, and they will both need your help as you grow up. You are both old enough to know that there is a lot going on in this old house, and I want you boys to know that I think your mother is right, that there is nothing in this house that will hurt you, but, I would feel more comfortable knowing that you are both able to handle the responsibility that comes with owning a gun.” We went outside with the wounded rat, and lay him on the ground. One shot and it was done. We knew that rats carried disease and fleas, and that they were pests, especially in the huge number that existed on the farm, but, Jimmy’s words made the KILL seem more real to each of us. Up to now it had been hit the can, now it was kill. This lesson would last a life time, and would bear heavy on us in the days and weeks ahead. Before the lesson was over, we dispatched, eliminated, disposed of, killed one more rat each, and then went back to the house. The produce that we had ordered for the next days sale at the farm stand had been delivered and we went to work putting it all away. It was late afternoon and Father would be coming home soon. The sky had grown gray and overcast, and just as he was pulling into the driveway, it began to rain.
Supper was unusually quiet that evening, with the sound of rain falling on the old house. After the table was cleared, and with the day turning into night, we once again sat out on the old porch. Father spoke of his new job, and of having made friends with another man who lived just a short distance from us. Like us he and his wife had only recently moved into town, and they were adjusting to life in an old house on Glen St. Did they have any ghosts, like we do? None that he mentioned, but he did invite us to come over and see their place soon. The man had told father that he has a cross, about twenty feet tall in his back yard. Mother said she would rather have seen a cross, than hundreds of animals any day.
The rain began to fall heavier and thunder was heard in the distance. Mother and my aunt got up from the porch and went into the house. After a few minutes, they returned, with mother carrying one of the old oil lamps, just in case the lights go out again. We all recounted the past Thursday nights story for my uncle’s benefit. Within minutes, the storm grew louder and more intense. We were all forced to leave the porch, and we gathered in the living room. Just as we sat down, the lights with an almost expected happening, first dimmed, and then went out. The light of the oil lamp was casting its’ reflections on a much different gathering than a week before. With laughter, more lamps were brought in and lit, and the chimney flue was checked to see that no rain would enter. At once, as we were again seated to await the end of the storm, a sudden wind started the whole house shaking. As in the past, sounds from above seemed to be growing in frequency, but appeared to be more muffled than before. The rattling of windows and the falling of the rain were becoming louder when all at once a loud thud from above was heard. Jimmy, without hesitation, and with father following quickly ran down the hall and up the stairs to find the source of the noise. We heard the two men go from room to room at the front of the house, followed by another scream that sounded like it was a woman’s voice. We could not wait any longer, and so up we went, all of us climbing the stairs to the second floor. At the end of the hallway standing just outside the door to the small bedroom, were my father and uncle, looking at disbelief at the specter inside the room. The door to the room had blown open, creating the loud noise that we heard. Inside the room, the rocking chair was rocking back and forth in an almost violent and uncontrolled manner. With each flash of light from the storm, there appeared to be a silhouette of a woman, and with each blast of wind, a fearful scream came from the direction of the chair in the corner of the room in front of the windows. As we stood there, speechless and in awe, the rocking stopped. The noise ended, and the room fell quiet. It could not have been more than a minute or two, before the whole house turned quiet. The storm was over, the rain had stopped, and as we reached the bottom of the stairs, the lights came on.
What we had seen, heard, and experienced was all the conversation that would take place on that night. My uncle again questioned if we should be living in this house, and each of us, Father, mother and all agreed that this was our house, and whatever old things are in it just better get used to us being around. As for Uncle Jimmy, he was still glad that he owned a gun, and assured us it would be close by him this night.
We went off to bed a little later that night, and after we had climbed into bed, Dusty made his rounds checking again to see that all was well before he curled up for the night in front of the window at the end of the hallway. This was his space every night since he arrived, and a ritual that we would grow very use to. The house was again still and the only sound was that of night birds singing, punctuated by an occasional owl. The windows were opened to let the smell of sweet grass enter on the damp evening air. Sleep came easy; it had been a full day.
In the morning, no mention was made of the prior night’s events. No mention of ghosts, and it appeared that this day would go well for each of us. Mother said the old man that she had seen a week before was up early and had walked into the barn. She said that she wondered just what it was that he had to do there so early in the morning. Jimmy said that after his breakfast he would take Dusty out for a walk, and check up on the old guy to find out what he was working on and maybe he would even give him a hand. My brother and I were on our way to open up our farm stand for the day, with hopes of big cash rewards for our efforts. My sister, once again complained of loosing, or misplacing her watch. I suggested that she might look in the little bedroom. Her response was “No way, if it’s back in there, then it may as well stay there, I am not going in to look for it. She must have had it on, the night before, because several hours later on in the day, when mother and my aunt went into the little room to have a look around, Joan’s watch was right there in the middle of the bed, in plain sight. I can honestly say I do not recall seeing it the night before, nor do I recall Joan going into that room during the storm.
The farm stand opened for business at about nine thirty, and before noon, we had sold only one dozen ears of corn, and little else. We were very anxious about the lack of business, and were expecting that we would be eating corn for days to come. At one-o-clock our second customer arrived and then our third. In a few more minutes, we had several cars lined up along Bay Rd, and were very busy, bagging up the farm fresh produce. As it turned out, the people who shopped at the stand were mostly people who had cottages at the lake, and they depended on being able to stop on their way to the lake to buy farm fresh goods. Before days end, we would sell out of virtually everything, and it was easily four o clock, when mother came down to get a dozen ears of corn for supper. It was too late. We were all out of corn, would she like some fresh squash instead. She insisted that we take her quarter for the squash, since business was business, and then we closed up for the day. The total sales, were, much to our delight a bit over 100 dollars. Why with all that money, we were rich. All we had to do was pay for the items that we had sold. Mother had kept track of the delivery, and paid for the produce herself, so we owed mother, the grand total of 76 dollars, and, she added twenty five cents for the loan of her money. Her lesson to us was very subtle, but then as she said business is business.
Jimmy returned with Dusty, having been out and about on his own for most of the day. We asked him what the old man had been working on in the barn. He told us that he looked every where and could not find a trace of the old guy. He must be just dropping stuff off or getting something that he needed, was the conclusion. Mother said that the next time she saw him going in, or out she would point him out to us and we could follow him ourselves. He did seem like a nice old man, was her observation. Until now, mother was the only person to have seen the old man. Father returned from work, just after five and we enjoyed a great meal, complete with fresh farm grown squash. After supper, Uncle Jimmy offered to treat us to dessert, at the nearby ice cream shop, and he said, “you can have anything that you want.”
We drove up to the shop, and entered, again being greeted by our now favorite waitress. “Well boy am I glad to see all you folks still here” she said. How is it going, are you all settled into the old house now, Is it fun living way out there in that old place, what can I get for you tonight?” She never waited for answers to her questions, just pumped them out like a machine and moved on to the next one. She quickly went around the table writing down our requests, and as she got to Uncle Jimmy, she stood next to him and asked my father, ”what would your brother like tonight?” Father at first looked surprised and recalled the mention of Rumania from a week before. Oh, you can ask him, he does speak some English. She apologized for being so silly, and uncle Jimmy, being in a light mood, just as quickly, pointed to a picture on the menu, asking in very broken English, “this thing in the picture, what is it,” with his finger pointing to a large banana split. The waitress tried to explain in a very careful manner how a banana split was made. Jimmy kept up the charade, by asking how the banana was split, was it across the middle or down the back.
The girl was becoming frustrated, and at once decided the best way to explain it was to show him one being made. She took Jimmy’s hand, and in child like speech said to him, “You come with me”. He in turn gave us a wink and followed behind her as she went to the counter and in great detail explained the makings of a banana split. As they returned to the table, Jimmy turned to the glowing young lady, and with the most masterful diction and superb use of the English language, expressed his gratitude. “Young lady“, he said your expertise at making such an elegant and obviously delectable confection shall forever remain a lesson to me in kindness. You have taught an inexperienced stranger the fine art of culinary masterpieces, and shall always be in my thoughts. It is with deep gratitude that I salute you.” She was dumbfounded at the turn of events, and knew at once that she had been misled and spoofed. She blushed, and at once, without a moment’s hesitation she put her arms around him and gave him a big hug. We laughed, and enjoyed every minute of the levity in the evening. Before we left, the girl returned and said she really was glad that we were back, and now, she would have to tell everyone that we were not all Rumanians.
The outing that evening came to an end, and we returned to Bay Rd. As we drove up the road, we could see the light on in the kitchen that had been left on by mother as we went out so we would not return in the dark. The house, in the evening light looked like as peaceful and friendly image of rural America that one might see in a book. When we entered, all was well at the old house. There were no storms expected and we were sure we could again get a good nights rest. We sat for a while and soon bedtime was again announced. First my sister and son, then my brother and I made our way upstairs to bed. Soon after, Uncle Jimmy and my aunt came up, and right behind was Dusty.
Dusty made his rounds, checking everyone in and then he settled down for the night. I had just started to fall asleep, when I was startled to hear voices coming from the back of the house. Dusty snarled, and then barked as if to say stop the noise. The noise however did not stop. In an instant, Dusty stood up and growled at the sounds from the back of the house. I called him to come into the bedroom and he quickly came to me.
The sounds grew louder, and he became quieter. A few minutes went by, and soon Dusty was trying to squeeze his whole body into the few inches of space, beneath my bed. I heard Jimmy get up and the distinctive sound of his gun being cocked for action. He stepped into the hallway, and the sounds stopped. Not wanting to awaken my sister and nephew he returned to his room. A few minutes went by, and again, I was practicing holding my breath, with my ears open to any sounds that might arise. It only took a minute, and once more the voices started. As in the past the voices grew louder, although they were still muffled, and they grew more excited. One more time, Jimmy stepped into the hallway. He stood there for a moment, as if expecting to see something that he did not want to see, and I got out of my bed, to go to the door of my room to see what was going on. He raised his hand, signaling me to stay where I was. The sounds of voices became louder and more agitated, and as Jimmy stood there in the hallway, the unmistakable sound of a single gunshot rang out, followed by a loud scream. My nephew began to cry, and my sister grabbed him up and raced toward my uncle, with her son in his arms. She moved toward my room and Jimmy aimed his gun down the hallway. He had a clear view of anything that might move, and in less than a second, the sounds of running, no, staggering footsteps could be heard in the hall. Again as in the past, the footsteps descended the stairs, half stumbling and moving swiftly. The bell on the front door rang out, and instantly everything was quiet.
We were all up now. Everyone was up and awake and we all went down the stairs to find mother and father standing in their nightgowns in the lower hall. They to had been awakened by the commotion and had gotten up to see what was happening. The house was quiet; there was no rain falling, no breeze, nothing that would explain what had just happened. We were sure that whatever it was, it was over for the night. Jimmy again asked if we really wanted to stay in this house, with things going on that defied every reasonable explanation. Again the answer was yes. We liked this house. This was our house. No way were we going to give way to unseen things that went bump in the night. We knew every inch of this house from top to bottom, and we were going to live in this house. He admired our determination, and agreed that it, whatever it was, was done for the night. We returned to our rooms and when I entered mine I discovered that wonder dog, had again peed on the floor just under my bed. Dusty was dependable, and would not be backed down by hundreds of beasts twenty times his size, but when it came to unseen things, he could not manage the bravado that we had bestowed upon him. “It’s okay Dusty, go back to sleep.”
Saturday morning, and we were all well and had actually gotten a good nights sleep, after a rocky start. We gathered for breakfast, and this being Saturday, Father would not be going of to work. He and Jimmy spent the morning, going into town for some more items for the house. Mother had made out a shopping list, and when the men returned they had purchased everything on it. They also purchased a large barrel bolt of the type that can be locked in place. This was promptly installed on the outside of the small bedroom door, and after my nephew’s bed and chest of drawers were removed from the room, it was locked. Not one of us knew or could guess what secrets that room held inside. We could understand why the previous owner had closed off the room and used it only for storage. The room was declared off limits, unless mother or father was with us. It was to be opened only to get at whatever we may put in there for storage. The only thing that was left in the room was the rocking chair as it would not fit in my sister’s room.
Saturday was a glorious day. We managed to find enough old horse shoes in the barns, and some heavy iron pipe to build a real horseshoe game in the back yard. We played endless games throughout the day, pitting adults against kids. Mother and Father against Uncle and Aunt, men against women. We stopped only long enough for a light lunch, being aware that this was Jimmy’s last day at the farm, and he had promised to treat us all to supper at a new restaurant, that night. We played, we walked, we stopped for fresh lemonade and we were fully into family life on Bay Road. That evening, as promised we were off to a new restaurant, this time, one that featured steak. This steak was very special. This steak had been grown right on our own farm. Mr. Roberts had told Jimmy about the place, and it was terrific. I enjoyed my steak as did each of us, giving little thought to its’ source. I did wonder, had it dined on Pansies or Marigolds?
The evening was calm, the moon rose full and bright, the breeze again smelled of sweet grass, and all was well on Bay Road as bedtime approached once more. A whole week had gone by now and all was well.
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© Copyright 2007 Peter Yule (UN: peteryule at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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