The Blind Child

Rubbing her hands together to ward off the cold, Jeanie felt the roughness between them. It didn't help that they were wet with scrubbing other people clothes in the frigid wash pan, and having to have to hang them out to dry in the winter air. Just keep going she thought to herself, and you'll be okay. Just so Michael can have a nice Christmas and a little something on the table come Christmas morning. After all since John had deserted them a few months before, life had seemed to become almost unbearable, and she would be dammed if Michael was going to have to suffer due to his fathers indiscretions. If it was up to her only she was going to make it and come out on top.
Blowing on her hands only produced more pain with her hands, so she hurriedly finished scrubbing the last few shirts and carried the heavy basket over to the line she had rigged up by the corner of her dilapidated house. It was only baling wire, but it served the purpose. Beggars can't be choosers and she was just short of being one. Her fingers were cramping up with the cold by the time she had pinned the last shirt up, and she tentatively picked up the basket to carry it gingerly inside.
Sitting it down on the floor near the door on the inside she glanced at Michael playing quietly by his rope bed. Made out of corn husks it crackled whenever he turned over in the night changing positions. Jeanie had come to know each sound, he made at night.
Of course according to Doctor Adams, Michael would be blind and live in a night time world forevermore. Being seven years old Michael had faith that he would see again and Jeanie was under no circumstances going to disillusion him. Let him believe in God if that would help him live with his loss. Lord knows he needed something to hang on to.
John had deserted them after Michael had been kicked in the temple area by a horse he had got too close to, and became blind. John never could deal with anyone having handicaps and would never look at his own short comings. Being an only son from a very prominent family had spoiled him, and he had no patience for handicapped people, son or no son.
His parents were just as over bearing and when John had left, they refused to help out in any way. So the house had been sold with the money going to them. Michael and I were without a place to stay.
Being in the goldfields of California on your own and being a woman with a young blind son on your own is not good. So many men around and very few women to speak with. Plus the men seem to think your up for grabs if your alone with no man looking out for you. It's a fearful way to live especially when you have to make your own living. There was no way that I would sleep with the men to get ahead like some were forced to do. Sure they would give you a small pinch of gold, but it wasn't worth it. So I chose to do their washing each week for a mere pittance in pay, but at least I had myself respect and could look my young son in the eyes.
After being tossed out of our home like garbage, Michael and I wandered around for two insufferable cold long days searching for a place to stay. No one would let us in on account of the anger of our in-laws. They said if I had been a proper wife John would not have had to resort to going out of our marriage to get his relief. No one would come to my defense, so I was left to battle it out on my own.
Finally, I had spotted a tar paper shack that had two rooms way back in the hills that looked as if it had been empty for several years. Cleaning it out of the rats and rodents that had taken up residence, was no small feat. All the wooden furniture looked to be in half way good condition and there was a small creek out in back with fresh cold water if we needed it. It wasn't much but it was a place to call home. At least we wouldn't be turned out of it at the whim of overbearing in-laws.
Hearing Michael slowly coming to the table I was jarred out of my reflections as I watched him carefully touch the back of a chair and sit down on it.
Fixing Michael a plate of beans with corn bread I went over and handed the plate to him. Touching his fingers I guided the plate into his hand and gave him his spoon, so he could begin eating. Giving me his sunny smile he started in, all the while talking about his day. He had met a miner by the name of Steven and had sat and talked with him while he waited for me to come home from returning the laundry to its owners. Michael always stayed right around the cabin, since he was fearful of getting lost. At least he was familiar with things in his own area around our home.
As Michael continued telling me about Steven; I fixed my own plate and sat down at the table exhausted with my day. I still had so much to do before going to bed and my energy was at its lowest. I had no idea how I could continue doing everything and still have time for sleep. As it was I still had to go out and take the shirts down on the line before they froze solid.
Mathew sat his plate down and his voice appeared to be getting fainter and fainter. My head dropped down on my arms on the table, and I slept soundly and deeply not realizing that my body had finally sought solace in the only way it knew how. I felt Michael shaking me hard but I just could'nt seem to respond. Then the feeling went away and I felt blessed sleep overtake me in it's peaceful embrace.
Slowly coming awake I heard low voices surfacing around me. Scared, I came up with my fork in my hand, as someone bent over me intending to stab whom ever it was. I knew it wasn't Michael instinctively since his voice sounded further away. Thrusting my fork up I felt hard fingers wrap around my wrist in a painful grip forcing me to drop the fork. I heard Michael yelling to stop, and as I glanced at him, I could tell he wasn't harmed in any way. In trying to get to me. He overturned one of the kitchen chairs and was confused as to which way to go. Not being able to see he just stood there yelling to get my attention.
Looking up at the man holding my wrist in his hard grip, I saw a pair of startling green eyes staring back at me intensely. Still holding onto my wrist; he gently pushed me back into my chair. Then he pulled up the other wooden chair beside me and slowly let go of my hand. Rubbing my wrist with my fingers I burst into tears feeling them slowly running down my cheeks plopping onto the table. I heard my captor get up and move toward Michael leading him over to me. Michael put his young arms around my shuddering form and just held me. My son was turning into a man, and I cried for that too since he was so young. He should be out playing with others not in this cabin day in and day out. What kind of life is that not even being able to run in the sunshine and swim in the creek? How would he make his living as he grew to manhood, who would want to share the life of someone who had no sight? All these thoughts surfaced and just as quickly fled as my son wrapped me in his loving embrace. I knew as a mother I would fight for his right to have happiness as much as any other mother.
Michael spoke softly to me telling me this man was the man he had talked with earlier. His name was Steven and he sat watching me intently capturing my gaze.Pulling out an over large handkerchief for me to wipe the tears off my cheeks he patiently waited for my next reaction. His eyes had a somber expression in them as he watched Michael and I, so I took the handkerchief gratefully and began mopping up my tears. Michael took my plate and fork reaching over to put them in the pan of water on the sink. Moving closer to the sink feeling his way, he pumped water into the pan submerging the dishes. As he began vigorously scrubbing them Steven broke the silence.
"I didn't mean to scare or harm you, I just wanted to help," he said slowly as though he was talking with a slow witted person. At my look of disbelief, he quickly added,"Michael knew where I was mining and quickly came over asking for help." Handing him back his soggy handkerchief, I smiled slowly and glanced over at Michael for confirmation. Nodding his head Michael grinned, proud that he had been able to get help for me all on his own. "I knew I could do it, mom," he replied to my questioning look. "It was scarey at first, but if I don't try I'll never be able to do things on my own." Besides,"he finished,"You baby me too much!' With that he resumed scrubbing dishes stacking them neatly on the baseboard.
My heart felt heavy for knowing what dangers lay out there in wait for a sighted person let alone a small child that was blind. He could have fell down one of the ravines or encountered a bear. All the miners were noted for their rough ways and some were just plain mean living alone so long. Anyone of them could have did my boy harm and he might never have been found until the Spring rains came. Afterall it being  the coldest part of the winter he could very well have frozen to death. My hand went over my heart and Steven must have known the thoughts running through my head. His gaze was intent on the emotions moving across my face and he gave my hand a gentle squeeze in reassurance.
                       
                    Chapter 2

Sitting at the scarred wooden table I pulled my hand away from Stevens and moved away from the table. Steven made no protest and I could see him tense up in readiness, in case I became dizzy. Michael finishing up the dishes came over, grasping the back of the wooden chairs, and led me over to the bed , feeling his way along. I have to admit he did a fine job of it with no promptings on my or Steven's part. How I have no idea. I don't think if our roles had been reversed I could have dealt with it as well as he does, I thought to myself.
Covering me up with a thin blanket, Michael, made his way over to the table again angling his attention on where Steven was building up the fire. Talking in low tones, their voices soon faded out of my mind as I drifted off to sleep yet again. Every once in awhile I would hear a log spit and hiss in the fireplace as the fire consumed it, but my sleep was uninterrupted.
Sometime during the night I rolled over sleepily glancing toward the kitchen while pulling the thin blanket even closer to my body. Seeing Michael on his cot sound asleep, my eyes searched quickly for Steven's whereabouts. Seeing his outline stretched out in front of the fire on the floor with his feet facing the only door, I again relaxed and fell back to sleep, the warmth of the fire warming me.
Waking up to the rattle of pans on the iron range, I sleepily rolled over, to the sight of Michael and Steven bringing in armloads of wood in between checking the vittles cooking on the stove.How Michael managed, I had no idea but he was valiently carrying in and stacking it next to the hearth. Steven glanced over at me grinning and giving me a nod. Whether it was approval for me not saying anything to discourage Michael or not I could not even guess but I held my concerns in tightly. I would never on my own allowed Michael to do that for fear that he would hurt himself in some way. But with Steven around it seemed as if my whole thought process had changed and I didn't know if that was good or bad. Time would tell.
The smell of fried potaoes and fresh coffee started my stomach rumbling and I slowly touched my bare toes to the cold floor. My clothes I had slept in were wrinkled but that would have to suffice as I only had two sets to begin with. Michael and I both were really in a bad way, I knew. Between not having warm clothes and barely enough food I despaired of being self sufficient. Let alone it being the middle of winter, that just added to my daily worries. I knew Steven had to have brought the coffee and potaoes with him and he had to have chopped the wood up himself. When he accomplished this and why had me worried since I had no idea what he had in mind. Someone just didn't reach out a hand for nothing I had learned a long time ago. There was a cost in the end for niceness especially if you were a woman alone. The price could be higher than I wanted to pay and my intention was to find out. But first I wanted something to eat, I was that famished. Why not get my stomach and Michael's full before I turned Michael down on what ever he had in mind.
Michael came in the door with another load of wood, dropping it down on the floor next to the stove with a clatter. His hands freezing, he rubbed them together all the while moving closer to the table as I saw Steven turn from stirring the potatoes on the stove. Just then I heard a crash and a thump as Michael tripped over a chunk of wood and sent it rolling acros the wooden floor toward me. Landing hard Michael caught himself long enough to break his fall and lay there with a look of stunned surprise on his face. Conflicting emotions ran along Stevens face and then he broke up into laughter so hard he couldn't contain it. Picking himself as I rushed toward him, Michael joined in the laughter, absently brushing my concerns for his safety away, and not wanting my attentions. I was miffed over this new side of Michael. All I had wanted was to reassure myself he was okay and here he was laughing hilariously right along with Steven, who seemed not to be overly concerned with my son's safety! I was instantly mad at them both!
Smelling the potatoes burning I grabbed a cloth to take them off of the stove, turning my back on the both of them, afraid of what would come out of my mouth. Counting to ten several times, I finally regained control over my thoughts and plunked the skillet of potatoes down on the table hard.

Using an old cloth I walked over and took the blue enamel coffee pot off the stove and filled the two blue granite cups already waiting expectantly by our plates. I saw that Steven must have a milk cow somewhere because there was a granite metal jug of fresh milk still frothy on top sitting square in the middle of the table. What a special delight, it had been at least 4 months since Michael or I had even had a drink of it! Just thinking about it gave me a secret burst of happiness. Little things that we used to take for granted now had become big things. I just hoped Michael hadn't made a nuisance of himself in asking all kinds of questions while I was sleeping.

After all of us were seated Michael gave his custamary grace before I started passing the bowls around. Starting to pick up Michaels plate to fill it with food, Steven reached over to take it out of my hand gently. Giving him a questioning glance I took it back saying," I was fixing Michael's plate since he can't see." "I know Michael's blind but he isn't dead and needs to learn how to cope without his sight." "He's capable of fixing his own plate." With that he turned toward Michael saying," Here's your plate, Michael" touching Michael's fingers to his plate. Grasping the plate, Michael held it as Steven continued in a patient voice, "The bowls are on your left, there are two of them and when your done putting what you want on your plate, please pass them to me on your right, okay?" "By the way the milk jug is right by your glass about two inches from the top of where you will place your plate back on the table." "you can tell by the edge of the table where to put your plate down." Michael sat listening to Steven concentrating hard on what was said as he held on tightly to his empty plate. "Michael, would you rather I fixed your plate for you?" I said seeing the confused look come across his face. Glancing up at Steven I could tell he was upset and thought I should have stayed out of it but Michael is my son and Steven as far as I was concerned had no rights butting in! Not waiting for Michael to answer I reached over to take his plate but Michael held on with brute strenthg in his little hands. "No!" "I can do it!" "If Steven thinks I can, I can!" "Let me do it!" Dropping my hand back to my lap the silence after Michael's outburst was terrible to feel. I glared at Steven with barely concealed malice that he had such a hold on my son. For pity's sake my son was blind, he didn't need to fail at things if I could make it easier for him! Steven was expecting to much out of him at seven years old!
For the time being I kept my thoughts to myself and surprisingly the meal went smoothly with Michael fixing his own plate. Some of his food ended up off the side of his plate and some of it ended up mixed on top of each other but he did it! I could tell that Steven was happy that at least he was trying but it was so hard for me to sit and just watch. Michael himself, was so happy that all he could do was laugh and giggle as he spooned the food into his mouth. After awhile his humor was contagious and I had to join in. I hadn't saw him smile in so long that it was a relief to sit back and hear it!
Cleaning up after supper all of us joined in still feeling happy to do the dishes and Michel insisted on putting them on their respective shelves. I had not seen Michael so happy and talking non stop with another person like he did with Steven. Steven kept glancing at me probably checking to see if I was still upset with him over Michael fixing his own plate. I had decided that I had been wrong in jumping in to stop Michael from his first show of independence since he had been blinded. Maybe I should let him do things on his own instead of always jumping up to do everything for him. I was so mixed up in my way of thinking, all I know is mothers tend to shield their young and with his blindness, I had went overboard.





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