Finding Will Hennie Page 7

  “Miss Marylee, after lunch, Mr. Tom is going to take me fishing. When it cools off we’ll pitch a few balls.”

  “Yes, I know. Playing ball with you keeps Tom young inside. You’ve brought so much joy to all the boarders in the four years you’ve been with us. What a blessing you’ve been. I find myself wishing you were still that eight-year-old that I found at the table that morning. But I know you have to grow up. I just don’t think I’ll be able to stand it when you’re a grown man.” She tucked her head and mumbled, “If I live that long.”

  “Miss Marylee, I wish you wouldn’t talk like that. You’re going to be around for many years. You’ve got to get me through high school. You promised. So just get it in your head to stay here with me.”

  “I sure will, son. Which brings me to this year’s schooling. “Twelve-years-old and you’re ready for high school. That’s quite an accomplishment.”

  “You’re a good teacher and you make learning fun. But I’ve been wondering about something. Since the school has opened up again, are you going to start teaching a classroom?”

  “No. I think I’ll just stay with teaching you. I’ve got money saved up and I don’t really need the income, so why should I? What nobody knows, and you need not tell either, is I came from what’s called ‘old money,’ which means my parents left me a nice sum. Pa didn’t trust banks, which turned out to be a good thing when the depression came along.”

  Will intently listened to Miss Marylee. She had never wanted to talk about her life before and he wondered why she was opening up now.

  “Brother bought himself a big farm. Then he got married and had two boys. It was the saddest day of my life when his sweet wife died from Typhoid. My nephews were only six and four years old. I moved in with him and raised his boys. It broke my heart when they grew up. When the depression hit, they heard about jobs in California, so they packed up the truck and took off. Two years later, Brother got killed when a horse kicked him in the head. I just about lost my mind from grief. So I moved into the boarding house. I couldn’t look at anything that reminded me of the years I spent with him and my nephews.”

  “I’m so sorry about all that. I know you had to be very sad.”

  “I was indeed. I never saw another happy day until you came along.” She wiped her eyes and squeezed Will’s hand again. “I still get letters from my nephews from time to time. They have good lives and I’m happy for them.”

  Will wasn’t sure what to say, so he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I’m glad you’re not going back to the classroom. That would mean I’d have to go to school, but I don’t want any teacher but you. And I like having you all to myself.”

  “Going to school would be good for you. It would give you a chance to mingle with children your own age. You need to make friends with the children of the neighborhood and do things with them.”

  “I’ve played kick the can with them. But to tell the truth, the boys act stupid. And if you think my cuss words are bad, you should hear what they say. They’re pure vulgar. And girls! Oh, forget that! All they do is act silly and giggle all the time. They get on my good nerves. I wasn’t going to tell you this, but Nellie Brown tried to get me to kiss her. I’m not about to kiss a silly girl. She can forget it! So you need not worry about me mingling with that lot.”

  “I had no idea how the boys were acting and talking. Heaven’s sake! I still let you get by with a few cuss words, but I won’t stand for vulgarity!” She paused a minute, then laughed. “As for the girls, well, they won’t seem as silly to you in a few years. You might find yourself liking them enough to give one a little kiss.”

  “That won’t ever happen! I can tell you that for sure!”

  Miss Marylee chuckled.

  They made their way home, and when they went through the front door, Mr. Tom was coming downstairs. “Howdy, Will. You go get yer belly full, change clothes, then we’re off to the river. I’ve got our poles ready and I dug us a can full of fishin’ worms. It’s such a hot day the fish might not be bitin’, but we can always enjoy stretchin’ out on the bank of that mighty Missipp.”

  “Yes sir! I love to lay back on the bank and listen to your tall tales.”

  “Go on eat and get ready! I’ll be out on the porch.”

  Will hurried upstairs, changed into his fishing clothes, then ran back downstairs and into the kitchen, where he found Berta sipping on iced tea. “Berta, I know it’s Sunday, which means everybody fends for themselves. So I’m going to find me some cold chicken. Did you pick any tomatoes?”

  “Nope. Sunday is my day off. You go pick yer own tomatoes. I asked that confounded ol’ cuss to go pick me a few, but we know how that went. He’s sound asleep. That good-for-nothin’ can sleep ‘round the clock.”

  “It’s Sunday, Berta. Everybody naps. Except Mr. Tom and me. We fish and play ball.”

  “Like I don’t know that after all these years. You better not make a mess and go off and leave it. You know better!”

  Will hugged Berta’s neck. “Do I ever leave a mess? I’m not a confounded ol’ cuss.” He kissed her cheek.

  Berta laughed and her belly jiggled. “I know. I just like to yank ya around a bit. You know how I fuss at ya, just ‘cause I can.” She pulled him to her and gave him a peck on the cheek.

  Will wiped his hand over his cheek. “Stop it, Berta! You’re acting like a silly girl.”

  Berta laughed. “You ain’t wipin’ it off, you’s rubbin’’ it in. You ain’t foolin’ me.”

  Will laughed and headed out the back door and on to the garden, where he pulled six tomatoes. He figured that Berta would eat at least three.

  Soon Will and Mr. Tom were off to the river. They put their lines in the water, but after thirty minutes they hadn’t gotten a bite.

  “Mr. Tom, them shittin’ fish ain’t gonna bite. I think they’re layin’ on the bottom to keep cool. We ain’t havin’ no damn luck at all.”

  Mr. Tom chuckled. “Will, if Miss Marylee hears ya talkin’ that kind of grammar and cussin’, she’ll have a piece of yer hide.”

  Will laughed and lay back on the bank. “Well, do ya see her around?”

  Mr. Tom turned his head from left to right, then looked behind him. “Nope. Don’t see hide nor hair of ’er. I reckon we can just be men. Women just don’t understand us men. And I ain’t never understood a woman and never will. I don’t ‘spect you ever will either, so don’t waste yer time. Just nod and go on about yer business.” Mr. Tom stretched out by Will and before long he was snoring.

  Will closed his eyes and memories of the past four years flood his mind. He pictured the first Christmas at the boarding house. He ran downstairs, ready for breakfast, but nobody was sitting at the dining table. They were standing around the tree and each of them was holding a fancy wrapped box out to him. “What in tarnation?” he asked.

  “Open them, Will,” Miss Marylee said, urging him forward. “I’ll read the tag to you and that’s who the present is from. Then you say ‘thank you.’”

  Will ripped open the presents and he wasn’t sure he was breathing as he took out knitted neck scarfs, gloves, wool caps, rubber boots and a heavy coat. He wasn’t even sure if he remembered to said thank you after Miss Marylee read the tags.

  Later that afternoon, it started snowing. Miss Marylee made sure that Will was bundled up in his winter Christmas presents, then he and Mr. Tom went outside to play in the snow. Mr. Tom showed him how to build a snowman, and Berta brought out a carrot to use for its nose and some black buttons for its eyes and mouth. Will was awestruck. After he admired the snowman, Mr. Tom pelted him with a snowball.

  Will smiled as more memories flashed though his mind. His fondest memories were gathering around the old radio and listening to Fibber McGee and Molly. Mr. Tom laughed so hard he’d almost fall out of his chair when Fibber opened a closet and everything fell on his head.

  They also listened to George Burns and Gracie Allen. Miss Marylee listened to them, and she thought they were
funny. Will wasn’t too fond of Jack Benny, but the other boarders laughed, so Will laughed with them. His favorite time to listen to the radio was on Saturday night. He loved the music on the Grand Ole Opry, and Jim Bob playing along on his banjo.

  Will looked toward the sky and said, “It’s been a great four years, Gram. I don’t think it can get any better. Do you?”

  He could have sworn that he felt Gram rumple his hair. She hadn’t done that since he moved into the boarding house. “Mr. Cloud Man. Excuse me. Miss Marylee said I’m supposed to call you God. I just want to thank you.”

  Chapter Eight

  Will and Mr. Tom headed back to the boarding house. They hadn’t caught any fish but they’d had an enjoyable day just talking and looking at the beauty of the Mississippi River. Two boats had come by, and as usual, Will stood, raised his arms into the air and waved. He heard loud toots from the boats each time, and knew the tooting was the boat captain’s way of saying hello to him.

  When they got back to the boarding house, Will waved at Jim Bob, who was sitting under the elm, playing his banjo. “Hi, Jim Bob.”

  Jim Bob merely nodded.

  “Mr. Tom, I’ve been here a long time and Jim Bob has never said a word to me. As a matter of fact, I don’t remember ever hearing him talk to anybody. Do you think that’s because he’s deaf? That’s what Berta says.”

  “Jim Bob is a strange bird, Will. To tell the truth, I think he’s a bit touched in the head. But there was one time when I got a few words outta him. I asked him if he was feelin’ alright. He seemed to be havin’ a hard time breathin’. He said he’d been born poorly and the doctor told his ma that he’d always be poorly and t’wasn’t nothin’ that could be done ‘bout it. I still speak to him and he nods. I think he likes it. The ladies just ignore him and act like they might catch somethin’ if’n they get too close. Silly women. Ain’t no understandin ’em, I done told ya that.”

  “Well, I’m gonna start talking to him. He might hear me and have something to say. Maybe he’s just shy. Or, he could be touched in the head like you said, but that doesn’t mean he should be shunned. He’s got feelings, too.”

  “That he does. Now, you take the can out back and pump it full of water until you get all the dirt and the smell of dead worms out of it. I’ll take the fishin’ gear up to my room and stick it in the corner. I know Miss Marylee will have a fit if you drag somethin’ else into her chambers.”

  “I’ll get the can taken care of, Mr. Tom.” Just as Will was about to round the corner of the house, he heard Miss Marylee talking to Mr. Tom. He stood and carefully listened.

  “Tom, I need a favor. Please take Will off somewhere and keep him out of the boarding house for a good hour. Miss Ethel passed this afternoon. The undertaker is coming for her and I don’t want Will to see them take her out. And he doesn’t need to be around crying women. We’re all so heartbroken we can’t stop crying. If it isn’t asking too much, you might break the news to him gently. I hate to give him sad news.”

  Mr. Tom took off his straw hat and lowered his head. “I’m powerful sorry to hear that. She was a good woman. God bless her soul. I’ll take Will to the field and we’ll pitch a few balls. I’ll break the news. I won’t be a-bawlin’ either. That’s what you women do. Men handle things better.”

  “I appreciate it, Tom.”

  Will felt his eyes sting. Miss Ethel is dead? But she was fine just a few hours ago. He wiped his eyes. I ain’t gonna bawl and act like a sissy, but it sure hurts my heart. He went around the house and rinsed the worm can.

  Will didn’t go through the backdoor and through the kitchen as he usually did. He walked back to the front yard. Mr. Tom was waiting for him, holding the ball. “How ‘bout we go pitch a few?”

  “Sure,” Will said, hiding his feelings the best he could. As they walked away, Will waved at Jim Bob. “Did you see that? That confounded ol’ cuss waved back at me!”

  “He sure ‘nuff did. Ya might make friends with him yet. There’s somethin’ ‘bout ya that just makes people take to ya. Here. You take the mitt. I’ve got the ball.”

  When they reached the field, Mr. Tom said, “Will, let’s go have us a seat under that tree over yonder. I’ve got somethin’ I need to tell ya.”

  Will took Mr. Tom’s calloused hand. “I already know. I was eavesdropping at the corner of the house when Miss Marylee broke the news to you. Do you think it’s proper for us to play ball and have fun with her just passing away? I don’t want to be disrespectable.”

  Mr. Tom rubbed Will’s head. “I think Miss Ethel would want us to play and have fun. So I tell ya what. I’m gonna pitch ya a fast ball and you just imagine ya got a bat in your hands and yer gonna knock it over the moon for Miss Ethel,”

  They walked out to the middle of the field. “I’m gonna throw ya a fast one. You better catch it. Put that mitt on and get ready!”

  Mr. Tom threw a fast ball but Will missed it. “You threw it over my head. Now I gotta go chase it. That’s not fair.” Will took off running.

  “Ya don’t have to run in a zig-zag. I fired a ball at ya, not bullets.”

  “You did that on purpose, old man. You just wait until it’s my turn to throw. You’re going be running your old butt off.” Will laughed.

  They pitched balls, laughed and enjoyed the rest of the afternoon in spite of the loss that was heavy on their hearts. When the sun went down, they started back to the boarding house. Will dreaded every step he took as they got closer to the house.

  They walked into the parlor and all was silent. The ladies were wiping their eyes but nobody said a word. Will noticed the radio wasn’t on and he didn’t ask questions. He headed into the kitchen.

  Berta and Miss Marylee were sitting at the kitchen table drinking tea. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to talk, so he just stood at the end of the table, looking back and forth at the two. “Take a seat, Will,” Miss Marylee said.

  Will pulled out a chair and sat beside her. “I really would like to know what happened to Miss Ethel, if it’s okay to ask. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say or do.”

  Miss Marylee patted Will’s hand. “It appears that Ethel had a heart attack. She was knitting, then she just fell out of her chair. She went fast and with no pain as far as we can determine. Not one word came from her mouth.”

  “She just up and hit the floor like somebody knocked her out cold,” Berta said. “And she was gone! I still can’t believe it. I lost a good boarder.”

  “Will, Berta and I have been discussing me renting Miss Ethel’s room for you after a respectful period of time. You’re becoming a young man.”

  Berta quickly responded. “Respectful time ain’t got nothin’ to do with it. I’m losing money, and time won’t wait for the bills to be paid. I told ya if you wanna rent the room for Will, then I’ll get it cleaned out and he can move on in.”

  Will tried to hide his excitement of having a room of his own but his insides were quivering. He hoped a few days would be a respectful time.

  “Berta, I won’t disrespect Ethel by just cleaning out her room before she’s cold in her grave. If you need the money that badly, I’ll pay you in advance.” Miss Marylee’s voice was as sharp as Will had ever heard.

  “Like I been sayin’ since Will came here, you pays the money. I keeps my mouth shut.”

  You sure haven’t kept your mouth shut, yet, Will thought. “Miss Marylee, please don’t make me go to a funeral. I can’t bear the sight of seeing her in a box. I’ll break out in hives if you make me.”

  “I understand, son. You don’t have to go if it’ll upset you. You just stay at the boarding house and say prayers for her soul to rest in peace.”

  “I’ll stay home and I’ll pray for her soul, though I don’t think that’s necessary. If her soul isn’t resting in peace, then there’s no hope for any of us. It never made any sense to me for people to pray for souls after they die. It seems to me we need to pray for them while they’re alive.”

  Berta snorted.
“You got that right! But ain’t none of my business. You do what Miss Marylee tells ya.”

  Two weeks later, Will moved into Miss Ethel’s room. He had a place to put his fishing gear, ball and bat and his rock collection. He put his caps on the bedpost. He folded his cot and propped it in a corner. Though he wouldn’t be sleeping on it, he wasn’t ready to give it up. The cot held fond memories for him.

  When all his things were in place, Will call out, “Mr. Tom I need your help with something.”

  Mr. Tom came into Will’s room. “Whatcha need, son?”

  Will heaved a heavy sigh. “Would you please remove the closet door off the hinges, and run an extension cord into the closet so I can plug in the floor lamp?”

  “Well, I don’t see no used in that, but if’n that’s what it’s gonna take to make ya happy, then I’ll do it.”

  After the door was off the hinges, Mr. Tom put the lamp in the back of the closet and put one twenty-five watt bulb into it, although it was made to hold four. “Berta will pitch a fit if I put more than one bulb in it. I hope this one will be a-plenty.”

  “That’s fine, Mr. Tom. I sure appreciate it. Where are we going to hide the closet door so Berta won’t find it? You know how she snoops in all the rooms to make sure everybody is following her rules.”

  “I’ll take it to the attic with the rest of her junk. She’ll just think it fell off the hinges and we don’t have to tell ‘er any different. This place is falling apart anyways.”

  When Will and Mr. Tom had the room fixed up, they heard a gentle knock on the door. “Come in,” Will said.

  Miss Marylee walked inside and looked around. “I must say it looks like a man’s room. There’s nothing sissy in here except for the curtains. Can you live with them, Will?”