In the Valley of Hope Page 10
“Be with you in a minute.”
“No hurry. Waiting for my brother. Don't expect him for a while.”
Charlie was not unaware that he was sitting next to a lovely lady. He wondered how he might strike up a conversation. Weather, he thought. I'll ask her what she thinks of such warm weather for the middle of September.
When he turned to ask his question it occurred to him that this girl was somehow familiar.
Mable could see him in the mirror behind the counter and observed that he was staring at her. She pretended not to notice him staring while attending to her ice cream.
“Help you, mister?”
“Yeah. A couple of scoops of chocolate, please.”
“Coming up.”
Then Charlie realized the identity of the girl sitting next to him.
“Don't I know you?” said Charlie. “Mable Shown, right?”
“How are you, Charlie?”
“I'm finer than a frog’s hair split three ways. And you?”
“Doing just fine.”
“Mable Shown. Well, don't that beat all. This must be my lucky day. You ain't gonna believe who I ran into over in Woodstock this morning?”
“Who was that?”
“Frank Wissler III, our old friend.”
“Ain't that something? How is he?”
“He's good. Helps when you got money. Has the finest automobile I’ve ever seen. Gave me a ride back from Woodstock. Did you hear that commotion outside a little bit ago?”
“What happened?”
“Crazy dog tried to chew up one of his tires.”
“No kidding.”
“Dog was just protecting his territory. Saw Frank's car as a threat. Everything's alright now though. So, what brings you to town?”
“Oh, Daddy had some business to tend to and I just tagged along. He'll be meeting me here in a bit.”
“You look great. Many a time I thought about riding over by your place and seeing how you was doing.”
“You should have.”
“Just stay so darned busy.”
“Guess the last time I saw you was at Granny Teeny's house.”
“Think so. She went on to be with the Lord soon after that.”
“That's what I heard. She lived a full life, though.”
“Yes, she did.”
“Can't get over how you've grown up. You're a real pretty lady.”
“You think so?”
“Well, yes I do.”
Mable blushed at Charlie's observation and tried to hide her embarrassment by taking another bite of ice cream.
“Time passes so fast.”
“Yes, it does.”
Suddenly their conversation was interrupted by another patron at the soda fountain. “Hey, Mable. What brings you to town today?”
Cassie Barb, Mable's best friend, sat on the stool next to her.
“Well, hello Cassie.”
Typically, Mable would have been delighted to see her friend but not on this occasion. Cassie was a talker and rivaled Moses Shown in monopolizing a conversation.
“Just saw this adorable dress...had lots of lace and a pretty bow and it was on sale but, of course, I couldn't afford it but it was nice to look at it anyway. I tried it on, but it was a tad too big. It's hard to find dresses that fit me really well. Guess I'm just too skinny. Do you think that? Do you think I'm too skinny?”
“No indeed, Cassie. You're just right. I'd like you to meet....”
“Now I did find a pair of shoes to go with it and they fit just fine but couldn't afford those either. Told the shopkeeper that I was only looking. That's alright ain't it? It's alright to look at stuff even though you know there ain't no way on under the sun that you could afford it. Ain't no different from window shopping is it?”
“It's fine, I'm sure. Now, this fella sitting...”
“Have you seen Lula Beth Dingler lately and what she's done to her hair? I think she bleached it, but she swears she didn't. Told me she's just spent a lot of time in the sun but I'm not buying it. Bleached. Bleached for sure. Makes her look like a floozy. My mama would kill me if I did something like that. Wouldn't yours?”
“She wouldn't like it a bit. Cassie, I want you to...”
“Did you see that ruckus in the street a bit ago? Craziest thing I ever did see. A stray dog was trying to...”
“Cassie. Cassie. Stop a minute.”
“What's the matter?”
“Nothing’s the matter. Just want you to meet an old friend of mine.”
“Why sure.”
“Cassie, this is Charlie Polk and Charlie, this is Cassie Barb.”
“Please to meet you, Charlie Polk,”
“Likewise.”
“And please forgive my talking so much.”
“It's not a problem.”
“Mama says I talk a lot because I enjoy life so much. Guess that's true. Do you think that's true about people who talk a lot? I do enjoy living and experiencing new things. Have you tried that new Tutti Frutti they got here? It's delicious.”
“Cassie lives about a mile from me as the crow flies. We've been best friends since she moved out our way a couple of years ago,” said Mable.
“Can't stay long,” said Cassie. “Mama and Daddy told me to meet them at the post office.”
Mable was relieved that Cassie would be leaving soon. Normally this would have been a welcome interruption.
“Don't let us keep you,” said Mable.
Cassie transitioned into a lengthy monolog about the natural curl in her hair and eventually Mable and Charlie tuned her out, carrying on a conversation of their own. From time to time, so as not to offend her friend by inattention, Mable would inject reactions to her chattering. “That's nice. You don't say. I see. Well, I'll be. Ain't that something. Uh-huh.”
Then the moment of Cassie's required departure arrived much to Charlie and Mable's relief. She stood up from her stool, gave Mable a quick hug, and told Charlie she was happy to meet him then she headed for the door still talking all the way.
“Who you reckon she's talking too?” said Charlie.
“Herself, I reckon,” said Mable.
There was something extra special about this chance meeting of two old friends. They were caught up in one of those magical times that you wish would never end. Although they talked about nothing of real importance, there was a deeper connection and they both felt it.
As they continued conversing, Mable remembered her prayer request and expressed silent words of gratitude. “Thank you, Lord. Thank you so very much.” She wanted to know if things had gotten any better with Charlie's father.
“Not really,” said Charlie. “At least now that I'm grown he don't beat me no more. He finally stopped that when I was about fifteen. Took a swing at me one day and I grabbed his fist before it hit my face. I stared at him real hard and held his hand where he couldn't move it. I never said a word, but he got the message that I wouldn't be putting up with that no more. He still talks to me like dirt and calls me every foul name he can come up with. I've learned to live with his meanness but what gets to me is how he treats the rest of the family real good. He's just always had it in for me and I don't know why.”
“How come you're still there? You could probably get a good farming job somewhere else.”
“Thought about it a lot. If it were just my old man depending on me, then I would have left long ago. He'd never admit it but without me he'd likely lose the farm and I couldn't do that to my mother and sisters. I've stayed there for them.”
“When I saw how mean your daddy was to you that day back in school it broke my heart.”
“I saw you crying. That was a sad day for me too. You and Frank and Cilla were all that I had to look forward to. Kind of got a bad attitude about things for a while which only caused daddy to come down on me harder.”
Tears came to Mable's eyes as she relived that cruel time from their past.
“Now, come on. There'll be none of that. How come a beautif
ul girl like you ain't married yet?”
“Best I can remember we're the same age so I could ask you he same thing. But to answer your question...the right one hasn't come along yet. How about you?”
“Too dadbern busy.”
“Some things in life are worth making time for.”
“Expect you're right. So, tell me about your family. If I remember correctly, you've got a bunch of sisters and just one brother.”
“Ella and Lessi are the oldest and they're both married and moved off. Then there's Pearl, who's already an old maid at 32, least that's what Mama says. Carrie is married and living out of state which leaves Walter and me still at home.”
“So you were the baby.”
“That's right. And then, of course, mama and daddy.
“Ain't your daddy the reverend at Pine Church or something like that?”
“No. He's the sexton for the church.”
“What's that mean?”
“He's the caretaker of the church and cemetery and digs graves when church members pass.”
“What's your plan for the future? I mean, what do you want to do with your life?”
Mable laughed at his question. Since she came into the world, her parents had been preparing her for just one thing, marriage. Sitting there with Charlie, even though they were just having a friendly conversation, it seemed inappropriate and even a little embarrassing to admit that she had been raised to find a good man, get married, and have children. That just might be the kind of thing to scare him off.
“Why are you laughing?”
“Daddy always says that God has a plan for each of our lives and it’s our job to find out what it is. Haven't quite figured it out yet.”
“That so? It’s funny you said that because I have always believed that God put me here for something special. Once in a while things will happen that I can't explain.”
“What do you mean?
“Like, for instance, what happened in the street a while ago with that dog. A few years back, I was helping out with the apple harvest at Strathmore, and it was like somebody pushed me into a burning stable and helped me to get the horses out of there, before they were all killed. Never have been able to understand what happened.”
“Were you hurt?”
“That's just it. Not a scratch, a burn, or nothing. Every horse survived even though the barn burned to the ground.
“I've often wondered about the thing you did with that lame horse at Granny Teeny’s.”
“Can't explain it. Animals respond favorable to me. Always have. It's the darndest thing. Hey, you like chocolate?”
“Sure but I couldn't eat any more ice cream, thank you.”
“Not talking about ice cream. Stay right where you are. I'll be right back.”
Mable was puzzled by Charlie's sudden departure and waited patiently for his return all the while replaying the euphoria of the last hour. If heaven is anything like what I'm feeling right now, she thought, then it's going to be even better than I imagined.
Then came the sound of a familiar deep and loud voice booming across the store. “Little woman needs a good salve for a mean rash. You folks still carry Witch Hazel Salve?”
Moses Shown had returned from running his errands, which meant Mable's fun would soon be over. More troubling though was that he was standing right next to Charlie at the drug counter and talking about, of all things, her mother's rash. Mable thought she would die.
The unofficial yarn spinning laureate of the Valley was in top form. “Yes, sir. Worst rash I ever did see. Itches something powerful.” Yes, Moses was loud and loved to be the center of attention but he also was a most delightful man. He had a gift for making people feel good. “You reckon I might be able to talk with Witch Hazel herself?”
Oh, Charlie. Please don't watch this, she thought, but it was too late. Charlie was laughing along with the rest of Moses' attracted audience.
“Ain't nobody in this store named Witch Hazel?” inquired Moses as he looked at the people standing around him.
“How about you little girl, are you, Witch Hazel?”
Then he sized up a blue-haired elderly woman with a cane. “Nope. You ain't her. Mr. Store Clerk surely you can tell which one of these fine folks is Miss Hazel.”
“No, sir. There's nobody here by that name. We just sell her salve.” replied the clerk to the chuckles of onlookers.
“Very well then. And could you be so good as to tell me if you have Sir Walter Raleigh in a can?”
“Yes, sir we do and also in a pouch.”
“Then you better let him out,” said Moses with a big smile and the crowd erupted in knee-slapping laughter.
Concerned that the young clerk was embarrassed by his little charade Moses took a moment to thank him for joining him in some good-natured fun. “You're a mighty fine sport. Thanks for playing along with my shenanigans.” But Moses wasn't done just yet. He picked up a jar of Witch Hazel Salve and examined it. “How much of this stuff do I need to eat to get rid of my rheumatism?”
“No, sir. You don't eat it. You just rub it where it hurts.”
“So that's what I've been doing wrong.” Again the amused crowd laughed at his antics.
“What's that salve taste like, Moses?” shouted the pharmacist from across the room.
“A lot like Mrs. Shown's rhubarb pie,” said Moses waving at his old friend.
“What would you charge me to come in here and put on a show for the folks every Saturday?”
“Oh, you couldn't afford me. This one's on the house.”
While Moses tended to some serious business at the drug counter, Charlie rejoined Mable at the soda fountain. “You missed the show.”
“Oh, I could hear plenty.”
“You didn't think it was funny?”
“Well, I suppose it was funny enough, but it wasn't the first impression I wanted you to get of my daddy.”
“That was your daddy? He's hilarious. I thought it was nice of him to be concerned about your mama’s rash.”
“She doesn’t really have a rash. That was so embarrassing.”
“Hey, before I have to leave I wanted to give you something.”
“What is it?”
Charlie handed her a small paper bag. “Just felt like getting you a little gift.”
“Can I look at it now?”
“Sure.”
From out of the bag Mable withdrew a small box of Whitman's Chocolates. “You shouldn't have.”
“And why not?”
“Thank you. Thank you very much. I'm going to keep this box forever so I will never forget this day.”
“My brother, Bill, Jr. should be along just about any time now to pick me up and I just thought that seeing you again today was really special. Maybe when you eat those chocolates, you'll be thinking about me.”
Mable smiled approvingly. “I don't have anything to give you to remember me.”
“You've already given me something I'll never forget by spending some time with me today and it would mean a lot to me if we could meet again real soon.”
“I would like that very much.”
Their tender moment was cut short by the words that Mable did not want to hear. “Mable, you ready to go?” Moses was standing at the front door and waving for her to join him.
“When can I see you again?” said Charlie.
“Come on. I want you to meet my daddy.”
Dutifully, Charlie followed Mable through the store to the front door and onto the sidewalk where they found Moses staring into his bag of purchases. “Yep, think I got everything.”
“Daddy, I've got someone here I'd like you to meet.”
This was not unfamiliar territory for Moses Shown. At least three similar events had already happened when he was introduced to the men who would ultimately marry three of his daughters. Mable was his baby and this chance meeting caused him to be uncharacteristically nervous.
“Daddy, this is Charlie Polk. He and I go way back to Stover School
.”
“Pleased to meet you, Charlie. I'm Moses Shown.”
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Shown.”
“Call me, Moses.”
“Charlie showed up in town today on his way back from Woodstock and we ran into each other at the soda fountain. Been catching up on old times.”
“Business over in Woodstock?” said Moses.
“You might say. Had to go to the courthouse and register for the draft.”
That previously undisclosed bit of information hit Mable like a ton of bricks. “Are you going to have to fight in the war?”
“Don't rightly know. Just have to wait and see if my number comes up.”
“I hear tell that the war might soon be over,” said Moses.
“Oh, I hope so,” said Mable still shaken by the revelation.
“Good to meet you, Charlie. Come on, Mable. We've got to high tail it before it gets dark on us. This old mule is as slow as Christmas, which is why I named her Christmas.”
“Goodbye, Charlie,” said Mable. “Come join us for church on Sunday. You know where Pine Church is located, right? We meet at eleven. Don’t be late.”
“Uh, yeah. See if I can get the livestock fed in time to get over there.”
“I’ll be watching for you. Don’t disappoint me.”
The proposed rendezvous location was not what Charlie had in mind. In all his life, he had only stepped inside a house of worship three times and all of them for funerals. To his recollection church was a sad place with weeping women in black veils and not at all conducive to a happy meeting with Mable.
As they walked along the street toward the Shown's parked wagon, Mable worried that Charlie would not respond favorably to her church invitation. “You think he'll come?”
“What are you talking about, Mable?”
“Do you think he'll come to church on Sunday?”
“Are you interested in that boy?”
Mable didn't respond.
“That's what I thought,” said Moses. “Here we go again. It always starts this way.”
“So, do you think he'll come?”
“They always do.”
The Wisdom of Moses, September 12, 1918
Mable had never been to a picture show, but there was one playing in her mind. With every replay of the incredible scene in the drugstore with Charlie, there was a new detail to savor. Riding on a gravel road was never a smooth experience but if she didn't know better she would have sworn that she was floating on air