Authors: Judith Pella
“I was about ready to come after you,” Mama said. “You’ll get a chill sitting outside so late without a coat.”
“We heard Reverend L ocklin ride off some time ago,” Dad said.
“He asked me to send his regards.”
“Something must have happened for him to not stop back in the house before leaving. He even left his coat behind,” said Mama.
“We didn’t quite agree on something,” Ellie said vaguely, hoping that would be the end of it but knowing it wouldn’t.
“What did you say to him?” asked Mama.
“You immediately assume it was I who offended him!”
“Well, Ellie, honey,” Dad said gently, “you did seem to have a little bee in your bonnet.”
“He said I was inflexible and judgmental.” She was about to take back the judgmental part when she realized he hadn’t actually said that. But she was certain he was thinking it, so she didn’t.
“You were pretty unwilling to consider there might be more to what happened than appeared on the surface,” Dad said.
“There is more to it than that, though, isn’t there, Ellie?” Mama asked.
Ellie looked at her mother, then quickly at her father. She just shrugged. She couldn’t say what was really bothering her in front of her father. He was already skeptical of this business of marrying off the minister and might take her confession wrong.
“Calvin,” said Mama, “why don’t you go on up to bed? I ’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Dad looked from one woman to the other, nodded, and setting aside his catalog, rose. “Don’t be too long.It’s late.”
When they were alone, Mama said, “Now, Ellie, tell me what is really on your mind. I never knew you to be such a pacifist.”
“Well, it is true I don’t condone violence, and I am bothered that everyone is patting Reverend L ocklin on the back. But . . . shouldn’t we be able to expect more from our minister? I t’d be different if Dad or Boyd had attacked Mr. Donnelly.”
“Ellie, the minister is a man just like any other. You don’t seriously believe he is perfect. He probably snores when he sleeps, belches when he’s alone, and forgets to wipe his boots when entering a house. He is just as liable to make a mistake as anyone else.”
“I know . . .” Ellie replied hesitantly.
Mama leaned forward, the light of true understanding in her eyes. “Ellie, did you think that by marrying a minister you’d have the perfect man?Is that why you’ve always dreamed of that?”
Ellie bit her lip, hating to admit that her mother was right.
Mama reached across the gap separating their seats and grasped her hand. “Honey,” she said, “you’ll be sorely disappointed in life if you expect perfection from anyone. No one, not even a man of God, can fit the bill.”
“I guess I was hoping that if I married a minister, I ’d be that much closer, at least,” Ellie said hopefully.
Mama shook her head. “When a woman marries, she can never be truly certain what she is getting.”
“You did pretty well with Dad.”
“Well,I didn’t order him from the Montgomery Ward catalog that way!” Mama smiled at her jest. “It’s taken twenty-two years of hard work on my part to get him shaped up.”
“Are you saying you change the man you marry?”
“I wouldn’t suggest marrying a fellow with the thought that you’ll change him to fit your desires. You might end up like poor Jane Donnelly.I hope, however, that you’ll start out with good roots, good stock. A man with a good heart. That’s why your father has worked out so well. Change happens to people who are willing to be better. Sometimes they need a nudge or two along the way. But if their heart is right, then they are halfway there.” Mama rose and went to the cupboard where she kept her sewing things. She took out a box that Ellie knew contained special mementos.
Mama lifted the lid and took out two papers. “You remember these?”
Both papers were children’s drawings. One was of a birthday cake with two candles and some rather lopsided wrapped presents. The other was of a rocking chair in front of a hearth.
Scrawled on both in childish writing were the words
Hapy Birf-day, Mama
.
“Boyd and I drew these,” Ellie said. “I made the one of the birthday cake.I must have been five when I drew that.”
“Your father and I had been married eight years when you did those. I was expecting Georgie. Your father was a good husband, but like all he had a few faults. One being that he never remembered my birthday. Year after year he’d forget, and year after year I ’d get mad, pout, and not speak to him for a day. He just never got the idea. But on this particular birthday,I had determined not to remind your father and to test him. I did happen to mention to Boyd that it was my birthday, and without my knowing it, he drew me this picture and got you to draw one, too. Maggie was too young, I guess, to participate.”
“I kind of remember,” Ellie said. “He was upset that you didn’t have any presents.”
“You both presented your pictures at supper. Your father was shocked. He had forgotten once again and was shamed by the fact that his little children had remembered when he had not. Moreover, Boyd’s picture of the rocking chair was a lot like one I ’d seen at Dolman’s store in St. Helens and had hinted that I ’d like it for the new baby because our other rocker was old and worn out from rocking not only my three children but from having rocked some of my ancestors’ children, as well.
“Next day, when I came in from working in the garden, there was that rocker sitting by the hearth with a ribbon tied around it. Your father has never forgotten my birthday since.”
“So you did change Dad, only you let Boyd be your agent.”
“I’ll admit I did nudge the situation along, but there was no reason to believe it wouldn’t be like every other year, and he would go back to forgetting. This time your dad changed himself.I guess what I am saying, Ellie, is that I would still love your father even if he’d kept this bad habit, and believe me, he’s got a few bad habits still, but I love him in spite of them. I love him for his heart.I suspect he feels the same about me because, you may not know this, but I have one or two bad habits, too.” She added this last deadpan. Then she smiled.
Ellie chuckled with her mother and added more somberly, “I guess I always knew I wouldn’t get a perfect husband. But there is more to being married to a minister than that.”
“You have set your cap for Reverend Locklin?”
Was there a hint of hopefulness in her mother’s tone?
“I was beginning to wonder, the way you seem to avoid him.”
“I suppose I changed my mind.I started out thinking I wanted to get his attention, but I don’t like the feeling of being a spider spinning a web. Let Mabel have him.”
“Mabel would be a terrible minister’s wife. For one thing, she would never be able to survive on a preacher’s meager wage.”
“How about Maggie?”
“Maggie?” Mama started to laugh at the absurdity of this, then paused and added with more alarm, “Maggie?”
“Don’t tell her I said anything, Mama, but she got it into her head that she would go after the minister rather than let Mabel win him.”
“That only shows her immaturity. I should speak to her.”
“Please don’t, Mama. You know Maggie.If she thinks you’re opposed, that will make her all the more determined.I think if we just let it go, Reverend L ocklin will have the sense to choose his mate more wisely. He won’t be snared unwittingly by anyone.”
If Georgie hadn’t been along on this fishing trip, Maggie knew William wouldn’t have been either. Nevertheless, she resented her little brother’s presence.
For one thing, he’d kept up a steady stream of chatter with the reverend practically the entire ride. But now that they were settled by the pond, Maggie was determined to take better control of the situation. If William L ocklin thought this was merely a fishing expedition, he was in for a surprise.
It was a fine afternoon, summer having arrived full-fledged. White puffy clouds sparsely dotted the blue sky, permitting the sun to warm the earth below. A slight breeze ruffled the tall grasses surrounding the fishing pond which, besides the grass, was bordered with a handful of willows, some birch, and a couple of oaks a bit back from the water’s edge.
The three fishermen baited their lines and cast them into the smooth blue water. Afternoon wasn’t really the prime time for fishing, but this being a school day, it was the only time Georgie could come along. The spring term would go until the middle of July, so Maggie would suggest another fishing expedition on a weekday morning when her brother would be in school.
Propping their poles up with rocks, they reposed comfortably in the grass and waited for a bite. They talked about all manner of things but mostly fishing. William wasn’t really a novice. He said he’d fished as a boy in Kansas but had lost interest because his stepfather kept criticizing his technique and was a rather heavy-handed teacher. Maggie had thought she’d heard William was from Maine, but maybe she’d heard wrong or maybe he had moved to Maine at some point.
Eventually Georgie grew bored with the conversation and decided to do some exploring. The last time he had been to the pond, he had spotted a robin’s nest and now wanted to see if the eggs had hatched. William said to yell if he found anything but seemed content to mind Georgie’s pole in the meantime. Maggie hoped it was because he wanted to spend some time with her.
Finally alone, they talked about one thing and another, and Maggie marveled at how easy he was to converse with, not as she’d imagine it would be with a scholarly man who had been to seminary and must be very intelligent. He talked about simple things, not about religion or philosophy or any such topic. They talked for a while about horses, and he knew more than she thought a city-bred fellow would. He also started talking about his travels, and it surprised her how much he’d seen of the country. He began to tell a story of encountering a storm on a ship from San Francisco to Seattle when he stopped suddenly.
“Oh, that’s not an interesting story,” he said, looking peculiar. “I wonder where Georgie is?”
“I didn’t realize this wasn’t your first time in the West, William,” Maggie commented.
“Did I say I was on that ship? I meant my grandfather—yes, grandfather. He was quite the seaman.”
“I could have sworn you said it was you.”
He laughed. “No . . . not me. Say,I’ve’ve been doing all the talking. Tell me about yourself, Maggie.”
“What’s there to tell? I have been in the same place for seventeen years and done pretty much the same things.” She never thought she was so boring. She hoped that didn’t make him lose what interest he seemed to have in her.
“How about your family? Surely there must be stories.
Didn’t your mother and father come here over the Oregon Trail?”
“Yes, but they don’t talk about it much.” She was becoming disgusted that she had nothing more interesting than that to tell. Finally she thought of something and, brightening, added, “I’ll tell you a huge family secret.”
“Maybe you better not do that,” he cautioned.
“Well,I can tell only as much as everyone knows—”
“Then it can’t be much of a secret.”
She scratched her head. Was the only interesting thing she had to say about her family just as boring as everything else? “It is juicy just the same,” she insisted. “Have you noticed how my mother and Mrs. Parker don’t seem friendly toward each other?”
“Can’t say as I have.”
“They manage to be civil on the surface, but there is bad blood between them. No one knows why except that something happened when they were girls. They came out here on the same wagon train.” She arched a brow, trying to extract all she could from this tiny gem. “I think—I’m not the only one who thinks this—that my mother stole my father from Mrs. Parker.”
“And Mrs. Parker has maintained resentment over that all this time even though she married another?”
“Rumor has it that she and Mr. Parker don’t have the happiest marriage.”
William nodded. “I have noticed they are very formal with each other. Not at all like your parents, who seem comfortable with each other. Your father even told me once how much he enjoys your mother’s company. I never sensed a similar feeling with the Parkers.”
“And that’s why she resents my mother. She got the short end of the stick!”
“That’s sad.”
Suddenly Georgie’s pole began to tremble. “We got a bite!” Maggie exclaimed.
They spent the next few minutes trying to bring in the fish, but when it broke the surface they saw it was too small to keep, so William slipped it from the hook and tossed it back into the water.
“I hope your mother wasn’t expecting to cook fish tonight,” William said.
“She never plans on it when we fish. Usually if we bring something home, it just becomes a side dish.” Maggie thought this was a good time to bring up her plan. “Say, William, how about if we go fishing again next week, maybe Monday.If we get an early start, we’ll have much better luck.”
“But Georgie will be in school.”
Maggie barely restrained a grimace at his insightfulness, then with a resigned sigh replied, “Maybe Saturday, then?”
Perhaps she’d think of some way to detain Georgie at the last minute.
“I guess I could if I get my sermon finished.”
“It’s like you got school assignments to do, isn’t it?” Maggie said. “Do you really like being a minister?I was so glad when I finished school. I never want to do another assignment.”
“I wouldn’t be a minister if I didn’t like it,” William replied.
Maggie thought his reply lacked enthusiasm. Maybe he didn’t really like it. Maybe he’d become a minister to make his parents happy or something. Perhaps that was why he was the most different minister she’d ever seen. She didn’t know why that relieved her a little. Perhaps after they married he would quit being a minister and become a farmer instead. She’d like that much better.
“You ever think about farming?” she asked.
“That’s mighty hard work.”
“I think trying to write a sermon is harder.”
“Not if you enjoy it.”
“I’m just saying, if you didn’t enjoy it, there’d be no crime in quitting and doing something else, would there?”