Will’s sales dropped and his repair work slowed so much that he began to worry about mortgage payments. The war dampened most businesses’ profits but none more than Will’s. With the young men away, there were few buyers for his cars. He tried selling auto insurance, but paying good money for something not likely to happen wasn’t very popular. Still, the insurance business provided a little income. He should have stayed on the farm. No matter how bad things got, they’d always have food. He was glad that Mary wanted to continue teaching.
With fewer customers he had more time, so on slack days he stopped at Bennie’s Bar on the way home. He drank the cheap seven ounce beer and seldom took a refill. One day, when he stayed a bit longer than usual, Mary, Michael in her arms, waited at the door when he turned up his front walk. Will followed the sidewalk’s crack to make sure he walked a straight line.
“Did you stop at Bennie’s again?”
“I only had two beers.” He held his hand over his heart. “Sober as a judge, I swear it.”
“That’s not much of a testament in this town,” Mary said.
Will knew she was right. Tommy Burns liked his Scotch and ale. Will turned and walked back up the line. “Straight as an arrow, see.” He pointed toward the crack.
“Will, I’m not going to complain if you stop at Bennie’s now and then.” She stood Michael down and he ran to his father. “Lord knows how I hate that wicked drink. But the vice runs through your family, so I suppose you can’t help it. I don’t know how your father manages. He always has a bottle. And Jesse.” She took Michael from Will’s arms. “But you’ve got this young one now. I’d think you’d want to set an example. You, better than anyone, should know the harm it does.”
Will felt ashamed when his handsome little boy reached out to him and smiled as if he believed his dad could do no wrong. “I promise, Mary, I’ll come straight home from now on. I’ll close my eyes when I pass Bennie’s.”
For a while thereafter he looked the other way whenever he passed Bennie’s, and thought ahead to his weekend with Michael.
And together, every Saturday and Sunday, they explored Ashley Springs. When snow was on the ground, they walked to Center Street and watched the big kids slide down the village’s longest hill. “What fun,” Will said. “Why, by this time next year I’ll have made you a sled, and we’ll race down the hills together. But you’d better hold tight, ’cause my sleds go fast.”
Michael eyed the children whizzing by as if he believed Will’s promise and could hardly wait his turn. When he wandered too close, Will called, “Come back to Daddy. Don’t get so close.”
But Daddy’s voice emboldened Michael, and he darted toward the speeding projectiles. Will raced after him. “You little leprechaun,” Will screamed as he ran, and when he caught him, Michael laughed uncontrollably while Will rolled him in the snow.
In spring they strolled to the village green where they watched boys play baseball. “I’ll show you my slow pitch,” Will said. “They’ll have a terrible time trying to hit your fastball when you throw that changeup now and then.”
Michael smiled, pointed toward the boys, and said, “my dada,” as if he knew exactly what Will had in mind.
Sometimes, Will took Michael to the valley stream where they listened to the current sing its song and watched the birds at the water’s edge. Will called out each bird that joined them.
“That’s a brown-headed cowbird,” he said. “A lazy bird she is. Must think she’s well-to-do. Leaves her young with a nanny.”
“Look over there,” he pointed. “An indigo bunting. See the blue speck? See it move?” Will motioned across the stream. “You almost never see one. It stays hidden.” He turned Michael’s head toward the bird. “Behind that branch.”
Michael looked to where Will pointed, but he lost interest, and instead clenched Will’s fingers and stretched toward the water’s edge.
When Will didn’t move, Michael pulled and pointed at the flowing current. “Play water,” he said and pulled harder.
“So my birds aren’t so interesting after all?” Will sat Michael on his knee, took the boy’s shoes off, and dangled his toes in the cold stream.
Michael screamed and lifted his feet above the meandering rivulet.
“A little too cold for my laddie?” Will stepped away from the bank’s edge, but Michael twisted his body and leaned back toward the flow. “Again,” he said as he stretched toward the water.
“You want more, my brave little bear?” Will dangled Michael’s feet over the water, and Michael dipped them, pulled back, then thrust deep and flailed the water until it splashed across the shoreline and drenched Will’s trousers. Michael laughed when he saw his daddy soaked. “My dada wet,” Michael said. “Again.”
“Oh, no, my laddie. I’ll not be taken in again.” He set his boy down, took his hand, and started toward home.
At first, Michael resisted, but when his dad didn’t slow, he trotted alongside all the way home.
“I wish I had your energy, my laddie. But you must use it to learn about your world. You can’t just be a trickster.”
Before they entered the house, Will pulled Michael close and hugged him tightly, and when Michael responded, “my dada,” Will nuzzled his neck and said, “My son, I love you with all my heart. I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you.”
Will continued his quest to educate Michael. He identified rose-breasted grosbeaks, eastern bluebirds, cedar waxwings, and lots of robins. He expected Michael to be the best informed youngster in town.
But Will worried, too, and he still stopped at Bennie’s now and then. “Business sure is slow these days,” he said to Bennie. “I hope I can get by until this war is over.”
“I don’t think it’ll last,” Bennie said. “Now we’re in it, won’t be long till those Krauts are on the run.”
“I hope so.”
“You’re a farmer at heart, Will. Maybe it’s time to go back. Farmers are doing well. We gotta feed the world now.”
“I think about it, I sure do, but I doubt Mary would want to leave our nice home. Farming’s hard work, Bennie. I’m not sure I’d want to put her through it. Not sure she’d do it.”
“Your dad’s up in age. He can’t farm forever. Why don’t you buy his farm? Then he could afford a house in town.” Bennie dipped a glass in hot, soapy water, swirled it, dipped it in a rinse, and held it up for inspection. “S’pose his farm’s too small. Wouldn’t support a family, not the way costs are rising these days.”
“Not the way he farms, but I’ve got ideas to increase production. But Dad’s not about to leave, not yet. Maybe someday.”
* * *
On one balmy September Saturday Michael went to bed with the sniffles. By morning, his cough worsened, so Will walked to Dr. Ruggles’ office, but when no one answered his knock, he left a message on the door: “Michael’s ill. Please come as soon as possible.”
Dr. Ruggles checked Michael thoroughly and assured Will and Mary the boy would be okay, that it was just a late summer cold, and after a few days he would be as good as new. It seemed that Michael’s cough lessened when he was upright, so Will cradled him in his arms and walked the floor most of that day. He wiped his brow with cold washcloths and filled his bottle with a thin chicken broth that Michael seemed to like. When Will tried to put him down, he clung to his daddy and shook his head while pleading, “Dada, my dada.”
Will pulled his son close, squeezed tight, nuzzled the boy’s neck and whispered, “My son, I love you with all my heart.”
But Dr. Ruggles was right. Will’s worry lessened as Michael improved through the week.
In the evenings, to pass the time, Will fashioned a simple little ditty that he sang while he twirled Michael around the nursery:
Took my laddie out today, out today, out today.
Took my laddie out today, all the way to Downy.
Took my laddie out to play, out to play, out to play.
Took my laddie out to play, all the way to Downy.
Took my laddie in a sleigh, in a sleigh, in a sleigh.
Took my laddie in a sleigh, all the way to Downy.
Took my laddie far away, far away, far away.
Took my laddie far away, all the way to Downy.
Michael laughed and clapped his hands when Will dipped him toward the floor each time they arrived at Downy.
One evening, when Mary got home late, she found Michael and Will on the nursery rug, Michael snug in his blanket, his head on a pillow and fast asleep. Will sat beside him, like a shepherd caring for his littlest lamb. She kneeled by her husband, wrapped her arms around him, and cradled his head on her shoulder.
“I have no fears for Michael when you’re with him, my dear. He couldn’t have more loving care.” She bent down and kissed her sleeping baby. “I know you’ll never let anything happen to him. He’ll always be safe with his daddy. I love the both of you with all my heart. The two princes in my life.”
She took Will’s head in her hands, pulled him close, and kissed his lips.
Although he lost more income than other merchants who didn’t depend upon youth sales, Will continued to be confident that business would boom once the boys returned. He believed that nothing would deter their newfound enthusiasm for adventure and excitement.
But there were awful nightmares. Many nights Will awoke with visions of Jesse crumpled over, his face bloodied. Thomas called repeatedly to see if Will had heard anything, but there was no word, not a single letter from Jesse, and none from Frank, either. It felt as if the gods had swept his brothers away. How could they be so divided?