Chapter 6

 

“We can look at the quilts first. Follow me.” Henie took off and led Karen between piles of boxes and trunks. “In this cedar chest is the quilts. It has always been used for a bedding box. Open it, dear.”

Karen could see Henie's finger marks in the dust on the lid when she opened the chest. Inside were two stacks of folded quilts and the strong scent of cedar. “These are like new and so pretty,” Karen exclaimed. “Why do you suppose they were never used?”

“Making the quilts was the past time of an old woman just to stay busy and put in her time until she died. I'll bet she put them in this chest and left it set right here. No one was curious enough to look inside until now,” Henie explained. “Now pick out as many as you want for your bed and make sure to get a very bright one for the top cover.”

Karen took two. The one she wanted for the top cover had red tulips set on white blocks and surrounded with red strips. “Now what about the curtains?”

“Right behind us in a box.” Henie pointed out a cardboard box perched on a small table.

The box was full of curtains. Karen picked out a pair of white lacy curtains with a scalloped bottom. “I like these.”

“I do, too. I bet they were part of a set that hung in the parlor,” Henie said.

Karen set the quilts and curtains on top the chest. “I want to look at that lamp table under the box.” She placed the box on the floor and studied the table. A small, square, walnut table with a smaller lower shelf attached to the legs, and the claw feet were on glass balls. “Oh my, how neat is that. Would this table look all right in front of my window?”

“It would. Now we have to find a lamp to put on it,” Henie said and took off to a far corner to the discarded lamp pile. She said in disappointment, “These are so old I don't think any of them will work. Most of them aren't electric.”

Karen caught up to her. Right away she spotted a porcelain, round, white lamp base with a glass shade that had prisms hanging from the shade. “I like that one.”

“It's not modern, dear. That lamp used to light with kerosene,” Henie said.

“It doesn't have to be modern to look pretty on my table. I can buy fuel something like kerosene to put in it. If the electricity goes off in a storm, we'd be all set,” Karen decided.

Henie smiled. “I think that sounds like a plan. Now I want you to look at the hope chest.”

Henie walked along the stacks and came to a cedar chest. She opened it up. “This was your grandmother Mary's wedding dress.” The dress was ivory satin with pearls sewed in two rows at the neck and the end of the cuffs just below rows of lace. The skirt was an A line shape all the way to the floor.

“That is a beautiful gown,” Karen exclaimed.

“I'll bet that was the dress your mother was suppose to wear when she got married,” Henie said.

“Did she wear it?” Karen asked.

“I don't know,” Henie said. “But the dress stayed in Mary's hope chest.”

That is one of the few things Henie confessed to not knowing. “What else is in there?”

“Assortment of linens, like sheets, pillow cases with embroidered baskets full of flowers on them to match. Dish towels with the day of the week on them. I forget what else,” Henie said.

Karen fingered the neatly piled linens. “Why do you suppose Grandma Mary didn't use all these things?”

Henie hesitated. “I'm not suppose to know, but I'd say Samuel's wife was a bit too picky. Most things weren't good enough for her unless she picked them out. The more I hear about your mother the more she sounds like her mother. That happens usually. Daughters become like their mothers. Anyway when you need a hope chest, I just wanted you to know you have one.”

“Yes, I'll keep that in mind. Now I best carry some of my treasure down to my room. You can dust the table and air the quilts if you want to help,” Karen said.

“That's my job,” Henie declared. “Oh, there's a couple other items I'd like brought down. Could we take a couple of the old rockers taken out on the front porch so we can sit out there on nice evenings and watch the sun set?”

“Henie, that sounds like a good idea. I'll carry them down later,” Karen said. “Let's work on my bedroom first. I'm excited to see how our makeover looks.”

One day, Karen was right in the middle of writing an important chapter in her book when Henie insisted she stop for lunch. When Karen sit down at the table, the full bowls were overwhelming. She wasn't sure what would have been appropriate to feed crew of field hands in days gone by, but she had the feeling this meal might be it. Also, she had an ominous feeling if she asked, Henie could tell her what foods would be on a working farm's table.

“My goodness, Henie, why so much food? I really can do with much less to eat,” Karen declared.

Henie leaned against the counter. Her bottom lip jutted out in a pout. “You work hard. You must keep up your energy.”

Karen sighed. She wasn't going to be able to out argue Henie when the robot gave her that worried, grandmotherly look. She filled her plate with portions from each bowl. She managed to eat most of the mash potatoes, gravy, fried chicken, green beans, carrots and strawberry Jello salad she put on her plate. All the while, she eyed the dessert on the other end of the table, chocolate cake.

Karen decided to leave some of the food to have room for the cake. She leaned back in her chair and rubbed her full stomach. “Okay, Henie, I give up. I'm ready for a piece of cake.”

Henie critically stared at the plate. “Didn't your mother ever tell you, children are starving in this world that would love to have half of what you just ate. You should appreciate the food you get and clean up your plate.”

“Oh, yes, I heard that from my mother. When I ate her food I made sure not to put too big a portions on my plate so I could eat everything. That way she'd let me have dessert,” Karen explained truthfully.

“Just remember you're the one that filled your plate. It wasn't me holding onto the serving spoons,” Henie pointed out as she scraped the scraps off into a pet bowl.

She carried the bowl to the back steps and called, “Here kitty, kitty.” She waited a minute and called again, “Here, Sock.”

No wondered that pesky cat has stuck around instead of going back where he came from, Karen thought. She's been feeding him.

“Where could that cat have gotten off to,” Henie mumbled. “I better go check in the barn. Maybe the cat didn't hear me.”

She was down the steps and walking across the yard before Karen got to the screen door. “Where do you think you're going?”

“To find the cat,” Henie said without stopping. “I thought I'd check in the barn.”

Karen flew out the screen door and caught up with Henie. “That old barn doesn't look safe. I don't think it's a good idea to go in there.”

“Nonsense, just because the building needs a few repairs doesn't mean it's unsound,” Henie said.

“All right, but I'm going with you against my better judgment,” Karen insisted.

Henie looked put out with her. “You really don't have to if you would rather not.”

“Yes, I do. You're worth a bunch of money. I don't want Amy to charge me for letting you get broken when she comes to get you,” Karen argued. “I can just see it now. Amy will ask how this accident happened. I say the barn fell in on you. She's really going to like that.”

“That's not going to happen. I don't intend to repair the barn for heaven's sakes. I'm just looking for Sock,” Henie snapped.

Careful Karen. She's getting mad. Change the subject. “Why don't you call him Socks?”

Henie looked perturbed. “It doesn't take human science to come up with the answer.”

“You mean rocket science,” Karen corrected.

“Don't always correct me, young lady. In your case, human science is a lot closer to what you might know than rocket science is. How much closer is debatable from all these dump ideas you have,” Henie flipped.

“Fine, but the name Socks is much easier to say than Sock so why name a cat that?” Karen insisted.

“If you had paid attention you might have seen the cat only has one sock,” Henie replied dryly. “Now if you're going with me help me find my cat.”

The fact that Henie was now calling Sock her cat didn't get by Karen as she unhooked the door. The rusted hinges squeaked and groaned in protest. For a moment, Karen wasn't sure the hinges were going to hold the door in place.

Karen stood just inside the barn, letting her eyes adjust to the light. Apparently, Henie didn't have the same problem. She walked around, looking the building over and reminisced, “There was a time long ago when I'll bet those stalls held a pair of dappled gray driving horses and two draft work horses.”

Karen glanced at the stalls with the thought she wouldn't take that bet, either. She'd have to remember to ask her mother what kind of horses had been in the barn.

Henie headed for a feed manger along the back wall, calling, “Here Sock. Come to me.”

Karen listened for an answering meow. All she heard were pigeons cooing in the hay loft. A rat skittered behind Henie and burrowed into a pile of hay before Karen had time to squeal. “Henie, let's get out of here. The barn is full of rats.”

Henie stopped staring in the manger and turned with her hands on her hips. “You live in the country long enough you won't let a few little critters bother you. You will get used to them. Take it from me. I know. Now come over here. I found Sock.”

Skirting way out around the hay pile, Karen watched around her feet so she didn't step on another rat as she rushed to the manger. “Is that cat sick? If he is, I don't him in the house anymore. You hear me.”

“Sock isn't sick. She's bringing this old barn back to life. It's been years since an animal gave birth in here, not counting the mice and rats, of course. As a bird fluttered over head, she amended, “Sparrows and barn swallows, too.”

Karen's mouth fell open. Henie was holding a tiny black kitten. The kitten was so new it didn't have its eyes open. “Sock is a female!”

“That's right. Look at that pretty litter of kittens. No wonder she didn't want to come when I called. She was busy,” Henie said excitedly. “Here, take this one, and I'll pick another one to hold.” As soon as she handed the kitten to Karen, its face turned ugly, it's claws came out and it sputtered at her.

Karen let go of the kitten. It fell back in the manger. Henie gasped as Sock reached out and pawed the baby back into the boiling mass of legs and tails.

“I don't blame you, Sock, for wanting to protect your babies from Karen. Don't worry. She will learn how to hold your kitties. Henie held her kitten out to Karen. “The little darlings spat, because they can't see, but they won't hurt you. Try again?”

Karen put her arms behind her back. “No, thanks. You didn't tell me Sock was a female cat.”

“You didn't ask. Besides, I didn't know she was expecting. If I had I would have smuggled her up to my room,” Henie said.

“You wouldn't have!” Karen countered.

“Oh yes, I would have,” Henie declared.

“Don't think of doing it now. I didn't like one cat in the house. I don't want a house full of cats,” Karen said.

“You really don't know anything about cats, do you? I can't move Sock and her family now. She might stop taking care of the kittens. That means they have to stay where they are until Sock moves them,” Henie said with disdain. “She seems content right where she is. Matter a fact, this old manger has seen plenty of kittens.”

Karen narrowed her eyes at Henie. “And you know this fact how?”

Henie said in exasperation. “Just look around. One time this was a working barn used for cattle and horses. Cats were welcome by Clell to keep down the mice and rats.”

“That's true, but Sock isn't doing her job. I just saw a live rat,” Karen argued.

“She has more on her mind than hunting food right now,” defended Henie. “I'm going back to the house and get her pan. It should be here close so she doesn't have to be far from her kittens.”

As they walked back across the yard, Henie asked, “You said Amy would be coming. How long before she comes for me?”