Chapter 9

 

The rest of the week was uneventful. The girls played with the kittens. Shana declared that was one of her chores assigned by Abigail. She had to keep the kittens tame so Abigail could play with them when she came home without the kittens hissing at her. May Jean grumbled that she would like fun chores like this one at her house.

One afternoon, Shana asked May Jean if she wanted to see the remains of the soddy where Gracie lived when her parents homesteaded Three Oaks farm. As they walked down the lane, Spot followed but only for a few minutes. He stopped, sniffed the air and took off through the brush. Barking and yipping, he jumped under a bush and flushed out a rabbit. After that, he chased the rabbit through the trees until the rabbit hid. Shana tried to call Spot back, but the dog kept going. He thrashed through the undergrowth and yipped as he trailed that rabbit or some other animal.

By the time the girls walked back home, Spot was there to meet them. The girls tried to pat him, but the dog was covered in cockle burrs.

Shana went to the barn and found the horses curry comb. May Jean took turns with her, combing Spot until they retrieved most of the burrs out of his fur.

Another afternoon, Shana asked if May Jean would like to see the pond where they fished.

May Jean was all for that. “Think we can go wading?”

“Maybe. Aunt Gracie said I had to be careful not to fall in around the edges of the bank. She didn't say I couldn't wade in the pond. I think the lower end is shallow enough,” Shana said. “We have to come back in time to gather the eggs. That's part of my chores.”

Spot took off after the girls. He ran around them, and when he got too far ahead, he ran back to meet them. Shana said, “We got to do something about Spot. He don't stay close to us good enough. He will be covered in burrs again. I'm going back to the barn and get a piece of rope I saw hanging on a nail.”

Shana ran back to the barn while May Jean kept her arms around Spot's neck. Shana put the loop end of the rope over Spot's head.

As they walked through the pasture, Spot was forced to stay with them. Shana tied the dog to a chock cherry sprout while they wadded in the pond. He barked and tugged on the rope hard enough to bend the sprout, but he couldn't get loose. When the girls had enough of wading and splashing water at each other, they rolled their trouser legs back down and headed home.

By the time Gracie saw them at chore time, their clothes had dried. Shana and May Jean came across the pasture with Spot in the lead, pulling Shana along at a fast clip. Gracie waited until they came in the barn yard.

“Youngun, what you doing to that dog?” She asked.

“Spot follows us everywhere we go,” Shana said.

“So what is the rope for?” Gracie asked.

“The rope tis what helps him follow me,” Shana answered.

“Unhuh, looks to me like the other way around. You're following Spot,” Gracie said. “Just see you don't be mean to that dog.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Shana said quietly.

By Sunday morning, May Jean didn't show any signs of being homesick yet. At breakfast, Gracie said, “We're going to Locked Rock for church this morning. Plan on eating dinner at Moser Mansion. You going with us, May Jean for the whole day, or you want let off at home as we go by?”

May Jean said quietly, “I think I'd like to go along.”

“Do we need to tell your mother where you're at?” Melinda asked.

May Jean nodded slowly. “No, she has so many of us to take care of she ain't missing me. Besides, she knows I'm in good hands.”

“You do need a change of clothes, dear. You've worn those trousers and that shirt all week,” Melinda said. “We might ought to stop by your home, and let you change since we're going to church. You need to wear something nicer than what you have on.”

“Do we have to stop at my house?” May Jean fretted.

Shana said, “She can wear one of my dresses. I brought two.”

“I can,can't I?” May Jean said, brightening up.

“Well, all right, if that is what you want to do,” Melinda assented.

“Before you girls put on clean dresses, wash up good,” Gracie ordered.

The ride to Locked Rock was a pleasant one. The feel of the light breeze on their faces was refreshing. After a week on the farm, Melinda thought it felt good to be going somewhere again. she prattled on. “It's too quiet on the farm. I'm glad we're going to church this morning. I miss hearing the neighbors' conversations and laughter from my rocker on the front porch. Always some action with riders or buggies going by. More places to go then just to the pond to fish or over to see the Graves family. Stores to shop in, and church to go to.”

Gracie grunted. “That's the whole idea of living on the farm. It's peaceful.”

When they sat down to eat Sunday dinner, Melinda declared it would be good to eat Agnes's cooking again. She was getting tired of eating her own.

As they passed the bowls, Gracie handed Shana the meat platter. “This fried chicken sure smells good, don't it, Shana?”

The girl gave the platter a sad look. “Mama Molly, did any of these chickens have names?”

“I don't think so,” Molly said slowly. “Why did you ask?”

“The Sawyer hens have names. Aunt Gracie introduced me to some of them. I don't want to be eatin' any hens I know personally,” Shana said.

Orie chocked on a drink of water. He coughed before he spoke. “Don't worry, Shana. These chickens are safe to eat. They were all strangers.”

That remark made everyone laugh.

Gracie and Melinda were eager to find out if anything interesting had happened in town while they had been gone.

After lunch, Gracie said she was going over to visit with Earl and Sara Bullock a few minutes. She asked Melinda if she'd like to go along to say hello. Melinda was all for that.

Sara invited them to sit at the kitchen table. While Sara and Melinda talked about the latest gossip, Gracie said to Earl, “I need to talk to you about something. I wondered if you could pass it on to Sheriff Logan for me.”

“Sure, what's wrong?” Earl said, puffing on his pipe.

“I'm not real sure, but I'm uneasy. We've been going for walks around the farm so I can show Melinda and Shana where I grew up. We visited the family cemetery at the end of the lane next to the road. Someone has been digging in it. A small spot right next to my baby brother's grave has been disturbed.”

“That is odd.” Earl stuck his pipe in his mouth and puffed faster.

“We're thinking it might be a fresh grave,” Gracie said.

Earl straightened up. “By gum, the sheriff would like to hear about this.”

“Odder yet was when we saw a woman, all dressed in white, wandering through my timber one night with a lantern. We went to see what she was up to and found her in the cemetery. She was standing over the turned up dirt. She even bent over and patted the soil.”

“Really!”

“Yip, looked to us like, she was mourning over someone buried there. Thing is, no one has asked to bury a body in my cemetery. The spot is a small one like the size of a baby's grave. Has someone lost a baby or young child and reported it to you?”

Earl nodded and took his pipe from his mouth. “No, haven't heard a thing.”

“Could you check with, Sheriff Logan? If he hasn't heard anything about a death, I'd like him to come out and look around.”

“You did recognize the woman?”

“Nope, we weren't close enough, and it was dark. When I yelled at her, she put out the lantern, climbed over the fence and disappeared in the trees before we could get close,” Gracie explained.

“I'll call the sheriff's office in the morning and tell Logan all about this,” Earl said.

“Thanks, Earl. That sure is a load off my mind,” Gracie said.

That afternoon when they drove by Neff Graves's place, one of the boys, Boomer, waved them down. When Gracie whoed the horse, he said, “Mama's wondering when May Jean is coming home?”

“What she want me home for?” May Jean bristled.

“Don't reckon for any reason, but Papa has missed you,” Jeb said, giving her a meaningful look that only May Jean understood.

“Oh. May Jean shrank in the seat beside Shana.

Melinda said, “Maybe you better get out now, dear. We don't want your parents mad at us.”

“What about Shana's dress I'm wearing?”

“Just give it back to Shana the next time you see her,” Gracie said.

Reluctantly, May Jean climbed out of the buggy and waved goodbye to them.

In the middle of the night, a thunder storm came up. Lightning flashed and cracked. Thunder boomed. The wind howled around the house as hard pelting rain beat on the tin roof.

Melinda sat up in bed. “That sounds awful outside.”

“And you're the one who said the country was too quiet. Go back to sleep, and hope this storm blows over soon so it gets quiet around here again,” Gracie mumbled as she turned over on her side.

Shana crawled out of bed and looked out her window at the storm. A flash of lightening lit up the sky and the yard. Near a tree by the lane, Shana saw a small figure dressed in white. The figure walked slowly across the lane. Whoever it was stopped and turned to stare toward the house, before disappearing into the timber.

Shana gripped the sill and stared at the timber. It was a will o wisp just like the ones her folks talked about in Ireland. This one was roaming about in a rain storm. That wasn't good. It being this close to the house was bad, too. Shana debated about waking Gracie. She decided that was a poor idea, knowing how crabby the women were when they were waken out of a sound sleep. They wouldn't believe her story anyway without some proof. She'd keep what she saw to herself and go back to bed.

Monday morning, Gracie asked if anyone would like to go mushroom hunting with her. Shana was all for the outing, but Melinda declined. She said she wanted to bake a cake. She could work on lunch while they were gone.

When Gracie and Shana walked into the timber, Shana stopped and her eyes scanned to the top of the trees. “Sure and the trees are tall.”

“This is an old timber. Been growing here since the beginning of time, I expect,” Gracie said, following the girl's amazed eyes.

“Sure and it tis, the trees are so tall they seem like climbing posts to heaven,” Shana said in awe.

“Nicely put, girl,” Gracie said, impressed.

Deeper into the timber, Gracie showed Shana what to look for when she found a cluster of morels peeking out of the dried leaves. “Don't move, youngun, until you look all around your feet once you spot a mushroom. When you see one morel, there's usually more around you.”

She handed Shana one of the old pillow cases they brought along. “Move over so we can cover more ground.”

Gracie stopped walking and stared at a large hickory nut tree. She patted the rough bark and smiled to herself, like greeting an old friend.

Shana saw the gesture. “Sure and what is it you're thinkin' about, Aunt Gracie?”

“I was just remembering back in time when I was younger. This is my thinking tree,” Gracie said, looking through the leaves to patches of blue sky.

“What is a thinkin' tree?” Shana asked, coming over close.

“When I had a problem bothering me, I came to this tree and sit down to think over my problem. I had the whole place to myself, and no one to bother me. Everyone should have a secret place that is private. Somewhere to get off to when something is worrying them,” Gracie said.

“Can I have a place like that?” Shana asked.

“Sure you can. Just pick you a tree you like, and it's yours,” Gracie said. “Now we best get back to looking for them mushrooms.”

As Shana watched the ground, Gracie's attention turned to a tree. “Lookee, there, girl.”

“At what?” Shana asked as she stared at a snaggled, dead tree.

“The bees sure are out in full force today. See them going in that high hole in the crotch of that tree,” Gracie said excitedly as she pointed out the spot.

“Sure and they are. What about it?”

“That's a honey tree. This fall when the bees have that tree full of honey Thad should come here and rob the tree. Help me remember where this tree is located so we can show him,” Gracie said.

“All right,” Shana said and kept walking.

An animal made a barking sound over Shana's head. Startled, she jumped and looked at the tree above her. “What was that noise?”

“A squirrel warning his friends and the other animals that strangers are in their territory,” Gracie explained.

Suddenly, there was rustling of leaves and creaking limbs. The squirrel sprang from one flimsy tree branch to another. When he reached the end of a long branch, the red furry animal sprang out into mid air and landed in the next tree.

“He's meaning to get out of sight before we get him,” Gracie said, smiling. “Only that ole squirrel don't know I ain't after him. At least not today, because I didn't bring my gun.”

Shana gave her a disbelieving stare. “You shoot squirrels?”

“Sure do. They're good to eat,” Gracie declared.

Shana's look turned to scrutiny of Gracie's face. “Do you eat ever livin', breathin' animal there is?”

“Probably not every one, but back in my young days, Papa was a hunter. When I was old enough, I hunted with him. That's how we had meat for the table. I grew up used to the taste of wild game,” Gracie explained. “Now do you know the difference in wild flowers when you see them?”

“No, I don't.”

“Well when you see a flower let me know. I'll tell you what it is. Most wild flowers are small and delicate compared to house yard flowers,” Gracie said, moving on.

They went back to searching around their feet, not looking very far ahead.

Shana squealed shrilly.

“What's the matter? You see another squirrel?” Gracie asked. Shana didn't answer. Gracie hustled over to her. She shook the pale faced girl's shoulder. “Answer me. Did you step on a snake?”

“They only come out at night. The American ones must have even more audacity than Irish ones.” Shana looked confounded as she pointed a shaky finger ahead of them.

“What are you mumbling about?” Gracie looked in that direction, blinked and looked again. Off in the distance, she barely had time to get a quick glance at a small, white dressed figure. The child like form, in the shadows, seemed to rearrange its shape in the cool timber air. “Someone's out there,” she said in a hushed tone. “Did you get a good look? Let's go see if we can catch up to her.”

“I got no better than you tis to be sure, but I don't want to catch up to her,” Shana whispered.

“Why not? We should find out who it is roaming around in here.”

“To be sure, you don't want to run into that during the day,” Shana said admittedly.

“That what?” Gracie asked.

“That will o wisp,” Shana said seriously.

“What did you say?” Gracie asked.

“A will o wisp. The spirit of a dead person. Usually, they only come out at night. They hide behind trees and float through the air. The size of that one makes me think it was the spirit of a child,” Shana said hoarsely.

“That's nonsense,” Gracie gasped.

Shana shook her head slowly no. “Don't you believe in the spirit world?”

“There are enough things in this world to disturb us without seeing ghosts in the shadows of the night or day. You ever personally see a will o wisp?” Gracie asked, doubtfully.

“Nope, but I have heard about them. People in Ireland see them all the time. Only it was always at night,” Shana said. “Me mother's brother, Patrick, saw one when he was comin' home late one night. A bright light floated before him. On a closer look, he saw the light was a lantern held by a glowin' little figure. Uncle Patrick followed for several miles. Curious he was, until he suddenly found himself standin' on the edge of a great chasm with a roaring torrent of water rushin' below him.

Shana's voice became quieter as she kept her eyes glued to the trees ahead of them. “At that very moment, the lantern carrier leaped across the fissure, raised the light over its head and let out a malicious laugh. After which , the will o wisp blew out the light, leavin' the unfortunate man far from home. He was standin' in pitch darkness at the edge of a precipice. It took him most of the night to get up the courage to back away from the precipice and find his way home. Are we done mushroom huntin' now?”

“We still got some time. Let's go look around. Maybe we can pick up the tracks of whoever that was,” Gracie said.

“You can't be serious. I will not have anything to do with a will o wisp,” Shana cried.

“Listen, what we saw was probably a live person. You're getting worked up over nothing, but we don't have to go after whoever it was. We can walk over a ways and turn back to the house if that makes you feel better,” Gracie said.

Shana shook her head yes. “As long as we're headed in the opposite direction from the will o wisp.” She stopped walking. “Aunt Gracie, I just found a patch of wild flowers. You want to tell me about them.”

Gracie inspected the small rectangle shaped area of droopy, wild flowers by Shana's feet. “That's right strange. Who makes a wild flower bed out here on purpose?”

“How do you know someone did?”

“Cause all the flowers are different kinds. Each of these wild flowers grow in a patch by themselves. That means someone dug these up from somewhere else and planted them all together here,” Gracie said. “Not too long ago, either. See how wilted they are. The plants haven't had time to take root yet.”

“What kind be these?”

“The smaller soft pink flowers are Dutchmen britches. Some say the flowers look like bloomers hung on a clothes line.”

Shana squatted to study the flowers. “Sure and I do see that.”

Gracie pointed to another flower. “This little purple and white one with the wide leaves is an orchid. They are rare. The taller ones in orange are lady slippers. Also, they are called jewel weed, because they sparkle when the dew is on them. They can be boiled, and the juice spread on poison ivy rash to stop the itch.” She lifted one of the wilted plants and looked under it at the darkened earth. The ground was wet. Gracie looked all around her and tilted an ear, listening.

Shana asked in a shaky voice, “Wha'd you hear?”

“Nothing but timber sounds right now. I have the feeling someone is watching us. Girl, those flowers have been watered recently. That wispy person we saw was doing that when we surprised her. She just might be standing close by watching us yet,” Gracie whispered.

“That would be the will o wisp. I want to go back to the house now,” Shana said nervously.

“I reckon that might be a good idea. You know it seems strange to me if the Indians have been here a while that we haven't run into them. I haven't even seen them along the timber edge since we've been here,” Gracie mused as she led the way back through the timber. “Wonder where they got off to.”

“The will o wisp is enough to see for one day. I don't want to see Indians right now,” complained Shana. “I just want to go home.”