Now in 1947, at almost sixty, an age when many farmers had accumulated enough to leave the farm work behind, Will O’Shaughnessy had retired, too. It wasn’t because he could afford a life of leisure. He hadn’t even saved enough to buy Mary a new apron. Grandpa had been right all along. He didn’t have what it takes to manage a business.
All he had left was Mary and the girls. And if it weren’t for the generosity of his son-in-law, he wouldn’t have a house to live in. Sharon and Ed Meadows resided on the family farm one mile east of Logan Junction. Ed owned his deceased parents’ house in the village, and that’s where Will and Mary lived now that he’d lost everything. He couldn’t even afford a rent payment, and without Ruby and Catherine’s help, they wouldn’t have food money.
Ruby had completed her program at Mount Sinai School of Nursing in Milwaukee, and, even though she’d worked twenty hours a week at a local laundry, she had graduated at the top of her class and was now head nurse at the Dodgeville General Hospital, seven miles to the west of Logan Junction. She’d been offered higher paying jobs out east, but she came home to help her family.
After leaving nursing school, Catherine completed a preparation program at the Iowa County Normal School and was now in her third year teaching at a country school two miles south of Logan Junction. Catherine was fortunate to board at a farm home near her school. Nevertheless, she walked the two miles to her parents’ home each Friday after school, where she could wash and iron her clothes in preparation for the next week.
Catherine arrived one cold winter afternoon glowing with news to share. That afternoon, Jonathon Hays, the Logan Junction principal, had called to her as he was leaving his schoolhouse. After introducing himself, he surprised her with a request that she accompany him to the next school dance. She told Will that she was astonished by this handsome young man’s boldness. “Why, we were never even properly introduced,” Catherine had said. But she couldn’t have been too offended by his brashness, Will thought. They’d been dating ever since.
Will knew that he couldn’t get by without his daughters’ help. And to make matters worse, Mary, with little money to spend, worked harder than ever to make ends meet. Except for his flower gardens and some yard work, Will found little to do. So he filled his days with visits to Kelly’s Bar, a short walk up the street to Logan Junction’s small business district.
Sharon had quit teaching and stayed busy helping Ed on the farm. Ruby worked long hours at the hospital, so she was seldom home. Will’s solace through these lonesome days was his time with Catherine. They worked together in the yard when she was home for the weekend. And when she was out at night, he sat in his big horsehair smoking his Meerschaum and waiting for her return. He’d discovered long ago that he was the family’s designated worrier.
Will lifted himself off his chair when he heard voices on the front step. The door squeaked open and Catherine’s footsteps floated toward him in the parlor. He tapped his Meerschaum against the table leg and dumped the ashes into his tray. He pulled out his pocket watch. Eleven forty-five.
Catherine peeked into the room.
“So my Cinderella’s back from the ball.”
“I knew you’d be in here.”
“Was he a prince or a frog?”
“It was wonderful. I felt like a puppet in his arms.”
“My little girl’s in love.”
“Oh, Daddy, Jonathon wants to see me again tomorrow.”
“So soon? This must be serious.”
“He wants to show me something. I have no idea.”
“You’ve gotta be careful of these older men, my dear. You know the trouble your mother got into.”
“He wants to meet after church. For only an hour. He is a bit strange.”
As Will got to know her beau, he was delighted by his daughter’s choice. Jonathon was a tall, handsome man. He looked like Gary Cooper, Will thought, but was far more loquacious. And when Will went riding with Jonathon in his wonderful Bugatti, he forgot all his troubles. What a beautiful car! Will had never seen anything quite like it. It sure put his Model Ts to shame. Jonathon said that cars like his had won fame on the race circuit, but he drove sensibly when Will was aboard. Still, Will couldn’t keep from shouting “Whoa” whenever they approached a stop sign.
Sometimes, with little else to do, Will sat on a hard chair in the kitchen and watched his family at work. Today, Mary and Catherine were at the kitchen counter, making bread for the week. Mary mixed flour, yeast, water, egg, and honey for a new batch, while Catherine kneaded the last batch of dough, getting it ready to set out to rise.
They were so busy at their work that they didn’t notice when he slipped out the door. He wasn’t of much consequence anymore. He walked to the small tool shed out back. After fifteen minutes of sharpening his scythe, he hung it back on the wall and looked for more tools to sharpen. It seemed that was about all that he did anymore. He must have the sharpest cutting tools in town. He strolled through his yard to see if he’d missed any weeds during his cutting foray the day before. He could see that scything today would sever nothing but air. He had garden work, but he’d promised Catherine to save it until tomorrow when she could help.
His brief expedition brought him back to the front sidewalk. He couldn’t think of a thing more to do, so he turned up the walkway on that familiar path toward Kelly’s Bar.
Will pulled a stool to the bar and called, “Kelly, pour me a golden brew, will you please?”
“A Mineral Spring?”
“Is there any other kind?”
Will hadn’t taken his first sip when Pete Baumgartner approached, slung an arm around Will’s shoulder, leaned heavy against him, and slurred, “I hope you’re in a generous mood today, Will O’Shaughnessy.”
They called Pete, the town drunk, “Bum.” At first they called him that because of his name, but now “Bum” described his favorite pastime: bummin’ drinks.
“Will, I’m dry as that desert over there in Africa.” Bum’s breath, which smelled like a newly tapped beer keg, put the lie to that claim. “How about just one drink?”
Will signaled to Kelly to pour another glass. Buying a beer was worth it to get the bum off him. To avoid another assault, Will hurriedly finished his drink and slid off his stool. “Well, Kelly, I better get on home. My woman’s not too happy these days.”
“Never seemed like a complainer to me.”
“Oh, she doesn’t say much. She works so hard that she doesn’t have the time. But she must be unhappy. Can’t blame her, I guess. Living with a failure. She deserves better.”
* * *
Will placed the lily in the hole, spooned dirt over its roots, and poured water into the loose soil. Catherine looked up from her weeding. “Daddy, I love your gardens. It’ll be the prettiest yard in town.”
“Well, my dear, it’s all the farming I have left. It’ll not provide a livin’, but it does feed the soul. I never had time for it before.”
A robin bounced across the lawn, searching for its morning meal. Catherine laughed and recited:
“A bird came down the walk:
He did not know I saw;
He bit an angle-worm in halves
And ate the fellow raw.”
“You and your Dickinson,” Will said. “You always have a ditty to tell.”
Catherine’s smile turned to a frown. “Daddy, why doesn’t Ruby like Jonathon?”
“Hard to say, my dear. I’m sure she wants what’s best for you. Doesn’t think it’s Jonathon, I guess. Why? I have no idea. I like the young man myself.”
“She won’t even ride in his wonderful Bugatti.”
“Now, that’s some car. I’ve never seen anything like it. Maybe she’s jealous. Jealousy’s awful, my dear. It can do horrible things to a person.”
“I try to include her, Daddy.”
“But she doesn’t have a beau.”
Will hated to see this fine young man come between his two youngest daughters. He knew that Ruby was so busy at her work that she didn’t have time for men. Fresh from nursing school and being charged with managing older, more experienced nurses was a heavy burden. Her dislike for Jonathon surprised him. He had never seen Ruby show jealousy before. But maybe this clash was a good thing. This time, his little girl didn’t let Ruby make the decision for her. Catherine was showing some spunk.
Will knew that he had to get hold of himself, had to tame his drinking. He thought about Jesse during their youth, how Jesse had ruined his wedding day, how he had intruded on their home. All because of the liquor. And Will couldn’t resist either. When he began stewing over his desperate situation, his feet led him toward Kelly’s.
Kelly poured a beer. “How’re your gardens coming? I hear they’ll soon take over Logan Junction.”
“The neighbor’s aren’t complaining, are they?”
“Haven’t heard complaints. They do talk about them, though.”
“I miss farming, Kelly. I miss my horses and the smell of sweet clover. Why, I even miss the darn milkin’.”
“Must be some farmer could use your help.”
“My brother Frank needs help. He asked if I’d come over for thrashing. I’ll probably help him out. But it’s not the same, Kelly. There’s nothing like your own land and your own animals. It’s like you owning your bar, instead of just being bartender.”
“There’s lots of headaches. Can’t wait till I retire.”
“You’ll miss it, Kelly.”
He felt depressed as he slowly walked toward home.
Every cloud is supposed to have a silver lining, Will thought, and this cloud’s silver was yard time with Catherine. She told him she’d help when she got back from her date, so he began weeding the lily bed while he waited.
Will was beginning to think she’d forgotten when Catherine raced around the house toward him. Now, what could be bothering that girl? Will levered himself off the ground. She’s like a whirling dervish since she met that man.
“Daddy! It was terrible! I’ve never been so scared! He saved my life! We coulda been killed!”
“Slow down, girl. Make some sense.”
“We went to see our old farm. When we walked across Temby’s pasture to get fresh water, his bull chased us. Jonathon saved my life. He whooped and hollered to draw the bull away from me, and then he went racing across the pasture, the bull hard on his heals. I thought he was a goner. You should have seen him, Daddy. He’s my hero.”
“Your Prince Charming, now is he?”
“Just like my story books.”
“You’re in love with that young man.”
“I think so, Daddy.” Will saw her frown, and then she looked up at him. “I’m not sure.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Later Dad.” She reached up and kissed him on the cheek, then turned toward the house. “We’re going to a movie. He’ll be here in fifteen minutes. I’ve gotta get changed.”
Will watched Catherine race into the house. Seemed as though he’d been replaced in Catherine’s hierarchy of affection, but he didn’t mind. He’d never seen his youngest daughter so energized.
* * *
Will knew he should go home. Supper would be on the table. “Just one more, Kelly. Then I gotta go.”
Kelly poured a beer. “People are talking about that new principal. Running around in that blue bomb of his. Pretty car. Some people like it. Some don’t like it so much. It rattles the glassware and assaults the ears. Your daughter’s beau, isn’t he?”
“Jonathon Hays? Nice young man. I’ve heard the kids like him, too.”
“That they do. They also like boogie-woogie, and their parents don’t like that either.”
Will hustled toward home. He’d made plans to enjoy this day in the yard with Catherine. Dressed in denim work trousers and one of his old long-sleeved shirts, she met him at the front walk, took his arm, and led him around the house. She didn’t say a word about alcohol on his breath. Mary would have noticed.
“I’ll get the clippers,” she said as she turned toward the tool shed. “I’ll meet you at the flower beds.”
Will was on his knees, inspecting his roses, when Catherine arrived with the shears. She reached them toward him. “Show me how to prune the roses.”
He took the clippers from her hand and tried it. “First, you cut away the damaged wood.” He spread the bush and reached deep inside the plant to clip an old branch. “This one was stressed by winter. You can see it’s dead. Just cut down to the green shoot.” He clipped away a few more darkened branches. “Now, I’ll cut the healthy branches to about half their length, maybe less for the mature ones.” He cut each remaining branch. “If you do it right, they’ll come back more beautiful than ever.”
Will handed the shears to Catherine, grabbed a shovel, and walked to his lily beds, which made up his rainbow garden. “If I loosen the soil, the rains will soak the ground but not run into the grass. I don’t need more water there. I’ve already got too much mowing.”
Catherine reached for a spade and dropped to her knees beside him. “No one in town has gardens so lovely. I love helping you make them beautiful. Maybe it’s better than farming. We’ve got time to talk.”
“It’s an ill wind that blows no good,” Will said.
“Why do people look down on farmers, Daddy?”
“I suppose it seems we’re grubbing in muck most of the time. Like it doesn’t take brains. Maybe it’s because the farmer’s been subservient through the ages, not his own master. Why do you ask?”
“Jonathon’s father—he’s a professor, you know—seems to think we’re backward. I gave him a piece of my mind. Ruby would have been proud.”
“So my little girl stood up to him. You’ve developed some spunk, my dear. And I like it. How’d your Jonathon take it?”
“I think he was surprised. He didn’t complain. Maybe his dad intimidates him a bit, too. But Jonathon admires him.”
“That’s good. A son should respect his parents.”
“Daddy, Jonathon’s getting serious, I think. I don’t know what to do.”
“Not sure, are you now?”
“No, I’m not. I love being with him, but he wants to go back to the city, and I’m not sure about that.”
“Farmers are leavin’ for the city all the time. I’m afraid we’ll see lots more. They’ll never be happy. I may be impoverished, but I’ll die in the country. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“I’m not cut out to be a city girl.”
“Sometimes we’re afraid of things we don’t know. If you love that young man, you’ve got to trust your heart, my dear.”
He wanted to hold his daughter and tell her it’d be okay. He didn’t want her to go. He didn’t want to lose her. But he wouldn’t say that. She was beginning to show some spunk, and that was a good thing.
* * *
Will clanked his glass on the bar. “Fill ’er again, Kelly. Might swell drink into a stupor. I’m good’s dead, anyhow.”
“Will, you’ve had enough. How ’bout a cup of coffee? I don’t want your old lady after me. She’d like to shut me down.”
A voice called down the counter, “Over here, Kelly. Take care of your customers.”
Kelly hurried down the bar.
“Pour me a Potosi, Kelly. Who’s that down there? He’s two sheets to the wind.”
“Oh, that’s O’Shaughnessy. Will O’Shaughnessy. Havin’ a tough time these days.”
“Ed Meadows’ father-in-law?”
“That’s right.”
“The old souse, living off a man who’s going broke. Doesn’t he know that Ed’s in financial straits?”
Will hated the thought of hurting his daughter. He staggered out the door, his last drink untouched. He stumbled toward home. He hadn’t reached the end of the block when he tripped over an up-heaved edge of pavement and tumbled over the curb onto the road. He felt blood running down his forehead. With some effort he pulled his handkerchief from his back pocket and pressed it against the cut with one hand while he pushed himself to a sitting position with the other. He reached toward the curb. He reached again and came up empty. The cement slab wavered before him. He shook his head vigorously to remove the cobwebs and, when he reached out again, someone grabbed his hand.
As Bum pulled Will to his feet, he said, “Will, you’ve had too much booze. You’ve got to go easy, man. It’s not good for you.”
Bum eased his arm under Will’s shoulder, lifted him, and helped him home. Although Will pleaded his innocence, saying that he was a bit unsteady because of the blow to his head, he knew that Mary wasn’t one bit convinced. And he knew better, too. Preached to and carried home by the town drunk. He couldn’t go on this way.