HAS ANYONE SEEN GBRIEL THIS MORNING?”
Maggie dropped by the Cartwrights’ front door to ask if they had seen her son.
Mister Earl got up from the dining room table to greet Maggie. “Last I seen him, he was milling around in the barn,” he replied as he swiped at the biscuit crumbs on his shirt. “Chasing some little critter around.”
“That boy hasn’t eaten yet, and it’s about time to leave,” Maggie said with a little agitation in her voice.
“Gabriel!” She paused to listen from the Cartwrights’ front porch. “Gabriel Clarke, you need to come eat. It’s time to leave!” That’s when she saw her son running from the back of the barn. He bounded right past her up the front porch steps.
“Hi, Mom,” he said nonchalantly. He walked through the front door, and Maggie watched Gabriel march to the Cartwrights’ table and put one of Miss Vonda’s biscuits in his mouth and another in his pocket. Then he blitzed toward the front door again.
“And where do you think you’re going?” his mother asked.
“Back out to play.”
“Don’t you remember? We’re going to the farmer’s market with Mister Earl and Miss Vonda.”
“Great! I’ll go wait in the truck.”
Miss Vonda stepped out of the kitchen after rinsing the last of the breakfast dishes. She always packed a picnic basket of food for the trip to the farmer’s market. It was only about an hour away, but Miss Vonda made it her mission in life to make sure nobody ever got too hungry. Maggie knew she usually packed homemade rolls and jam, apples, sliced cucumbers, and carrots from the garden.
It was 7:20 a.m. and time for them to roll out on a calm and cool morning in early October. The sun was breaking through a few scattered clouds and warming the day slowly but surely.
Every few weeks or so they’d load up the old pickup and make the trip of discovery and adventure a few towns over to the All County Farmer’s Market. It was always a highlight for Gabriel and one of the few times he experienced life outside of school or the farm. There was a lot more going on out there than he knew about.
Farmers from all over the county were there, selling their fresh fruits and vegetables, but the farmer’s market was much more than that. There were quilt-makers, livestock auctions, clogging competitions, woodworkers, and corn dogs to die for. Some folks rented space to sell their knickknacks or stuff they no longer wanted.
On this Saturday morning, the Cartwrights and Maggie made their way out of the screen door as it slammed behind them. They didn’t need to lock up the house; this was Cairo. They walked down the front porch steps and headed to the truck.
Gabriel was already sitting in the truck bed with his legs crossed, finishing off his biscuit. He looked at Mister Earl, gave one nod of his head, and smiled. Mister Earl got in the driver’s side and waited while the two ladies opened the passenger door. Miss Vonda got in first, hoisting her stout frame up while holding her basket of goodies. Maggie, wearing one of her white farm dresses with the small blue flowers, got in next. She had a natural beauty and grace about her. With her tan skin, brown eyes, and long, dirty-blond hair, she always got a lot of looks from the men at the market, but she didn’t pay much attention. Mister Earl cranked up the truck and put it in gear.
“Good day for the market,” he said to anyone who would listen. He popped the clutch, and away they went down the bumpy driveway. Before they made it off of the farm, Gabriel poked his head into the passenger window, his hair blowing in the breeze.
“Can I get a corn dog today?” he asked loudly.
“Yes,” replied his mother. “Now sit down before you fall out.” Maggie smiled contentedly as they made their way to the main road.
After their seventy-minute rumble through rolling farmsteads, they arrived. It was just nearing nine o’clock, and there was already a good crowd.
Gabriel stood up in the back of the truck, peering over the cab with excitement as they parked their car in a dusty field. Some of the exhibitors had set up their booths in the covered areas, while others just backed up their trucks in a row and sold their goods from the tailgate.
There were about eight rows of open-air buildings and a covered livestock area where cows, pigs, chickens, and other domestic animals were sold. Depending on which way the wind blew, visitors smelled either livestock or the heaven-sent fragrance of corn dogs in the fryer.
Maggie was grateful that Gabriel was now having more good days than bad ones. Life still wasn’t easy for them, but days like this one made the journey worth the struggle.
As soon as Mister Earl put the truck in park, Gabriel jumped out and ran ahead.
“Wait for us, Gabriel!” Maggie shouted with a grin.
“Well, somebody’s excited today,” Miss Vonda said as she scooted down the bench seat.
“Come on, Ma!” Mister Earl urged.
Miss Vonda just glared at him. It took her a little longer due to her short stature. They made their way to the first row of buildings to take in the sights and see what treasures they might find.
They spent the first part of the morning wandering through the livestock barn and watching the steer auction. Then they made their way to Miss Vonda’s favorite area, the Quilt Shack. The handmade quilts were so elaborate and perfect that one would think that the whole idea of quilts originated with the All County Farmer’s Market.
“I love the way it smells in here,” Gabriel said as he breathed in deeply, lifting his nose in the air. He often commented that these ladies smelled like cinnamon and that he wondered if you had to have your hair in a bun to make quilts.
“I’m going to the vegetables,” Mister Earl announced. He could take only so much of the arts and crafts section. “Gabriel, you want to pick out some beans?”
Gabriel immediately looked at his mom.
“Stay close to Mister Earl,” Maggie said firmly. Gabriel jumped at the chance to spend time with Mister Earl. He was like a grandpa, maybe even like Grandpa Isaac, who used to run the Big Water Adventure Camp back in Corley Falls.
Gabriel and Mister Earl spent a solid hour looking at all the fresh vegetables and picking out two pounds of green beans. Gabriel loved to snap the beans to check for freshness. After they finished loading their haul into the back of the truck, they headed back to catch the clogging competition, where they knew they’d find Miss Vonda and Maggie.
They found them in the last row as the final act, the Cottonwood Cloggers, took the stage. They were the best around. Most people said they always won because they put the cutest kids in front. Everybody cheered wildly as they finished their impressive routine.
“Mom. Mom. Mom!” Gabriel got louder and louder as he yanked on Maggie’s sleeve. “Can we get a corn dog now?” He didn’t seem to care about seeing who won the clogging competition. His stomach was growling, and the smell of fried corn dogs filled the air.
“Let’s wait to see who wins,” said his mother. “They’re getting ready to make the announcement now.”
The master of ceremonies came on the loudspeaker. “And the blue ribbon goes to. . . the Cottonwood Cloggers!” Gabriel gave a halfhearted clap or two and then grabbed Maggie’s arm.
“Mom, I’m starving!”
“Okay, we’re going,” Maggie replied.
The four of them made their way over to Cappy’s Corn Dogs, always a highlight of the trip. Cappy, a skinny man in his seventies with wrinkled skin and sunken cheeks, had been selling his tasty corn dogs at the All County Farmer’s Market for seventeen years. Nobody was sure if Cappy could eat his own corn dogs because he had only three teeth left—two on the bottom and one on the top.
“Corn dogs, corn dogs! Git yer yellow mustard and corn dogs!” he bellowed like an auctioneer.
He wore a dingy black-and-white striped railroad conductor’s cap. Word had it that Cappy used to be an old steam engine captain in New Mexico. Or maybe he just made that up to sell corn dogs. Either way, the shtick worked.
“Why does he shout like he’s getting punched in the stomach?” Gabriel asked his mother as they waited in a long line.
“He’s trying to get customers,” Maggie said through a chuckle. “Looks like he has plenty of those. Look how long the line is.”
Maggie smiled contentedly, grateful for a good day, appreciative that they were making a happy memory. Holding hands and swinging them like two kids, they waited in line with Miss Vonda for their very own Cappy corn dog.
Gabriel dug into his corn dog fiercely, occasionally splattering yellow mustard on his shirt, but he didn’t care. They ate as they contentedly strolled past the vendors and their wares.
Miss Vonda finished off the last bite of her corn dog. “Earl must be buying a lot more vegetables for him to be gone this long,” she said.
“Oh, look at these beautiful handbags,” Maggie said with a longing in her voice. She didn’t have the money for such luxuries, but she loved to browse. “Look at the stitching. And the leather is so soft.” She ran her hand over one of the bags.
“That there is gen-yew-ine deer hide. Killed, cleaned, and crafted by yours truly,” said the man in the booth.
Maggie didn’t dare ask how much. She was just admiring the beauty of the handbag.
“Gabriel, someday when you have lots of money, you can buy your momma one of these,” Maggie said to Gabriel with a grin. Except he wasn’t there. She spun her head back around, looking for her son.
“Gabriel,” she said loudly.
“Gabriel!” This time she shouted.
“I didn’t see him leave,” said Miss Vonda.
Her heart sank as she looked in every direction. Mild panic set in as she kept calling his name loudly, but he was nowhere in sight. Miss Vonda turned and walked quickly to the next row of buildings. She stood at a four-way intersection to see if she could find Gabriel. Maggie did the same one row over.
“Gabriel. . . Gabriel Clarke!” Maggie stood on her tippy-toes and peered over the crowd to the last row—and there he was, about twenty-five yards down the way. He was standing, mesmerized, in front of a booth.
“I found him!” Maggie yelled to Miss Vonda as she walked furiously toward him. She picked up the pace to a jog, and when she got to him, Maggie grabbed his left arm and spun him around.
“You gotta tell me when you want to go see something! Don’t run off like that! You’re gonna give your momma a heart attack!”
Gabriel didn’t respond. He just looked at her, smiled, and pointed. At the top of the booth, hanging crooked by one nail, was an old-fashioned, hand-carved sign made out of a piece of driftwood that read “Magic River Marbles.”
Maggie had never seen this booth, although they had visited the market many times. It was fronted by a trough made from rough-hewn wood. Inside the trough was crystal clear water, about eight inches deep. The sunlight hit the water in an intriguing way, making it look as if it were actually moving. Maggie could see the reflection of hundreds of beautiful marbles scattered among a bed of smooth gray river stones throughout the trough.
“They look like stars,” Gabriel said with wonder as he peered down into the water.
“Twenty-five cents a handful, and that includes a pouch.” A kind and wise voice emanated from behind the trough. A large man with a flowing white beard and locks, wearing well-worn denim overalls, made his way to a rocking chair. He lowered himself slowly and fell back with a sigh. Then he propped his feet up on a wooden crate and rested his right hand over the side of the trough. He twirled the water with his fingers and motioned to Gabriel, who was staring into the water.
“Go ahead, young man. Pick up some marbles. See what you think.”
Gabriel immediately reached down and ran his hands through the watery channel. He desperately wanted to select just the right ones. He pulled out three large Aggies. The marbles were clear with beautiful streaks of blue and gray. Gabriel took one between his left thumb and forefinger. Squinting with one eye, he lifted the marble to the light as if looking through a gun scope.
“Those are magic marbles, boy. If you look close, you’ll see. . . they have The River in them. Yeah, The River gives the marbles their beauty.”
The old man motioned to Gabriel to hand him an Aggie, which he held into the light.
“Legend has it if you put these marbles under your bed while you sleep and think real hard on the good things, they’ll give you wonderful dreams.”
He handed the Aggie back to Gabriel. He put his feet down, leaned forward, and raised his eyebrows. With a little mystery in his voice he declared, “I’m talking about dreams where you’ll have the courage to follow your heart, and nothing will stop you. The River is alive, you know. It never stops moving. Every time you look at each marble, you’ll see something you haven’t seen before. That’s the magic of The River in there.”
Maggie looked down at Gabriel.
Without moving, still staring at the marble, Gabriel said, “Mom, can I? Can I buy some marbles?”
Without hesitation, Maggie reached into the pocket of her skirt and pulled out a handful of coins.
“Here, Gabe,” she said as she lowered her hand and offered it to Gabriel.
With wet fingers, he picked out the only quarter in the handful of coins and immediately passed it to the old man, who handed him a leather pouch about the size of a baseball.
“Fill it up, young man. . . as many as you can stuff in there.”
Gabriel dropped in the three Aggies and then took his time examining several marbles in the trough. One by one, he dipped his hand into the water and dropped the marbles into his pouch. He stuffed his pouch so full that he could barely close the drawstring.
“It was a pleasure doing business with you, son. I hope you enjoy them.” The old man gazed at the boy with a generous smile on his face.
“What do you say, Gabriel?” his mother asked.
Gabriel finally took his eyes off of the marbles, looked up at the kind man, and said, “Thank you.”
The old man chuckled like Santa Claus.
“All the best, young man. All the best.”
Gabriel and Maggie, along with Miss Vonda, headed back toward the lemonade stand, where they met up with Mister Earl. They made their way back to the pickup truck to start the journey home. Gabriel jumped in the back right away. He sat down, put his legs together, and began taking his marbles out one at a time to look at them and count them.
“You better put them back in the pouch while we drive,” his mother said before she got in the truck.
After they pulled out of the parking lot, Miss Vonda made an observation. “When that boy sees something he wants, he just goes after it, doesn’t he? My goodness, though. What a scare that was when we couldn’t find him.”
Maggie didn’t reply as she stared out the window in a daze. Memories of life at The River—life with John— came flooding back. She remembered how much she used to love living near The River. There was a freshness in the air and an adventure to life when they were together at Corley Falls. But that was years ago. She hadn’t been around The River since Gabriel was less than a year old. After a few minutes Miss Vonda spoke up again.
“You okay, dear?”
“Oh. . . uh. . . yeah, I’m okay.”
“Was it just the marbles? That boy is crazy about marbles.”
Maggie paused for a second, then looked at Miss Vonda with a thoughtful smile.
“His daddy used to play marbles with him. I think it’s more than just the marbles, but I don’t know. It was a good day, Miss Vonda. . . a good day.”
The next time they went to the All County Farmer’s Market, Maggie and Gabriel searched for the person they called the River Marble Man. He was nowhere to be found.
They dropped by the main office to ask the whereabouts of the old man with a white beard and white hair who sold marbles sitting at the bottom of a water-filled trough.
The manager said he didn’t know who they were talking about, nor could he find a record of a man going by that description.
“Sounds like a mystery to me,” said the man in charge. “Apparently, he was just passing through town.”