Circle of Grace Chapter 11 Boys Come Courting

In mid-march, shortly before the wildflower bloom, we moved out to the ranch with our grandparents. Spring came early that year. The bluebonnets, Indian paintbrushes, and buttercups swabbed the hills with color. Mother Bess always said, “When the flowers bloom, so comes hope.”

Suzanna’s leg was healing nicely. She used a pair of crutches that Father Joe had fashioned out of a large piece of hardwood. He had used an ax to hone out the form of a “V” on the top, but then, preferring his whittling knife, he sat out on the porch until dark every night, smoothing and refining the shape of the two crutches. Suzanna had been using them for near to a month by the time we moved. It didn’t come easy for her at first, and she took quite a few spills. But once she got the hang of it, we raced in the yard, and in a flash, she could almost beat me.

When word got out that we were fixing to move, we had more visitors than we’d ever had before. Townsfolk would bring us jams, jellies, and sweet and sour pickles, and someone even brought us a flask of blackberry wine. We sat down to some mighty agreeable meals over the last few months we spent in town.

Jimmy and Frank would drop in regularly to see how we were doing. I think Frank is sweet on Suzanna. Jimmy tags along when they come over. Frank is real smart. He always helps us out when we have questions about our schoolwork.

Mother Bess would open up the back door when she saw them coming down the path towards the house. “Come right in, boys, would you like some Johnny Appleseed cakes?” Frank would remove his hat and hold it in both hands. “Mighty obliged to you, ma’am, thank you.”

Mother Bess hollered, “Ruth, Suzanna, you have some guests here for a visit.” We would come out of our room, and we all sat down at the kitchen table. It didn't matter that it was worn and bowed in the middle, the kitchen’s workhorse. Standing in the center of the room, we used it for cooking, eating, studying, or just jawin’. Sitting at that pine table, we made all our crucial family decisions. If it could talk, there would be tales to be told.

After we settled, Mother Bess had delivered a plate of her famous pastries filled with applesauce. Frank would invariably ask, “Ruth, what are you studying today?” With a roll of my eyes, I would answer, “Arithmetic.”

“I am pretty good at arithmetic. Do you want some help?” Before you knew it, he would be explaining. However, I suspected it was all a ruse to impress Suzanna because he would glance at her to make sure she was looking as he started teaching me. But, I do have to say he did know how to make my ciphers sound simple. But, as a result, I got better at my studies.

Jimmy, on the other hand, ate his cookie and then excused himself. He would tip his hat and announce his departure by saying, “I'm not much on book learning. I think I’ll go outside.” He was likely to join Father in the barnyard. Sometimes they would sit and whittle together.

Suzanna sat at the table with us, her leg propped up. She snuck little peeks over her book at Frank, pretending like she didn’t care a lick, but I’ve got her figured out.

On the Sunday before we moved, Jimmy and Frank came over after church, still dressed in their Sunday clothes. They knocked on the front door instead of coming around to the kitchen door as they normally would have. Mother Bess answered the door. We were unsure of what to think of their strange behavior. Frank immediately spoke, “Missus Hale, Jimmy, and I would like to come to see your daughter, Suzanna, and Ruth when you move. I listened from around the corner and heard the merriment in Mother Bess’s voice, “Right this way, young gents. I will tell the girls they have callers.” I skittered back into our room and told Suzanna what I had heard. She replied. “Well, we'd better see what they are up to.” Wobbly, Suzanna stood up and reached for her crutches. Mother Bess appeared at our door and said, “Girls, I believe two young gentlemen are here to see you both.”

“Ruth, hand me my Sunday ribbon.” We put the ribbons in our hair and walked into the small nook we called a parlor. The two boys were sitting on our fancy chairs, surrounded by moving boxes, paraphernalia, and the like.

Frank stood up and greeted us, nudging Jimmy to stand up too. We sat awkwardly. I noticed both boys had their hair combed. It looked to me like they had both used a generous amount of hair oil on their heads because their hair was slicked back on their skulls. I looked down and straightened my jumper. Suzanna was always perfect, sat still in her blue woolen frock that Mother had made her last winter.

Frank spoke first, “I... ahm.... I mean... we wanted to come over this fine afternoon to say our good-byes. We know you will be leaving for the ranch tomorrow. We were wondering if you might let us visit you?” He stammered, “Of course, when you get settled.” Then they each handed us a gift wrapped with twine.

I opened mine first and found a muscled panther carved out of wood. Jimmy must have been carving it with Father on the days they had visited us. He had polished and rubbed the torso, silky smooth, and stained the wood black. He piped up, “I done colored it with walnut juice.”

“Thank you, Jimmy, it is just beautiful, truly.” I marveled at the powerful beast. He bowed his head and blushed, saying, “ain't nothing.”

Clearly impatient, Suzanna spoke up. “Now, it is my turn. She pursed her lips, carefully untied her larger box, and lifted the lid to reveal another package wrapped in brown paper. She carefully peeled back the wrapping to uncover a book. On the face of the linen-covered book was a silly lion that wore glasses. His red mane was gathered up and topped off with a green bow. The tip of his tail was also red, set against a green background.

Suzanna spoke, “Frank, what is this?”

“It just came off the printing press. I thought you might like to read it.”

“I would, I mean, I do,” she said. Then I heard her read the title aloud in a quizzical voice, “The Wizard of Oz by Frank L Baum.”

Turning it over, she said, “It looks wonderful. Thank you ever so much.” I watched her as she began to leaf through the book. She looked at a few pages and then held it tightly to her breast. She looked at Frank and whispered, “Thank you, I’ll cherish it.”

Mother Bess walked into the room with some lemonade. “What’s going on here? Is it Christmas?”