Will O Wisp Read online

  The last of her large brood of ragamuffin children, in worn handy me downs, hadn't grown up enough yet to leave home. They dangled their legs off the porch. As the neighbors filed past, the younguns stared at the procession of women, one man, one girl and two toddlers in their Sunday go to meeting clothes.

  There wasn't anything new about Maudie's children watching church let out. They did it every Sunday as though it was some sort of show put on for their benefit. Though Gracie Evans didn't know the younger children by name, she recognized their faces as the neighborhood makers of mischief. She directed a glaring frown in their direction. Their faces scrunched up as they stuck pink tongues out at her.

  The Moser group crossed the bridge over the small creek and walked through the opening gap in the bush hedge. Moser Mansion's back yard contained the carriage house, garden, gazebo and flower beds. The angel statue's pan was now filled with water. Malachi took the grain out he used for bird feed in the winter.

  Light brown haired Molly and Orie Lang, dark haired with a farmer's tan, led the way to the back porch door. Molly carried Jenny Nora and Orie had Jessie Ned. When Molly entered the kitchen, she said to Agnes Barnes, the cook and housekeeper, “Something sure smells good.”

  “Thank you, Miss Molly. That would be the beef pot roast baking in the oven. Hope you find everything as tasty as it smells,” Agnes replied, stirring a pot.

  “Well, ladies, before we sit down to eat, go freshen up, and we will meet back in the dining room,” Molly said. “Agnes, is Uncle Malachi back from church yet?”

  “No, ma'am. He said he was going to Widower Mallard's house for lunch today after church,” Agnes told her. “He'll be home later this afternoon.”

  It didn't take long for everyone to use the water closet and get rid of their hats in their rooms. Preacher Whitestone's sermon was lengthy. They had worked up an appetite.

  Gracie wasn't fond of eating in the fancy dining room, but she'd gotten used to it. The way she saw it, eating one meal out of the week wasn't so bad, sitting on the spindly chairs. Since the rest of the time, they took their meals in the kitchen.

  As Gracie came downstairs, Jeffery and Moxie Armstrong, came from the entry hall to the table. “Sure hope there is room for two more at the table.” The young man pause to kiss Molly and Melinda on their cheeks. “We could smell Agnes's Sunday dinner from across the street.”

  “From the delicious odors comin' from the kitchen, me thinks, Agnes has outdone herself,” Jeffery's short structured wife, Moxie complimented.

  Molly and Orie fastened the twins in their highchairs and waited at the table for Gracie, Melinda and Madeline to gather around. As they sat down, Melinda said, “It's nice to see you two today. I've been wondering what you've done this week.”

  “Just the usual, Aunt Melinda,” Jeffery said.

  Molly asked, “Have you ladies seen Shana since we got home from church?”

  “Last I saw her, she stopped to talk to Maudie Brown's younguns on the porch,” Melinda said.

  Gracie added in her crackly voice, “I sure hope she doesn't keep messing around over there. Maudie's younguns have always been as wild as the cats and dogs in this town. They run all over town. They wind up getting in trouble by doing that.”

  “Now, Gracie, Shana knows better than to get in trouble now since she's been doing dishes for Agnes as punishment,” Melinda defended.

  “Maybe and maybe not. Look at Maudie,” Gracie said.

  Melinda looked slowly around the room. “Where is Maudie? I don't see her.”

  “I didn't mean she was right here. If you'd just let me finish, I wanted to say, she isn't able to control her kids atall. Maudie's younguns sure set a bad example for other younguns in the neighborhood.”

  “I've noticed lately Shana is spending more time away from home, and she never wants to say where she's been,” Molly worried.

  “Oh brother!” Madeline ejected. “That girl could get herself in a peck of trouble if you two don't lay the law down to her, Miss Molly.”

  Molly frowned. “I know it well. I'm afraid the child has trouble telling the difference between right and wrong after having to defend for herself in New York slums. She had to be tough to stay alive.”

  Melinda offered a defense in her soft voice, “Shana is a good girl. She needs guidance and lots of reassurance when she's done the right things. If only she had something constructive to keep her busy other than doing dishes.”

  “I agree with Miss Melinda. Earl said just about the same thing the other day when he brought Shana home,” Orie said. “We just haven't figured out what that constructive job would be yet.”

  “Golly Moses, the girl knows we eat as soon as we get home from church. She shouldn't have stopped to talk to the Brown children and lose track of time like this,” Molly vented. “We will give her a few more minutes, then we'll eat before our food gets cold. Besides, this isn't fair to Agnes. She wants to get home to her family for lunch. Shana can eat from the leftovers when she shows up and then do the dishes.”

  Orie pushed his plate back and crossed his arms on the table. “After, she gets a good talking to from me, Molly.”

  Chapter Two

  Just then the front screen door slammed shut. A girlish voice yelled, “It's home I be.”

  “Come to the dining room now. We've been waiting for you at the table,” Orie called back.

  The thirteen year old bounced into the dining room. Right behind her was a bearded man in a dirt tinged flannel shirt with the elbows out and faded jeans with tears in the knees. His scuffed high topped farmer shoes had holes in the toes. A dingy straw hat with a frayed brim canopied his shoulder length, dark brown hair.

  The man looked around furtively as everyone at the table gasped and stared. From the surprise looks given to him by Shana's family, he had the feeling he might be leaving in a hurry.

  Orie stood up. He paused long enough to pat Jessie's shoulder to quiet his whimpers. Jenny shrank back in her highchair, content to let Molly pat her hand. When Orie came around the table, he stood in front of the man. “Is there something I can do for you, sir?”

  Shana spoke up. “Papa Orie, this be me friend. He came all the way from the ould sod. Sure and tis time to eat dinner, and Timothy O'Leary is down on his luck a might. I invited him to meet me family and eat Sunday dinner with us.”

  “I see,” Orie said softly. He held out his hand to shake hands with the hobo. “Mr. O'Leary, I'm Orie Lang.”

  Timothy looked around the table at the ladies' faces again. “To be sure, if you would rather I not stay, I will not. I told Shana girl that this was a poorest of ideas if I ever heard one.”

  Shana stomped her foot and shook her head fiercely, causing her pigtails to bob back and forth. “Papa Orie, you and Mama Molly have always taught me we should help out those less fortunate than ourselves. That's what you did for meself in my time of need. Now I'm returning the favor by doin' that very same thing for someone else. Are you here to tell me I'm wrong to let this poor fellow go hungry when we have plenty to eat?”

  Orie turned to Molly for help. She shrugged as her sign of approval, leaving it up to him. He turned his attention to the man. “All right, you may stay and be welcome at our table.” He looked down at Shana reproachfully. “Next time, young lady, when you want to invite a guest, you give us some notice. You understand that?”

  Shana ducked her head remorsefully. “Sure and tis, right you are, Papa Orie. Sorry, I am for springin' me surprise on you this very day.”

  “We'd prefer you came to Sunday lunch on time,” Molly said. “To be late isn't fair to Agnes. She wants to go home to spend time with her family. It's not fair to the ladies here to wait on you when they're hungry.”

  “For certain, ladies, I'm sorry I made you wait on me. It won't be happenin' again.” Shana smiled up at Timothy O'Leary and grabbed his hand. “Come sit between Miss Melinda and me. See the red haired woman three chairs down. That is Moxie Armstrong. She is from Ireland as well.” />
  Timothy nodded at Moxie. “How do, Ma'am.”

  Everyone scooted their chairs closer, and Orie brought another chair from the corner of the dining room to the vacated spot. Before he sit down, Orie stuck his head in the kitchen door and told Agnes they were ready to be served.

  When Agnes carried in the bowl of mash potatoes, she did a double take at the guest of honor. Her mouth dropped open as she set the bowl down and gaped each time she came back.

  When the bowls came to Timothy, he took large helpings. Clearly, he hadn't eaten good home cooking for a long time. Gracie feared there wouldn't be enough in the bowls for her by the time the bowls reached her. Good thing Agnes liked to prepare a lot of food. Of course, she usually filled the bowls, thinking Miss Molly could warm up the leftovers on Sunday night. Looked like Miss Molly would have to improvise for supper this time.

  Gracie noticed Moser Mansion's eastern born, well dressed Madeline had her scent ring on with the green set. She often wore the ring, because it was fancy looking. It came in handy at that moment. Madeline kept lifting the perfumed ring to her nose to take a sniff.

  Melinda took small helpings out on her plate. Gracie guessed sitting next to the stranger was causing the poor woman to lose her appetite. Melinda picked up her napkin often and held it to her nose. She'd take a deep breath, filtered through the napkin. Gracie sure understood. The tramp's body odor was so strong she could smell him from across the table. Must be awful bad on the appetite where Melinda was right next to him. He hadn't had a bath for a long time from the look and smell of him.

  Everyone managed to make it though the meal. In fact, Gracie couldn't ever remember it being so quiet. All the grownups breathed a sign of relief when Timothy O'Leary stood up, thanked the Langs and Shana for their hospitality and walked down the entry hall. As soon as he was out the front door, Molly and Orie took Shana into the library to have a private conversation with her.

  Gracie could only guess the nature of the talking to the girl got. She figured Shana was told again she wasn't to bring surprise guests to meals without running it by her parents first.

  When the talk was over, Shana came back to the dining room. As she carried the dirty dishes to the kitchen, her face was grave.

  After Molly and Orie sat down at the table, Molly apologized to the ladies for any distress the hobo caused.

  Gracie asked gruffly, “Is Mr. O'Leary going to be back?”

  Molly shook her head as Shana entered the room. “Come here and sit by me, Shana while we explain to the ladies.” Shana sat, clasped her hands and stared at the table. Molly put her hand over Shana's. “I told Shana in no uncertain terms if she wanted Timothy to have food, Orie will be glad to take him a meal now and then where he stays. I tried to explain we couldn't be sure if the man was dangerous or not. None of us know this stranger's background, including her. Some of the hobos are wanted men, running all the time to stay ahead of the law.

  Orie added, “I mentioned a man like O'Leary doesn't stay around long. O'Leary would soon hop on a freight car and be gone so she shouldn't worry about him. The man was used to fending for himself and usually looked for a handout from a soft hearted person. Shana is that, soft heart, and I love her for it. She just has a lot to learn about people as she grows up.”

  Shana sat quietly with a sad face.

  “Anything you want to add in your favor, Dear?” Madeline, asked.

  Shana wiggled in her chair, nervous under everyone's scrutiny. She looked at Molly and received a nod that it was all right to answer Madeline.

  “It's just when I met Timothy O'Leary, he reminded me what it was like in New York City when I was on my own. It was hungry I was all the time and eating scraps out of dumpsters. I feel sorry for Timothy and for the other homeless people sleeping in the woods by the train depot.”

  Just then someone knocked on the front door. Gracie said, “I'll answer the door.”

  The visitor was Thaddeus Sawyer, Gracie's blond haired, tall farm renter. He took his hat off and twisted it in his hands. “Afternoon, Miss Gracie. Can I come in?”

  “Sure, Thad. Come to the parlor and take a load off your feet,” Gracie invited, leading the way.

  “I'm not interrupting your meal time, am I?” Thad asked.

  Gracie pointed to the settee. “No, that's over.” She sat in one of the two overstuffed chairs. Melinda and Madeline appeared. Melinda sat in the other overstuffed chair. Madeline sat near the fireplace. Both ladies nodded at Thad, and he greeted them back.

  Gracie said, “Mr. Orie is busy right now in a family conference. He should be in here soon.”

  “It ain't him I wanted to visit with. It was you, Miss Gracie,” Thad said.

  “What can I do fer you, Thad?” Gracie asked.

  “My wife, Ivy, is itching to go see her mother in Ottumwa again. I wondered if you wanted to come farm sit for me.” When Gracie started to speak, he held up his hand to stop her. “I know last time wasn't the easiest stay for you, but this time shouldn't have the problems that last time did. This stay will be better. It has been quiet in the country for quite some time now.”

  Melinda looked worried. “Gracie, you better think about this. Farm sitting was awful hard on you the last time you went out there.”

  “It might have been, but I enjoyed staying in my old home for a spell. I'd like to go again. Thanks for thinking of me, Thad,” Gracie said sincerely.

  Thad looked relieved. “Much obliged, Miss Gracie. I didn't know who else to ask.”

  “How long are you going to be gone?” Gracie asked.

  “Close to a month like last time,” he answered. “I will be glad to ask Millard Sokal to come over often to be a help to you.”

  “Much obliged, but I don't want his help,” Gracie said brusquely. “When you want me out to the farm?”

  “Tomorrow morning if you can come,” Thad said hesitantly.

  “Oh, brother! You sure believe in short notices,” Madeline huffed.

  “Well, I'm sorry about that, too, but we was sitting around talking this morning. Ivy started missing her mother. One thing led to another, and I gave in to take her and the girl to Ottumwa. We want to leave tomorrow right after you can get to the farm, Miss Gracie.”

  “It's all right, Thad,” Gracie said, frowning at Madeline. “Ain't like I have a busy social schedule like some that I might have to cancel. Besides, spring is the prettiest time of the year on the farm. I want to be there for spring. I will be to your house about mid morning.”

  Orie and Molly came to the parlor and sit down on the settee by Madeline.

  “Well, did you get anything settled with Shana that will stick with her?” Gracie asked.

  “We think so,” Molly said, looking troubled.

  “Now that you know where she spends her time, you should worry. Her keeping company with hobos and all kinds of riffraff in the timber by the depot is a foolish thing to do,” Gracie said.

  “We know, and we're worried about it, Miss Gracie,” Orie said.

  “We just aren't sure what to do to keep Shana from getting into real trouble if she sneaks off when we aren't looking. She was such a tough child, looking out for herself in New Your. Now she thinks she can handle any danger that occurs,” Molly added.

  Orie said, “Who knocked on the front door earlier?”

  Gracie said, “Thaddeus Sawyer. He wants me to farm sit again, starting tomorrow, so he can take his wife and daughter to visit Ivy's mother.”

  “Is Ivy's mother ill again?” Molly asked in concern.

  “Didn't sound like it. Ivy just wants to spend some time with her mother,” Gracie said.

  “Are you going to do it, Miss Gracie?” Molly asked.

  “Yip, I said I would.” This time I'm renting a buggy from the livery stable. That way I can get myself back and forth when I want to come to town,” Gracie said. “No sense Mr. Orie coming all the way to the farm to get me for church.”

  “You're really sure you want to do this,” Molly said. “I
've begun to worry about you already. I want you to be safe this time.”

  “Thad said it was quiet in the country now. It will be better this time. In fact, I have an idea that might help you two out. Why not let me take Shana to the farm with me? It will only be for a month. Maybe she will settle down, following me around. Give her a chance to learn about farm life, and there's no way she can get into trouble. Where could she go?” Gracie shared.

  “I'm for that,” Orie said. “That will give Mr. O'Leary time to leave town. I can stop and check on Shana and you when I go to my farm just to make sure the girl isn't giving you a hard time, Miss Gracie.”

  “Yes, I think I like that idea, Miss Gracie, if you're sure you really want to do this. Living in the country for a few weeks would be good for Shana,” Molly said, brightening up.

  “I'm sure of it, but I figure on making her do chores like I did when I was small,” Gracie warned.

  Molly frowned.

  “Now stop looking at me like I'm turning her into a prisoner doing hard labor. I wasn't going to have the girl do anything back breaking. I meant like carrying in water from the well, gather the eggs and hoe in Ivy's vegetable garden. That girl is big enough to handle all those things. Besides, I'll be working right along side her.”

  “I don't see anything wrong with those chores, Molly. Shana could use something to give her responsibility,” Orie said.

  “This is true,” Molly agreed. “Shana might find chores more fun than doing dishes for Agnes.”

  “You might explain the milk goat's habit of passing out so Shana doesn't think she died. That would really upset the girl.”

  “I'll tell her when I introduce her to the goat,” Gracie said.

  “A month is an awful long time for Shana to be away from home, Miss Gracie. You will see she bathes regularly and changes her clothes. She has a tendency to forget unless I mention it to her,” Molly worried. “Oh, and you won't let the Indians carry her off. Watch out for her, will you?”