A Place to Call Their Own

Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2

As Frank and Gregory marched closer to the house, Gregory grasped the reality of the situation. He couldn’t remember the house glowing so white this far down the road. The shutters hung straight as intended. Even when his pa was alive and the wind blew them cockeyed, the man only fixed them haphazardly.

“There’s Ma by the clothesline,” Gregory said when he saw her.

“She looks stiff.”

“Remember those serious daguerreotypes we used to have to pose for and how serious we looked when they were done?”

“Yes.”

“She always looks like that. That dark dress doesn’t help.”

When she bent down to pick up the bushel basket of laundry and faced their direction, Gregory yelled out to her. She stood up straight and looked in their general direction. She gave him a wave with some vigor and hurried into the house. Gregory hadn’t seen her that excited since the last time her parents visited when he was very young.

Time slowed and their legs grew weak with the anticipation of being done traveling for the day. Gregory’s mother stepped out the back door as they reached the end of the lane.

“I had a feeling you would be here today,” she greeted them dryly. “I don’t usually wash sheets except on wash day, but today, I thought I should. I’m glad you made it home safe and sound. Is this the friend you told me about in your letters?”

“Yes, ma’am. This is Frank Greerson.” Gregory introduced Frank with the pride that another man might introduce his future wife.

Mrs. Young smiled at Gregory weakly, scrutinizing his delight.

Frank tipped his hat as he spoke. “Glad to meet you, Mrs. Young. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Well, that can’t be good,” she replied with a smile.

Gregory couldn’t believe he’d witnessed his mother smile and tease—with a stranger, no less.

“Oh, it was all good, ma’am,” Frank quickly spoke up and blushed.

Gregory’s face warmed remembering some of the stories he had shared about growing up. They were not all good.

“Oh, I’m just messing with you, son. I’m sure you’ve heard an earful, but that’s fine…” She trailed off as she ushered them inside. “I’ll have the beds made back up in a minute, so don’t you worry about that. Gregory, take Frank upstairs and put your things away. You sleep in your old room and have him sleep in the other bedroom. Go ahead and get settled and wash up. By that time, dinner will be ready.”

Gregory bounded up to his childhood room on the well-worn steps. He remembered how bright the white washed walls were when he was younger and how they grew dingy the older he got. Frank followed close behind.

“Did you notice if the kitchen was painted?” Gregory asked once they reached the top of the stairs.

Frank laughed. “How am I supposed to know? I’ve never been here.”

“I’ll have to look when we go back downstairs,” Gregory muttered to himself. “This is my old room, where she wants me to sleep. That’s the other room.” Gregory motioned toward it, and Frank followed as they looked into his bedroom from the door. “It doesn’t look a thing like it did when I was growing up. That desk is new, and this shelf with my stuff is new. Looks like she’s been using this as an office. And these quilts are new. I had one quilt that Ma kept patching up, and I had one carpet that became the dog’s bed when I was a teenager. Stay near the peak of the roof so you don’t bump your head.”

“Remember, we promised each other that when we build the second story, we’ll build a full story so no one bumps their head,” Frank said with a smile. “This is completely different than what my ma has done with my room. The only thing she added was the water pitcher bowl. Otherwise, my room looks like it did when I left for the Army four years ago.”

“Maybe she’s been trying to move on,” Gregory muttered as he looked over things in the other bedroom. “This chair was always reserved for company when I was growing up. This is her Bible, her knitting, and it looks like some mending. She must be spending some time up here.”

“They smell clean, like they’ve been kept up. You can always tell rooms that have been left and then cleaned. They smell musty.”

Frank and Gregory did their best to sort their belongings so it looked like the appropriate belongings were in the appropriate room. Since they had left the Army, their things became less his or his, but more theirs together. They would miss sleeping together that night; at least at the Greerson’s, they had slept in the same room. It was only one night, and their plan was to be off again the next day.

After they were settled, Gregory took Frank back downstairs and out to the pump by the back door to clean up. It had only been a couple of days since they had left Frank’s parents, but they were filthy with two days’ worth of dust and dirt from the trip. The two men went outside, stripped off their shirts, and started rinsing down in the cool well water.

“The barn has been painted, and that pigsty fixed,” Gregory explained as he wet down his hairy torso. The late afternoon sun brought out the red shades in the hair that covered his chest and stomach.

“Who do you think is helping her?” Frank asked as he cleaned his own smooth torso.

“You’ve got something on your back, Frankie.”

Frank turned around, and Gregory manhandled him into position to help him wash. Gregory’s mother stared at them out the kitchen window. When her eyes met Gregory’s, she retreated back into the darkness.

“Hello, Harley,” Gregory said as he wiped his hand dry and extended it to the older man who had approached the house.

“Nice to see you, Young.” Harley shook Gregory’s hand. “Your ma said you’d be home sometime today.”

“Yeah, we left Audubon two days ago. This is a comrade of mine, Greerson. Frank Greerson.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m William Harley” he said as he shook Frank’s hand. “Well, I need to check in with the boss and get home before dark. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

Harley went inside while Frank and Gregory finished washing, drying, and dressing for dinner.

As Gregory opened the door, they heard his mother yell, “And I expect you at breakfast in the morning.”

Harley tipped his hat to the men as they jockeyed through the back door—Frank and Gregory in, and Harley out.

“We’ll be eating at the dining room table,” Mrs. Young instructed as they came in. “Gregory, sit in your father’s spot. I’ll sit where I always do.”

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the kitchen as his mother removed it from the oven. Mrs. Young handed the men the smoked pork and potatoes to put on the table. As they walked into the dining room, Gregory motioned for Frank to sit at his left.

As they started to eat, Gregory said, “Harley’s been helping you out quite a bit. The upstairs looks great, and I see the old pigsty’s been fixed and is full of hogs.”

“His wife died about six months before your pa, right about the time he got sick and couldn’t do the work anymore. I hired him to help out, and he’s been here ever since. This will be our third season of crops.”

Frank shot Gregory a surprised glance, and Gregory pressed the issue. “Your third season together?”

Mrs. Young put down her fork, turning to glance at him. “Yes, our third season together, as employee and employer.” Gregory could tell Mrs. Young didn’t discuss her feelings for William Harley with William Harley himself, let alone her grown son.

Gregory managed to hold in his laughter and shot Frank an understanding grin.

Frank hesitated to break the silence, but did anyway. “Gregory tells me there’s been a lot of repair work since he’s been gone. The place looks nice.” Frank took a bite of food.

“Well, thank you, Mr. Greerson. Frank. I started the upstairs when Gregory left. I cleaned up the place and made that my little refuge. I went up there to get my mind off worrying. Gregory’s father never went up there. He only knew I had painted because I asked him to get the paint, and he complained about the fumes when I did it. He never offered to help…” Her voice trailed off, and then she continued, directing the conversation at Gregory. “When your pa got sick, Harley helped get the crop in. During that first winter, he started doing what he could when the weather allowed. As you can see, eventually we were able to spruce up the house inside and out and get the barn back in better working order.”

“The place looks nice, Ma. I see you’ve been busy with your own projects. The matching quilts upstairs look nice.” Gregory took another bite. The sound of his fork scraping the plate was as strained as the conversation.

“If a woman’s hands are busy, it stops her mind from wandering,” Mrs. Young replied.

“What happened to Harley’s wife?” Gregory asked to change the subject.

“She got sick and passed away. Harley used to tell me that she killed herself with worry—I guess because I told him how much I worried about you. He finally told me that she died of the bowel disease.”

“She was one of the meanest ladies in town,” Gregory explained to Frank. “And not only was she mean to all the little kids who ran in front of her house to and from school, she was mean to Harley.”

“And what we saw was barely a scratch on the surface. Don’t you say anything to him, but that woman was downright nasty to him behind closed doors. I’ve never seen a man so defeated in all my life.”

“After dinner, I thought I’d show Frank the fields and pasture.”

“That will be fine. I’ll do up the dishes. After supper, I’ve been sitting out on the front porch in the evenings with…”

Gregory dared not go there again, but pressed the issue anyway. “You cook for Harley?”

Frank grinned at him.

Mrs. Young suppressed her irritation with his questions a bit better this time. “Our agreement is that I feed him at least twice a day. I always make him breakfast, and depending on his schedule, I make either a midday meal or dinner. So yes, if he stays for dinner, we relax on the front porch until he heads back to town.”

“Didn’t he have a farm of his own?” Gregory asked, not realizing before how Harley could have been working two farms.

“Yes, and right before his wife got sick, he lost the farm. Due to her demands for a highfalutin lifestyle, he wasn’t able to make the mortgage payments. Your pa may have been a hard man to get along with, and things were tough some years, but he never mortgaged anything and we always got by just fine.”

“That’s too bad,” was all Gregory could answer.

“He lives at Millie Baldwin’s. After her husband died, she’s been taking in boarders to make ends meet. If he doesn’t eat here, he can eat there in the evening or at the restaurant.” She changed the subject abruptly. “Listen, I know you’ve told me in your letters you’ve made up your mind about heading west, and I don’t want to stop you. Your father left a small life insurance policy that I didn’t know about, and I’d like to give it to you in exchange for your half of the deed to the farm.”

“Pa left you an insurance policy?” Gregory asked.

“He did. I knew nothing about it. Come to find out your grandpa gave it to him as a wedding gift and he never told me. I found it going through his things. As he was getting sick, I did start worrying about what I would have to do if he did pass. I figured I’d have to sell this place, split the money with you, and hope my share of the proceeds would earn a living. Then Harley came out to the farm and started helping out because he knew your pa wasn’t doing well. This is our second crop we’ve done on our own, and it should be twice as good as your pa’s last crop we harvested.” She paused, and then she pressed the issue this time. “I would like you to think about delaying your trip until the spring.”

Gregory heeded Frank’s “don’t back down” look and answered his mother.

“Ma, we’ve made up our minds. I’m twenty-two years old. You can’t keep me here,” Gregory said before scooping a big bite of food into his mouth.

“I’m not asking you to stay here for good, just over the winter.”

“What would we do?”

“Gregory Anderson Young, you know there’s always been more than enough work to do around this place, no matter what time of year it is. I’m sure you’ll both be able to keep busy. I mean, it’s already September. I’m sure you’ll have enough time to get there, and since you’ll be a bit more south, you’ll probably be able to get a shelter built before the snow comes. But why not save your money and stay here? Help with the rest of the harvest, and then you can head out in the early spring.”

“My family asked us to consider the same thing, ma’am, but we’ve been wanting to do this ever since we found out about the free land in the west,” Frank answered her first.

“I understand that, boys—I mean, men. I just want you to make sure you’ve thought this through. I have no doubt Gregory can handle the winter, and after hearing about your background, Frank, I’m sure the two of you can survive. But why not save your money and head out in the late spring? If you leave early enough, you’ll have your pick of the claims.”

The sound of silverware clanking on the dishes filled the room as the three of them finished their meals in silence.

“Since you’ll be doing a bunch of dishes on your own soon,” Mrs. Young spoke up, “why don’t you show Frank the farm while I clean up? Then, I’ve made that cake you like so much for dessert when you get back.”

“The one with carrots?” Gregory asked.

“Yes, the one with carrots. The carrots are fresher this time of year, so it’s even better.”

Frank and Gregory rose and helped clear off the table. Frank made a mental note that if they did stay for the winter, then they would be helping with the cooking, cleaning, and other household chores. They were heading west and would need to keep a clean house. There was no reason they couldn’t start good habits here over the winter.

Gregory led Frank out the back door. The lane led them toward the barn, not far from the house.

“When I was young, I remember everything was bright, and shiny, and new,” Gregory explained.

“It looks like your ma and Harley have gotten things back into shape.”

“Look at that,” Gregory said as they approached the cattle lot. “One, two, three cows. That other calf doesn’t look more than a week old.”

“He must be rotating the cows to keep a steady supply of milk.”

The fields and pastures rolled gently beyond the barnyard and into the countryside. The cows and horses were in for the night, so the fields were empty except for the birds and bugs that flew through the air. Crickets and cicadas serenaded the two men as they walked around the grounds in the twilight. As the sun disappeared and the air cooled, it felt like autumn on the farm that Frank remembered.

“He’s rotating the crops,” Gregory pointed out. “This almost isn’t the place I grew up on.”

They walked past bales of straw standing guard in the wheat field, the wheat long gone since July. Corn stalks hung heavy with drying ears just waiting to be harvested. The alfalfa fields looked good, too. There would be plenty of harvest work to keep everyone busy.

On the way back to the house, Gregory showed Frank another pasture.

“And this is the pond. This is where I would come just to be by myself. I would fish and swim, and sometimes just lounge. The water mesmerizes me. It was at the edge of this fishpond I made the decision to join the Army.”

“It’s beautiful. I can see why you like it here.”

“This is my quiet place away from the world. Whenever Ma or Pa went looking for me, they always came here. You’d think that after they learned about my secret spot, I would have found another place. But not me. I always came here.”

The serenade of frogs and insects filled the evening air. Fireflies twinkled around the edge of the water while Frank and Gregory stood in the darkness.

It was Gregory who breached the silence this time. “So what do you think about staying here for the winter?”

Frank looked at him uneasily. “We have to go now. I just got into an argument with my pa two days ago over this situation.”

The night creatures hummed through the uncomfortable silence. The humidity added to the uneasiness of the conversation.

“Gregory, there is nothing for either one of us here in Iowa. We’ve talked about this since we got together.”

“I know, but it is late in the year. Ever since the innkeeper in Des Moines, people have pointed out how late in the year it is.”

“We should have taken a train home and gotten started earlier.”

“So we could have gotten a crop of turnips in?”

“s**t, Greg. I feel like such a humbug.”

“Bully for you for standing up to him, Frankie. Even if you told him you were spending the winter with me and my ma, he probably still would have tried to get you to stay there.”

“It sounds like our decision is made up, then. If we leave now, we’ll have to take all our supplies to get us through to spring. We don’t know what kind of provisions we’ll be able to buy once we get out there. The extra stores would slow us down even more.”

“I know we’ve wanted to escape everything—the Army, our families—and live our life together, but I think everyone has a point. It’s nearly October. By the time we made it where we’re headed, it’s going to be November. Building a house is hard enough, let alone doing it in the cold and snow. I’ll tell her tomorrow sometime.”

Frank grinned at the remark. “I’ll write to my family and let them know we’re here. They’d be pretty upset if they found out we were two days apart and they didn’t know.”

“Before we came home from the Army, I thought maybe we could get everyone together before we go.”

“That doesn’t seem like such a good idea now, does it? You think your ma knows about us?”

“Naw, she was pretty sheltered most of her life. I doubt the thought even crosses her mind.”

“I don’t know about that. She might be smarter than you think. Look at this place…She talks about it like she knows exactly what’s going on, what’s been planted, and how the stock is doing. I don’t know anything about that Harley guy, but why would he just decide to do the repair work and paint everything? If you ask me, she’s the one that’s running the place, and he truly is a hired hand.”

“At the same time, there’s something more to them than just widowed farmer and hired hand.”

“I agree, just like there’s more to us.”

Gregory grabbed Frank and gave him a big bear hug. “I can’t believe we’re actually here together in my favorite spot. I love you, Frankie.”

Frank held his embrace, lost in the moment as well. He relaxed more here than in his own house. “I love you, too. You think we’ll be all right here over the winter? I don’t want to cause any trouble for your ma.”

“We’ll be fine. Ma and Pa were always loners. They didn’t have many friends when I was growing up. We rarely went to town on Saturday nights or participated in any of the town events. Pa hated the crowds, and Ma was never very social. We’ll be fine if we stick here on the farm.”

“What about the sleeping arrangements? I don’t want to go on sleeping without you for another six months. The time at my family’s house was torture.”

“I know. I’m not thrilled about not being able to sleep with you either.”

“It’ll have to work for now. It’s just that the dreams are worse when we’re not together.”

“I know. I know. Maybe we can get a couple of smaller beds and put them in one of the rooms, so at least I’ll be in the same one.”

“That might work out a bit better.”

As Frank and Gregory walked back to the house, they could feel the early autumn air become cooler. It was definitely different than the beginning of their trip, when cool air didn’t arrive until sometime in the middle of the night. When they returned to the house, Mrs. Young served up her carrot cake and they sat on the front porch. Gregory complimented his mother on the work on the farm. Just as Frank pointed out earlier in the evening, she talked about the farm as if she worked on the place herself. It was evident that she was at least the brains behind the transformation. After they finished their cake, Frank and Gregory went on to bed. Mrs. Young said she would stay up and rock in her rocker in the cool autumn night.