Christopher's Journey: Sometimes it takes being lost to find yourself

Chapter 6

  The pastor and Mr. Browley left Chris sitting on his bed. He briefly studied the room. It looked old fashioned but clean. Everything was made of unfinished wood except the mattress that was comfortable enough but poked him if he rolled over just right and the small braided rug on the floor. The table next to him held a tray of eggs, bacon and coffee that Mrs. Browley had brought up to him minutes after Mr. Browley and Pastor Walling stepped out.

  The sun shining through the window made the room warm up and showered it with glorious light.

  Chris' head seemed to hold a beat as his wrapped wounds continued to throb. He closed his eyes and clenched them shut.

  "What am I supposed to do?" He said out loud, feeling more helpless than the night he hunkered down behind that city dumpster.

  "Pray." a voice softly said.

  Chris whipped open his eyes to see a lovely young girl standing in the doorway.

  "I'm sorry to intrude but my mother sent me up here to fetch your tray. You haven't touched a thing."

  Chris felt his body sink further into the bed. This striking girl was talking to him but he couldn't hear a single word. The light streaming in from the hallway beamed around her making her glow like an angel. She had the sides of her golden hair swept up and tied in the back while the rest of it flowed down over her shoulders, her face, not made up, still glowed with radiant beauty. She wore the same style clothing as her mother including an apron but with the tie string wrapped several times around her tiny waist.

  "Are you alright?" she asked in a soft, feminine voice, her blue eyes sparkling at him.

  "Y-yeah, I'm fine... I just got really tired, all of the sudden." Chris stated trying to recover from his mouth-open stare.

  "Are you not hungry?" she asked pointing to the full tray.

  "I am, I've just been lost in thought. I'll eat. Who are you?"

  "My name is Hanna, Hanna Browley. You're at my family's farm. This is my room, actually. I've been bunkin' with my sister, Priscilla..." she caught herself and paused. "I guess it's not proper to talk of such things."

  "It's fine." Chris assured her.

  Hanna smiled nervously and turned to leave. "I'll be back up a little later to fetch that tray or my Ma will. You make sure you eat all that if you can. It was nice to meet you Chris." She tossed him a half grin and strolled out of the room.

  Chris sat dumb-struck wondering what had just happened to him. He'd never seen such a beautiful creature before. His heart raced, his thoughts jumbled, his stomach twisted. What was happening to him?

  After eating all that was given to him and finishing every last drop of the coffee, Chris got up onto his feet for the first time in days. He felt useless and stupid just lying in bed all day long. He needed to figure out what his next step was going to be, he couldn't do that holed up in this tiny bedroom. Most of all, however, he wanted another glimpse of Hanna.

  After putting his tennis shoes back on, tying them up, he shuffled to the door and cracked it open. He entered into one of two small hallways that were separated by an open staircase heading downstairs. A large window above the staircase allowed the sunshine to stream in revealing the thousands of tiny dust speckles. Two doors were on the other side of the staircase and two more doors on the side he'd just come out of. He took the left turn out of the room and headed to the top of the stairs.

  Looking straight down, he noticed the front door. He listened for any movement. All he heard were a few clinks of what sounded like pans. He slowly descended the stairs making sure to stabilize his balance by grasping the hand rail.

  When he reached the bottom, looking to the left, he noticed a small living room. It consisted of only a small, old fashioned sofa and two rocking chairs surrounding a table, all situated around the grand fireplace. To the right, he saw only a dining table, the first four legged piece of furniture he’d seen on his journey so far. It was surrounded by six chairs.

  Chris heard the clanking again and took another step to the right, rounding the wall from the staircase. Beyond the dining room was a small kitchen. A sink and water pump sat on the back wall next to a door leading underneath the stairs, a counter top sat on the other side rounding the corner in a V shape to the other wall and stopped a foot or so before the stove. At the stove, he set his eyes on that plump woman he’d met before, bending over to fetch something from the oven. She carefully took two loaves of bread out of the iron stove and laid them, on their sides onto the wooden counter, covering them with cloths.

  As though she sensed his presence, she turned and shot him a concerned look.

  “Well, good morning Mr. Scholt. You really shouldn’t be out of bed.”

  “I’m fine, I didn’t know if I could lay there one more minute.” Chris said while inhaling the fragrance of the freshly baked bread.

  “I understand.” Mrs. Browley said with a sympathetic smile. “All is well, it will give me a chance to strip the bed and wash the linens.”

  “Where did everybody go?” Chris asked only wondering about the one person he couldn’t shake from his mind. “it just seems really quiet in here.”

  “Oh, I hope the hustle and bustle of the morning didn’t disturb you. I know the children can be pretty loud running up and down those stairs.”

  “I wasn’t disturbed, I was just wondering. What time is it?”

  “It’s nearly eight o’clock. The children have already headed off to school and Mr. Browley is out in the barn finishing up his morning chores before he heads out to work the fields. He was wanting to speak with you again before heading out but since you’re up... I’ll go get him.” she stated while wiping her floured hands on her apron.

  “No, that’s ok. If he wants to talk to me...” ‘about what, I couldn’t even care less!’ Chris thought in the middle of his sentence. “I can go out to him.”

  “Are you sure?” Mrs. Browley’s expression turned back to concern.

  “It’s fine. I need some air. Where’s the barn?”

  “Just go back around the stairs, through the parlor and wood porch, you’ll see it from there. Mr. Browley works in the barn from back to front, so you should see him as soon as you enter. Would you like me to show you the way?”

  “No, I’ll find it.”

  Chris turned and made his way through the house. He stepped out of the door from the parlor to enter an enclosed porch that held the wood. The winter had nearly depleted the stock as the piles looked in need of refilling.

  Through the outside door, he rested his eyes upon a large yard. An impressive garden took up most of it and appeared to be freshly manicured with rows plowed into it. Nothing seemed to be sprouting yet, but it was still early May. A clothes line spread across the other side of the yard, strung between three trees. The sheets and towels swayed in the gentle, warm breeze. Opposite of the barn was the outhouse, hopefully in better shape of the one from the dugout home.

  Chris took the three steps down off the porch and headed toward the barn. The large, front door was already open. Before even getting twenty feet from the door, the smell slapped Chris right in the face. It made him stop, dead in his tracks.

  ‘Nothing could be worse than that outhouse.’ Chris thought as he began walking again, but taking shallower breaths.

  Trying to ignore the overwhelming stench of the barn, his eyes scoured the building for Mr. Browley. This barn was far larger than the one he'd seen at Mr. Kinsley's. When first entering, the six cows were the first to greet you, three on each side. They stood in their own small pens. Their feed troughs were facing the back wall so that their rears were facing out.

  As he took one more step forward, he noticed Mr. Browley sitting on a small stool next to the third cow, milking her.

  Chris took a couple more steps forward, shuffling his feet on purpose to announce his presence.

  “Well, Chris Scholt. You’ve decided to grace us with your presence. Nice to see you up and about. What
can I do for you?”

  “Your wife said you wanted to speak with me.” Chris said instantly raising his guard.

  “That I did.” Mr. Browley said, raising to his feet. “how are you feeling?”

  “Fine...” Chris slowly answered wondering if that was all he wanted.

  “I was hesitant to make this decision without consulting you, but there is a doctor from Shorlin we use since we don’t have our own doc. I was wondering if you felt the need to have him come down.”

  “NO! I mean, I’m fine.”

  “Good, that brings me to the next order of business. Since you seem to be suffering from a bout of Amnesia, you don’t have any plans to be wondering off, do ya?”

  Chris raised his brow. “Why?” he snapped.

  “Well, the attitude you seem to have towards me doesn’t make me want to help you any less. The offer I presented to you days ago is still in good standing. I would like for you to come help us on our farm. Once you’re feeling better, the family and I can go out and fix up that sod house for you to stay in. You can come out in the morning, have your meals with us and head back home in the evening. I’d be doing you a favor, son.. err... Chris, but really, you’d be helping me out. I could use an extra set of hands around here. My son, Mason is 12 years old and helps me considerably but the work it too big for two and he’s in school most of the day. I’d be obliged if you’d at least consider.”

  What choice did he have? He had no where to go, no way to live, no food or water to survive. Most importantly, in his mind, this would be an excellent excuse to see Hanna every day. That was the decision maker for him.

  “I will accept your offer. On one condition...”

  Mr. Browley’s eyebrows raised.

  “... that this be temporary. As soon as I figure out what’s going on and how I can get home, I’m out of here!”

  Mr. Browley thought a moment. “Good enough.” he stated extending an arm.

  Reluctantly, Chris reached out and shook his outreached hand.

  “When do you think you’ll be feeling up to starting?”

  “What else have I got to do?” Chris answered with a sneer in his voice.

  “I’ll start you with some easy tasks then, until you’re feeling up to it. Let me show you around first. These are our cows, we'd love to have a barn full of them but six are plenty to keep our family lavished with milk, cream and butter. Maybe some day we can get a bull and start breeding them."

  Chris wanted to cover his face with his shirt but thought it to be un-manly. 'It's just a smell, it won't kill you.' Chris thought while taking shallower breaths.

  "Over here we have our two horses, the Sam's."

  "The Sam's?" Chris repeated.

  "Yep, we allowed Mason and Priscilla to name the pair. Mason wanted Sam for the gelding and Priscilla insisted on Samantha for the mare, so we decided to call them the Sam's. They make a great team, these two. Hoping they'll give us a colt before Samantha gets too old. These two work hard for this farm, not only do they pull the wagon but they also break their backs out on the field in front of the plow and harrow." Mr. Browley pointed at two strange contraptions near the back door of the barn. One was a large sharp object with two handles coming up from it and the other was triangle shaped with spikes coming out of the bottom.

  "They've been good to us but their getting up there in years, I'd like to retire them to just the wagon and get some oxen for the field work. Over here, we have our two goats who just had a baby last month and our chicken coop out back. They've blessed us with eggs that the Moyors buy at their mercantile. Up above, here, is the loft where we'll be putting the hay later this summer, if you're still with us come then." Mr. Browley stated, almost mockingly as he turned to walk back to the front of the barn.

  "You ever milked a cow before?”

  “Uh, no... I’ve always bought my milk, like normal people.”

  “Well, why buy it when you have a barn full of cows, huh? I have two left that need milking. You grab that stool and head this way.”

  ‘This stinks!’ Chris thought as he grabbed the small, three legged stool and headed to the second cow.

  “Have a seat.” Mr. Browley stated, pointing to the stool he’d just arranged on the floor beside the thick beast. “You want to grab the teat and squeeze while gently pulling down, like this.”

  Chris hesitantly grabbed two of the teats as Mr. Browley did and tried to mirror his actions. Nothing came out. He tried again. Nothing. Chris let out a frustrated grunt as the cow’s tail whipped him in the face.

  “Ugh!”

  “It’s alright, it’s not as easy as some think. You’ll get it, just remember your patience. The trick is the squeezing as you pull down. It has to be precise for it to work.”

  Chris tried again as a small drop came out of each teat. Even though it was frustrating to get so little out, a feeling of triumph came over Chris as an involuntary smile spread across his face.

  “There ya go, you’re gettin’ it!” Mr. Browley stated with pride.

  The more Chris worked at it the more came out. After twenty grueling, hand cramping minutes, he finished up the first cow he’d ever milked.

  “Now be sure to strip the teat when you’re through, we need to make sure we get every last drip out so the cows don’t come down with Mastitis.” Mr. Browley said, showing him what he meant.

  “Masti... what?” Chris asked, confused.

  “Mastitis. It’s a disease the dairy cows can get from bacteria. Not a pretty sight and devastating to the milk and the cows. I’ve lost several to it so we’re extra careful to prevent it. That’s why stripping the teat is so important. Let’s finish this last cow and I can show you the fields.”

  It took Chris about the same amount of time to finish the last cow but he seemed to be catching onto the rhythm of the process. Left, right, left, right, swoosh, swoosh.

  “You’re a natural. You sure you’ve never farmed before?”

  Chris didn’t know how to take the compliment. He was a stranger to personal praise so he just looked up at Mr. Browley and shrugged his shoulders. Instead of taking in the kind words, he racked his brain for a motive Mr. Browley could possibly have for being so nice to him. This was all just too foreign to him.

  After several back breaking hours out in the fields, Chris heard the chime of a bell.

  “Dinner time.” Mr. Browley announced as he strolled by Chris.

  “I thought you were going to take it easy on me today.” Chris snobbishly stated, wiping his dripping, dirt covered forehead. His clean clothes now soiled with earth and sweat.

  “I am.” Mr. Browley said over his shoulder with a crooked smile.

  Chris trudged his way up to the house and followed Mr. Browley up to the wash basin off of the back porch mimicking his actions. After they were both washed up, they entered the back porch, around the parlor and to the table. Chris fell into his chair.

  “Well now, look at you. Mr. Browley put you right to work, huh?” Mrs. Browley said as she put a plate in front of Chris.

  Chris only grunted as he breathed in the aroma of the stew and corn muffins that had been set in front of him. Without another thought, he picked up his fork and dug in.

  “Aren’t we forgetting the blessing?”

  Chris looked up to see them both staring at him with wide eyes. He slowly put down his fork and folded his hands. As they both folded their hands, closed their eyes and bowed their heads, Chris continued to watch them not even bothering to take in the words of Mr. Browley’s prayer.

  “In Jesus’ holy name, we pray... A-men.” Mr. Browley finished.

  Chris waited until one of them began eating before picking up his fork again. He devoured his food as if it was his last meal, instantly regretting how fast he ate as his body felt heavy and more tired than it had since his arrival.

  “Are you sure you’re not working him too hard?” Mrs. Browley stated to her husb
and. “I think he should take a small rest before sending him back out, he is still injured, you know.”

  “Do you need a rest, Chris?” Mr. Browley said, staring him down.

  ‘Is this a test?’ Chris thought. He did want to lay down but was also afraid of being shown up by a man almost twice his age. ‘I’m stronger than that.’ Chris thought stubbornly.

  “I’m fine.”

  “There you have it, missus, he’s a trooper.” Mr. Browley bragged to his wife.

  In a haze, Chris rose from his seat and set out behind Mr. Browley.

  ‘This will surely be the death of me.’ he thought as they resumed their duties out in the field.

  When the supper bell rang several hours later, the only thing that gave Chris any gumption to walk up to the house was knowing he was going to see Hanna. He knew everybody was back from school when Mason joined them in the fields hours earlier. The three of them washed up in the basin and headed into the house.

  As they all took their places at the table, Mr. and Mrs. Browley at each end, Chris and Mason on the left side and Hanna and Priscilla on the right, Chris couldn't help but watch Hanna. She moved with amazing grace and swiftness. He could tell she knew her duties and had done them for a while. All three of the women, well two women and one girl, Priscilla was only nine years old, laid the spread on the table. Roasted ham, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob and biscuits. Chris had never seen a table so full of food. This wasn't dinner to him, this was a Thanksgiving feast.

  "How was your first day on the job, Chris?" Mrs. Browley asked as she took her seat.

  "Fine." was all he could manage to say.

  "Would you like to say the blessing?"

  Chris' eyes widened. The only prayers he knew how to say were that of desperation or anger. He'd never said a prayer to bless food, people or their day.

  "I.. no... I don't know how... " he stammered.

  They all stared at him for just a moment but long enough to make Chris feel the most uncomfortable he could remember ever feeling, and that included being in prison. What could they possibly be thinking of him right now.

  "In good time." Mrs. Browley stated in a kind voice with a quick wink. "Hanna, would you care to say the supper blessing?"

  "Yes, Ma." she simply said. Everyone clasped their hands together and bowed their heads. This time, Chris did the same and hung onto her every word. He was shocked when she had mentioned him in the prayer, thanking God for sending him to their home to help with the farm and praised Him for healing nicely from his incident.

  He looked up at her as she said these things and was touched. It made him want to know more about her. Before anyone could notice him watching her, he quickly closed his eyes and bowed his head until she delivered the 'A-men.'

  "You look tired, Chris. George, I think you've worked him too hard today. Maybe we can give him some simpler tasks tomorrow until he is feeling a little more rested from his trials."

  Mr. Browley looked up at Chris with the same expression he'd given him during lunch. Another test? Now, it would be more than being shown up in front of him but the entire family, and Hanna.

  "It's ok." Chris said in his most burly, man voice.

  "Well, I was thinking..." Mrs. Browley continued. "that you could help Hanna with the garden tomorrow while Priscilla and I work on the items we need to fix up the sod house. George, you and Mason can continue working on the fields. Tomorrow being Saturday, we'll have a team of hands on each project."

  "Well, I don't know..." Mr. Browley started.

  'Working, alone with Hanna? What could be better than that. I could really show her what I'm made of.' Chris thought trying to hide his smirk.

  "If nobody minds, I would prefer that." Chris quickly spoke up.

  "It's settled then." Mrs. Browley announced giving her husband a sideways glance.

  "Very well." Mr. Browley agreed. "I suppose you'd be pretty valuable around here if you learned every angle of this farm and that garden is just as important as our cows and fields. I'll be getting you and Mason up in the morning to help me milk, though, agreed?"

  "Yes, sir." Mason answered as if he was about to salute his father.

  Chris simply nodded then turned to Hanna with a smile. To his surprise, she was smiling back at him.

  "Gardening is not as easy as it sounds." she said.

  "I think I can handle it." Chris replied.