Page 4 of Hope’s Enduring Echo
Jennie
“But, Mama, I’ve never done the shopping all by myself.” Jennie gripped the paper torn from Mama’s notepad and stared at the list of items written in her mother’s neat script. Her mind reeled. “How will I carry it all?”
Mama chuckled softly. “Now, you know Uncle Prime will help you load everything on the train. Mr. Rawling will stop at our curve, as he always does when we’ve been to town, and you can ask Mr. Jenkins to help you carry the crates from the car. I’ll make sure the hand wagon is waiting for you by the bridge.”
After years of monthly rides back and forth from Canon City, Jennie knew the train’s engineer and conductor nearly as well as she knew her aunt and uncle, but she’d never asked either man for a favor. Mr. Jenkins, who rode in the caboose, always offered to help Mama because he was a gentleman and she was a lady. Did Jennie’s tumultuous age classify her as a lady?
“But don’t you want to go?” Jennie beseeched her mother with her eyes. She looked forward to their monthly outing. Going to town was fun, but best—she cringed even as she considered it—was a break from Daddy’s woebegone attitude. Surely, Mama needed relief from his constant glumness, too. “Aunt Delia will be so sad if she doesn’t get to see you. And what about church tomorrow? Maybe I shouldn’t spend the night with Aunt Delia and Uncle Prime. I’ll come home with our supplies right away.”
“No, no.” Mama escorted Jennie to the front door. “Stay the night the way we’ve always done. Go to church with your aunt and uncle. They’ll be disappointed if you don’t. I’d rather you not make the trek from the rails to our cabin in the evening. Midday is better. Now go.” Mama gave her a playful nudge, winking. “Have fun, but behave yourself even though I’m not with you.”
Jennie’d been taught Someone was always with her. Always watching. The knowledge had curtailed yielding to many temptations over the years. But since God had stopped answering her prayers, she pondered whether He was paying attention to her at all. If not, did it matter how she behaved? Then she sighed. She wouldn’t deliberately get up to mischief, whether God was watching or not. She didn’t want to hurt Mama. Mama’d suffered enough.
She gave her mother a quick hug and then trotted down the rise to the footbridge. Daddy had built it the spring her family moved to the cabin so she and Mama could easily access the train tracks. She crossed the bridge, watching her feet. Some of the warped, weathered planks were four or five inches apart. A misstep could cause a fall. She enjoyed a dip in the river on hot days, but she preferred to get wet on her own terms, not because she lost her footing.
On the opposite side of the rapidly moving river, she stepped over the lines of track and leaned against the sheer rock wall stretching almost straight-up. She kept her gaze locked on the bend for the coming locomotive, but she felt the vibrations caused by the mighty engine even before she saw it. When the train entered the straightaway, she raised her hands over her head and waved. At once, brakes squealed, and the dust-covered engine puffed to a stop only a few yards from her waiting spot.
Sending a grateful smile to the engineer, Mr. Rawling, who tipped his cap as she passed, she eased along the wall to the landing on the first passenger car and climbed aboard. She settled on an empty bench at the rear of the car, and slowly the train chugged into motion again. She stared out the window at the river below, her heart heavy. She missed Mama’s company. Her chin began to quiver. She set her teeth together and stopped the trembling.
“Well, hello there, Miss Jennie.”
Jennie jerked her attention to the aisle. Mr. Jenkins, his cap set at a jaunty angle over his lank brown hair, smiled down at her. “Hello, sir. It’s good to see you.” She was especially grateful for the distraction from her lonely thoughts.
“Right back atcha.” He glanced up and down the aisle, his brow furrowing. “Didn’t your mama come with you? She ain’t ailin’, is she?”
“No, sir.” Jennie held up the list of supplies Mama had given her. “She said I could do the shopping on my own this month.” But why? Not once since they’d moved out to the cabin had Mama sent her to town alone. Even after Daddy got hurt, Mama went in for the monthly shopping and to attend worship service with Uncle Prime and Aunt Delia. Why hadn’t she come this time?
The man gave her an awkward pat on her shoulder. “Well, now, I’d say that means you’re growin’ up. If you need help with your crates an’ such, you be sure an’ give me a holler. Be glad to lend a hand.”
Maybe she was growing up if the conductor made such a gentlemanly offer to her. She sat up a little straighter. “Thank you, sir.”
“No problem at all. Enjoy your day, now.” He ambled up the aisle, his gait swaying with the car’s rocking on the track.
Her brief exchange with the conductor lifted her spirits more than she could understand. When the train heaved to a stop at the Canon City station, she hopped down from the little platform, unburdened in every sense of the word. She wove her way between waiting passengers and their stacks of luggage the way a field mouse skittered between grass-blades. She wouldn’t be able to move so freely after she finished shopping.
Going to town was much simpler than coming back. She didn’t even carry an overnight bag since she kept church clothes and toiletries in the closet of her aunt and uncle’s guest bedroom. Why would she need all that frippery at the cabin? Even though Mama wore a work dress every day, she approved trousers and button-up shirts for Jennie out there. But Mama would be appalled if Jennie showed up in downtown Canon City in Daddy’s hand-me-down clothes.
Taking alleys and side streets, she hurried to Uncle Prime and Aunt Delia’s Victorian in one of the city’s nicer districts. Her aunt and uncle were at work, but Aunt Delia always left a key under a flowerpot on the back stoop. Jennie retrieved it, unlocked the back door, then slid the key under the pot again. The house was quiet and shadowy with its occupants gone and the electric lights off. She’d never been there all by herself, and it seemed strangely spooky. A shiver climbed her spine as she made her way through the silent hallway to the staircase leading to the upstairs bedrooms.
She pushed the light button at the base of the stairs, then darted up, taking two risers at a time under the glow of the wall sconces. Upstairs, she passed Uncle Prime and Aunt Delia’s bedroom and entered the room she and Mama shared when they visited town. As quickly as possible, she changed from her britches, shirt, and boots into a pale-rose linen blouse, a straight brown skirt, stockings, and the pair of pointy-toed lace-up shoes Aunt Delia had given her for her most recent birthday. The black kidskin boots were grown-up, very ladylike shoes, and Jennie hated the way they pinched her feet, but she wore them because she loved Aunt Delia.
The tall oval mirror attached to the dressing table gave her a full view of her reflection from the opposite side of the room. She skimmed her hands down her hips, satisfied with the fit of the blouse and skirt, but oh, her hair! She unwove her ratty braid, snatched up the brush lying on a ceramic tray on the vanity marble top, and brushed her tresses until they crackled. Then she gathered the wavy strands into a tail and secured it with a piece of ribbon from a small drawer in the vanity. Satisfied her appearance wouldn’t shame Mama, she selected a dime, two nickels, and five pennies—the standard twenty-five-cents spending money Mama allowed on weekend visits—from a dish on the tray. She dropped the coins and the list Mama had given her into a velvet drawstring pouch and hooked it on her wrist.
One more glance in the mirror confirmed she was presentable for a visit to town. She descended the stairs, this time with her hand on the polished railing and at a sedate pace. She exited the house via the back door, locked it behind her, and followed the sidewalk around to the front. Now that she was dressed appropriately, she didn’t need to sneak through alleys. The sun—so welcome after the valley’s shade—beamed down bright and cheerful, and a soft breeze carried the scent of Aunt Delia’s abundance of sweet william blossoming in the beds at the base of the porch. A sudden shaft of delight filled Jennie. She’d walked the pipeline by herself countless times, but not once had she ventured into Canon City’s downtown all alone. A sense of freedom and adventure accompanied the click-click of her heels on the concrete sidewalk.
Although she still wondered why Mama had chosen to stay home today, she decided to enjoy herself. In fact, before she filled the shopping list, why not treat herself to a soda at the drugstore? Mama wouldn’t mind. The two of them usually ended their shopping excursion by sharing a tall glass of fizzy, sweet soda pop. She could drink the whole thing today. Anticipating the treat, she was tempted to hurry. But the pinching shoes dictated a more relaxed pace. Why hurry, anyway? She didn’t have to answer to anyone but herself.
Smiling, she swung the little pouch and clicked steadily toward town.
Etta
Etta had fully intended to go into town with Jennie that morning, as they’d done the first Saturday of every month since moving out to this cabin above the center point of the pipeline. But the young college student’s visit yesterday evening squashed her intentions. Watching Jennie’s delight in hosting a visitor close to her age awakened Etta to all her daughter was missing. After lying awake and praying well past her bedtime, she decided that she and Claude needed to have a serious talk. About the pipeline and Claude’s continued reluctance to use his leg, but mostly about Jennie. About the future Jennie was being denied.
Could she have talked with him during a time when Jennie was walking the pipeline? Of course. She and Claude were alone at the cabin for hours each day. But she sensed the conversation would anger and frustrate him. This new Claude, the one who sat in a chair all day instead of going off to work, sometimes harbored resentment. Multiple times since his accident, he’d broken their wedding-day promise to never go to bed angry. At least if he broke the promise again tonight, Jennie wouldn’t be there in the morning to witness its lingering effects.
She glanced at the clock. Nearly ten-thirty. He’d limped to the outhouse two hours ago, then returned to their bedroom. But instead of getting himself dressed, he’d gone back to bed. Another habit the old Claude would never have formed. How she longed for the Claude she’d once known—the proud, hardworking family man who showered affection on his daughter and treated his wife with respect and concern.
She clasped her hands beneath her chin and bowed her head. Please, Lord, let him listen with understanding ears. Let him see how his behavior hurts and hinders his precious child. Restore him to the man he used to be. Oh, please, dear Lord, restore him to us.
Bolstered by the brief prayer, she squared her shoulders and entered the bedroom. He lay propped up on the pillows, eyes open, his gaze angled toward the window. Etta approached the bed, and he rolled his head and aimed a scowl at her.
She teasingly shook her finger. “Do you know what time it is? You should have had your breakfast hours ago. Why are you still lying there?” She sat on the edge of the squeaky mattress and linked her hands in her lap. “I hope you aren’t feeling sickly.”
He stared at her, unblinking, for several seconds. Then he huffed. “Why are you here?”
She drew back, uncertain. “In the bedroom?”
“At all.” He growled the simple statement. He jammed the heels of his hands against the mattress and pushed himself higher on the pillows. “You should’ve gone to town today. You should’ve stayed there. You should’ve given up on me months ago.” He slapped at the leg he’d broken in a fall on that August day almost two years ago. “I’m worthless to you. Why are you here?”
He couldn’t have hurt her more if he’d slapped her. Did he think so little of her and the vows she’d made? She promised before God and man to be faithful whether in sickness or health. How could she abandon him in his darkest hours of need? “I’m here, Claude, because you’re my husband and I love you. Jennie’s here because you’re her daddy and she loves you.” An uncomfortable thought tiptoed through her brain. “Are you trying to drive us away?”
He looked aside. “It’d be better for you if I did.”
She gripped his whisker-dotted chin between her thumb and fingers and turned his face to her again. “Don’t ever say that again. You and I—we’re one, Claude. What God put together should not be torn asunder. If I lose you, I lose myself. Why don’t you understand that?”
He caught her wrist and pulled her hand down. “Why don’t you understand you can’t be whole when you’re bound to me?” He pressed his fist to his forehead, his eyes closing so tight his face crumpled. “I can’t work anymore. I’m nothing but a burden. Catch that train and go to Canon City. Live with your sister. Forget about me.”
He could work again. The doctor in Canon City who’d set his leg said so. The break was bad—it had shortened his left leg and he’d always have a limp. But most of his weakness was from all the sitting. The doctor insisted that if he got up, if he exercised his leg, he’d one day walk the pipeline again. Maybe not as fast, but he could do it. If only he would. And if he returned to his job, they could let Jennie move to town with Delia and Prime, finish school, and enjoy a year of being unfettered before taking a full-time job or starting a family. But as long as Claude stayed abed, Jennie’d never be free. The girl’s love and loyalty to her mama and daddy would trap her here forever.
As much as Etta wanted to talk and make Claude understand, she held all those words inside her. He was too distraught to listen to reason. She shifted around and tucked herself under his arm. With her head nestled on his chest, she wrapped her arm across his torso and held tight. Talking would wait. For now, she would pray.
Restore him, Lord. Do whatever’s needed for Your will to be achieved for Jennie, Claude, and me.