For new readers to this story, I linked Chapter 1. Chapters 2 - 4 are linked under September, 5 - 10 under October, 11 - 18 under November, 19 - 27 under December, and 28 - 34 under January 2019.
Destination Hope – Book 5 – Reconciliation
Charles J. Patricoff
Copyright © 2014 by Charles J. Patricoff. All rights reserved.
Chapter 35
Fifth Birthday
The cycle of life kept rolling along after the mourners departed from Mrs. Marah Merritt’s graveside service. Planting season passed with promising sprouts of new growth. God provided ample rain and the Graham farm teamed with life. The lazy days of summer revealed signs of a soon-coming bountiful harvest of corn, green beans, carrots, potatoes, tomatoes and other produce—another answer to fervent prayer. The Jenkins’ livestock provided a different demand on the family’s dawn-to-dusk work.
Church growth seemed steady, as well. In obedience to the guidance provided by God’s Holy Spirit, Nathaniel focused his energy on preaching the vital importance for each parishioner to live under the Lord’s governance and to have an undivided heart toward advancing the Kingdom of God. As a tangible result, all strife within the “Glory Barn” Community Fellowship disappeared.
As Nathaniel carried a pail of fresh milk to the house, William huffed to keep pace with his father. Following God’s revealed will from the Book of Deuteronomy, Nathaniel used every opportunity to teach his son. “Do you hear the birds singing?”
William slowed his near-running gait, came to a halt, and cocked his head. After another few seconds, he said, “Yes, sir. Do you know why they are singing?”
“I can’t be sure, son. I suspect they are doing what God created them to do. But I read something in the Bible this morning that makes me want to sing.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m happy.”
“Why?”
Nathaniel looked straight into William’s eyes and said, “I’m happy that you’re my son. I’m grateful that God has provided for all of our needs. Do you want to know what I read in the Bible?”
William’s eyes widened. He nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“It was something King Solomon wrote a long time ago. He said, ‘And also that every man should eat and drink, and enjoy the good of all his labor, it is the gift of God.’ I think God wants us to enjoy what we do and to see all we have as His gifts to us.”
“Like a birthday present?”
“Maybe, but I think it is more than that. You, your mother, our friends in town and at church, this farm, and the ability to work the land.” He waved his hand in the direction of their house a few steps away. “All of these things and more are His gifts. I hope you learn to be grateful for all God does for you.”
Eleanor stepped out of the house and stood on the front porch. “And speaking of gifts, we need to get ready for your birthday, young man,” she said.
William glanced up at his father with wild, expecting eyes. He gulped and then asked, “Really, Pa?”
Nathaniel grinned. “Go on. Do what your mother says.”
William snapped his head toward his mother and raced to meet her.
Nathaniel shifted the weighty-milk pail and watched the five-year-old scamper.
Minutes later, they all enjoyed layers of flapjacks, a glass of fresh milk, and the parents drank their customary hot coffee as Eleanor outlined their day’s activities.
An odor penetrated every pinhole opening in the farmhouse and soon caused everyone to cover their noses—Nathaniel with a dish-drying towel, Eleanor with her smudged with flapjack-batter and flour-speckled apron, and William pulled up his shirt, looking like a scared turtle.
They turned their heads at the sound of scratching on the front door. Nathaniel did not open the door. He would not. He wagged his head in disgust and said in a graveled tone, “Bailey.”
“You stink all the way to the heavens, dog.” Nathaniel pulled on the long rope tied to Bailey’s leather collar. “I would have to be downwind from you.”
Eleanor poured another bucket of creek water into the three-foot diameter, metal horse trough the adults on the farm planned to use for the cleansing baptism of their eighty-plus pound canine companion. William splashed water and laughed aloud, self-amused at getting he and his mother soaked with the near freezing water. Bailey dug in all four paws. The dog would not submit to this human nonsense with ease.
When Nathaniel reached the steal tub, he reeled in Bailey like landing a fish from some deep hole in the creek. Bailey’s eyes seemed to widen and shift as if he knew what fate would soon befall the otherwise quick-to-please friend of this middle-Tennessee farm family. Grunting and groaning, Nathaniel used all of his strength to drag Bailey the last few feet.
“It’s not my fault you got yourself tangled with a polecat,” he said.
William threw water onto his dad and broke out in an uproarious laugh. He rolled on the ground almost as Bailey would when he seemed to want to scratch an itch he could not reach any other way.
Eleanor covered her grinning face. “William, that’s not a nice thing…” She bent over and burst forth with louder laughter. “That’s a terrible thing to do to your pa.”
As water dripped from Nathaniel’s nose and chin, he blew a spray toward William and said, “Oh, you’re going to get what-for, Billy. Just you wait.” Nathaniel reached down, picked up the dog, and asked his soon-to-be drenched wife, “Did you bring the soap?”
Eleanor failed to compose herself. Still giggling, she pinched her nose against the odor filling the barnyard and said, “Yes, but I don’t think it will be near enough.”
William continued to splash water in all directions. His high-pitched childish laughter filled the air. Nathaniel would not stop him under any circumstances. It had been a long time since they all enjoyed a deep belly laugh. With Bailey positioned above the basin, Nathaniel warned, “Okay, everybody stand back. I’m going to drop him in the tub.”
Eleanor grabbed the back of William’s overall suspenders, pulled him away from the bath, and nodded.
Nathaniel lowered the big black Labrador into the tank. Before Bailey reached the surface of the water, he shot all four legs out bracing himself on the tub’s thin sidewalls. This last act of defiance caught everyone by surprise. Nathaniel started to laugh. “Would you look at this clown? Any other day, I can’t keep him out of the creek.” He laughed out of control and released his hold on the crafty canine.
Bailey jumped, causing the tub to tip just enough to knock Nathaniel backward.
The chase began. Nathaniel recovered and raced after Bailey, yelling, “Bailey, stop, come, stay.” Nothing worked. He dove for the rope but caught gravel and dirt. Bailey reached the safety of the woods and disappeared.
Eleanor and William laughed so hard at the great escape—well, William would need a fresh set of clothes, anyway.
Nathaniel rolled onto his back. He wiped dirt from his face with his shirtsleeve. His chin felt scraped. I wonder if it’s bleeding. He looked up at the accumulating white and gray clouds, and said, “Dang dog.”
It took a couple of hours, but the family succeeded in scrubbing the stench to a tolerable level. Bailey seemed happy for his reinstated status into a condition of domestic tranquility, and in celebration of their victory, the family tossed to each other one of the new baseballs Eleanor had acquired as a birthday gift for William. Nathaniel tried using his shovel as a bat. He failed to make contact with the ball, but his actions resulted in humorous comments from Eleanor and great laughter from mother and son.
All of a sudden, Bailey started barking and raced up the hill, ignoring the winding lane leading to Mount Hope Road. Before he reached the ridge-line, they heard the approach of many horses. Then they saw a military standard. Nathaniel and Eleanor stared at each other in concern.
Several more seconds passed until Nathaniel recognized the lead officer. The five-member patrol came to a halt a few yards from the farm owners.
“What can we do for you and your men, Captain O’Brien? And you, Sheriff Warren?” Nathaniel asked.
Captain Sean O’Brien offered a proper, respectful salute. “Good day, Pastor Graham.” He pinched the brim of his hat. “And to you, Mrs. Graham.”
Sheriff Warren withdrew a parcel from his jacket’s inside pocket.
“Are we being served?” Nathaniel asked.
Eleanor grabbed William and held him close to her right side.
Sheriff Warren seemed stoic. “On behalf of the Williamson County Court.” He extended the official and sealed order.”
Nathaniel approached with slow, guarded steps. At arm’s length, he reached up to retrieve the package.
“I hate to be the one to enforce this, Graham,” said Captain O’Brien.
Sheriff Warren and Nathaniel made the exchange.
“You’ll need to sign for it,” Captain O’Brien added, and handed Nathaniel his logbook.
Nathaniel submitted. He signed the register. As he handed it back to Captain O’Brien, he said, “Don’t fret yourself, Sean. You’re doing your duty. We hold no ill will toward you. Besides, we were expecting this.” He forced a smile in Sheriff Warren’s direction. This isn’t the birthday gift I had in mind, Lord.
The court documents made it clear to Nathaniel and Eleanor they would have a fight on their hands.
The next day, Nathaniel contacted and retained his friend and counselor, Mr. T. J. Eubanks, Esquire, who gave the Graham’s an honest, bleak assessment of the paternity claim. Realizing that they faced an uphill legal battle, Nathaniel decided his five-year-old son required some special training. He waited until a calm day arrived. As it happened, Eleanor planned a day of shopping in town, with her friends from church.
As Nathaniel, William, and Bailey hiked through the woods, Nathaniel asked, “Can you keep a secret?”
William’s eyes widened. “Yes, Pa. I won’t tell nobody nut-n.”
Grateful for the boy’s exuberance, Nathaniel adjusted the straps to his pack and the harness of his shouldered rifle and then, furthered his inquiry. “Can you keep a secret from your mother?”
William hung his head and kicked at a rock. “Oh, I don’t know, Pa. She don’t like me keeping anything from her. She’s made me promise. And she always seems to know when I’m not telling the truth.”
“But what if it were something real important, like trying to surprise her with something?”
William looked up at his father. “Like when all them cows and stuff arrived at the train station for you and Ma?”
“Do you remember how surprised and happy she acted?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, I knew all those animals were coming.”
“But, Pa, I thought you said you only paid Uncle Marvin for so many, and more came.”
“You heard me say that?”
“You always told me to listen and speak when spoken to, so yes, I heard you tell Ma, you were surprised, too.”
“Hum.” I’d better be a mite more careful what I say around this young man. I’m even more surprised he pays any attention to me. “I see.” Nathaniel made another course correction. “Well, William, what we are going to do today, might upset your mother, if she knew about it.”
“You didn’t tell her did you, Pa?”
He’s a smart boy, maybe too smart for his own good. Maybe that’s why the mayor wants him, now. Nathaniel cleared his throat. “Never you mind, young man.”
Now, William giggled as little boys do and wagged his finger at his pa as he saw his mother do when she would scold.
Soon thereafter they reached a clearing in the woods. At the far elevated end, a steep erosion cut made a natural wall indentation into the hill. Several yards in front of the earthen rise, Nathaniel had constructed a wooden frame, with cross members, almost like shelves. At the near end, he built an eight-foot long, two-foot wide table in line with the structure, close to one hundred yards away.
Nathaniel approached the table, removed the rifle and backpack from his shoulders, and laid them down. He pointed the priceless Henry, lever-action repeater in the hill’s direction. “Well son, do you want to know what we’re going to do today?”
William glanced up to his pa, then at the table, and last at the distant frame. With a squeaky excitement in his voice he almost shouted, “Are you going to teach me how to shoot?”
Nathaniel nodded. “Yes, but I’m going to teach you something much more important—gun safety. And we’re going to go over the rules until you can recite them, perfectly.”
William jumped up and down and clapped his hands the way he saw his mother do with her friends when they shared a happy moment. He swiveled and rushed for the rifle.
Nathaniel grabbed William’s suspenders. “Whoa there, young man. Before you touch anything, you’re going to learn the rules.”
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