The Waltons 1 (13 page)

“And I want a hundred and twenty-seven three-cent stamps.” John-Boy brought out three dollars and eighty-one cents from another pocket.

“Go ’long.” Ike glanced at the envelopes. “Whatcha got over there? You startin’ one o’ them chain letters or somethin’?”

“They’re for the Baldwin sisters’ reunion. They’ve invited every Baldwin in the country.”

“Okay, I’ll get you the stamps. But I just sell ’em, John-Boy, I don’t lick ’em. And the mason jars is in. You wanta take ’em with you?”

“I’ll get ’em in the mornin’. And there’s somethin’ else. Cousin Homer Lee wants me to pick up another six dozen jars. And do you have a battery that’ll fit the Baldwin sisters’ car?”

“Sure do. They ask you to pick one up?”

“Well, not exactly. Cousin Homer Lee wants it.”

Ike nodded. “Cousin Homer wants it, eh? He give you the money for the extra jars and the battery?”

“No. He wants ’em charged to the Baldwins’ account.”

“I see.” Ike frowned and carefully counted stamps. “John-Boy, it don’t make no difference to me about chargin’ more jars and a battery to the Baldwins. I know they’ll pay. But knowin’ what I know, I got a feelin’ Ep Bridges might wanta know about them extra jars. And he might not be too partial to the idea of the Baldwin sisters’ car bein’ in good operatin’ condition. What d’ya think?”

John-Boy smiled. “I was kinda thinkin’ the same thing. Will you tell the Sheriff?”

“Glad to. He oughta be in for a game of pool pretty soon. He might like the idea of keepin’ Cousin Homer Lee bottled up out there for a while with no transportation. I’ll let you know what he says in the mornin’.”

On the way home John-Boy made a slight detour past Jenny’s house. He’d said goodnight to her earlier, when they walked home from the Baldwins. But he already missed her.

For several minutes he stood in front of the house, watching, seeing nothing behind the closed curtains. But knowing she was inside was enough. He finally smiled and turned away.

“Hey, John-Boy.” His father smiled when he got home. “We gonna have the honor of your company for supper tonight?”

John-Boy laughed, realizing he had been late or missed supper entirely for the last three days. His father was heading for the barn to milk the cow.

“You want me to do that for you, Daddy?”

“Be glad for your company.”

John-Boy got the milking stool and waited until his father poured some mash in the feeding trough. Chance had strong opinions about people paying for her services. No food in the trough meant no messing around with her milk supply.

“You ever see such a fine day as today?” John-Boy asked idly.

John Walton gave the boy an amused glance. He didn’t remember John-Boy ever taking much interest in the weather before. “It was uncommonly pretty. Looks like spring is here to stay.”

“I reckon spring is about my favorite season of the year, Daddy.”

“It’s a fair time.”

After he finished pouring mash, John leaned on the railing and watched the boy milk the cow. The dreamy look in John-Boy’s eyes suggested he was thinking about more than the weather.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, son?”

“You ever been in love?”

“Yep. Still am.”

“How’d you know it was love? I mean, when it first hit you.”

“Scared me to death.”

John-Boy gaped at him. “Scared you to death?”

“Scared me that maybe she didn’t feel the same way.”

“How was that?”

“The way it still is. The first face that comes into my mind when I wake in the mornin’. The face I carry into sleep each night. A feelin’ that never stops of needin’ her, and bein’ needed.”

John-Boy’s face brightened. “Lordee, don’t I know!”

“You and Jenny, huh?”

John-Boy turned back to his work, blushing. “You like her, Daddy?”

“She’s a sweet little girl.”

“You think Mama likes her?”

“I can’t see any reason why not.”

John-Boy seemed satisfied with that. “Jenny loves it here,” he said after a minute. “She says you and Mama are the finest people she ever met. She says she could just hug Elizabeth to pieces.”

John Walton smiled. “I think you got about all you’re goin’ to get outa that cow, John-Boy.”

Chance had twisted her head, glaring at John-Boy, apparently having the same thought.

VIII

J
ohn-Boy had not expected his euphoric relationship with Jenny to become the topic of discussion at the Walton supper table—at least not ten minutes after he had revealed the secret to his father. But as quickly as he washed his hands and came to the table, he sat down before an audience of hushed, staring faces. Some were smiling, others gaped openly, while his mother and father, it seemed, were doing their best to avoid showing any expression at all.

“What’s the matter?” John-Boy asked as the food was passed.

That triggered suppressed laughter from Mary Ellen and Ben. Then the other children joined in.

“Why you all laughin’? Somebody swallow some giggle water?”

Apparently this was funnier yet, and Erin could hold it no longer. As if it were the most incredible thing in the world, she asked, “Are you in love, John-Boy?”

“Daddy said you were,” Jim-Bob grinned.

“Daddy said you’ve really got it bad,” Jason added. “Is it true, John-Boy?”

“Now, children,” Olivia cautioned.

And then Elizabeth broke the tension, even bringing a smile to John-Boy’s reddening face. With a look of awed concern she asked, “Does it hurt, John-Boy?”

Until that moment John-Boy had a feeling of being betrayed. His father must have made the announcement the minute he sat down at the table. But there was no sign of ridicule in the circle of grinning faces. Grandpa was beaming, his mother and father were smiling sympathetically, and the others had looks of wonder or curious interest. Mostly, John-Boy guessed, he was glad the secret was out. Still he felt he had to play the game.

“What’d you have to go and tell everybody for, Daddy?”

His father’s grin indicated he had no regrets about what he had done. “Why, John-Boy, when two young people fall in love, I don’t see why it ought to be a secret. Seems to me instead of whisperin’ it, somebody ought to shoot off Roman candles or sing a Hallelujah chorus! Don’t you think so, Grandpa?”

“Ought to be dancin’ on the rooftops, I’d say!”

“Well,” Grandma sighed, “you two can sing Hallelujah choruses and dance on the roof if you want. I’m goin’ to eat my supper!”

“Old woman,” Grandpa challenged, “where’s your spirit of romance?”

“Hah! Look who’s talkin’! When was the last time you kissed me?”

The pressure was clearly off of him now, and John-Boy smiled. Then they all laughed as Grandpa promptly responded. He put an arm around her, pulled her close, and planted a big kiss on her mouth.

“You old fool!” she said and pulled herself away. “Now, will someone please pass the gravy?”

The next two days were a glorious time for John-Boy. He and Jenny took another hike to the mountain and discovered new meadows and springs and shaded glens. And they discovered each other.

Jenny told him about her life in St. Petersburg and the terrible feelings of fear and emptiness she had experienced after her mother’s death. She and her father had become very close after that, and when Eula came along Jenny hated her and resented every minute she took of her father’s time. The remarkable thing about it, Jenny observed now, was how kind and patient Eula had been through it all. It was Eula, more than her father, who insisted that Jenny participate in everything they did. And while Jenny did everything in her power to break up the relationship, Eula responded only with love and kindness. It must have been terrible for her father. And when they finally married, Jenny’s running away was more of a gift to them than it was an act of anger or frustration. She was ashamed of her behavior during the previous year and thought there was nothing better she could give them for a wedding present than some time to themselves. But even that, she now realized, was foolish.

However, that was all in the past. They were a family now, and they could talk and laugh about the silly things all of them had done through that difficult time. Jenny and Eula seemed to grow closer every day, and Jenny could no longer imagine a life without her new stepmother.

John-Boy told her about his hopes of going to college and becoming a writer. He was not certain how either of these dreams was going to be transformed into reality, but there was no doubt in either of their minds that the obstacles would be overcome. While they sat by a bubbling spring or lay back and closed their eyes to the burning sun, John-Boy talked about travels to Tasmania and Fiji and Micronesia, and Jenny suggested that when they went to bed each night all of their children would call out “Goodnight” to each other. They would see Barcelona and Istanbul and Athens, John-Boy reflected, and Jenny said she would cook and clean and care for their children the way John-Boy’s mother did. And while John-Boy was writing his books the whole family would sit and watch his face and be completely silent.

They marveled at the fact that only a few days before neither of them even knew the other existed. But now their love for each other was the most enduring thing in each of their lives.

The night after John-Boy’s affliction was announced at the supper table, Mary Ellen’s dreams of riches as America’s foremost supplier of frogs’ legs almost came to an abrupt end. It was only due to Reckless’s alert vigilance that disaster was averted.

Mary Ellen’s suspicions had been aroused the previous day when her carefully calculated inventory of polliwogs revealed an alarming discrepancy. Through a twenty-four-hour period the embryonic amphibians wiggling about in her four backyard pools diminished in number by at least fifty; or as Mary Ellen viewed it, by at least one hundred fat and succulent and very valuable frogs’ legs. There were no lifeless bodies in the pools to indicate they had died from natural causes, nor were any of them developed enough to leave the water under their own power. Mary Ellen’s immediate suspicions fell on Erin.

“The last thing in the world I would ever do,” Erin haughtily informed her, “would be to go within one hundred feet of those dirty little creatures.”

“You were standin’ right next to the pool yesterday,” Jim-Bob pointed out heatedly.

The confrontation took place in the girls’ bedroom where Erin was quietly brushing her hair. Mary Ellen had brought along Ben, Jim-Bob, and Elizabeth to serve as both reinforcements and witnesses.

“It was a mean thing to do,” Elizabeth said, “and we’re goin’ to tell Mama.”

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re all talkin’ about,” Erin sighed, “and furthermore, I couldn’t care less.”

“What did you do with them?” Mary Ellen demanded.

“Would you all please leave my room?”

“It’s our room just as much as it is yours,” Elizabeth informed her.

“That’s right,” Mary Ellen agreed. “And we’re warnin’ you right now, Erin, we’re goin’ to watch you every minute of the day from now on.”

“Well, I don’t think you’ll find it very exciting.”

That afternoon the four partners captured enough replacements to bring the inventory back to normal, but there was no doubt in their minds that Erin was plotting desperately to sabotage the project. While Mary Ellen and Elizabeth went for more polliwogs Jim-Bob and Ben stood guard over the pools, and through the remainder of the day there was not a minute during which at least one of them didn’t have the area under careful surveillance. By suppertime they agreed that the danger had passed and they had only to keep a watchful eye out for the possibility of Erin slipping outside unnoticed. This presented no difficulties while Erin and Mary Ellen did the dishes.

“Did you find your dumb polliwogs?” Erin asked.

“It’s none of your business,” Mary Ellen countered, “but we’re goin’ to have plenty of them.”

“I’d just as soon eat a worm as a frog.”

“Then you’re not a goor-met.”

“What’s a goor-met?”

The question took Mary Ellen by surprise, but she easily handled it. “I don’t know. But E. P. Fairweather says they’re just crazy about frogs’ legs.”

“Hmph! I think they’re just plain crazy.”

“Well, it doesn’t make the slightest difference to me if they’re crazy or not. It just happens that goor-mets happen to be rich and they happen to like frogs’ legs. If they liked worms, I’d sell them a million dollars worth of worms.”

“I’ll bet you would,” Erin said with revulsion.

Mary Ellen had no chance to respond. Outside the kitchen window Reckless exploded into a fury of yelping and whining as if he had been attacked by an army of cats.

Their father came into the kitchen and quickly peered out the window. “What’s goin’ on?”

“I don’t know, Daddy. We didn’t hear anythin’.”

Reckless sounded hysterical now, and John headed for the door. “Well, it pays to check sometimes. It makes Reckless think he’s doin’ a good job of doggin’ if we show him we take it seriously.”

Outside, Reckless was still carrying on, leaping against his rope, barking at something off in the darkness.

“S’matter with you, boy?”

Once out the door, Mary Ellen’s eyes went directly to the ponds, and then she gasped. There, staring indignantly back at her, were the white-masked eyes of a raccoon. In his curled paw he held a squirming polliwog, which he casually plopped into his mouth.

“Looks like somebody’s helpin’ himself to your polliwogs, Mary Ellen.”

In her fury, Mary Ellen picked up the first thing at hand, which turned out to be a hoe. But before she could get to the raccoon, Erin marched past her, swinging the kitchen broom. “Go on, git,” she was shouting, “git on out of here!”

“You dirty, thievin’ little bandit!” Mary Ellen screamed, following after her. “Get away from my frogs!”

The animal moved with resentful slowness until Erin’s broom caught it squarely on the rump. Then it scampered away into the bushes.

“You want bullfrog legs,” Mary Ellen shouted after it, “you go down to the creek and collect ’em yourself!”

Reckless was whimpering now, pleading for release to join the chase, but John held him by the collar. “Calm down, Mary Ellen.” He laughed. “That ol’ raccoon had no way of knowin’ those bullfrogs belonged to you.”