Читать книгу Leroy - K.G. Griffin - Страница 7

Four years passed with the three kids eking out a living and tending to their maw, but she continued to deteriorate and finally refused to eat. Leroy was beside himself as he tried desperately to care for her, but she sank lower and lower, and inevitably on December 4, 1869, she took her last breath. It was a fair-to-middling funeral. The town folk and the country folk came to pay their respects as she lay washed and shriveled in her nicest white lace gown. Even though her skin was stretched tight and her cheek bones protruded, her expression was one of profound peace. The preacher, Reverend Farnsworth, said some words and read from the Good Book about how the “Dead in Christ will rise first.” Then they buried her in the local graveyard next to their paw’s resting place, and Samuel, who had some skill in chiseling, picked out a nice big stone from the farm and engraved it with “Loving Mother Eliza Jane Stockard” and on the next line “Feb 17, 1813-Dec 4, 1869.” The letters were somewhat crooked, but at least they were legible.

The older brothers did not come to the funeral, but John sent a letter from Texas weeks later expressing his sorrow for his dear departed maw and thanked the younger ones for taking such good care of her until her death. Leroy read the letter and then wadded it up and threw it in the fire with a curse, “Dad-gum-it! They couldn’t even come home for our maw’s funeral. Even if they’d a showed up late, it woulda been a comfort to us all, but no!”

Their mother’s death was actually a relief for Mary Jane, Samuel and Leroy. It had been a terrible burden to care for her and stay shackled to the farm when they were hankering to move on. Mary Jane had fallen for a returning soldier, Henry Beckham, and soon after the funeral they married. She and Henry decided to keep the farm and had begun planning their future. Samuel had moved to Nashville where things were slowly beginning to flourish once again. He had high hopes of finding a railroad job. That left Leroy wondering what to do.

Leroy had grown considerably during the four years. His hair was still blonde, but not as light, more like the color of hay, and he now had a bit of fuzz on his upper lip. He struggled to keep his voice on the right note. He would begin speaking in a deep tone, and then without warning, it would switch to a higher squeaky tenor. When that happened, Samuel and Mary Jane would look at each other and try not to laugh, but they could not help but snicker. Leroy’s arms and legs were now quite hairy, and although he still had some freckles, he also had more than a few pimples. He had started wearing some of his older brothers’ clothes, and they mostly fit him except for the waist. He cinched the britches tight with an old belt that had belonged to one of them.

He stayed on the farm another year to help Henry and Mary Jane, and things were beginning to prosper. They planted wheat in the upper pasture and with the profit were able to purchase a heifer. Henry’s brother had a bull that they borrowed for a couple of days, and the result was a beautiful little calf nine and a half months later. They still had Smiley, their milk cow, and they had chickens, a sow with piglets and a couple of goats. And best of all, Henry and Mary Jane had a baby boy of their own, whom they named Harold.

However, as time passed, Leroy grew antsy. Although he loved his sister and his brother-in-law, he wanted to strike out on his own. After mulling over his options, he finally said, “I’ve made up my mind. Come spring, I’m headin’ to Texas to find those dad-gum brothers of ourn.”

“And jest how you gonna git there?” asked Mary Jane.

“If you’ll let me have her, I’ll take Molly.”

“Course, you can have Molly. She’d be heartsick without you. But I’ve heard Texas is mighty big. Do you have any idee where you might find ‘em?”

“Well, the last letter we got from Johnny mentioned he was in Fort Worth. Imagine him livin’ in a fort, and me too. That’s where I’m headed.”

“You’ll need to be in a fort with all those wild Injuns chasin’ around scalpin’ people. They would dearly love to get ahold of yore cotton top.”

“They don’t scare me none. I’ll take Paw’s old huntin’ rifle. Might not kill ‘em, but it would scare ‘em.”

“Leroy, you don’t have to go. You could stay here with me and Henry.”

“Naw, I gotta strike out on my own. I’m 15, and I’m darn-near growed. It’s time I started makin’ my own way. Texas, here I come. Yee-haw!”