"You can go out and visit the grave if you'd like to, Mr. Lay." Emma Beck told him, as she saw him slouched over in his chair, unshed tears in his eyes. "Say goodbye….pay last respects."
"Thank you, ma'am…" Fred answered hoarsely, rubbing the palms of his hands. He sighed a little and got up and walked outside. He trudged slowly through the yard and came to the oak tree and stood under it. A few steps away from it lay a stone, with the name L. Beck carved in it. Fred stood there for minutes with his hands in his trouser pockets. He was silent for a long time…until he spoke, his voice cracked and almost shaking….and it wasn't long until he couldn't hold the tears in anymore.
"I…I know now….I know you…" He started to say, and looked up. "What am I saying?" He looked up at the sky through the tree branches and tried to think of what to say. "I don't know….whether…whether you meant what you did to this old boy….or…or if ya just…if you were out of your mind…and…and just snapped and wasn't aware of what you were doing!…." He finally got a few words out and then the tears came and overflowed. "I want you to know…." He almost whispered, his voice shaking. He ran a hand over his face. "Oh gosh!" He breathed and tried to collect his thoughts again. "To know that…I…I don't…I don't hate you anymore!" His knees buckled under him and he dropped to the ground, a clenched fist on the trunk of the oak tree, red eyes and his tear-soaked face staring at the little gravestone. "I don't hate you!….I'm not bitter anymore…of what happened!" He suddenly clenched his teeth in a small amount of anger and cried. "I used to hate it!...Hated it with a passion…I felt ashamed of how disfigured you made me! I hated you and what you did! And….I 'm sorry! I'm sorry for that now….and it's over. I don't feel that way. Not anymore….Because, these here scars….these scars…..they've taught me to love…..to have compassion for folks….to know…to know that no one's perfect. And most importantly…my scars show me the physical hurt is over! My wounds are healed…..but…but one thing I never took care of, was my emotions through it. My emotional scarring. I'm fixing that today, I think. That now I can finally say that my emotional scars are healed….and my hurt is over…today." Fred sat there and just lost it as he almost began to sob. He sat there crouched against the tree for a long time and felt his eyes dry up. "It's over and it's done with right here…..right now….today."
Fred sat there and finally felt peace in his heart. Like everything was alright now. He left everything….all the hurt…..his feelings from his abuse he suffered….the anger….the shame. You could say it was all buried right there….under the old oak.
"You okay, Papa?" Freddy spoke up and Fred turned his head and saw his boy standing there.
"Yeah…Yep, I'm alright….I'm okay. Now."
"She your adopted Mama?" Freddy asked, looking at the gravestone.
"Yeah…." Fred managed to choke out. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. By law she was."
"Why say that?...Didn't she love you Papa?"
"That….That I don't know, son." Fred said quietly. "She could have….towards the end. And I wasn't there for her to say so…."
"Mrs. Beck is wanting us to stay for supper." Freddy announced. "Are we gonna, Papa?"
"Sure." Fred smiled. "C'mon….let's head inside."
"Mr. Beck is your adopted Papa."
"Yeah…He is." Fred smiled, and put his arm around his son, walking into the house.
"So he's my adopted Grandpa." Freddy smiled.
"I think Amos and I would be honored to be so." Emma smiled at him.
"I had a feeling you would." Fred smiled. "Guess I'm your son then."
"And there's another honor for me…..but I feel Amos always claimed you as his own." She said, wrapping her arms on her husband's shoulders.
"He did….." Fred said solemnly. "I….I never could call him my Pa. It…It isn't too late to do so…..Is it?" He spoke, and tried clearing his throat.
"No….I don't think so." Emma said. "Not until you're dead!"
Fred laughed a little. "I think I like that."
"'Course you don't wanna die, Papa!" Freddy joked. Which made everyone laugh.
After the laughter had ceased, Fred looked at Amos and spoke up. "I'm glad I can finally call you my Pa."
"Glad to finally hear it, son." Amos said.
(
As Fred and Freddy headed home, back in Dubuque, Frances and Helen were outside between the rock wall and the summer kitchen, stoking up a fire so they could heat up water to wash the family's clothes.
"Mama! It's way too hot to be doing this!" Helen complained a little, red faced and sweating.
"Well, roll your sleeves up, honey! On a day like today, you'll overheat!" Frances exclaimed, helping her 12 year old daughter with the sleeves on her floral print blouse. She rolled them up to her elbows, as they were on her own light pink blouse.
"Why do I gotta wash Freddy's underthings? It's disgusting!" She said, holding up a garment and wrinkling her nose. "He's always so….sweaty!"
"That's the way it is. I'm sorry." Frances chuckled…just a little bit. She went back to scrubbing a shirt of her husband's, when she noticed a lady walking up the path to their little house. She put a hand up to shield her eyes from the sun. "Oh, Helen's here!"
"Hello, my friend!...Such a hot day today, isn't it?"
"Blazing!" Helen Clark Spencer replied.
"Why don't you come in for a glass of ice cold lemonade?" Frances smiled.
"Sounds wonderful." Helen Spencer replied, walking into the house with Frances and her daughter. "I do have something I need to tell you, my friend. Its why I came."
"Let's get that lemonade and then you can tell me." Frances said, grabbing three glasses and the pitcher of the cold, tangy drink.
"Agreed!" She smiled, grabbing her glass of lemonade.
"So…What is it my best friend has to tell me?" Frances smiled, taking a sip. "Good or bad news?"
"Both…all depending on how you look at it."
"Okay…What is it?"
"I'm sorry I didn't let you know sooner…." Helen said. "I didn't know how I should break this to you."
"Helen, just tell me!" Frances said. "You're my best friend! We've been friends since I was about 9, maybe 10 years old! You can tell me anything!"
"Ross and I are moving, Frances…I'm giving up my job as a midwife. My mother will tend to that… I'm going to be a school teacher from now on. It's been my dream since as long as I could remember!"
"Where…and when are you moving?" Frances asked.
"Denver, Colorado…..we're leaving…in a few days."
"You'll write me….won't you?"
"Of course!" Helen said, getting choked up already. "You're my best friend! Why in the world wouldn't I?"
"I'll miss you!" Frances said, hugging her and felt tears well up in her eyes. "But what kind of a friend would I be if I kept you from doing what you really wanted to do?"
"You don't know how much I'll miss you, my friend. You've taught me so much….about life." Helen said. "I'll write you whenever I can. I promise."
"I know that." Frances smiled.
"Can I say goodbye to my little namesake?"
"Of course!" Frances laughed. "Not so little anymore though!"
"Mama!"
"You're already a beautiful young lady is what your mother's saying." Helen Clark Spencer chuckled, hugging the 12 year old. "You be good for your Mama."
"I will." Helen smiled.
"I best be going…." Helen Clark Spencer said, wiping tears from her eyes. And she left and headed home. Fred and Freddy walked through the door after a while.
"You look like you've lost your best friend…." Fred said, concerned about such a sad look on his wife's face.
"No…she's just moving away."
"I'm sorry." Fred said, placing a hand on her back and rubbed it as to comfort her.
"You alright, Mama?" Freddy asked.
"Yes…I'm fine, honey." She smiled a little. "Thank you."
A/N: In the 1920's Helen Clark Spencer left Dubuque, IA (where she also taught school) and went to Denver, CO to be a schoolteacher there…..Frances and Helen, who had been the best of friends since 1903, wrote letters back and forth to each other for years until they finally stopped sometime in the 1930's, as I assume life just caught up with both of them.
