That night, when Charlie had been sent upstairs to prepare for bed, she got into her nightgown, and sat cross-legged on her bed,
twisting the quilt between her fingers, and thinking.
Charlie had gone to open the door, leaving it ajar, and she could hear when Scott was approaching, up the stairs, and down
the hallway.
The book they were reading now was 'The Swiss Family Robinson'. They'd only just begun it a day or so before, but it
was an exciting book, and usually Charlie was eager to read from it. Tonight, though, Charlie was still feeling a little nervous about Scott.
When Scott came in, though, he came and sat on the bed beside her, and acted just as he usually did. He read thru half a chapter,
and after a few minutes, Charlie relaxed, and even scooted over closer to him. When he was finished, and put the bookmark
in, he closed the book, and laid it aside.
Charlie took the opportunity to say, very quietly, "I'm sorry about this afternoon."
Scott looked at her, and then, he put his arm around her, and hugged her closer. And then, suddenly, everything was
alright again.
L
The next morning, Teresa loaded up the wagon with food, and cleaning supplies. Even a broom, since she said
she'd never seen one at Burl's.
Johnny was the one accompanying the girls to Burl's. Charlie was half-sitting on the supplies in the bed of the wagon, and
she spoke up. "The lady at the millinery shop said she would love to have brocade to sell, but that she's never had an
opportunity to offer it-and I was thinking that maybe Burl could sell some of his, and then he'd have some money."
"That's actually a good idea," Teresa approved.
"If the man wants to sell somethin', then he can. He shouldn't need the two of you to tell him so," Johnny commented.
"He's confused, though, Johnny," Charlie protested. "He might not even be thinking of things that way-"
"It's alright, we'll figure it out," Teresa said, sounding determined, and, not for the first time, Charlie felt admiration
for the older girl's pluck and tenacity.
At Burl's, Charlie grabbed the picnic basket full of food, and a handful of the clean rags that Teresa had brought to clean with. She
was at the door of the little shack before Johnny and Teresa were even out of the wagon.
She rapped at the door, but there was no quick answer. Charlie peered thru the window, but could see no old man and no dogs
inside. "I don't see him in there," she told Teresa and Johnny.
"He's probably off somewhere," Teresa said, not seeming concerned. "We'll just go inside and start working."
"Okay," Charlie said, and turned the doorknob. It was unlocked and they went inside.
Johnny set down the heavy box of groceries on the cluttered table. "I don't think it's right, comin' in a man's house when
he's not here," he said, in mild protest.
"Ahh," Teresa said, waving a hand at him.
"I'll tote the rest of the stuff in," Johnny said, and went back outside.
Teresa set to work with a vengeance. She was the undisputed boss of the cleaning expedition. She had Johnny open the only two
windows, which was not an easy feat, since, as Johnny complained, they hadn't seemed to have been opened for years.
"We might as well take down those curtains, too," Teresa told him. "Not that anybody could really call them curtains, anyway-more like
hanging rags."
"Now that's where I draw the line," Johnny protested. "Takin' down a man's curtains-that's not right, Teresa."
"Alright, fine," Teresa dismissed. "I'll figure out some new ones later."
They swept, and washed, and stacked things. They'd been working steadily for over an hour, and still no appearance from
Burl.
"I'll go on out and take a look-see for him," Johnny said.
Charlie had the feeling that Johnny was using it as an excuse to take a break, and get away from Teresa's directives. A few minutes later,
Charlie pushed her hair from her face, feeling hot and sweaty.
"Let's go out and look in the trunks," she suggested.
"Let's wait for Burl to do that," Teresa said.
"Why?"
"I just think we should," Teresa said.
Charlie sighed, but shrugged her shoulders.
"Let's take a break, though," Teresa suggested. "We can have a few of the cookies that Maria packed."
So the girls sat down, to fresh coffee, and coconut macaroon cookies. It felt good to Charlie to put her feet up.
"It's sure a mess 'round here, isn't it?" she said, to Teresa.
"It needed cleaning, for sure."
Charlie nibbled at her cookie, and studied Teresa. "Can I ask you something?"
"What?"
"How come you want to do this? All this work for Burl, I mean?"
"Why shouldn't I want to do it?" Teresa countered.
"I don't know," Charlie said, with shrug. "It's just not something everybody wants to do."
Teresa leaned back in her chair, and chewed at her cookie. "I guess it makes me feel good inside, to help him, in little ways. He
seems like such a lonely old soul."
"I'm glad," Charlie said, and then added, "That you want to help him, I mean."
The two girls shared a smile, and then shortly thereafter, went back to work, cleaning. Dusting, and mopping.
Teresa had made just one pass over the floor, and then had to dump the bucket of water.
"It's filthy already," she said. "I don't think the floor's been mopped in years."
"I'll get another bucket of water," Charlie offered, and once outside, she tossed the dirty water, and went to the pump
to get fresh.
She carried the bucket of clean water back in to Teresa, and then carried some things back to the wagon. The temptation
was great, and she slipped into the shed, going over to the same trunk she'd investigated before. It took a few minutes to
get it opened, and she was careful when she moved the dress aside. She pulled out the jewelry box that had kept her wondering
for the last few weeks.
When she opened it, a song began to play. Charlie didn't recognize the tune, but it was beautiful. There were two rings in
the jewelry box, one a bright green. Beyond that, there were photos, at least three.
Charlie settled onto her knees in the dirt floor, and looked at the photos. One was of a small boy and girl, wearing
outlandishly old-fashioned clothing. They were standing in front of some sort of elaborate church building. The next photo was
of a young man, possibly in his 20's, with his arm around a young girl. The girl was laughing, her head thrown back in joy.
Charlie was just about to study the third photo, when she heard Teresa calling to her.
"Out here!" Charlie called back.
Teresa appeared at the opening of the shed. "I thought we agreed to wait," she said, in mild reproval.
"I just wanted to look," Charlie said. "I'm being very careful."
"Oh, alright," Teresa said, and Charlie could tell that her curiousity was immense, as well.
"Look at the rings," Charlie said, in hushed excitement.
"O my," Teresa said, sitting down beside Charlie, and taking the green ring to look at it.
"Is it a real emerald?" Charlie asked.
"I don't know-I think that it might be," Teresa said, sounding stunned.
"What would that be worth?" Charlie asked.
"A lot-I don't know how much-"
Into their awed silence, Johnny's voice rang out. "Teresa! Charlie!"
Teresa got to her feet and went to the shed opening. "We're here!" she called back.
"What the devil are you two up to?" Johnny demanded, appearing a few moments later.
"We're just having a look," Teresa told.
"Did you find Burl?" Charlie asked, looking up from the rings and photos.
"Yeah. He was traipsin' off in the hills-he says he's hungry. Let's have lunch."
"Alright," Teresa said. "Come on, Charlie."
"Can I bring the ring? To ask him about?" Charlie asked.
"Leave all that stuff where it is," Johnny ordered.
"But, Johnny, we think it's a real emerald!" Charlie said, scrambling to her feet, and taking the ring over to hold
out to him.
Johnny gave the ring a quick perusal, and then said, "Well, leave it for now, and come and eat. He seems real confused today-I
doubt he'll remember much of anything."
Disappointed, Charlie went to put the ring carefully back into the jewelry box. Before she followed Teresa and Johnny inside, though,
she took the two photos, and slipped them into her overall back pocket. If she had the chance, she wanted to ask Burl about
the people in the photos.
Once inside, Burl was sitting in the rocking chair. He was dressed as raggedy as always, and was just rocking, and sipping something
from a dirty cup.
He gave Teresa and Charlie a somewhat blank look, as if he didn't recognize them. Teresa went on to unpack the
lunch from the picnic basket, and began setting the food onto the table.
Charlie went up to stand beside the chair.
"Hello, Burl," she said, in greeting, hoping that he would be less confused if she initiated conversation.
Burl gave Charlie a watery-eyed look, but said only, to Johnny, "Let me have some more of my jug, gun man."
Charlie flicked a look at Johnny. Gun man? Why was he calling Johnny that?
Johnny didn't show any particular resistance to the handle. He went to the corner beside the bed, and pulled up the jug that
Charlie had seen once before, and came over to refill Burl's cup.
"He should be eating, not drinking that," Teresa said, in a low tone.
"Let the man have his drink, Teresa," Johnny said, recorking the jug, and setting it down again.
Instead of sitting around the table, Teresa served Burl a plate of food right there in the rocking chair, and the rest of them
took a seat wherever they found it. Burl ate well, finishing two of Maria's rolls, filled with thick slices of ham, and peaches from
the trees at Lancer. When Charlie had finished her own peach, she kept the pit in her mouth a few moments, letting it roll over
her tongue before she plucked it out, and put it on her plate.
Burl, silent during his meal, finished and then looked up, his eyes now clear. "This old place ain't looked so fine since I first came-all
cleaned up the way it is. Looks just fine." He surveyed the room with obvious pleasure.
"I was thinking I could make you some new curtains," Teresa was saying. "I could get some goods at the mercantile-"
"I reckon I could use a fresh pair of window coverings," Burl said. "No need ta buy any goods, though. I've got plenty
of things 'round here to sew up."
Teresa exchanged looks with Charlie and Johnny, and Charlie knew that she was thinking the brocade wouldn't suit for
curtains.
"Look under the bed, there, girl," Burl told Charlie. "Likely you're the most nimble of the lot of us to do that sort of crawlin'."
He smiled, a rare smile, showing teeth that were black from tobacco.
Charlie wasted no time in going to the bed, and lying down on her stomach to pull out packages from underneath. There were
masses of them. She pushed out brown package after brown package. By the time she was finished, she had to wipe the dust
and cobwebs from her arms.
She and Teresa carried the bundles to the table, and Johnny pushed the basket of food to the side to make room.
Burl got up, stiffly, and then came over to the table. He surveyed the packages, all of different sizes. From large to small. Bulky to
tightly wrapped, all tied with brown string.
"Let's see now," Burl said, running his fingers over the packages. "It's in this one, here-" and he handed a package to
Teresa.
"Do you want me to open it?" Teresa asked him.
"'Course I want ya to open it," the old man responded. "Why else did I have the young one crawl under there to fetch it?'
Teresa pulled at the string that was tied, and then unwrapped the brown paper. Inside there was colorful material. Nothing as
elaborate as brocade, but robins egg blue material.
"That'd make some right nice curtains, wouldn't it?" he asked Teresa.
"Yes. Beautiful curtains," Teresa agreed.
"Right, then. There's some thread and such in that bureau," he said with a gesture.
Teresa went to search thru the bureau, and when Charlie came to look, she saw that the huge deep drawer was filled with
threads, of all colors, and needles, and ribbons. Masses of things. More than at the millinery shop. The two girls exchanged
curious looks. Teresa took out several spools of thread, in blues, and took them over to the old man.
"Fetch my scissors there, girlie," Burl said to Charlie, gesturing, and when Charlie had done that, Burl sat down at the table.
He took the blue material, and then, after eying it, he laid it flat and began to snip at it with his scissors. He cut so fast that
Charlie was in awe.
When he'd finished cutting, he held it up, and then said, "There now, that will work. Will one of you young ones thread my needles
for me? Some days it's too hard for my eyes to manage. Use this thread-"
Teresa threaded a needle, and handed it to him, and they all watched as the old man bent over the blue fabric and began to
stitch. Charlie, who wasn't much inclined to sew herself, still knew that something magical was happening. And, a short few
minutes later, Burl held up the blue material, and showed its transformation from just a piece of material to a delicately stitched
curtain. Or the healthy beginnings of a curtain, anyway.
"Here, now," Burl said, abruptly, laying the material onto the table. "My fingers are tired."
He began to rub at his knarled hands.
"They'll be beautiful," Teresa said. "You're very gifted."
"It was my trade," Burl said.
And, then, for the next thirty or so minutes, Charlie sat still, enthralled, as Burl talked of making fancy dresses for ladies
and ball costumes for high society in pre-famine Ireland. He seemed animated during the story-telling, and Charlie slipped closer,
taking out the photos she was carrying.
"Who are the people in the pictures?" she asked, holding out the two tin types to Burl, as he stood, and made his way back to the rocking chair.
Burl studied them, first the one of the two children. "That's Lettie," he said, his face going soft.
"Who was Lettie?" Charlie prompted.
"Ah, Lettie, she was a fair lass-her hair was the color of wheat in the sunshine-"
Charlie had her mouth opened to ask again, the identity of the two children, but Teresa touched her hand, and shook her
head slightly. "Let him talk," she whispered.
So Burl talked. He talked on and on, telling stories of the beautiful Lettie. Her hair of gold, and her bravery-climbing the
tallest trees, even the trees the boys were too fearful to climb.
The second photo, of the young couple, the laughing girl, well, Burl said that was Lettie, too. He didn't name the young man, but
only went on about the dress that Lettie was wearing in the photo. Pointing out the bow at the waist, and how prideful Lettie had
been of it.
"She wore that dress, even on the moors-she said it wasn't a dress to save-it was a dress to wear, to enjoy-"
Burl talked so long, and then, just as quickly as he'd been spurred to conversation, he became silent, his head dropping as he
fell asleep.
Johnny shook his head slightly, and stood up, packing up the things on the table.
"Leave the rest of the rolls for him," Teresa said, quietly.
Charlie, who'd gathered her favorite pup to hold close during the story-telling, set him down now.
"Let's get things loaded up," Johnny told her.
"We don't have to leave yet, do we?" Charlie protested. "We haven't had a chance to ask him about selling any
of the material or things!"
"We'll see," Johnny said.
The three of them took some more of the cookies left, and sat outside, on the small stoop, with the dogs, while Burl
napped.
"We still don't know who Lettie was," Charlie lamented.
"His first love," Teresa said. "It has to be."
"Maybe that's him in the picture with her," Charlie suggested.
"It didn't look like Burl at all," Johnny objected, and Charlie smiled to herself. Johnny was more intrigued than he
wanted to let on.
L