CHAPTER SEVEN
The thrashing Hans received from his father actually had some effect, at least for a short period. He spent a few days paying attention to Miss Rivers at school, but quickly discovered he was much too far behind in everything except drawing to have a hope of catching up without some extra help. Not being able to read and write affected everything else and he quickly lost interest once again and spent most of his time passing sketches back and forth with Billy, who now sat at the next desk after the place had become vacant.
Billy, who could read and write, paid attention to the lessons when it suited him, which wasn't all that often, but he still managed to survive with average grades without appearing to make the effort the rest of the class put into their studies. Hans envied him for just about everything and wished constantly that he had Billy for a brother instead of Lars and Leif.
It turned out that Billy hadn't been aware that Jorgen knew his mother, but he boldly asked Lillian about it and reported back to Hans at school the following day that Jorgen occasionally visited the saloon. That was all Billy said, but Hans suspected there was more to it, only he didn't yet understand what. It was another three years before he came to realise that Jorgen was one of Lillian's customers, albeit rarely.
Despite Jorgen's orders that Hans keep away from Billy and his mother, the two boys remained fast friends and Hans managed to visit him on the weekends at least once or twice a month when his father was too busy to notice whether he was home or not.
In addition Jorgen did his best to keep an eye on Hans' schoolwork and after a further six months was furious to find that no progress had been made since his meeting with Miss Rivers. He decided to visit the teacher once again and discuss removing Hans from the school and employing a tutor to teach him at home. However, Jorgen didn't have the chance to go to the school before Lars was sent home to fetch him to deal with the now eight-year-old Hans.
Billy was home sick that week and with Hans alone, Thomas and his friends had decided it was an ideal opportunity to tackle the younger boy. They waited until Miss Rivers and the other teacher were out of sight during the lunch break and then cornered Hans where he sat in the yard eating his lunch. However, Hans was no longer intimidated, even alone and faced with all four of them and a fight immediately ensued. Two of the smaller boys in the group backed off quickly, leaving Thomas and the fourth boy, Bobby, tussling with Hans. Hans managed to wind Thomas and while he bent double, gasping, threw himself at Bobby and beat him with fists and feet, causing a bleeding nose, black eye and split lip by the time Lars and Leif, under the instruction of Miss Rivers, dragged him off. Lars was immediately sent home to fetch Jorgen and Bobby was taken home by one of the older boys from the other class.
Hans stood outside Miss Rivers' small office while she and his father talked about him and when they eventually emerged, both looking annoyed, Hans was dragged out of the school by the arm with no explanation until they reached the house.
"You've been expelled," Jorgen said grimly, the moment the door closed.
"Expelled? What's that?" Hans asked innocently.
"It means you're no longer welcome at school. They're giving up on you, with your failure to learn and now this fighting. What's got into you? I take it this is Billy Jenkins' influence."
"He ain't even at school, he's sick," blurted out Hans.
"He isn't at school," Jorgen corrected. "I didn't bring you up to speak like that."
"So does that mean I don't have to go to school any more?" Hans asked, thinking that this was the best thing that could have happened to him.
"You won't be going to school, you'll be having a private tutor. I won't have you growing up ignorant. Eight years old and you can't even read; I'm ashamed of you, Hans!" Jorgen exclaimed.
"Sorry, Father," Hans said, feeling anything but. No more school! Even Billy had to stay for a few more months yet before he would be allowed to leave and find work on a farm or delivering for a local store. He bit his lip to hide a grin, but didn't completely succeed.
"You find this amusing?" Jorgen demanded. "You think failing at even the most basic skills is something to be proud of?"
"No, Father," replied Hans, lowering his head to disguise his expression. He was good at fighting and playing poker and riding a horse; what did he need to write and do sums for?
"Get to your room," Jorgen said in exasperation. "I don't want to see you until the morning."
Hans went up to his room without a word, grinning the minute his back was turned. No more school and not even a thrashing. Things were looking up.
The following Monday the tutor arrived, a young and pretty lady named Miss Featherstone. She was not quite what Jorgen had been expecting when he answered her advertisement, hoping to see a severe middle-aged lady with plenty of experience dealing with stubborn children. Jorgen decided to give her a month's trial before making any decision and much to his surprise, Hans seemed to like her. At least he made some effort to begin learning and by the end of the first month he knew the alphabet and could write his name, remembered various historical facts and was able to do basic mathematics in his head.
Jorgen relaxed and Miss Featherstone was set to continue teaching Hans permanently until much to everyone's disappointment, her mother became seriously ill just weeks later and she was forced to resign to care for the elderly woman. Jorgen replaced her with the previously imagined middle-aged tutor, a widow named Mrs Wakeman, whom Hans instantly hated and did everything in his power to annoy. His refusal to work and prank-playing resulted in the woman punishing him by striking his knuckles with a ruler on numerous occasions and his father following it up with the belt when he received a suitably poor report from Mrs Wakeman.
By the time Hans turned nine, Mrs Wakeman had handed in her notice and Jorgen had given up. During that time it hadn't occurred to anyone to discuss the situation with Ilse, who wrote regularly and visited the family at Christmas. Jorgen hated to admit his youngest son was a badly-behaved ignorant thug and couldn't bear to ask his mother for help, while Lars and Leif preferred to boast about their own achievements rather than waste their time talking about Hans. They were now almost fifteen and looking forward to going to college in another year.
Jorgen decided the only thing to do with Hans was to put him to work and thus arranged for him to take a job on a farm two miles away. The boy was required to walk there each morning and return on foot, exhausted in the evenings, carrying out whatever tasks the farmer, Jeremy Hawkins asked of him in the interim. He set off reluctantly on the first day at five-thirty, wondering how he could get out of working. He would much rather go to Billy's house for the day. The other boy had recently left school himself and with Hans not allowed out, it was almost a month since they had seen each other.
By the time Hans had finished considering whether or not to shirk the job, he was within sight of the farm and decided he may as well continue and see what it was like, rather than return home to a certain thrashing later. He walked up the track towards the farmhouse, assuming he should report there.
"Hey, Hans!"
He spun around in surprise at Billy's voice.
"What are you doing here?"
"I oughta be askin' you that," grinned Billy. "I've been here a month, you'd've known that if ya'd been 'round."
"Sorry, Father wouldn't let me out," Hans grimaced. "The last tutor quit, so I'm to work instead."
"Bet your pa don't know I'm here," Billy said.
"No. What do I have to do? Have I to see Mr Hawkins?"
"No, he said there was a new kid startin', I've to show ya the ropes. We gotta clean the barn first. Come on." Billy set off towards the large wooden building and Hans followed, now smiling. Working on the farm wasn't going to be so bad after all with Billy for company.
The Hawkins farm primarily ran beef cattle, but also kept half a dozen horses, two dairy cows and some chickens, in addition to the four acres of crops and vegetable garden. Billy and Hans, subsequent to clearing out the barn, were required to work in the fields, look after the horses and occasionally herd the cattle which involved horseback riding. Hans found himself progressively more and more delighted that Jorgen had given up trying to have him schooled and actually managed to impress Mr Hawkins with his hard work. The boys were required to work Monday through Saturday with Sundays off and Jorgen was surprised to receive a favourable report from the farmer after the first week, advising that the new employee was pulling his weight.
The days on the farm were long and tiring with the addition of the two mile walk morning and evening, but Hans relished being out of the house and other than supper each day and attending church on Sundays, he saw little of Jorgen and his brothers. There was only one thing which marred his new found pleasure in life. Lars and Leif delighted in telling him that Nana was now writing to them personally, rather than just to Jorgen and including with each letter a note for Hans. The younger boy found them reading one such letter one Saturday evening when he returned from the farm.
"Who's that from?" he asked them.
"Nana," Lars grinned.
"What does she say?" Hans asked eagerly.
"You can read it yourself later," Leif told him.
Hans scowled. "You know I can't."
"Well, that's your hard luck then, isn't it?" said Lars, holding out a piece of paper towards Hans. "Nana wrote this page just to you."
"If you hadn't been such a worthless little idiot in school you'd be able to see what she says and write back to her," added Leif.
Hans didn't need any more encouragement to fly at both of them, although the two teenagers were more than a match for him and merely pinned him to the floor and laughed at him.
"Let go of me!" Hans growled. "I hate you, ya bastards!"
"You better not use language like that in front of Father, he'll go back to thrashing you," Leif said, letting go of Hans.
"Try that again, we'll thrash you ourselves," finished Lars. "Get out of here, we want to finish reading our letter!"
"Oh, wait…. this is yours." Leif picked up the single sheet of paper and thrust it towards Hans. "Maybe you'll get someone to read it to you one day, if you dare admit to anyone you can't read."
"I hate you," muttered Hans, snatching the note and backing out of the room.
"Yes, you said," responded Lars.
Hans went to his room, clutching the piece of lavender scented paper in one hand and shoved his door closed behind him. The page was covered with curly writing which may as well have been in a foreign language. The only part he was able to make out was the second word, Hans. At least he could read his own name, for all the good it did.
Hans spent most of Sunday in his room after church, thinking about the letter which he had hidden in a small wooden box beneath his bed, lest Lars and Leif should think about taking it away from him. All he could think about was the things they had said to him and he realised asking someone to read the letter to him was like admitting to being a failure. However, there was one person who had never treated him as if he was and he thought that perhaps she could help him.
"Billy, can I come over to your place for supper?" Hans asked. It was Monday and the pair were just preparing to leave the farm.
"Sure, but won't yer pa come after ya?" grinned Billy.
"I don't think he'll even notice and if he does, it's too bad," Hans shrugged.
"Come on, then." Billy headed towards the lane leading back to town and Hans followed quickly, with growing excitement. "Ma'll be glad to see ya," Billy said as they walked. "She was sayin' just the other day we ain't see ya in a while."
"I wanna ask for her help on something," Hans said.
"Oh, yeah? Well, she'll help anybody if she can," replied Billy, not even asking what Hans wanted with his mother.
Twenty minutes later they reached the house and Billy threw the door open as usual, kicking his muddy boots off on the step before charging in. Hans followed.
"Ma! Hans is here for supper!" Billy called.
Lillian came out of the bedroom immediately, beaming.
"Hello, Hans, we've been missin' seein' ya."
"Me too," Hans said.
"Meatloaf for supper tonight," added Lillian.
"Great. I'll go wash up," said Billy, heading back outside again to the pump.
"Miss Lillian, can ya help me with something, please?" Hans asked at once.
"Sure, 'course I can." Lillian sat down on the sofa, smoothing her red silk dress down over her knees. "Come sit by me."
Hans sat. "I got this letter," he began. "From my Nana."
"What does it say?"
"I don't know." Hans licked his lips, suddenly feeling rather stupid at having to confess. "I can't read," he added in a whisper.
"Lotta people can't read," Lillian said with a smile. "Ain't nothin' to be ashamed of. Didn't ya learn in school, though?"
"Didn't Billy tell ya? I got expelled," said Hans.
"Oh! No, he didn't. Billy ain't one to tell on folks."
"It was when Billy was away sick last year. I was fightin'. Anyhow, Father got a tutor, but she left. I guess it was my fault. I was bad." Hans hung his head. "I work at the farm now, with Billy. Can you read, Miss Lillian?"
"Yes."
"So will ya read it to me? Please?" asked Hans hopefully, looking up at her again.
"Alright." Lillian took the folded sheet of scented paper that he passed to her. "I'll make you a deal. I'll read ya this letter if you'll let me teach ya. That way ya can read the next one yerself and write a letter back to yer Nana."
"Really? You'll do that for me?"
"Sure. We'll start tonight right after supper. You come by a coupla times a week after work and we'll have ya readin' and writin' in no time." Lillian unfolded the letter and laid it on her lap. "Dear Hans," she began.
Hans listened with bated breath, realising that reading and writing was good for something after all and vowing he was going to learn to do it if it killed him.