"Go on in," Gil said as he unhitched the horses. "I'll put these fellows up."
Sara waited while he fished the key from his pocket and handed it to her. She was a city girl now and she was anxious to get settled so she could practice city life. The key slid easily into the keyhole and opened just as easy. The first thing she noticed was that the front parlor was different. Instead of just four walls and a bare wooden floor, Gil had bought some furniture. There was a sofa, a coffee table, and a big comfy chair that was resting under the west window. Sara had never had furniture that was all her own and she wondered how they could afford such luxuries. Even Uncle Jim found it hard to buy furniture for Aunt Catherine. She rested her hand on the coffee table and found that it was smooth and cool. Its surface was so glassy that she could see her reflection in it. The sofa seat felt like her aunt's and had a pattern of maple leaves and tiny green flowers. She sat Thomas on the sofa to see how he would like it, but he didn't seem to care.
"How do you like it, dear?" Gil asked.
"Oh, I think it is lovely," Sara answered. "We are going to have to move everything else in once I lay Thomas down for his nap."
Gil nodded. "I'll get his trundle bed out and you can lay him down," he said.
"Gil, how can we afford all this furniture?" Sara asked.
Gil held up his hand. "I have it taken care of, dear," he said.
He brought the baby's little wooden bed and Sara made it up with a blanket and a little sheet. She tried to make the baby behave, but Thomas wanted to investigate his new surroundings.
"Just shut him in the house," Gil said. "There isn't much damage he can do yet."
Sara set him in his bedroom and shut the door. For a moment he was quiet, but soon he began to scream. She felt guilty about shutting him in, but the house had to be put in order. Slowly and carefully, they unpacked the table and chairs. Gil built the bed in the bedroom that was to be theirs and Sara made it up with clean blankets that she had washed the day before. Her rocking chair she put in the kitchen and she stacked the dishes on the shelves that were built into the far wall of the kitchen.
"I am going to see if Spot has any milk to give," Gil said as he took the milk pail and went to the small barn.
Sara finished putting up the dishes and turned to unpack what little food they brought; they were going to get provisions later. Thomas still wailed behind the closed bedroom door, so Sara brought him out and rocked him. Gil came back with a little milk and Sara strained it.
"Isn't he a darling?" Sara asked, referring to Thomas.
Gil chuckled. "He is a little rascal that gets into things," he said.
He was referring to the time when the baby had somehow dragged Gil's tobacco pouch off of the table and ate its contents. When Sara finally saw what he was doing he had the entire bag emptied and tobacco was all over his face. She spent hours cleaning him off and Gil had to do without tobacco until he could get more.
"I am going to get some provisions," Gil said. "What do we need?"
Sara said they needed everything and laid Thomas down in the big bed for his nap. Thomas did not want to go to sleep and fussed with Sara. Once the baby had finally fallen asleep, Sara was all alone in the house. Quietly she spread the rest of their things around the house and poured some milk in a saucer for the kitten. Hank was on the back porch, chewing on stick he had found in the yard. The silence was something that was frightening to her. At the old house, there was always a noise or people talking, but here there was silence. Sara looked for her knitting back and sat down to finish the shirt she had started weeks ago.
"If it is so quiet now," she said whispered to herself. "What am I going to do with myself everyday while Gil is at work?"
Quietly she knitted until the sound of the silence persuaded her to go outside. At least on the front porch there was the sound of the birds chirping. She sat in the swing, which was hanging from the oak tree in the yard, and swung slowly. Other people, her new neighbors, were all riding in their shiny buggies. Sara wondered if she was ever going to have a buggy, but those kinds of luxuries weren't necessary.
"I know," she thought. "I'll write a letter to Aunt Catherine."
It took her a while to find the ink well and paper. It was in Gil's satchel, which was still in the wagon. She sat down at the table and wrote of all the things that happened since they got to their new home.
~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~
Waking up was different now. Instead of the old rooster, the wind up clock woke her up before daybreak. Cooking on the new cook stove was different too. Sara liked the extra room and the large oven. For their first breakfast, she made toast, fresh eggs, and mush. There was a little milk for Thomas and plenty of coffee for Gil. Sara could hear Gil get out of bed and she went in to get the baby out of his little bed.
"First morning in our new house," Gil said with a smile. "How do you like it?"
"Oh, I think it is beautiful. The stove is so big that I had breakfast finished in no time," Sara replied as she carried Thomas to the kitchen to dress him.
"I'm going to the school today," Gil said as he buttoned up his shirt. "Will you feel safe here?"
Sara didn't want him to go on their first day there, but she didn't want to be a burden. "I will be just fine," she answered.
"Just in case," Gil said as he took a box down from the top shelf in the pantry. "I got us a revolver."
Sara was surprised that she didn't know they had a gun. She had never fired one before and was unsure if she could.
"Keep it put up and out of the baby's reach. It's easy to use and you use it if you need to," Gil said.
"Yes," Sara said.
Gil smiled and put the box back on the shelf.. "Good," he said as he kissed her head and the baby's.
They all sat and ate the big breakfast and then Gil left with his satchel. There wasn't much to do when you were alone. The books she had brought she had either read, or didn't want to read. Knitting was a bore and she hadn't met any of the neighbors.
"That's it, Thomas!" Sara said. "Let's go meet our neighbors."
She dressed the baby in his best gown and little yellow bonnet. With his little brown shoes and bright blue eyes , he looked just perfect. Sara wore her fawn colored dress and her straw bonnet. Her dark hair was tied back with her Sunday hair ribbon and she had polished her shoes. She had wanted to go bare footed because it was warm, but city folk didn't walk bare footed. At the last minute she remembered the house key and together, Sara and Thomas went to the house that was to the left of theirs. She was anxious as she knocked on the door and debated about whether to go back or not. There were some footsteps leading up to the door and then it was opened by a stern looking man.
"Well," he barked at her. "What do you want?'
"Umm…" Sara stuttered. This man scared her and she wanted to move on to the next house. "I am Sara Grissom. My husband and I just moved in next door and-"
The man slammed the door in her face and for a moment Sara didn't know whether to cry or not. She had never seen someone so rude in all her life.
"He must be a Tory," she told Thomas as they walked to the next house.
The next house was home to a young mother with four children named Judy. She was very nice, but extremely busy. Sara left wondering if she and Gil would have that any children. By the time her visiting was over, Sara found a few good neighbors and a few rude ones. There was a wealthy couple who looked at her dress with disdain and Sara knew they wouldn't be talking to them much. When Gil came home for dinner, Sara told him about the neighbors. He chuckled when she spoke about the rude old man.
"That's Mr. Crabtree," Gil said. "He's always like that."
Sara tried to rock Thomas to sleep, but he wanted to try and catch the kitten. Sara gave up and set him down.
"Go then," she said. "You'll be back when it scratches you."
Thomas scooted off in search of the kitten, which had scampered behind the wood-box. Sara cleared the table and Gil smiled up at her.
"Do you like it here?" he asked.
Sara nodded. "I miss the farm, though," she said.
July 1780,
Sara soon found her routine and life in the city became normal. The new house began to feel like home and the feeling of uneasiness left her. Every morning she would cook breakfast, milk Spot, and dress Thomas. Then she did the wash or ironed or sewed, whatever task she had set out for the day. Gil came home for dinner every day and Thomas slept in his trundle bed as they ate. Sara was often curious about Gil's teaching and wondered if she could perhaps steal away long enough to watch him work. Just then she realized, she didn't know what it was exactly her husband was teaching. She knew it was science, but the science of what?
"Gil," Sara asked one day. "What do you teach?"
Gil looked at her like she was insane. "I teach science, Sara. You know that," he said.
"What kind of science?" Sara asked.
Gil chuckled. "Well, I guess I never did tell you what exactly I taught," he said. "It's called Entomology and it's fairly new. It was started in the 16th century."
Sara nodded. "Oh," she said, going back to her book. "But what is it?"
Gil set down his pipe. "It's about insects," he finally told her.
Sara scrunched up her nose, she had never heard of a single profession being dedicated to insects. She never gave them more than a passing thought.
Gil laughed aloud. "Your face was priceless, dear! It's not that repulsive is it?" he asked.
Sara shook her head firmly. "No, I was just wondering what made you decide to take on that profession," she said.
Gil shrugged. "It's a curious study," he said.
Sara agreed, but wasn't much interested. It sounded boring to her. What on earth did insects do that were so important? They didn't have jobs or fight in the war.
"What on earth do insects do that is so important?" she asked.
Gil laughed a hearty laugh. "They do all lot of things," he said. "If we didn't have spiders we would be eaten alive by mosquitoes."
Sara hated mosquitoes. They buzzed around your ears and flew up you skirt to prick your legs, leaving itchy bumps. The only way to get rid of them was to burn mosquito bar, but they always came back.
"Well," she said. "I don't see how a mosquito is useful anyways."