Monday morning the boys went to school with no problems.

Once they were gone, Da said to Jason, "Walk with me to the store, son. I have a sled to unreserve. And no idea what other to get that boy." They reached for their coats and heard out.

"No piano, huh?"

The older man laughed. "I do believe I've been having that argument since we moved here. Twas your mother's wish on any gifting occasion."

"I remember. She about brained you when you gave her that guitar."

"The one Joshua destroyed using it as a sled?" He laughed. "That you should bring that up now! Joshua is getting a guitar for a Christmas gift."

Jason laughed. "And Jeremy a sled. Were you afraid he might repeat Josh's mistake?"

"That one? No. Morelike he would try to swap. Do you suppose he remembers your mother always wanting a piano?"

Jason thought for a moment, then shook his head. "I don't think so. He's never said anything about it. Or the piano, for that matter, unless we're in town. He likes to play – or play around with – the pianos at Lottie's and at the church."

"So I've heard. I wonder sometimes –" he stopped.
Jason looked at him.

Da sighed. "I wonder sometimes what memories he does have of her. He was so young, and then so –"

"-disturbed," Jason suggested, and his father nodded.

"Disturbed, yes. Yet he brings so much of her still to our life."

"Agreed. I think he was with her so much he – he absorbed things. Like her songs. At the camp, when he'd wake up, or maybe only half-wake, in the night, he'd sing her lullaby from the old country, quietly, to himself, until he went back to sleep. It worked for me as well."

"And he probably understands maybe one out every four words."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that. He has a good ear for languages. I sort of thought it was because of the music."

"Possibly.'

They had reached the store, and Jason wandered around while his father took care of his business. There was a surprising variety of stuff to appeal to a boy, for such an isolated very small town. A sign of things to come?

He'd like to think so. They had been here for ten years, more or less, and the town had hardly changed at all. A few more residents, from Stempel's starting a sawmill, but that was about the sum total of growth for the town. What was that, six new employees along with a few, very few, established but jobless residents?

Not to mention Stempel giving himself credit for 'revitalizing' the area!

Jason wondered, briefly, how long the business would remain 'vital' if the sawmill didn't acquire a regular, reliable supplier of raw materials, then dismissed the thought. Better if it stayed. Less shipping for the supplier, although the material could be sold anywhere. But at what cost?

"Jason," Da called him, and he shook off his (selfish?) thoughts and went to him.

"She was nice," Jeremy said about school. "She let Josh say my name when my mouth wouldn't work. Then she smiled and said 'sometimes it's just terribly difficult to talk to strangers, isn't it? We'll both do better when we get to know one another.' That was nice."

"No problems, then?"

Jeremy shook his head, but Josh was scowling.

"Jimmy Hewitt and Charlie Devon shouted out that his name was b-b-broken b-b-bolt, b-b-because he couldn't talk."

"Big boys like that." Da shook his head. "What did the teacher do?"

"Pretended they weren't there. Just kept talking to Jeremy and then me. It was okay, I guess. I wanted to punch them, but I didn't."

"When we was c-coming home, Josh p'etended th-they wasn't there."

"So, no fisticuffs to mar your first day, then? That's good."

Josh shook his head. "It wasn't easy. But we agreed 'bout it, didn't we, Jeremy?"

"Uh-huh. I'm big enough to fight my own battles, an' Josh'll j-just make sure it stays fair. Besides, I think they are waiting until after Christmas. They don' wanna get in trouble afore that."

"Let 'em think he's still a little scared baby. Boy, will they be surprised."

"They ain't bigger than trees I helped move," Jeremy said.

Jason smiled at that, and Josh laughed, and smacked at Jeremy's head.

"Well, they ain't." Jeremy was unruffled by his brothers's reactions.

"That's good, because you aren't going to be the help when you fight 'em. Or have help."

"Yes I am. You."

"Got me there. Is supper ready? I'm hungry."

"Was opening school the parents' gift to themselves?" Jason joked.

"Do you pay those who work for you for not working?" Da replied. "She's here, she's being housed and fed, she can work."

"Well, I pay them by the day, and sometimes we only do a half day's work, so I guess maybe I do."

"Shouldn't you pay them by what they produce?"

"No. At least, I don't think so. Some jobs will take more time than others, but they all get counted together in the end. And –"

"And he doesn't want to do all the record-keeping," Josh put in. "He wants to be out there working, not counting men, trees, hours, totals. It probably wouldn't make much difference in cost, anyhow."

"Board feets," Jeremy said suddenly. "That's what we gets paid for, so that's what we hafta count. An' That Man says we don't have enough when Jason thinks we have too much. They yell at each other about it."

"Tattle tale." Jason said, laughing. "You're not supposed to reveal my failures to our father, boy. You're supposed to help me cover up my flaws."

"There ain't nothin' wrong with you."

A general laugh greeted that pronouncement, and the family settled around the table.