11. The Perm ... THE FARM EAST OF PINE VILLAGE

As Robert had foreseen, Joe bought the Chevrolet Bel Air from the Dowdens. To Robert’s way of thinking, everything about the car was cheap. The aqua ceiling fabric felt like plastic, and it had a pattern of tiny circular holes. After experiencing the interior of the 57 Chevrolet, the 63 seemed cheap inside. The seat covers were not luxurious. Even the exterior lines of the vehicle made Robert feel that Chevrolet had lowered its standards. Robert felt that he was riding in a thin horizontal cardboard box. The lack of chrome and the plain round taillights proclaimed that everything about the car had been cheapened to the lowest denominator, yet the car was dependable. It did not languish for long periods of time in Glen Bisel’s shop; rather, it ran and ran in its bland, undistinguished way. Joe’s family rode in its cheapness from place to place for many years.

Ida drove the Bel Air to Bessie Eberly’s house when it was time for Bessie to give Ida a perm. While Bessie was transforming Ida’s straight hair into tight curls, Ida said, “I think we’re going to move.”

Bessie fumbled her comb, she was so surprised!

“Move! Where to?” Bessie managed to blurt out, fixing a concerned gaze on Ida in the mirror that both faced.

“Well, that’s just it,” Ida said. “We probably will move to Lizzie Williams’ house.”

“Here, in town?” Bessie questioned, her look becoming stern.

“No,” Ida laughed. “Her house out east of town.”

Bessie said, “You mean where the Davises lived.”

“That’s right,” Ida confirmed.

“I’m sure it’s a nice house, but why would you want to move there?” Bessie asked.

“Because we can’t move to Uncle Marshall’s house, which is falling in—” Ida began to explain.

Bessie interrupted, “—Anna and Marshall Rhode’s place?”

“That’s right,” Ida said again. “That’s a nice big house, but the roof has leaked so much that Joe thinks it would cost a fortune to fix everything. He says it should be bulldozed.”

“That’s a shame!” Bessie commented. “Such a big house! But why do you want to move at all?”

“Oh, I see what you were asking,” Ida remarked. “Well, the town has wanted additional revenue, and, at that meeting last week, somebody suggested annexing land around the town to increase the tax base.”

“Yes,” Bessie said encouragingly, once again busy with her comb.

“Joe said that he doesn’t want to pay the high taxes that would be assessed on his hundred and twenty-five acres. He thinks we should move right away.”

“But the town hasn’t annexed his farm, has it?”

“Oh, no!” Ida exclaimed. “That probably couldn’t happen for a year or two, even if the town managed to approve it, and there’s no proof that the town would want to annex good farm land anywhere around the perimeter.”

“But Joe is worried that the town might make that decision someday,” Bessie concluded.

“You know something?” Ida asked.

“What?” Bessie asked.

“I think it will be hard for Joe to move.”

“Why do you say that?”

“He has lived his whole life here. He grew up in the house where Cecil Gray lives, and he has raised his family in the house where we live now, which was part of his grandfather Tom Cobb’s land. I think Joe will feel homesick.”

Bessie laughed! “But Lizzie’s farm is only two miles east of here! It’s not like Joe would be moving to Canada!”

Ida laughed. “You’re right, but Joe is like his mother. They have to follow a routine, and they can’t endure change. I think when Joe is out there two miles away, he’ll feel as if he were in another country.”

Lizzie wanted Joe’s family to farm the old Williams place, so she sold the land to Joe.

When Joe, Ida, Charles, and Robert first pulled into the driveway of what would eventually become their new home, they hardly knew what to think. Charles appeared apathetic, Joe uneasy, Ida confident, Robert thrilled! Out there on the flat land that had once been marsh, the ancient trees around the house formed an oasis in the midst of a desert of black loam stretching toward the horizon in all directions. The maples were gnarled and bent from the constant wind that could roar from west to east during blizzards. A scraggly group of Osage orange trees huddled near a rusty wire fence. Outbuildings of gray, splintery wood leaned in crazy directions. While the others explored the house, Robert walked through the tall weeds to the west until he came to a slough, wet with cattails. The scent of tadpole water arose from the sedge grass. He could see so far away, and, everywhere he looked, the sky was filled with dark gray clouds reflecting the even darker earth, which was wild and lonely.

Robert pushed on through the tangled weeds catching at his feet. He came to a weathered shed where, in his father’s boyhood, Joe Williams had stored his Reeves steam engine, threshing machine, and water wagon. Robert’s great uncle Charley Cobb had worked as the Williamses’ engineer. Charley had died long before Robert was born. While Robert stood near the fallen doors of the shed, he thought how his grandmother’s brother had stood in the same place, oilcan in hand. Robert thought how closely the past pressed in upon him.

Robert joined the others at the house. A long enclosed porch with a sloping floor ran the length of the structure. It was homey. Ida was saying that she would move the kitchen into a large room that could double as a family room and wall off part of the old kitchen to make a bathroom. Robert and Charles would have bedrooms to the southeast of what would be the new kitchen, and Joe and Ida would have the room to the northeast. The empty house felt forlorn. Robert found a blue glass medicine bottle from the 1800s that someone had set on a windowsill.

“Could I have it?” he asked his mother.

“Yes, you may have it,” she said.

For Robert, the bottle came to symbolize the home east of Pine Village.  

Nearly two years would elapse before Joe’s family could move to Lizzie Williams’ farm. During that time, Robert would pass from classroom to classroom as a member of the seventh grade class and matriculate to the eighth grade. Every evening, he looked at the dark blue bottle and thought of the murky pools, the wild winds, the twisted tree trunks, the statuesque herons, the mysterious great horned owls, the scurrying quail, the gliding pheasants, and the cantering foxes that he felt were tugging him away from the security of the village into the unknown countryside, as if leprechauns were working an enchantment to lure him there. He pictured the move as an exciting adventure awaiting him just beyond a theatrical scrim through which, for the time being, he could see but which would not be lifted for him to see clearly for some time to come.

  

36. The Checkup and the Catalog ... THE FARM IN PINE VILLAGE

“Mr. Coffman’s here!” Charles announced, loudly enough for Joe, Ida, and Robert to understand every word, no matter where they were in the house.

By the time Charles reached the front gate of the white-board fence surrounding the yard, Mr. Coffman was already standing there with his friendly smile and a clipboard under his arm. His neatly ironed shirt was worn outside—not tucked in—as if he were at a picnic.

“Are you ready for me?” he asked, while Charles unlatched the gate.

“I think so,” Charles replied. “What do you want to see first?”

Mr. Coffman checked his 4-H clipboard. “I have Robert down for a gardening project. Let’s see the garden!” Mr. Coffman’s smile widened.

By this time, Joe and Ida had joined their sons. Everyone walked along the edge of the garden, Ida’s pride and joy.

The garden lay between the Rhode family house to the east and Cecil Gray’s house to the west. At one time, Cecil’s house had belonged to Joe’s mother’s family, and Joe had been born there. The rows of Ida’s overly large garden were arranged from south to north. As people drove past on State Route 26 or walked beside the school playground, they could look up and the down the rows of lettuce, beets, carrots, turnips, onions, potatoes, tomatoes, cabbages, beans of all sorts, pumpkins, and sweet corn. Throughout the spring and early summer, Ida worked tirelessly to plow and hoe the weeds, leaving clean, straight rows of vegetables. Now that Robert was in the 4-H Club and enrolled in gardening, she had a constant helper.

“Are you keeping good records?” Mr. Coffman asked Robert.

“Yes, I am,” Robert said proudly.

“That’s good!” Mr. Coffman smiled. “We like good records!” He turned to Ida. “Everything is coming along nicely.”

“The rows are starting to fill in,” Ida agreed.

“Will you can again this year?” Mr. Coffman asked.

“Yes,” Ida said with a smile as big as Mr. Coffman’s. “I always have more jars in the cellar than we can get to. I’m planning to make sauerkraut again this year. I didn’t make any last year because the cabbage looked wilted. I guess it wasn’t, but I didn’t trust it.”

“Do you make it in crocks?” Mr. Coffman wanted to know.

“Blue crown crocks,” Ida answered, “without lids. I keep them in the cellar under the smokehouse. I put plates on top and weight them down with bricks. Then I drape cotton towels over them.”

“The kraut you make yourself is so much better than the kind sold in the grocery stores,” Mr. Coffman said.

“The taste is different,” Ida agreed. “It’s not so biting. The flavor of homemade kraut is richer.”

“It’s more complex,” Mr. Coffman offered, “but subtle, too.”

“If my sauerkraut turns out well, I’ll make sure you get some,” Ida volunteered.

“That would be very nice of you,” Mr. Coffman returned.

Throughout this conversation, the group had been ambling up and down the garden and admiring the plants bathed in sunshine.

“You have a beautiful garden,” Mr. Coffman concluded.

“Thank you,” Ida said. “Robert has been a big help.”

Mr. Coffman turned to Robert and said, “You can take pride in a job well done.” Glancing at his clipboard, Mr. Coffman asked, “Dairy?”

“I have Charles’ heifer in the barn,” Joe said.

While Ida returned to the house, the rest walked the dusty path between the chicken houses, through the gate beside the raised gasoline tank from which Joe fueled his tractors, and into the center aisle of the barn. The air was redolent with the fragrance of new hay.

As soon as Buttercup saw Mr. Coffman, she walked right up to the front of the stall and held her nose over for Mr. Coffman to pet.

“She’s a friendly heifer!” Mr. Coffman said, as he patted her velvety nose.

“I think she looks good, too,” Joe hinted.

“Have you been taking good care of her?” Mr. Coffman asked Charles.

“I’ve been teaching her to lead,” Charles said.

“I wouldn’t think you’d have any trouble with her,” Mr. Coffman smiled. “She’s too friendly to be a nuisance.” He turned to Joe. “If there were a sweepstakes ribbon for congeniality, I’d give it to her.”

Mr. Coffman looked toward Buttercup. “The Mitchell boys have some good-looking heifers,” Mr. Coffman commented.

Joe’s smile flickered for a moment, as if a small cloud had passed before the sun.

“The Mitchells always have good stock,” Joe said.

“I think Buttercup will do very well at the fair,” Mr. Coffman said, rocking back on his heels and putting a big check mark on the page in his clipboard.

After Mr. Coffman had driven away, Joe entered the kitchen to have a cup of coffee. Ida looked up from where she sat at the table with the Spiegel catalog open to a page depicting a dress and hat combination similar to the style that First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy wore.

“I’m thinking about ordering a dress like that,” Ida said. “I would have to get some new gloves to go with it on Sundays.”

With coffee cup in hand, Joe stood peering over Ida’s shoulder.

“Does the hat come with it?” Joe asked.

“Of course not!” Ida exclaimed, laughing. “If I order the dress in blue, I can wear my blue hat, which will be close enough, once I take off the beaded thingamajig and the veil. I am going to have to order gloves, though. Mine aren’t like these new white ones. It won’t be long before Della will be visiting the Cheesmans, and, when she comes here and all of us go to church, I’ll have a new dress that’s more in style.”

Della was Ida’s sister that had lived in Fort Lauderdale and had moved to Atlanta a year earlier. Della, Harold, and their daughters, Sally and Becky, were coming to see the Cheesman family in West Point, Indiana. Della had developed close ties to the Cheesmans long ago. Della’s family would be coming along to Pine Village afterward. In her letter, Della had said she was looking forward to seeing the Rev. Lowell Morris and Mrs. Morris.

Ida and her family always looked forward to visits with Della, Harold, Sally, and Becky. … and, on this occasion, Ida also looked forward to a new “Sunday best” blue dress and white gloves!