“Will that be just the gas? Did you find everything okay?” Connie asked the customer in line in front of Etta as she rang up the sale of gas at the convenience store, out on the main highway in Beaumont. Connie was Peggy’s cousin’s wife, mother of three, two twin three-year-old boys and one six-month-old girl. She’d taken this job as cashier at the Kum’n Go as a method of keeping her sanity. It was somewhere she could go to get out of the house, talk to adults and socialize with the known world of people who didn’t care about Fisher-Price. “Hey Etta,” she waved at her new friend as she looked back at the line-up of folks waiting to check out at 6:45 am. “Be right with you.”
“No rush. Don’t sweat it.” Etta replied. She stood, in her tank top, shorts and jogging shoes, holding a bottle of orange juice, waiting to buy the juice and perhaps a newspaper from Minneapolis. In the past week, with the influx of a heat wave, she’d started to reverse her run, starting out in the early morning out at the cemetery, then coming back into town on those really hot July mornings, to finish off in the park behind the convenience store with some juice. She needed to replenish her liquids when it was so hot and humid. She’d spent enough time chatting with Connie over the past week or so to become friends and to realize their common association with Peggy’s family.
As the stranger who was paying for gas headed out the door, Etta walked up to the service counter, pulled aside the StarTribune and set down her cash to pay for her purchases. “Getting news from back home, huh? Small town life ain’t for you?”
“Wondering what new buildings are going up, I suppose. Trying to get a feel for life in the city again, yeah.” Connie rang up the purchases and handed Etta back her change.
“Going out back to read that?” Connie asked.
“Yeah. You taking a break soon?”
“Hey May!” Connie shouted behind her back, alerted her supervisor. “Okay if I take a smoke break for a bit?”
May came up to the till, gently pushing Connie’s shoulder, “Sure, you go on now. I’ll finish these up.”
“I’ll meet you out back, Etta.”
“Okay.” Etta walked out of the store, turned to the right, walked toward the back of the store, past the employee parking area and out into the lush, green lawn of Riverside Park and the picnic area next to the flowing river. A tall cottonwood overhung a picnic table which at some point in time had probably been a lovely brown, but had flecks of paint peeling off in several areas. Nothing lasts forever. Etta stepped up on the seating area and sat down on the top of the picnic table, her elbows on her knees, slapping her newspaper down beside her, opening her orange juice and taking a long drink. She held a letter from Isle Royale in her hand, as she’d stopped at the Post Office on her way through town.
Connie came walking up to the table, lighting a cigarette as she strode up beside Etta and sat down, taking a long drag. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“No, go ahead. It’s a free world.”
“Yeah, well, some people hate it. Greg can’t stand that I still smoke, especially now that we have kids, but I always go outside. ‘Spose I should quit before winter sets in.” Connie said. “Of course, I always say that and never do.”
“Well, the road to hell is paved with good intentions, you know.”
“My grandma says that. Speaking of …. How’s your grandma doing?”
“Better. She’s starting to get around pretty well. It won’t be long and she won’t need me anymore. I’d say another two or three weeks of therapy and she’ll be okay on her own.”
“Oh, hey. That’s great! I was really worried about her. She’s such a special lady.” Connie took another long drag from her cigarette. “She’s been cutting my hair since I was old enough to walk. I’m sure she misses being around people, hearing the latest gossip. She’s an institution in this town.”
“Yeah, she does miss the chatter. You should come around just to tell her the latest. I’m sure you hear it all in here too.”
“I do. It’s like a social hour here sometimes. So what you got there?” Connie asked, pointing to the letter in
Etta’s hand.
“He sent a letter. I haven’t opened it yet.” Etta glanced Connie’s way, when Connie raised her eyebrows. “Kinda scared what he’ll say, you know?”
“Yeah, I hear you. But you won’t know until you read it, will you?”
“What if it’s over, Connie? God knows I’ve given him enough reasons to forget the whole thing and move on with his life. He said a lot of things, but…“ Etta took one long, final drink from her juice bottle. “Oh, shit, I’ll just open it.” She tore open the envelope and started reading Tom’s letter.
“Well?” Connie asked.
“He wants me back. He loves me.” A tear that had formed while she was reading the letter was slowly dripping down her cheek from her left eye. She wiped it away with the back of her hand, handed the letter to Connie. “Here.”
Connie quickly read the letter as she finished her cigarette. “Yup, this is a man who loves you.” She wiped the residual butt in the dirt on the ground, then handed the letter back to Etta. “God knows Greg has never written such nice words to me, but I know he loves me. So, what are you gonna do?”
“What can I do? He’s right. We’re stuck.”
“Well, you can give him hope. Call him. Talk to him.”
“Do you think? I think I can leave a message for him to call me back at some particular time. Then we could talk. I miss him so much, Connie.”
“Honey, I know you do. He’s pretty much all you talk about. Call him and talk to him. It can’t hurt.” She stood up, patted Etta on the shoulder. “Sometimes you just need to hear each other’s voice, ya know? Listen, I gotta get back to work then back to the insane asylum I call home.”
“Thanks. See ya tomorrow?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m working. Another chance to escape. Take care of you.” Connie walked slowly back to the convenience store’s back door, next to the dumpster and gave a little wave.
Etta stayed where she was, sitting on the picnic table, looking out over the gently flowing water of the river. This was a constant thing. This river just kept flowing, come rain or shine, drought or famine. It had been here for hundreds of years, still flowing. It had been here when her grandmother was a young girl in love, when Henrietta and Leo had found each other. At some point the Blackhawk Indians had probably lived along the shoreline. It was as old as time. Maybe some things did last forever.
Henrietta’s love for Leo had lasted her a lifetime. And Tom’s love for her was lasting through this period of separation. Connie was right. She just needed to hear his voice and tell him that she still felt the same. They loved each other. And Tom was right that she’d let Owen take enough from her. She shouldn’t and couldn’t let him take Tom from her. She’d go back. As soon as Gen was good enough to live life on her own, she’d go back to him. Back to Marquette or maybe Isle Royale. Now she needed to tell him. Connie had said it right: Give him hope. She’d go home and leave a message at the main office at Isle Royale to have him call her. She couldn’t wait to hear his voice.
* * *
Tom swung his legs over the gunwale of Josh’s boat and jumped into the icy waters of Rock Harbor, grabbing his backpack as he waded into shore. “Thanks for the lift, man. You really saved my arms and shoulders. This is my third trip back this week.”
“No problem. I understand waiting for a message. See you around nine. We’ll knock a few back.” Josh called out to his friend as he maneuvered the boat to head back out into open water.
“It’s a deal. I’ll buy this time.” Tom walked over the main lodge to pick-up his mail. He opened his mail slot, pulling out a letter from his parents, one from Izzy. What was this though in his mail slot? A key? The key was for the large mail slots for packages. He was to use the key to open the larger slot to pick up his package. Hey, maybe his mom had sent a pair of long-johns. She knew it got cold up here at night. Maybe she’d taken pity on him. He bent down to open the lowest package mail slot, slid in the key and pulled out a small, thin box wrapped in plain brown paper. This wasn’t big enough for long-johns. This was getting curiouser and curiouser.
He carried his backpack, his mail and this small package over to a nearby picnic table. Reaching in his back pocket he pulled out his jackknife and cut open the packaging, then opened the small box. In the box was the silk scarf he had once given to Etta. What the hell? Under the scarf was a typed note that read: “Once you told me to pick on someone my own size. I found the perfect person.”
“Damn it. God damn him to hell!” Tom shouted out at the elements. Owen was going after Etta. And for what? Some long-standing payback of his teenage angst? She wasn’t safe and he knew it and he had to get to her. Now. Tom stuffed the note, the scarf and all of the packaging into his backpack and made his way to the office to see about getting the next boat back to Houghton. He’d apologize for deserting his post later. Right now he had to help Etta. He’d go to Mr. Staley and explain everything and together they’d protect her. Right now he had to get back to civilization.
* * *
Etta called that afternoon, leaving a message with one of the gals in the office. Izzy had told her that Tom only got back to the main offices on Tuesday and Saturdays, so she didn’t think it was a big rush to leave a message for him. Tomorrow was Tuesday. As long as she called in a message before then, that would work. He’d call her tomorrow, if he picked up his messages. She knew that sometimes the weather could keep him from getting where he needed to go.
Instead of researching in the library during her grandmother’s rehab appointment, she decided to walk the sidewalks of downtown and do a little window shopping. Maybe she would find a little something for Tom that would be just the perfect thing for him. She wasn’t sure what she was shopping for, but she knew she’d know it when she saw it.
There weren’t a lot of shops downtown, but there were a couple of little gift shops, and of course, the coffee shop and bakery. She wandered from one storefront to another. She went in the little gift shop, going from aisle to aisle looking for something, oh, maybe something with a hockey theme. Maybe something with waterfalls. There was a waterfall calendar. A young man was at the front of the store wearing a short, tan raincoat who was looking at clocks across from the register. This seemed odd, since it wasn’t raining and it was far from a cold day. Etta had jeans on, but even in jeans she was hot as she walked from store to store. Oh, well, to each their own.
She stopped by the bakery. It was an older store that still had an old-fashioned “soda fountain”-type area with the old chrome, one-person, seats that twirled. She sat on one and recalled being a little girl with Gen, twirling endlessly on a seat while her grandmother patiently let her behave as a child. Everywhere she looked in this small town there were childhood memories. Etta ordered a glass of lemonade and a caramel roll, just for old-times’ sake. It wasn’t ten minutes, when an older man came up to her and started a conversation. “Oh, hello Mr. Schoenfelder. It’s so nice to see you again.”
“That’s Art to you, missy. Nice to see you too, Henrietta. How’s your grandmother doing?” She smiled widely. “Much better, Art. Thanks so much for asking.”
“Mary and I are very fond of Gen. We’ve been neighbors for a long time. Since my brother married into your family, well, we feel like we need to take care of each other.”
“Yes, Peggy’s parents are wonderful. Have you heard from Peggy lately?”
“Not really. She came to stay with us when you all came back from out east, then she went home the next day. Please give her our best when you see her.” Art was a big man with big powerful farmer’s hands and just as big of a personality.
“I’ll do that. Maybe I’ll call tonight and see how she’s doing.”
“You’re such a sweet girl. Almost as sweet as that caramel roll. Of course, I’d know. I’ve seen too many of those in my lifetime,” he said, patting his prodigious belly.
“I’ll be sure to work this one off with a nice long run.”
“Have a good day, Etta. Take care of that grandma of yours,” he said, as he walked out the bakery front window. Etta glanced in the direction of the doorway, to make sure Peggy’s uncle made it out the door safely, as he walked with a cane. From the corner of her eye, she saw that same young man in the short, tan jacket, as he turned quickly and walked down the sidewalk away from the bakery. Hmmm. It must be a strange coincidence that he was in the same place again. Sure, it was a small town, but still …
Etta turned again and took a long drink of her lemonade. Behind the counter was a display that read “Worthless Junk – 25 Cents”. When the clerk came back to the counter she asked, “So, what’s in the box of Worthless Junk”?
“Oh, there’s a man around these parts that makes silly little jokes and brings them in for folks to buy. He only charges a quarter. It’s mainly just a hobby of his. But I think they’re funny.”
“Oh really? Can I see what’s in his box?”
“Sure.” The clerk reached around and grabbed the box and leaned on the counter. She pulled out a small round piece of wood and placed it in Etta’s hand. “See, this one here is my favorite.” The little round piece of wood was about the size of a quarter, was painted white with four red letters printed on it “T U I T”. “Do you get it? It’s a ‘round tuit’. So if’n you know somebody who’s always putting things off, you just hand it to them so they can ‘get a round TUIT’.” Etta just shook her head and groaned. “Hey, nobody said they were all side-splitters or anything. They’re just what they say they are, worthless junk.”
“Yeah, but it’s kind of funny. And the price is right. I’ll take four of those.” Etta smiled.
“See, he sells this crap.” The clerk put the box back in its original spot and went back to work. Etta finished her treat and went back to collect her grandmother.
* * *
That evening, after Gen and Etta had gone to bed, Etta pulled out the diaries again and continued on with her reading:
“December 31, 1916 –
Tonite was my first time out as Leo’s intended. There was a fancy dance at The Grange in Garnet. Nellie and Tony were our escorts. I spent the last week taking apart Ma’s finest dress, adjusting and nipping and tucking so it would fit me. Anna stayed up all night last night finishing it so I could get some rest. It felt so wonderful to be in such a fine satin dress and have a man take me out for such a formal thing. It was like being a queen. All that was missing were glass slippers.
Nellie and Tony left us alone out on the patio. The snow was falling lightly, so it sparkled in the lamplight. It was so romantic. And he kissed me and told me he was giving me his heart. I’ve never felt like this before. I swear my feet haven’t touched the ground yet. It makes my head spin when he kisses me. I want to be with him so badly. I just hope he never changes his mind.”
“March 10, 1917 –
Only one more month until Leo and I are to be married. We rode out to the river with Nellie and Tony again. It was getting on toward evening, but there were plenty of blankets in Tony’s new carriage to keep warm. They had wanted to stay in the carriage, since Nellie’s so far pregnant. Leo and I took several blankets to sit along the riverbank. We kissed a long time. He asked if I was sure and I told him I knew my own mind and I was sure I cared for him and could be a good wife. He told me he loved me with his whole heart, as he did his Father and Mother, but on a different scale. Surely we will be good for each other. I don’t know what marriage will bring, but Nellie assures me it is all good and that Leo loves me in truth.”
“March 31, 1917 –
It’s been a week since our wedding - a week of change for me. We moved all of my things from Anna and Bernard’s to a room in Leo’s mother’s home the day after the wedding. I don’t know what Ma Wilson thinks of this German girl, now that America will almost certainly will be fighting Germans, but she says it’s of no account since my name now is Wilson. Nobody needs know. She seems all right with me so far.
I have found one thing to be true for certain. I love Leo with all my heart. He is a tender, kind and gentle man and he loves me in truth indeed. He has touched every part of me and I have natural desires for him that leave me yearning each day to see him again. We have a sacred love for each other than only a man and woman can have and will surely bring children. But even better, we are such good friends. I cannot and will not ever consider another. Leo is my all.”
“April 16, 1917 –
Went to the pictures tonight for the first time as a married couple. It was good to see everyone. I think everyone we know was happy for us. But the news reels were terrifying. The President has declared war against Germany. Russia is in revolution. It is a whole new world and it’s very scary. May the Lord be with us all and those poor soldiers so far from home. I’m so glad to have Leo safe here next to me.”
“June 4, 1917 –
It’s a boy! Luverne Francis Brown – born at 10:17 this morning to Nellie and Tony. And they couldn’t be happier. The child is a strong, healthy and happy boy. Nellie is doing well. I held her hand, along with Ma and Maude, all the way through, which was most of the night and into morning. She says that she’d do it again tomorrow. Well, I hope what she says is true since Leo and I will surely know in a few months, as I am late for my monthly as well. So perhaps our sons (or maybe son and daughter) will play together one day. Oh what a happy, happy day!
Tomorrow is registration day for consignment to the military and just in time, Tony will be able to say he has a child, so he must stay home.”
“October 10, 1917 –
Leo and Ma have put me to bed until the baby is born. Today while I was on my knees scrubbing floors, I started to bleed. Mrs. Schoenfelder said she cannot have me work while I’m so far along, that it is not proper, even for a married woman. They worry so about the child that I am not allowed even to rise to clean myself. I’m lucky they let me up to use the chamber pot. It is very lowly to be in such a state. Even now they scold me for getting up to write.”
“November 29, 1917 –
Genevieve Amelia was born at 10:30 pm on November 25, 1917 – She is a big girl and bright-eyed, with lots of light hair, like my own. Oh, she is the brightest thing I could ever hold. She is good-natured and sweet. She barely wails at all to wake us when she’s hungry. And father holds her sweet head to his to whisper his love for her. He is a wonderful father to her already. I did not know life could be so sweet.”
“June 3, 1918 –
Once again, I am pregnant. Nellie and Tony are coming over to dinner tonight and we will tell them. Perhaps we will beat them to a number two before they can get another. News of the war is sad. Two men from Iowa have been lost already in such a short time. When we went to the pictures last night, the news reels are full of death and destruction. I pray this war will end soon.”
“October 10, 1917 –
My love is sick. Leo has a fever and lies in bed speaking in riddles. I try to get him to sleep but he has fits and wakes with fever. We’ve tried a poultice on his chest and legs. Doc Fuller says there is nothing to do but let nature take her course. Leo’s hacking cough shakes his whole body. He is so thin and loses more every day, while I grow fatter and fatter with child every day. I lay with my body against his to see if my skin can cool off his heat. Oh I pray Father Lord will save my love.”
“November 11, 1917 –
My love is gone. He has passed on and gone to another world where I cannot find him. My heart is gone forever for he has taken it with him. Baby Gen cries for her father and I don’t know how to tell her he is gone. She doesn’t understand. She just wraps her arms around my neck and weeps, laying her head on my huge stomach. Nellie and Maude try to take her away at night but I cannot let my baby go. She is all I have left of my love.”
Etta closed the diaries and put them away, tears streaming down her cheeks. He had been her “all”. She’d experienced unimaginable pain and had been able to write very little of that pain down in her diary. All she knew was that her children were a piece of him and all that would last of them in the world. She did love him with her whole heart. Etta cried herself to sleep that night. And she dreamt of Tom, of losing him and losing her heart with him.