Chapter 9
Otto is bahl medicine
Work is good medicine

    It had rained with a torrential rage for seven solid days in Anderson Valley. It was a real log lifter (heavy rain). The milky (fog) rain clouds had set on the drearies (mountains) so long it seemed that the sun would never shine again. 

    The snoring sounds of Thomas’ bunkmate Sylvester, mixed with the dripping water from the ceiling, had created its own concerto. Other than dumping the bucket that filled slowly from a leak near his bunk, there wasn’t much more work for Thomas to do. It was almost a game with him now to try and guess how high the water was in the bucket. He could tell when it needed to be dumped by simply listening to the pitch of the water. The higher the sound, the closer it was to top of the bucket. When it reached a certain pitch Thomas would get out of bed and dump it, then he would replace the bucket under the drip and lay back down in his bunk. He would settle back in to the plunking sound of the water hitting the tin and the short snorts and long passages of wind emanating from Sylvester in the next bunk. 

    Thomas was tired of the rainy days and he lay impatiently on his bunk. The murky days always made Thomas restless. It seemed like a thousand years since he was at the dance and saw Alice with Mason. 

    Winter was never a good time for him. It was in the dead of winter when his mother passed away. He knew it wasn’t good to remember about her suffering in her final days but the dreary weather set the mood for his memories and he had a hard time fighting them. It seemed whenever her tried to find a good memory of his family, it was interrupted by a bad one. He desperately hoped for the warm summer days again, where he could work off his thoughts and demons in the fields.  

    Spring would come and raise him and everything else from the dead. He needed that resurgence and he needed delivered from the vicious circle of this season.

As he lay on his bed looking up at the rafter, he realized that the room had gotten quiet. The dripping had stopped. Thomas looked at the bucket. It was now still and silent. He quickly rose out of his bed to go outside. Sylvester stirred from his sleep.

    “Where you going, kimmie?”

    “Nowhere.”

    “Then why you gettin’ up?”

    Thomas just waves at him to go back to sleep. “You just stay asleep, Sylvester. Your beauty rest hasn’t caught up with your face.”

    Sylvester rolls over muttering to himself. “We cain’ all be pretty boys.”

    Thomas smiles and looks out the door. The setting sun is pushing its way through the angry clouds. Thomas gazes at the freshly drenched fields. It is a thousand different greens. Every plant seems to be bowing under the weight of the water on them.
Thomas sees a small patch of color at the edge of the field. Yellow daisies are pushing themselves through the grass, reaching for one ray of sun and demanding to be seen. As the sun gains its glory back from the clouds, the sunflowers could be seen shaking off the water. They were standing taller by the moment as the water fell from their seed speckled faces. 

    For amber waves of grain could have been written about the Smith’s farm. When the crops were in full growth it was a magnificent sight to witness. The hops, like soldiers, stood tall, awaiting their time to be harvested. 

    Thousands of crimson apples decorated the trees with their striking variations of red.  The young vineyards looked like perfect hair braids across the landscape. It was a cornucopia of crops that adorned the hills.

    “Looks like all our hard work is going to pay off this spring.”

    “Whatcha’ harpin' about?”

    “Oh farmin’ that’s all. You know, Sylvester, every farmer is an artist in his own right for Mother Earth.”

    “Would you mind waxin’ elegant to yourself, Longfellow?” 

    “I’m going to have a farm like this someday.”
   
     Sylvester grunts. “And I’m going to learn how to fart daisy.”
    
    Thomas chuckles. Sylvester is an old coot. As far as anyone knows he’s been single all his life. Farming is all he cared about or maybe a good shot of whiskey. 

    It was true, Thomas did hope someday to have a farm of his own like the Smith’s. He didn’t know how to accomplish it but dreams were free and he had plenty of them. The Smith’s ranch was one of the top producers in the area.  During the busy season the ranch was filled with young, old, brawny, scruffy and leathery ranch hands.  At the end of each season it was hard to tell who smelled worse, the cattle or the ranch hands. 

    Suddenly a large bolt of lightning strikes close to the bunk house. Then it is followed by an earth shattering clap of thunder. The torrents of rain immediately start up again.
“Satisfied, kimmie? Now all your chatter has woked up the Good Lord. Sure sounds like we’re in for another log lifter."

     Thomas continues looking out the door toward the main farm house.  “I’m sure it was your snoring.” 

    Thomas sees Alice and her mother cooking in the kitchen. The smell is intoxicating. Sylvester notices that Thomas is watching Alice from the distance.

    “I ain’t ‘stitious, kimmie, but I’m sure it ain’t good luck to be gawking at the owner’s daughter all the time.”

    “I’m just wondering what they’re cookin’ up.”

    Sylvester just grunts in disbelief and rolls over. “Sure you are.”

    Thomas takes one last look and as he does Alice glances out the window. She smiles and waves. Thomas smiles and waves back awkwardly.  He closes the door slowly and lays back down on his bunk. He was glad that there was contact again after what he’d seen at the dance. 

    “Sometimes, Sylvester, you just have to enjoy the beauty of everything around you.”

    “Well, I guess that’s why the Good Lord gave you me.”

    “Maybe so, Sylvester, maybe so.”

    The clinking of the tin begins again and soon Thomas lays there in thought. He is still in the glow of Alice’s smile. 

    Alice turns from the window to her mother. “Do you think that we could make apple fritters for the help?”

    “Is that somebody’s favorite?”

    “Well, I hear them talkin’ about food all the time. They’re hard working and it’s nice to fix them something nice, especially since the weather has been so harsh.”

    “I think we can do that. We have plenty of apples from the harvest. You go to the cellar and get a sack full and we’ll make some fritters. I sure wish your daddy build me an apple dryer. We could store two times more apples.” 

    Alice is excited. “Thank you, mama.” She runs off to the cellar.

    “Don’t get any green ones, they’re too tart.”

    The morning arrives without a cloud in the sky. The drearies are clear of any milky and even a bird can be heard singing. Singing until Mary begins the morning ritual of ringing the dinner bell as loud as possible. Mary can get a sound out of the bell that no one else can. 

    A shard of light cuts into the bunkhouse, it's aimed right at Thomas. Thomas is suddenly wide awake. Sylvester grumbles, 

    “The way she rings that thing you can never be sure if it’s a meal or if the whole dang ranch is on fire.”   

     Soon the men are up and ready for a fine meal and an honest day’s work. The sleepy farm hands find their way to the eating area and begin to do battle for the first cup of coffee and a fresh baked apple fritter.

    Alice sets a second round of hot fritters and coffee on the table. “Thank you, these are delicious, Alice.” Thomas smiles.

    “Why thank you, Thomas. My mama and I thought all you men deserved a treat. We weren’t sure that we could wake you hibernating bears up after that dreadful rain with oatmeal.”  Thomas takes another bite and smiles.

    Bayless bangs on the side of his coffee cup with a knife to get everyone’s attention.  
    “I trust all you got plenty of rest these past few days. We have a break in the weather and the ground has softened so it’s a good time to lay down a few more crops and repair some posts.” 

    Then he started to say what he always says, “We gotta make hay while the sun shines. But as you know, we aren’t cutting hay today; it’s got to dry first.”  He was right, you could guarantee that when it rained on cut hay it was no longer good for selling. 

    Several of the young men from town had hired on during this time of year to get the crops picked. This day was turning out to be a scorcher. Old Sol was directly overhead beating down on everyone in the field. Not one cool breath of air stirred. Had the workers been made of wax they would have melted by now. It seems that the Anderson Valley was suddenly in the middle of an out of season heat wave. The men working in the field had their bandanas and hats on to ward off sun stroke and to catch the sweat of their brow. 

    The sun was sizzling the skin on Thomas’ already tan back. He is slight of build but muscular. It was easy to see why the girls were smitten with him. His physique combined with his hard work and his gentle nature, made Thomas a young man that anyone would be proud to know or call their beau.  Thomas glistened with sweat as he rolled bales of hay and stacked them. 

    “Making hay while the sun shines, Thomas?” yells Jeb.  Jeb was a hard worker but was always in and out of trouble. 

    “Yep.”

    Jeb continued to jib Thomas, “I know someone else that was making hay while the moon shined.”

    Thomas could feel the blood rush into his face.

    “You hear me, Thomas?”

    “Yep.”

    “Ain’t you curious?”

    “Nope.”

    “It was Mason and Alice.”

    Thomas is stoic. He gives no response.

    “I know that gits ya, ‘cause you like that girl.”

    “She’s a nice girl and I don’t believe what you’re saying about her.”

    “You haven’t got the chance of a fart in a whirlwind with her. Mason says that he’s the one that’s gonna marry her.”

    Thomas puts down his tools and looks at Jeb. The veins in his face and neck are about to burst but he holds his composure. The other young men stop their work and watch what they think is going to be a fight. Thomas holds the hay hook clenched in his hand. 

    “What did Alice say about this?”

    Jeb looks at the hay hook and then at Thomas. 

    “She didn’t say yes and she didn’t say no.”

    “Listen Jeb, don’t mess with me. Did Mason ask her to marry him?”

    Jeb thinks for a moment. “No, but Mason says that he’s thinking about it.”

    “You need to know the difference between asking and thinking, and about thinking and doing and about someone else havin’ a say in it, Jeb.”

    Thomas takes the hay hook and drives it into a bale of hay with force and walks off.  Jeb yells after him,

    “You don’t have a chance, Mason gets what he wants.”

    Thomas storms into the barn. He sits down on a bale of hay and just thinks and broods. He dips some water from a bucket and pours it over his head to cool himself down.
Mason has been a thorn in his side since the day he met him. He’s spent this entire young life protecting Alice from Mason. It is just too much for him to believe that Alice would even entertain an offer of marriage from Mason. 

    Then his insecurities reminded him that he didn’t have much to offer a young woman that came from a family that was comfortable financially. He didn’t even have a family to offer her. What did he have to offer but his love and a promise to work hard? Being with him might mean a hard life for her, too. He knew that love can’t buy a roof over your head or food on the table. Thomas leaned his head against the stall. He could feel himself slipping into a deep despair. 

    He rallies himself because he knows that he has a job to finish and this kind of thinking wasn’t going to help matters. He gets up and returns to the field. He was smart enough to know that hard work would settle his nerves.  When he returned he just worked as if nothing had happened.  

    None of the men said anything to each other the rest of the day. He buried his fears and thoughts back into the bales of hay. As he worked late into the afternoon, he was reminded of a saying his mother used to say when she was upset, “All my ills my garden spade can heal.” Thomas hoped that it worked for him. He knew who he was and what he wanted but would that be enough to offer Alice. He had to ask himself, “Do I love her enough to not ask her to marry me?”

    If he was to win her heart he would have to remind himself daily of what every farmer knew. They knew that you have to be willing to start with the small things.  Every plant starts with one small seed. But the nagging chatter in his head was “Would that be enough for Alice?”

    The end of the day was a welcome time for the workers. They could hear Mary ringing all the sound out of the dinner bell. Thomas was looking forward to a great meal and a good night’s sleep.  But deep in his heart he was looking forward to seeing Alice, even if it was for a second. 

    One by one the workers rode in and took their place at the long tables. Thomas was seated and looking around but he didn’t see Alice anywhere. Sylvester, ripe with the stink of a hard day’s work on him sits down next to Thomas.

    “Whatcha deekin for?”

    “Nothing.” 

    “The question was rhetorical.”

    “Well, that’s a fancy word comin’ from a crusty ‘ol farm hand.”

    “Maybe I wasn’t always a farm hand.”

    Thomas takes a warm bun from under the warming towel.

    “What did you used to be?”

    “Taint important what I used to be.”

    The two men sit in silence as they start their meal. After a few moments Sylvester breaks his silence.

    “She ain’t here. I heard tell that she visitin’ her friend Beth.”

    “I wasn’t lookin…”  Sylvester interrupts him.

    “Save your breath, I know you’re stook on her (stuck on). I heard what happened today.”

    “Wasn’t nothing but Jeb harpin’ and tryin’ to get my hair up.”

    “You listen to me good, boy. You’ve taking a fancy to somethin’ that’s not in yours to want. So every chance that bunch has, they’re comin’ after ya.”

    “I ain’t afraid of them.”

    “Then you’re just stupid. Virgil, Jeb and Mason, they got no soul. They all about themselves, you understand. There’s no one that stands up to them… no one.”

    “What are you saying?”

    “I jest don’t want you to…” 

    “To what…?” 

    Sylvester looks hard into Thomas’ eyes. It was as if Thomas could see into Sylvester’s very soul. This was a broken man with many regrets and bad decisions. In his simple way he was warning and encouraging Thomas at the same time. 

    “Don’t turn into me…You only get two regrets in life, son. The decisions you make and the ones you don’t. Jest know this, it ain’t wrong to want.”

    Thomas sits silent processing what Sylvester has just said. He takes a few thoughtful bites from his meal then looks over at Sylvester. This hardened old man has a small tear that has gotten stuck in his matted beard. Giving this much information about himself had been hard and it conjured up some long forgotten and dark regrets of his own.

“Thank you for that, Sylvester.”

Slow Lope'n A Beeson Tree 
A Nice Long Ride On A Horse

    The splendor of the Anderson Valley countryside was very relaxing to Beth and Alice as they rode along on their horses. They finally had time to talk, muse and brood over the event of the dance. 

    The morning milky had burned off from the peaks of the drearies and you could see how green they were. The fields were filled with enough sunflowers blooming to make Old Sol jealous. Every tree, flower or weed was in full bloom. It looked to be a beautiful spring. 

    “How’d you get away from your chores today, Alice?”

    “Well, it seems that my daddy got it into his head to build some new fangled thing called a bathroom. He’s gonna build it right off the kitchen.” 

    “Is that sanitary?”

    “Well, it’s not really in the house. Him and my momma saw one of these on a trip. He’s been talking about building one and he decided that today was the day to build it. 

    “I wonder what it will look like.”

    “I have no idea. He was all excited and was trying to explain it to my momma and all she would say is, they’d better not put it anywhere near my garden.”

    Beth laughs “She loves her garden.”

    “Anyway, she said that she was going to town to go shopping and I could come over to see you. Truth be told, she knows that she’d worry the whole time they were working on it and would be harpin’ at my daddy. She wanted him to build her an apple dryer and he was arguing that a place to soak his ‘weary’ bones was better. This is more fun anyway.”

 
                
                                    (miniture of a real Boonville Apple Dryer)  

    “He buildin’ it alone?”

    “No, Thomas and Sylvester are going to help him.”

    The smile leaves her face. If only she could get rid of this rain cloud over her head about Thomas and the dance.

    “Beth, I need to talk to Thomas.”

    “Maybe you do and maybe you don’t.”

    “What do you mean?”

    “Well, he’s not expressed his intentions yet. Those are all wishes in your mind.”

    “True.”

    “Until you know his real feeling you don’t have anything to respond to. I mean after all, you are not his girlfriend or Mason’s for that matter.”

    “You bite your tongue, Beth.” Alice laughs.

    “It’s good to see you laugh, oh, oh you want to hear something funny?”

    “Sure.”

    “Last night at the dance Jeb asked me to be his girl. But he said it really funny. He used that crazy Boontlin’.”

    “What’d he say?” 

    “He asked me if I’d be his applehead. Is that the funniest thing? Apparently that is the word the boys decided to call their girlfriends.”

    Alice sucks in her cheeks like a shrunken head.  “Is this what we look like to them?”
The girls laugh and the horses whinny at the girls. It’s almost as if they are laughing with them. 

    “I hope they aren’t kissing all the gannos in the Gowen orchard for practice!” Both of the girls roar with laughter until tears run down their face. Alice fans herself.

    “My goodness, it feels so good to laugh. I am taking things too seriously.”

    “Amen.”

    “You’re right. He hasn’t even expressed his intentions. You’re right, I’ve been putting words I want him to say in my own head and then telling myself he said it or at least, that he wants to say them!” She thinks for a moment. “I am a silly, almost applehead! The girls laugh some more.

    “Oh, oh my ribs, I can’t laugh anymore.”

    “Okay, hey we’re right by the river, let’s stop here and have some of the good food my mom packed us. It’ll let the horses rest a bit, too.” Alice says.

    The girls stop and dismount. They open the bags on the side of the horses and take out the items. Beth spreads the red checkered table cloth on the ground as Alice unloads the lunch. 

    “This all looks so good,” Beth says as she licks her lips. “Your mom is such a good cook.”

    “Thank you, I think so too.”

    Soon the tablecloth was filled with delectable items festooned on the tablecloth that would rival a king’s banquet table. There was Old Sol Cake. It was made with 10 Easters and a teaspoon of orange extract. It was so light and fluffy it almost dissolved in the air. There were fresh picked apples, peaches, berries, raisins and nuts mixed together. Salted cheese and beef jerky. There was a loaf of fresh baked potato bread lightly dusted with powdered sugar. There was barbequed chicken, corn, churned butter that was melting faster than the girls could spread it on the bread. Mary had outdone herself.

    “I hope my stomach is bigger than my eyes because I am going to make this all disappear,” Beth said. 

    After eating they were so full that all they could do is lay on their backs on the ground and talk. The girls giggled and talked for what seemed like hours. 

    “I’m surely going to die from eating all this food,” Beth moaned.

    “You’d better hope you live until Sunday so you can repent for your gluttony!” 

    Beth laughs and then immediately moans. The girls go silent as they stare at the cloud formation and listen to the water slowly trickle over the rocks in the river. It seemed like forever before either of them said anything. Then Alice spoke up.

    “I’m so ready to have a home and start a family.”

    “Me, too. Having babies and cooking for my husband is my dream. I hope I have a dozen kids.”

    “You going to marry the stork?” The girls laugh again.

    “Maybe Jeb,” Beth whispers.

    Alice can’t believe her ears. Jeb was almost as bad as Mason, he was always in trouble or causing trouble.

    “Why Jeb?”

    “He’s cute.”

    “Is this because he asked you to be his applehead? We have a lot of dances still to go to. You could be an entire orchard of appleheads before you meet the right man. And anyway, cute doesn’t make up for how rotten he is!” Alice is getting revved up over this.

    “What are you so mad about?” asked Beth.

    “It… it’s just that we’re best friends and I always thought that our husbands would be, too. And then our children... You know what I mean?”

    “Alice, have you counted the eligible bachelors in this town? Half of them are related and the other half are… well, let’s just say they’re a bit odd.” Alice is stumped for a moment. Beth speaks up.

    “I’m not a math expert, Alice. I just know that there’s not that many to choose from and besides I sort of like him. I can tame his wild ways.” 

    Alice rolls her eyes. “You like him for the very reasons I can’t stand Mason.” 

    The girls realize they have reached an impassable part of the debate. Alice stares down Beth and Beth refuses to blink as long as Alice is staring at her. Simultaneously they say, “I’m not going to blink!” Then they both hold their breath to not blink but not for long. Alice breaks the silence.

    “Did Jeb ask you to marry him?”

    “No, did Mason ask you to marry him?”

    “No.”

    Beth blinks, “Did Thomas ask you to marry him?”

    “No.”

    “Then what are we fighting about? We don’t even have a decision to make except for…”

    “For what?”

    “Except for the last piece of the Old Sol cake.” Alice looks at it and so does Beth. Alice smiles, “Let’s share it.”

    The argument was as quickly behind them as it started. They shared the last slice of the Old Sol cake and talked some more about boys.

    The day was coming quickly to an end and they knew that they needed to head back to their respective homes, so the girls packed up their belongings. After they’d ridden awhile they came to the divide in the road that lead to each of their homes.  Alice hugs Beth good-bye.

    “That was fun. I guess we are growing up and are going to have different opinions about things.”

    “I know, funny thing Alice, I always thought we’d see things the same way, too.” 

    “Yes… but then if we both did the same thing we would be married to the same man and that just wouldn’t work.” The girls laugh. They both got the point. 

    Alice looks at the rock covered dirt road. “I guess this road is sort of like you and me. We both have homes and families but there are different roads that take us there.”

    “Well said, my friend. But did you notice there are no locked fences to our homes. We are both free to come over to each other’s home.”

    Alice looks at the storm clouds beginning to blow over the hills. “Looks like it's going to rain. We'd better hurry. It looks like it's going start raining before we get home.”

    The girls reach from their horses and hug each other good-bye again.

    At the Smith ranch the men had been hard at work building the framing for the bathroom just off the kitchen. It wasn’t a big room but it was large enough for the tub and to dry yourself off. There was no plumbing, of course. They had built a door from the kitchen that opened into the bathroom so that it would be convenient to carry the large black cast iron pots full of boiled water from the kitchen to the tub. 

    “It’s a mighty fine addition, Mr. Smith.”

    “Thank you son, I couldn’t have done it without qou and Sylvaster’s help.”

    Sylvester grumbles, “Don’t know what you need it for. We’re only about a half mile from the river. Works fine for me.”

    Thomas looks at Mr. Smith. They both know that Sylvester only visits the river in the spring and a couple of times in the summer.

    “Well, Sylvester, I ain’t much on long walks naked or wet, but I thank ya for helping me.”

    Bayless is always the master of diplomacy. He was a rare man for his time. He wasn’t a rough man but he was a good man and apparently he liked to be clean.

    “Well, you ready to get the tub in here?” 

    The men head toward the barn to get the tub. Sylvester muttering about the nonsense of having a tub in the house.

    “It jest don’t make sense but you rich folks do crazy things.”

    As the barn door opens and the light fills the barn, there it was. A large tub made of wooden boards, shined and shellacked. Not a splinter or a rough spot on it. The interior of the tub was lined with tin. Sylvester and Thomas are impressed. Bayless had built it by hand himself and he was rather proud of it.

    “Why, this is finer than any buggy I’ve ever seen in town, Sir.”

    Bayless pats it,    “Yes, she is.”

    Sylvester rubs his hand inside the tub on the smooth tin. “Where’d ya get the shinny tin?”

    “They’re from the five gallon cans of coal oil we use for the lamps. We had a mess of them.”

    Sylvester ponders the nicely made tub and then asks, “You got any tin left?”

    “We have a few, but I’ll betcha a bucky that Floyd Hutsell has a passel of them. Whatcha got in mind?”

    Sylvester grins, “I’m thinkin’ you rich folks need to have cleaner ranch hands.”
 

 

The Weeheese and A Lockin’
The Children’s School and a Wedding

                

   

 The *weeheese (school house) where Alice and the other children of the region attended school was a one room building. There were several one room schools built throughout the valley for the purpose of teaching. After the settlers came to an area and established that they were going to live there, they had two buildings that were put on the front line. They needed a *skype region (church) and they needed a *heese (school) for the tweeds (children).

    The *heese teach or sometimes called *schoolch (teacher) sat at the head of the room between the children and in front of the chalkboard. The teacher for Alice’s class was very young and engaged to be *locked (married). This was an exciting time with a new *ot (job) and soon she’d have a new husband. Miss Sims in the fall would become Mrs. Cedars. It wasn’t settled how long she would teach once she was married but right now she was thrilled with these two new adventures in her life., the children would call her Mrs. New, behind her back, because ever since she got engaged they would hear her saying to her friends,

        “I have a new job teaching, I’m newly engaged, and I’m going to be a new wife with a new husband.”

    The new part of the conversation confused little Mattie, the youngest student, so she asked,

        “If you are getting a new husband what did you do with the old one?”

    All the tweeds (children) laughed and Miss Sims became very embarrassed.

    Mattie brushed her golden ringlets from her face and stood starring at the schoolch waiting for an answer. You could always count on Mattie to ask a cute question and the question always sounded even sweeter because of her little, tiny voice. Mrs. Cedar explained to Mattie the best that she could what she meant. But still from time to time, she would slip and used the word new when talking about her fiancé.

    There was no division of grades; all the tweeds of various ages attended the school. The younger ones learned many of their lessons from the older tweeds. However, the hours were kept short because most of the tweeds were needed to help with the farming or with the house chores such as canning and pickling, cleaning, etc. The list of things to do really never ended.

        “Idle hands are the devils tools.”

    These were common words that came out of the mouths of the mothers and grandmothers. They fully believed that if you had nothing to do, you’d get in trouble.

    Each morning all the tweeds entered the vestibule and took off their coats and hung them on the hooks. There were benches on either side where they sat and took off their galoshes when it was a rainy day. One side was for the boys and the other for the girls. They would then store the lunches that they had brought from home under the benches.

    All the desks were in rows and connected. There was a shelf underneath the desk top for their books.  The older children got inkwells and a pen. With the class being a mixture of all ages, the younger children were able to learn from the others’ lessons also.  Mason always tried to get the seat closest to Alice, but usually her girlfriends sat on either side.

    If a boy was sweet on a girl he’d catch up with her on the way to the weehees and ask to carry her books. Alice rarely carried her own books to school. It was the same books each day but a different boy.

    Each day different boys took turns bringing the wood from home for the wood stove at the school. The black, potbelly stove was located in the middle of the classroom and it was always hungry for wood.

    One particularly warm afternoon the children were all out in the schoolyard playing. Some of the boys were playing baseball. The girls were for the most part not interested in that game. It was far too physical and none of them wanted to get all dirty or sweaty in their pretty dresses.

    At the edge of the field there were large rocks almost like boulders. One rock was about 20 feet high. It had split in two and a large tree had grown out of it.  The tree was so hefty that it could hold several of the children on its limbs. The girls would crawl through the crack and climb up the rock to the tree. They always took water so they’d have something to drink.  Most of the time they brought their books and there they would sit and do their lessons. But the conversation quickly would turn to talk about the boys.

    Alice and Beth were sitting high in the tree one afternoon chatting when another group of their friends came over to join them. When the girls crawled into the crevice of the rocks to get up the tree they were greeted by two rattlesnakes that were shaking their rattlers wildly. The girls began screaming. Alice and Beth were already in the tree and the others were at the bottom. The girls could see what was happening but couldn’t escape from the tree, it wouldn’t be safe. They yelled to the others,

        “Run, Run!!” 

    The girls at the bottom ran but the smallest girl Mattie was struck by one of the rattlesnakes. She screamed and fell to the ground.

        “Get help, Mattie has been struck by a *blue tail! Get help!! Rattlers! Rattlers!!

    The groundskeeper came running with his gun to the rocks. He cleared the rest of the girls away and began looking for the rattlers. The teacher quickly scooped up the injured girl and put her in the wagon and took off for the doctor.

    He yelled up to the girls.

        “You girls stay put. You are safe up there. I need to find these rattlers and kill them.”

    The girls were terrified and shaking. The boys stopped playing baseball and ran to where the girls were. Several of them were asking,

         “What’s going on?”

        “What happened to Mattie?”

    The groundskeeper never took his eyes off the rocks when answering them.

        “Mattie got struck by a blue tail.”

        “Is she going to be okay?”

    The groundskeeper explained everything to them while keeping an eye out for the rattlesnakes.

        “It was Mattie. The schoolch rushed her to the *Shoveltooth (doctor). You youngin’s stay back!”

    He spotted one of the deadly rattlers. He took aim and killed it. The boys yelled and the girls screamed.

        “Watch yer step boys, the other one is around here somewhere.”

    The groundskeeper lit a branch on fire and threw it into the crevice hoping to smoke out the other snake. It works. He quickly drew his gun, fired and killed the second rattlesnake.

        “That’s the last you’ll see of those two blue tails.”

    Mason quickly pulls out his knife and cuts one of the snakes’ heads off. He pokes his knife into the eye and holds it up to Alice.

        “You want me to make a necklace out of this for you?”

    Alice begins to weep. She was so frightened and so scared for Mattie. She turns to Beth.

        “Oh Beth, Mattie, she’s so little, dear Lord help her.”

    Alice is horribly shaken by this event as were all the tweeds .  Their safe area had been invaded and it was deadly. This was a reality that was too soon and too much for this innocent group of children. Thomas runs over to Alice and helps her out of the tree.  The groundskeeper takes the knife from Mason and shakes off the dead snake. He looks at Mason and under his breath he says.

        “You go *tee’l (to hell).”

        “You can’t *harp (talk) at me that way.”

        “I didn’t say nuthin. But I’ll tell you what, yer mama and papa need to give you a good *ear-settin’ (reprimand or scolding) for yer behavior. Now get out of my way.”

    Then he turns to the rest of the children.

        “You children pike (walk) on home for now and watch yer steps. This is *blue tail (rattlesnake) season and I didn’t kill the only two blue tails in the region.”

    Thomas quietly escorted Alice home. They both kept a watchful eye for blue tails  as they walked home. Alice was mighty *somerset (upset) and wept most of the way home. Thomas ushered up some words of comfort to her. 

        “I’m glad you’re alright. I would feel terrible if anything ever happened to you. I remember my mama needed to cry it out sometimes so she could get over things. So I reckon that cryin’ a good thing.”

    And then he was quiet. He was good that way. If he didn’t know what to say he would just listen or be there for comfort.    

    The next day at school the teacher gather the children to tell them the sad news.

        “Mattie passed away on the way to the doctors.”

    She catches herself because she was starting to cry.

        “It’s alright to cry Miss Sims.” Alice says softly.

    The room sits silent for about five minutes while Miss Sims composes herself. The children’s hearts were also broken when they heard the news. They all cried and asked if they could say prayers for her.

        “Yes, children, it would make us all feel better.”

    One by one the children bowed their heads and each took turns saying a prayer for Mattie.

        “Dear Jesus, please take care of Mattie.”

        “God, please let there be pink flowers in heaven for Mattie. She loved pink flowers.”

        “Lord, please make sure that all snakes go to tee’l (Hades).”

    Snickers and sniffing could be heard in the room.

        “Okay children.” Miss Sims said with a catch in her throat. “Let’s say the 23rd Psalm.”

    In unison the class quoted the passage.

        “The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever. Amen.”

         “God bless you little Mattie.” Miss Sims concluded.

    Later that day the children watched from the windows as the groundskeeper roped off the area around the tree. The children were not allowed to play there ever again.

    Mattie’s parents came a few weeks later to the school and brought a placard and a picture of Mattie. The young parents looked so tired and worn from the experience. Mattie’s father spoke.

        “We’d like you to have this picture and placard to place in the school room. We’d like the children to have something to remember Mattie by.”

    The teacher took the items and mounted them on the wall. The children and Miss Sims had another good cry with the parents. 

    The early years in the new region were grueling to the body and the soul. The land could be so good and fruitful and yet so unforgiving. These were also torturous years for Thomas. He was so sad that Mattie had died. It conjured up the memories of losing his parents.  But in his guilty heart he was so thankful that Alice was still alive. He continued to sit by patiently for the ensuing years as one young man after another sought her attention. He didn’t like it but he didn’t care because he was so thankful that she was alive.

    The most agitating of all the suitors was Mason. He never accepted that Alice didn’t want him and he never stopped pursuing her. No one could stop Mason and his advances. But common decency prevailed and he kept a civil distance when ordered by Alice.

    Alice always looked at Thomas as the constant in her life. He had proven to be quite a good friend. She felt safe whenever he was around. He was always a faithful ear whenever she wanted to talk. He listened to several infatuations that she had. He was more than happy to listen to her because it gave him time with her and insight to who she was. And who she was, was winding herself around his heartstrings. However, shy Thomas kept silent about his feelings.

    School felt different for the rest of the year. Mattie’s dying had a serious effect on many of the children. Several of the children opted not to go outside to play. It was just as well, less worry for everyone. The summer days came to a fast end and winter was in the air.

    Miss Sims had a beautiful winter *lockin’ match (wedding day) and the tweeds from the weeheese  attended as well as dozens for folks from the region and all of the bride and grooms *reals (relatives). Most of the town’s people were there including Bayless and Mary but the Lawsons were noticeably missing.

        “I wonder where the Lawsons are? I talked to Malva last week and she said that they would be here. I guess that have a real nice gift for the couple.”

        “We’ll they missed the boring part but the *gorms (food) is good.

        “Bayless!”

        “What did we get them?”

        “We gave them money.

         "*HIGS!"

         "Sush! They’ll need it to relocate and get set up. These young ones need all the help they can get.”

        “How much *higs?”

        “What you told me to spend.”

        “What’d I tell you to spend?”

        “I declare, Bayless, you don’t seem to remember any conversations that we have.”

        “I’m going to remember this one, it cost me *higs.”

    Mary looks perplexed at Bayless.

        “I’m just *sharkin’ (kidding) you, mama. I remember what I said.”

    Mary pokes at him for getting to her.

        “You just never stop with your little jokes, now do you?”

    Bayless gives her a peck on the cheek.

        “I’m always trying to get you mad so we can kiss and make up.”

    Mary gives him a peck on the cheek back.

        “Would you like to dance, Mary?”

        “That would be wonderful.”

        “It’s not a *bahl *tidric (good party) without a few *bahl *hobs (good dances).”

    There was *hobbin’ (dancing) and lots of food. Some of the men had drank some *skee (whiskey) before they came but they still minded their manners.  But no matter there was plenty *horns of *zeese (cups of coffee) to sober them up.

    Miss. Edna had baked the *lockin’ cake. She was the one that everyone in town went to for their *lockin’ cake. Her cakes were the best around. The funny thing was she was a *codgy (old) and grumpy old maid. Never had been married and didn’t want to be. She’d always say,

        “I don’t need no man in my house messin’ things up, wanting me to cook *gorms for him and share my bed! Nope, not me, not one twit do I want to get *locked.”

    An yet she was the official *lockin’ cake maker. The cakes always looked beautiful but Miss Edna always had to add how hard it was to make.

        “That cake took me seven hours to make. Let alone the hauling it over here.” She complained to her friend Ruth.

        “Seven hours? You must be exhausted.”

        “Got my back out of wack and the house was so hot I had to cook in my underwear.”

        “Oh dear, you didn’t tell the bride that did you?”

        “What do you take me for? Of course not.”

        “Oh good.”

        “I had to chase the hens down for their *Easters (eggs). I use six of them for the whites, ya know. Then I churned the butter till it was perfect. *Piked (walked) out to the barn and got some fresh *charl (milk)  from the *brodie (cow). She always complains cause my hands are cold. Then I put all the rest of the ingredients together. It’s hard *ot (work). Like’ta killed me.”

        “Why on earth do you do it?”

        “I do it out of the goodness of my heart. It’s usually that last *bal *gorms (good food) the groom will get for awhile.”

    At a certain point of the evening the beautiful bride Miss Sims now Mrs. Cedar took the children aside and told them that she wouldn’t be returning as their teacher. Mr. Cedar had taken a job in San Francisco and they would be moving there in the spring. The children all cried but knew from the death of Mattie that nothing was forever. They hugged her and wished her well. Alice and Beth stayed back after most of the children had left. Alice asked,

        “Mrs. Cedar, will you write us?”

        “Oh yes, please do” begged Beth.

    Mrs. Cedar was touched that the girls wanted to stay in contact.

        “I will, I promise.”

        “We’ll be watching for the mail every day!” chirped Beth.

        “That’s right! We have a new postal office in town now.” chimes in Alice.

        “Well, give it a little time after I leave. I have to move, get settled and most importantly I have a honeymoon to get to.”

    Mrs. Cedar hugged the girls and then returned to the arm of her new husband. The girl watch them for quite some time. They are in a dreamy state. They start talking about the day that they’ll get locked.

                         
                                         (Picture of 1800s bride and groom)      

        “Alice, I think I have seen her dress in the catalogue. They have so many beautiful lacy lockin’ dresses in the catalogue.”

        “Look how much they’re in love.”

    Alice sighs,

        “Lockin’s are such fun.”

        “They say once your locked everything in life is perfect.”

        “I know, but just incase they're wrong I've saved all the four-leaf clovers I've found my entire life.”

        “Alice, when I get married I’m going to have a dress just like Mrs Cedar.”

        “Me too…”

    Alice catches what she said. She realizing that she wouldn’t want the same dress.

        “I mean, yes, but different. Oh, you know what I mean”

    The girls laugh. It was good to laugh again.

    Thomas often sat and thought about life and how fleeting it seemed to be. He thought about the people he’s known that had died. How he wished he could talk to them, spend time with them and just feel the touch of his parents once again. He thought about the winter and how the leaves change colors and then they’d let go and dropped to the ground. But when they dropped he noticed that they weren’t finished yet. With every step of someone’s foot the leaves made their presence known without saying a word. And then he realized that those that had passed still made sounds in his memories. So when he paused and thought about them, for that moment in time, they were with him once again.

           

BOONTLING words used in the story.

Bahl:                                                                       Good or also good looking

Blue tail:                                                                Rattlesnake

Brodie or Broadey:                                                         Cow

The name came because of the broad horns.

Charl:                                                                     Milk

This is a sound word. Early Boonters said this was the sound of milking a cow and the milk hitting the can.

Codgy, Codgyhood, Ridgy:                                        Old or decrepit

Ear-settin', routin' or set'n ear:                             Reprimand / Scolding

Easters:                                                                                  Eggs

Harp:                                                                      Talk

Heese teach, schoolch or skoolch:                      School teacher: School teacher

Higs:                                                                        Money

The original term was HOG DOLLAR which was also a SILVER DOLLAR.

Hob or Hobbin:                                                                 Dance or Dancing

Hobs:                                                                                         Shoes

Makes sense since you dance with your feet!

Gorms:                                                                                    Food

Horn:                                                                                          Cup or Drink

In the early days animal horns were used to hold drinks. This word refers to any drinking
item, cup etc

Locked or Lock:                                                            Marry or get married

Lockin' Match:                                                                    Wedding day

Lockin' Dress:                                                        Wedding dress

Ot or Otto:                                                             Work or hard work
    The term was started because there were so many immigrant workers named OTTO that the name became just the same as the word work.

Pike or Piked:                                                                    Walk, travel or walked

Reals:                                                                                       The Relatives

Shoveltooth:                                                                    Doctor
This is a name for any Doctor. The first doctor of region had prominent, projecting teeth.

Skee:                                                                      Whiskey

Skype Region, Skipe Region, Kingster:           Church

Somerset or somersault:                                             Turbulent, Upset
    also: Over-emotional or Sentimental:    Somersetting

Tee'l:                                                                                     
    As in, "Go to hell."

Tidric or Ticrick:                                                  Party or tea party

This is a group activity or gathering. Possibly from a combination of "Tea drink."

Trick or Joke:                                                       Shark or Sharkin'

Tweed:                                                                                     Teen, Child, Son

Weeheese, Wee Heese, Weehese, The Heese:

                                                                                                       High School Or

                                                                                                        Elementary School for children

Zeese:                                                                                            Coffee

The name came from Z.C. "Zeese" Blivans. He made coffee that was so strong you could float an egg on it. The man made strong coffee.

                                                                           This Kimmy Thomas
                                                                         This Young Man Thomas

    

    A man about 45 rides up quickly to the Smith’s farm. His face is dirty from the road and red from the ride. He has a message and it seemed to be urgent. You could tell from his demeanor and speech that he was a bit *chuckish (mentally slow). Most of the farm hands run to see what he’s there for. He starts shouting at the men. Bayless greets him.

        “Melvin, what’s all the shouting about?”

        “The wolves *strung (killed) over 50 *croppy (sheep) over at the Lawson’s *region (area) last *neilch (night).”

               
    Bayless tips back his hat and scratches his head.

        “Why, that’s *nonch (no good) nearly 200 croppy in three weeks!”

    The rider doesn’t have any time to spare.

        “You want to join up with us at Lawson’s and hunt these varmints down before they *string (kill) all the *croppies?”

    Bayless turns to his men without hesitation.

        “We gonna get us some wolf, men. I hear tell that several *croppy (sheep) have gone missing at the northern end of the valley region too. Everyone’s *harpin’ (talking) about the dead white spots up on the hills. So we’re going hunting, get yer gear  and your *sikes (horses) ready. We’re leavin’ in about 20 minutes.”

    Thomas is excited to have this chance. He’d never been hunting in his life, he didn’t even own a gun.”

        “Sir, I’d really like to go but I don’t know… I mean I don’t…”

        “What are you worried about boy?”

        “I’ve never shot a gun and I’ve never owned one.”

        “Well, it’s time you learned how to *barl (shoot a gun), don’t you think?”

        “Yes, sir.”

    Bayless pulls one of his best rifles from a sheath on the horse and hands it to Thomas.

        “I can only shoot one at a time. You take this one.”

    Thomas held the beautifully cleaned and well shined rifle in his hands. He couldn’t believe he’d been entrusted with such a fine piece of weaponry.

        “How do I…”

        “Rule #1. Don’t point it at yourself.”

        “Thank you, sir. I’ll take real good care of it.”

        “You just aim that gun at those dang wolves and *barl , barl’em to the *dusties (shoot’em dead). Don’t worry about gettin’ the gun messed up. I’ll teach you how to clean it later. Now go get ready. There’s a *trashmover (rain storm)  coming in and we want to get back home before that happens.”

    Thomas wondered if this was the feeling that he would have had if his own father had taught him to shoot. The past didn’t matter, he was going to have the benefit of this moment because the other moment never happened and it never will.

    Thomas had come from farm people but with his parents dying and leaving him in poverty at such a young age he never experienced the farm life. The young Briggs family had come out west seeking open fields, lots of places to spread out, have a farm, cattle, crops and a nice big family. Ben Briggs had been a farmer all his life but on one visit to the big city for supplies, he met Mable and she stole his heart. It wasn’t long before they married and she gave birth to their son Thomas.

    Mable was petite and very much a city girl. She’d never been known to get a blister even from a new pair of shoes. Her family didn’t want her to go. They wanted her and their only grand-child with them. They’d heard stories of the hardships and the wild Indians that scalped people. They didn’t want any of them to end up like that. They wanted them home, safe and warm in the civilized city. The thought of their daughter ending up as a trophy at the end of a stick belonging to some Indian, was more than they could bear.

    This western life would be completely new to Mabel, but she was in love, the new adventure excited her and she was ready to spread her wings from the city. The romance of it all overcame any reasoning her parents tried to use.

    Mable was in her early 20s when they set out to traveled across the country to Boonville with her husband Ben and their young son Thomas. They’d heard about this land of Eden from letters. Mable was a little nervous when she left because she was 3 months pregnant with their second child, but she loved her husband Ben and believed they’d be in their new home in time for the birth.

    They arrived in the dead of winter to California. The wind was bone chilling and the rain was relentless. The people called a storm of this strength a *“log lifter” and that it was. One thing for sure, the elements were against this young couple. The cold and battered family found a place to stay at the edge of the valley. There was a farm there and the family had an extra room. The climate of the cold northern coast and the rough travel on the road proved to be too much for Mable. She was exhausted from the trip and went into early labor.  She died that first night in Boonville, along with their baby. 
 
    Ben notified Mable parents of her passing. Mable’s mother took sick to her bed and there she stayed until she passed away six months later. At the end of Mable’s small funeral, Ben took his wife’s carved wedding band off and gave it to Thomas to remember her by. Thomas threaded it on his scarf and hung it around his neck. Thomas felt as if his heart had been ripped from his body. He couldn’t catch his breath he was crying so deeply. He couldn’t imagine how life would be without her now.

    Thomas’ father, Ben never got over his guilt for bringing her and his young son across country and away from the security of her family and the city. He found his loss of her unbearable. Hard liquor became his best friend and he died of alcoholism at the age of 30. Thomas was only 11 at the time. He was now an orphan. There was no one to take care of him. The Sheriff took him to a Mormon family who agreed to take care of him. 

    The Mormon family decided that Thomas had been passed around too long and they needed help on their farm so they agreed to keep him. He was taught good work ethics but he was resistant to converting to their religion. They were worried that he might be a bad influence on their children so they informed him that he needed to go out on his own. Thomas was twelve at the time. There was no end of rejection that he’d suffered and yet he kept making a way for himself in the world that had been dealt him. He had mailed several letters to his grandparents but they were eventually returned and  stamped “Deceased.”

    What he didn’t have in money he made up for by being a kind and gentle person. Life had taken his youth, innocence, his family and any dowry that he might have ever received from his next of kin.  His focus had to be on hard work now and for many years to come. He wasn’t going to be afforded the luxuries that other young boys his age had.

    At twelve years of age, with all the belongs he had in the world wrapped up on a rag, he made his way to the Smith farm asking for a job.  Bayless liked the look of this young man. He said,

        “Where’s your parents young man?”

        “They died, sir.”

        “Do you have a place to stay?”

        “No, sir. But I’m willing to work for food and a bed to sleep in.”

    This broke Bayless’ heart. His daughter was only two years younger than this boy and she had all the comforts that their home could give her and this boy had none.

        “I do have room for another good worker. I’ll take you to the bunk house and let the men know that you’re working for me now.”

    Bayless took Thomas under his wing and gave him a place to live in the bunk house. Here on the Smith ranch, he would have shelter, food and once a month some money. A lot of the hired help gave him their tattered but welcomed hand-me-downs.

    He was never one to argue and he took people’s mood swings with a grain of salt. If things got too rough he would just growl and mock the person that was having the fit. That little trick usually got Mrs. Smith out of a bad mood.

    He was a painfully shy young man. He didn’t have much to say but he made up for it with his dependability.  Bayless admired that in this young boy.

        “He is a hard worker, never late to the job, doesn’t complain and never leaves his daily work unfinished.”

    Thomas didn’t escape the glances and interest from Alice. But his insecurities and shyness prevented him from ever starting a conversation with her. He would watch her from afar as she played with her friends. He would rehearse how to start a conversation with her by talking to the animals in the barn. But he didn’t get too far with those conversations either.

    He wondered at at how easy conversation came to other young boys when they  talked to her. He’d hope someday to have clever words to say so that she’d laugh at his witty banter like she did for others. But whenever he would start to talk to her he would be hampered by his inferiority complex and would tell himself, 

        “Why would she be interested in me?”

    His fear was only made larger in his mind when he reminded himself that,

        “She was the boss’s daughter and I’m just a hired hand.”

    Time passed. Thomas kept pretty much to himself and the work at hand. They would exchange a few smiles here and there when they would pass each other. But no deep conversations would ever ignite. 

    Bayless insisted that Thomas go to school and get an education.

        “Hard work is one kind of learnin’ but cracking school books that’s where education doesn’t cost you your back.”

    Thomas went faithfully. Thomas felt honored that Bayless and Mary had poured time and interest into him as a person. Bayless was as close to a father that Thomas was ever going to get. He kept his studies up and made Bayless and Mary proud that they’d invested in him.

    As the time passed he got more and more confident in himself, the skills that he had developed and socially. One day on the way home from school he saw that Mason Lawson was pestering Alice. Alice yelled.

        “Leave me alone, Mason, I’m not going to kiss you now or even if you were the last man on earth!”

        “I think you protest because you like me”

    Mason tries to take her books to carry them.

        “Let go! I can carry my own books,”

        “But I want to carry them for you.”

        “I didn’t ask you to and I don’t want you to!”

    Alice looks around and she sees Thomas.

        “Here comes my friend and he’s going to give you a whippin’ if you don’t leave me alone.”

    Thomas hears what she said. He looks around and but he was the only one standing there.

        “That’s your friend? Mason laughs, 

        “He’s the hired help. Actually, he’s that orphaned boy.”

        “You mind your manners, Mason Lawson. Thomas, come here!”

    Thomas hesitates. Alice pleads with her eyes. He can see she needs his help. He hurries over to her.

        “I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier, I, ah… ah…, Alice.”

    Mason shoves Thomas to the ground. Alice screams at Mason.

        “Get away, Mason. Leave us alone.”

    Thomas realizes that she said US!

    Mason leaves but not without issuing some rough words.
 
        “Someday you’ll be mine, Alice Smith, all mine. You’ll see.”

    Alice reaches down to Thomas to help him up. Her hand touches his. It was a moment frozen in time for Thomas.

        “I’m so sorry, Thomas, I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”

    Thomas stands up and dusts himself off.

        “Aw, it’s alright.”

        “Will you walk with me the rest of the way?”

    Thomas started to hesitate but he quickly realized this is his chance.

        “Sure.”

    Alice willingly hands her books to him. Alice smiles sweetly at Thomas.

        “Thank you.”

    Thomas’ face turned a bright red and stayed that shade for the entire walk home. This was more than he’d hoped in a first time conversation. They developed a wonderful friendship.

    Thomas had always been sweet on Alice but Alice was a tease and very popular. He was content to be her friend and the one who walked her home. There wasn’t a boy in the town that didn’t want Alice to be their girl. But at the end of the day, she was satisfied to walk home with Thomas.

        “Thomas, Thomas.” Bayless call to him.

        “You going with us?”

    Thomas snaps out of his daydream and quickly jumps on one of the farm horses.

        “Yes, sir.”

        “Giddup.” Orders Bayless.

        “We’ve got some *croppy (sheep) to save.”

     Thomas smiled from the inside out. Bayless believed in him and that was the greatest feeling in the world. What Bayless saw in him was so much greater than what he saw in himself. But he was beginning to believe he could do something with his life. 

    Thomas runs quickly to his horse but stops for a moment next to Bayless.

         “Mr. Smith, I just want to say, thank you for all you’ve done for me.

    Thomas runs to his horse, mounts it and is ready to ride. Bayless, pulls his hat down a bit over his eyes and pretends to check the cinch on his horse. What Thomas said was so heartfelt that it brought a tear to his eye.

         “He’s a good boy, a real good boy.”

                                                              

BOONTLING words used in this chapter:

Barl:                                                                Shoot a gun

Chuckish:                                                    Mentally slow or dull witted

Croppy, Croppie, Breggo:                 Sheep    

Dusties:                                                         Graveyard, Cemetery or people in the grave

Harpin:                                                          Talking

Log Lifter:                                                     Really bad storm

Neilch:                                                             Night

Nonch:                                                             Not good

Region:                                                             Area, Area of land

Trashmover:                                                A storm, bad but not as bad as a log lifter.

Sikes, Sykes, Fuzz Tail:                        Horse

Strung:                                                           Killed

String:                                                             Kill

            

    

                     

                                                         The Hob
                                                                     The Dance

                            

 

    Marva is alone in her home. A gloom had set into Marva that she couldn't shake. Her arms are folded and her head is looking down as she paces in her living room. The unfinished bake goods from earlier lay spoiling in the kitchen on the counter. She looks very unsettled. She doesn’t know what to do about Mason. There was nothing in her mind that could console her. It would be hours before her husband James returns from a business trip and she was nearing emotional collapse. She was fearful of Mason coming back before James got home. Mason, her only son, she’d wanted so much to have a child and now he had become someone that she didn’t understand nor wanted around her. She feels that she is in complete jeopardy.

        “Dear Lord, don’t shut heaven’s doors to me today. I need your help more than I ever have. I haven’t been a faithful church goer but I’m a good person. I always thought I’d taught Mason right from wrong. But today… well today Lord…I saw evil in him. Pure evil… If he had stuck me Lord, I believe he’d have no remorse.

    She cries. 

         “Today, I question everything I’ve ever done for him.”

    The culmination of all Marva’s fears beleaguer her this day and she is overwhelmed. Marva sits down on the piano stool and begins to play softly. As she played the music sooths her and her demeanor seems to lighten a tad bit. However, her face, still wet with tears ,could not deny the tumult that was brewing inside her. It is the first time as a mother that she felt remorse for having a child.

        “God, forgive me for saying this, but if my son is going to be the kind of man that puts pain on others, I wish he’d never been born. I know that’s not good mother talk, but if I can’t be honest with You then I have no place to turn.”

    Marva puts her head down on the piano and weeps deeply.

    In town Alice could hardly contain herself. The day at the circus had been exhilarating and exhausting at the same time. So many people had come to Boonville for the circus and the dance that the town was bursting with excitement. The sound of crunching rocks under the carriages’ wheels, had been a steady sound throughout the day. Now that the sun had begun to set the mood was starting to change. The focus was now off of food and the circus. Now, people were dressing up for the festivities and getting ready to do some *hobbin’ (Dancing).

    The band was setting up. The instruments could be heard tuning-up. Guitars, banjos and fiddles were being lifted and tuned for an spirit-lifting night of music. Once everything was ready then like a charm, there was going to be some *bahl (good) music.

    The low rumble of people chatting as they walk in the direction of the apple barn for the *hob (dance), cause Alice to strain her ears to hear every word. But the clippety-clop of the *Sikes (horses) on the gravelly street mixed sounds with the passerby’s conversation making it difficult to hear anything. One thing for sure, the pounding of the horse’s hooves on the ground matches the beating of Alice’s heart.

    Alice tries feverishly to get her parents to hurry up and get ready to leave. If she could she’d be shoving them out of the hotel room door clothed or not.

         “Hurry, hurry, it’s starting. I can hear the music from the band.”

         “You can hear the music?” Her father asked.

         “Yes dear, she’s not deaf, her ears are young.”

    Bayless mutters “I don’t hear anything.”

        “It doesn’t make it not so dear.”

    Alice pleads.

         “Mama, Papa…please.”

    Bayless grins.

        “Well, she’s polite, mama. Alice, dear, I don’t think they’d cotton to me showing up without my shirt on. So take a deep breath, there’ll be no shortage of *hobs for you.”

         “Your father’s right, Alice. I can think of a few that you don’t even want to dance with.”

         “I mean no disrespect, but it’s just that…”

    Mary and Bayless give each other a look. They know exactly what she is in a rush for.

         “…it’s just that what dear?”

    Alice struggles to say it, “Thomas asked if I was going to be at the dance tonight.”

    Bayless grunts as he bends over to tie his shoes.

         “He could have been taking a survey.”

         “Papa!”

         “Well, he could have been. These young men these days like to know how many pretty girls are going to be there before they decide if they are going to go.”

    Alice suddenly is distressed.

         “You think so? You think he has his eye on a lot of girls?”

    Bayless chuckles.

         “That’s pretty much all he’ll ever have, he’s a shy boy.”

    Alice is worried.

         “Well, if I’ve noticed him maybe other girls….”

    Alice’s thought trail off. She sits down on the edge of the bed quietly. She goes into deep thought.

         “Now what’s wrong?” asked Mary.

         “Nothing, Daddy just got me to thinking.”

         “Bayless, what you’ve done?”

         “Me?”

    Mary motions with her eyes to Bayless to comfort Alice.

    Bayless huffs a bit at what he’s gotten himself into and then he goes over and sits next to Alice.

         “I was just sharkin' (teasing). You are the prettiest girl in the entire area. I’ve never seen Thomas look at anyone but you.”

    Alice raises her head up.

         “Really?”

    Bayless looks into her pale blue eyes that are starting to tear and are begging for an answer.

         “Really. Why he’d be a fool to not notice a beautiful girl like you. I hear all the boys talking about you. Some even try to hide the fact that they’re talking about you from me by talking in Boont.”

         Alice throws her arms around her father’s neck and hugs him and then immediately barks at him to finish getting ready.

         “Now get dressed!!

         “You know the sheepshearers talk Boont. That’s so they can talk about the girls.”

         “I know…but…”

         “When the boys are busy sheep shearing their mouth is a *harpin’ (talking) as fast as their shears. I know what they’re saying but never you mind.

         “What…what did they say….?”

         “It was all good and the ones that wasn’t *harpin’ nice, well, I gave them a taste of my shears!  Looks like Thomas isn’t the only one that Mason is going to have to look out for.”

         “Hmmm, Mason isn’t even under consideration.”

    The glow from the well lit barn could be seen blocks away. It was like a *huger *jeffer only nothing was burning down. The exterior and interior of the barn had what seemed to be every lantern in town hanging on it. Floyd is seen hanging up the last of the lanterns when the Smith family arrives. Floyd looks their way and nods.

         “Evening, folks.”

         “Evening, Floyd,”

    Bayless turns to his wife and says, “They sure got the right young man for that job.”

    There are more people at this dance than usual because of the circus being in town.  Alice can hardly sit still. She can feel her heart beating in her chest as their wagon rolls down the dirt road. The excitement of the night has nearly rendered her mute,  that is until she spots Beth.

         “Beth, Beth!!” Alice screams. “Over here!”

    Beth sees the Smiths have arrived and she runs over to their buggy. The girls squeal. Bayless covers his ears.

         “Isn’t everything so beautiful?” giggles Beth.

    Alice’s eyes take in everything. The glow of the lanterns cast a beautiful light on her young, innocent face. The night was picturesque all the way down to the perfect, warm summer evening. Alice enraptured by the moment says,

         “It’s like that romance novel we read, Beth. You know where Philip asks Penelope to dance with him. And she says I’ll put you on my dance card. Then Philip says, no, I want you to dance with me for the rest of my life”

    Beth and Alice sigh and then let out another squeal together.

         “Ah…. Yes, yes!”

    Bayless turns to the girls and says,

         “Ladies, would you please take this squealing someplace else before I go completely deaf.”

         “Okay. papa!

    She jumps with lighting speed from the wagon.

         “Come on Beth. I love your dress.”

         “I love yours too!”

    Alice and Beth walk quickly into the dance.

         “I swear we should have taught that girl to call the pigs. By now we’d own every pig in the region.”

    Malva and James Lawson pull up in their wagon moments after the Smith’s.  Mary waves at them. Malva looks tired and worn. James, her husband, is a tall, thin, grim looking man, but he’s the salt of the earth.

         “Good evening, Malva. Beautiful night for a dance, isn’t it?”

    Malva looked noticeably grim but managed to smile. James walks around the wagon and helps her out.

         “It is, Alice. It’s a lovely night.” James replies.

         “We missed you at the bake-sale today.”

    Malva looks at James. Not wanting to talk about her day. James speaks up.

         “Malva was feelin’ a bit *tongue cuppy (sick) today. But she’s feeling’ better now. We felt a bit of fresh air and nice music would do her some good.”

    Malva walks around the wagon to Mary.

         “I’m feelin’ much better now. I just needed to rest a spell. Was probably the heat that got to me. ”

    Malva sees Mason ride up on his horse and turns her back to him. James looks at his son with anger. The Smiths notice this but say nothing.

    Alice and Beth stand in the door of the barn. The dance floor is filled with young and old alike. Children are playing in the grass outside the barn. Some are picking the small grass daisies and braiding them into a hair wreath. Others are playing tag. Several elderly couples are sitting down close to the band holding hands. Their bodies can no longer dance but their feet were busy keeping time with the band.

         “The band is so *bahl (good)!”

         “I know,” says Alice. “My feet had hardly stand still. Oh…I wonder when Thomas will get here.”

    In the corner of the barn are Phyllis and Adam. They are cooing at each other like love birds. Adam has a blue ribbon pinned to his jacket. Their *Boo Cake had taken 1st place and they were so happy.

    A tall thin young man of 17 walks up to Beth. His name is Jeb. He is one of Mason’s good friends and fellow trouble maker. It seems wherever there was trouble you would find these two young men were involved somehow. Their friend Virgil completed that threesome of concern for the town, but he’d hadn’t arrived yet to the dance. Tonight, so far, Jeb was on his good behavior. After all, tonight was for fun and dancing.

         “Would you like to dance?”

    Beth looks at Alice for her approval. She wants to but doesn’t want to leave Alice alone. Alice smiles,

         “Go ahead, but you behave Jeb! I’ll be watching you.”

    Alice smiles and watches them walk off, she wishes it was her and Thomas. Alice continues searching with her eyes for Thomas.  She smiles as she watches Jeb dancing so gently with her friend Beth. This was a side of Jeb that she didn’t often see.

    Alice realizes that there is someone near her. There is a gentle tapping on her shoulder. She turns slowing with a smile on her face. As she turns around she sees it’s Mason. The smile goes from her face as swiftly as a candle is extinguished from a breeze.

         “Is this the dance you saved for me?”

    A frown comes across Alice’s face.

         “Mason, I’m not…”

    Out of the corner she sees her mother frowning at her. She can read her lips and they are saying, “Be civil.”

    She politely replies to Mason,

         “I have to check my dance card."

She pulls the card from her small purse, she turns away from him and tries to look at it without Mason seeing who is on it. But it’s a worthless move, Mason turns faster and sees that her first dance is open.

         “I see you have the first dance open. I’ll take it.”

    Mason quickly and roughly grabs her around the waist and moves her around the dance floor like a rag doll.

         “I declare, Mason, with all your families’ money how did they neglected to give you proper dance lessons?”

    That remark makes Mason angry. He pulls her inappropriately closer. She breaks away.

           “I’m sorry Mason, I’m going to have to get some air.”

         “I’ll go with you.”

         “I need my own air, Mason.”

         “It’s not proper for a beautiful young woman to stand outside alone.”

    Annoyed and too frustrated to argue, she walks outside and Mason follows. As they leave Thomas enters in the back door of the barn. He sees Mason and Alice walk out the front door. His face can’t contain the disappointment. Beth sees Thomas’ expression and then she sees that he’s leaving.

    Mary and Bayless are keeping a close eye on the goings on between Mason and Alice.

         “This is where you and I differ, Mary. I don’t believe she needs to be civil to that boy. He ain’t civil and he doesn’t seem to have any boundaries.”

         “I’m seeing that now, papa. We’ll talk her on the way home about him.”

    Alice turns around to Mason as they leave the barn.

         “Mason, you don’t have to shadow me. I’m perfectly fine.”

         “Alice, why do you hate me?”

    Alice is shocked at this straightforward question. He seems sincere. She thinks about what he said for a moment.

         “It’s not that I hate you, Mason, I just don’t like you.”

         “So you don’t hate me?”

    Just then Beth and Jeb walk up.

         “Alice, can I talk to you for a moment?”

         “Yes. Thank you for the dance, Mason.”

    The girls walk off to talk. Mason turns to Jeb when the girls are out of range.

         “I’m going to marry that girl, Jeb.”

         “But she don’t cotton to you, Mason, never has.”

         “That don’t make a bit of difference, Jeb. She doesn’t hate me. I’ll grow on her.” Mason smiles a malevolence smile.

    The girls walk around the corner of the barn.  Beth turns to Alice and tells her the news.
 
         “Thomas was here.”

         “What?”

         “He saw you walking outside with Mason. I tell you, Alice, if I had a dust pan I couldn’t have gotten all of his face off the floor. He looked downright stricken.”

         “Oh no! Which way did he go?”

         “I think the back way. Jeb was swinging me around and I just couldn’t stare…”

    Alice quickly runs through the square dancers and out the back door looking for Thomas. Bayless sees her running out.

         “I’ll be right back, mama. I don’t want her getting into trouble.”

    She looks everywhere for Thomas but doesn’t see him. She leans against the barn and cups her face in her hands and begins to cry.

         “It’s just such bad timing, why did I have to be polite!”

    Alice leans up against the barn and sinks to the ground. She is a brokenhearted girl when her father finds her. She’d put so much energy, dreams and fantasy into this evening and nothing she’d hoped for happened.  Bayless sits down next to her. He puts his arm around her gently to console his upset daughter.

         “It’s gonna be okay, Alice.”

    Alice puts her head on her father’s shoulder and cries softly.

         “It just went all wrong, papa.”

         “Things happen like that little girl. It’s feels like it, but it’s not the end of the world.”

         “Sure feels like it.”

         “What did you think was going to happen tonight with Thomas?”

         “I really don’t know. I just had some dreams.”

         “Well, let me say it another way. What did you hope would happen tonight?”

         “I was hopin’ to get to know Thomas better. Not as a worker for you but just wanted to have some time with him. I wanted to dance with him… I’m growing up, papa….”

         “I know you are, Alice. You’re *doolsey  on this *kimmie, aren’t you?”

         “I really like him and he’s different than the other boys.”

Bayless is serious.

“He is a nice boy. We’ll see where things go. You ready to go back to the hotel?”

         “Yes. I just want to go home.”

         “We’ll leave early in the morning. But we had a good time until this evening right?”

         “Yes, I did. I really did.”

    Bayless and Alice get up and head to the wagon. They are joined by Mary.

             “You okay, Alice?”

             “I’m okay Mama, I think I’m just a little tired.”

    Mary hugs Alice.

             “You had a busy day.”

             “I did.”

              “Alice, can I talk to you for a moment?”

         “Sure, mama.”

         “Remember when I said to be civil to Mason?”

        “Yes.”

        “Well, I saw how roughly he treated you on the dance floor. I was wrong. Parents can be wrong sometimes and this was one of those times.”

        “Thank you, mama. My gut was tellin' me to keep my distance from him, but I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

    Mary  hugs Alice.

        “You’ve never disappointed me. Well, except for that superstitious nonsense. But you'll out grow that.”

    They all walk to the wagon and are getting on it when Beth comes running up.

         “Wait,” yelled Beth. “I want to go with you.”

         “Beth!”

    Jeb is left standing in the barn door as Beth and the Smith family ride off.

    I think it was that night that my mama learned that each of us must find our own path. It can be a moment or a second in which we make a good or bad decision, but it is our decision. There comes a time where we must learn to listen to our own hearts and balance it with all that we have seen work or not work in others lives. We can and should always love our parents and respect them, but in order for us to find our destiny, we can’t be them. All of our paths are different.

Boontling words used in this chapter: 

Bal, Bahl:                                                              Good

Boo Cake:                                                             Potato Cake

Doolsey:                                                                Sweet

Harpin':                                                                Talking

Hobbin':                                                                Dancing

Huger:                                                                     Huge, Large

Jeffer:                                                                      Fire

Kimmie:                                                                 Man or Male visitor

Sharkin:                                                                Teasing, Kidding

Sike, Sikes, Fuzz Tail:                                   Horse

Tongue Cuppy:                                                  Sick

 

    The day before the circus arrived in town, women all over Boonville busied themselves in their own kitchens cooking their special dish or dishes for the annual bake-off.

    There were several cooking competitions throughout the years in Boonville.  Every woman in town threw her spatula into the competition with energy and determination.  The women of the Anderson Valley were a hearty bunch.  Most of them were great cooks but all of them were competitive. 

    Forty-five year old Malva Lawson’s kitchen was hotter than the 4th of July.  Every indoor and outdoor cooking facility the woman possessed was going full steam.

    She had a jeffer (fire) in the stove, one in the huger ( jefferplace)  and she had her only son Mason stoking another outside to keep it hot.  Malva had all the fixin's for Zeese Cake (Coffee Cake) neatly arranged on her kitchen counter. 

She read her recipe aloud: 
             2 ¾  cups dumplin’ dust (flour)

 1 ¼ cup doolsey (sugar)

 ¾ cup oil

 ¾ cup brown doolsey

 1 tsp. nutmeg

4 ½ tsp. baking powder

    “Good, I have everything I need to make the best Zeese Cake ever entered in this contest.   All I need to do is dreek (beat) it together.”  Malva reached into her cupboard for a small jar of spices.  “And now for the secret seasoning….” 
    Mason, Malva’s seventeen year old son interrupted her thoughts.  He yelled from the back yard.  “I don’t understand why you need so many cook jeffers.  It’s hotter’n the devil’s pitchfork out here!” 
         “Stop your fussing, Mason. You don’t want to help me or your father do anything. Like I said, I’m aiming to win first place this year at the bake-off.   Stop your complaining.  We all have to earn our keep.”
         "Okay, so now that I know why you have all these jeffers going, can I quit?”
         “Mason Lawson, you mind your tongue.  Don’t you be speaking disrespectful to me and no, you can’t quit!” 
         “Woman!  You are obsessed and I don’t plan to let you take me down with you!”
            Malva wiped her hands on her apron and stomped outside to deal with her son.  “Don’t think that money grows on trees, young man, or that it gives you leave to become a laggard!   Your Pa and I have worked hard on this land and the good Lord has blessed us.”
         “Don’t start thumping your religion at me, Ma!  I’m stirring the jeffer, I’m doing it.”
         “My religion!  Thumping my religion?  You will stir the jeffers of hell with that kind of talk and you will answer to God for it, too!”
         “I don’t believe in God!”
         “Mason Lawson!  I will not allow you to deny the Good Lord in my presence!  You mind your tongue, boy when you are speaking of the Almighty!” 
            Mason curled his lip in a snarl.  He yanked the large stoker from the jeffer, swung it over his head, and sliced it through the air.  Terrified, his mother crossed her arms before her face.  “Mason!  What are you doing?”

    Mason hurled the stoker across the yard.  “Get someone else to do your woman’s work. I’m done!”  

     Malva watched in horror as her son disappeared into the barn for his horse.  He re-emerged shortly and without so much as a glance in her direction, he tore off at a gallop.  Mason had always been an angry boy and sometimes he had been unruly, but this was a side of her son Malva had never seen-- and had never expected to see.  She shuddered with a sudden chill.
    Across town Golda Boyle has just put the finishing touches on her ganos  (apple)  triple layer cake.   She said with a twinkle in her eye, “And now for my secret ingredient.”
            Her husband Douglas looks on with longing.
         “Does every woman have a secret ingredient?
         “Yes.”
          “That cake don’t look perfect yet. I think we should eat that one and you should bake another.”
            Douglas reached for the cake and instead got smacked on his hand with a wooden spoon. 
          “Is that all I’m getting?”

          “For now.”
          Douglas licked cake batter from his hand.  “Very good!  You got my vote!” 
                                           
    In another home in Boonville, young Phyllis Horner sat in her kitchen weeping.  The kitchen looked like it had recently survived an explosion of dumpling dust (flour.)  The counter was littered with burned cupcakes, lopsided cakes, and teetering stacks of unwashed pots and pans.  The neighborhood stray cat licked up spilled milk and a black teapot whistled on the stove.

    Phyllis’s husband, Adam, heard the whistling kettle and entered the kitchen.  “Phyllis, Phyllis, your tea water is….   Honey, what are you doing on the floor?  What’s the matter?  Why are you crying?”
    “I can’t do it. I’ll never be as good as the others.”
    Adam bent to kiss his wife’s floury face.  “I didn’t marry you for your cooking,” he said and plucked bits of egg shells from her hair.” 
    “Oh…I know, but I want to be a good cook.   What is a woman if she can’t cook? If you don’t starve to death waiting for a good mean, someday we’ll have children.  What will I feed them” 
            Adam helped his wife from the floor and utensils fell from her apron.
            “Here, here! Some of the best chefs in the world are men. You’re an excellent housekeeper and I don’t mind cooking and teaching you what I learned in a house of seven women!”
            “What did you learn?”
            “That I wanted seven sons.”
            They laugh and Phyllis stops crying. He looks around at the mess the kitchen.
         “What exactly are you trying to do?”
         “I wanted to enter the bake-off that they are having at the circus. But I couldn’t find one thing that I could make that would stick together or taste good.”
    “My mama used to bake the best boo cake in town and I still know the recipe. 
    “Potato cake? I don’t know about that…”
    “Who’s the cook here?” Adam asks, smiling.  
     “You are.”
    “Are you going to help me?”
    “You gather the fixin’s and I’ll clean the kitchen.”
    Adam kissed his young bride and teased, “They say don’t kiss the cook, but they didn’t say the cook couldn’t kiss his bride.”  
    “Okay, what do we need?”
        “We’ll need:

2 cups of doolsey

 8 Easters, (eggs) whites and yolks, dreeked separately

 ½ cup of charl (milk)

1 cup of nuts

1 cup of mashed boos

 2/3 cup butter, you can never have too much butter.

1 tsp  allspice

1 cup of coconut

1 cup of chocolate

     “Now I see the secret to making it taste good!”
      “Just a little more, 2 tsp of baking powder, 2 ¼ cups *dumplin’ dust.” 
      “Oh, this sounds delicious but complicated.”
      “This was a special treat my mother made for us when I was growing up. Our children will love it too.”
    She puts her hands in her face and starts to cry again. He kisses her again.
     No more tears. You’ll learn, I promise. Okay, you ready to start?”
    She hugs her handsome young husband leaving dumpling dust hand print on his clothing.
     Yes, I love you so much.”
He kisses her cheek.
         “Here we go. Now you cream together the butter and the yolks of the *Easters. I’ll put in the chocolate while you do that.”
         “Like this?”
         “Perfect. Now add the *dumplin' dust and baking powder. Here, I’ll put in the *charl  and all the dry ingredients.”
         “And the potatoes..ah *boos?”
         “Yes, *boos, and while you do that I’ll *dreek the whites of the *Easters nice and stiff.”
         Phyllis and Adam worked together smoothly.  It was a beautiful example of one’s failings and one’s gift completing each other.  Adam brings over the stiff whites of the *Easters and they slowly fold them in to the mix.
         “And here’s the nuts and coconut…”
         “That’s it?”
         “Yes, except for the frosting that comes later and we didn’t need one tear to make it happen.”
    Phyllis hugs her husband again.
         “Alright, now we’ll put this in the oven for about an hour and before you know it. Abracadabra, we’ll have the best *Boo Cake at the bake-off.”
         “But you made…”
    He shushes her.
         “We made it.”
    The baking continued throughout the night in kitchens across the town. Each woman hoping to win the prized blue ribbon for their loving labor. And each woman secretly wanting to be the touted the best cook in town. They all were adding their own special spin and secret ingredient to make the cakes, pies or main dish better than the next. 
    The next day the circus rolled in to town and from sun up the women streamed in, bringing their baked goods and looking for the best location for their prize dish to be placed. Their precious cargo was wrapped in gingham towels, their Sunday best plates held the food with charm, fancy coverings of all sorts, ribbons, flowers and beautifully hand-written cards with the name of the dish on it. The aroma from all this wonderful could have caused you to gain ten pounds without every tasting one morsel. 
    There were separate judging tables for cakes, pies, main dishes and cookies. However, there were two things were hard to keep away from the food tables, kids and the flies. It was a full time job keeping everything kid and fly free until the judges taste the food, clean their palate, make their comparisons and judge each dish on its own qualities. 
    The women were as gussied up as their product. Some of the women even coordinated their outfits to match the food. The single women dressed to impress all the single men looking for a good cook and a wife, and in that order. It was a beautiful day for having fun, looking for a husband, eating *bahl *gorms (good food) and to top it off the circus was in town. 
     But that day, whether the contestants won a blue ribbon or not, no dish would be sweeter than the *Boo Cake by Phyllis and Adam. And no one would be more bitter than the shattered Malva  Lawson.

BOONTLING words used in this chapter:

Bal, Bahl:                                                            Good
Boo:                                                                      Potato
Charl:                                                                   Milk
Dames:                                                                 Woman, or a wife
Doolsey:                                                               Sugar
Dreek:                                                                   Beat
Dumplin' Dust:                                                  Flour
Easters:                                                                 Eggs
Kimmie(s):                                                          Man or Male visitor
Ganos, Gannow, Ganno:                                      Apple
Gorms:                                                                  Food
Huger:                                                                   Big or a big serving
Jeffer:                                                                    Fire
Slib:                                                                        Small, Small serving
Tweed(s):                                                             Child, Children
Zeese Cake:                                                         Coffee Cake

 
 

 

Boont, the Beemsh and the Broadie

Boonville, The Big Show and the Cow

                                
  

    The circus that had been ballyhooed by a young man on horseback for weeks promised not to be a disappointment. All his drum beating, bell ringing and bugle blowing had stirred up the people for miles around. Every tavern or storekeeper had tacked up a sign announcing the arrival.
    With the circus in town, Boonville awoke to strange new sounds and smells.   Many of these were not entirely pleasant.  The smell of fresh sawdust wasn’t too offensive.  And the natural trumpeting, howls, growls, hoots and grunts of the visiting menagerie were different—but bearable.   
    The town folk raised their brows at the earth quaking beneath their feet as handlers put the pachyderms through their routines.  
    The smell of roasting peanuts and fresh popped corn hung in the air so strong you could taste it.   And somewhere, a tall figure dressed in a red striped shirt, black suspenders, gray flannel pants, and spats, pounded out the gay, festive notes of the circus on his calliope.  
The small minstrel shows that passed through town from time to time were no match for the delightful sights, sounds and smells of the circus.  
    In the midst of all the excitement, cursing cowboys and Chinamen with long braids bouncing on their backs grunted and strained to raise the enormous circus tents. 
Under the big tops, clowns rehearsed, trapeze artists flew through the air, and magicians practiced their sleight-of-hand tricks before small, wide-eyed children.  The dazzling costumes and death-defying feats of the entertainers mesmerized the townsfolk who stirred about in the early morning air.     
    The air was electric with excitement and anticipation.  The mouth-watering scents of caramel apples and cotton candy competed with the more pungent odors of big cats, animal feed, hay, and droppings.  And despite their thankless jobs, the animal caretakers made it plain that the thought of leaving the circus and their mundane tasks never crossed their minds.    
        “Have mercy, Mary.  That sun is blinding me.  Can’t a man sleep in when he’s left his chores at home?”  Bayless cried with a hand to his eyes to shade them from the bright rays.
Mary stood at the hotel window drawing aside the curtains. 
        “Who can sleep with such excitement about?  It’s six in the morning, Papa, the whole town is up.”
    Bayless rolled over and moaned.  “Lucky them.  They didn’t have an old lion roaring outside their window all night long.”  
    He glances about the room and notes that the covers are neatly spread over Alice’s bed.  “Where is Alice?”  
        “She was up hours ago.” 
        “Whatever for?” Bayless grumped.  She never gets out of bed this early at home.” 
        “She had friends waiting for her well before the sun was up.”  
         “Oh to be young again,” Bayless moaned. He rubbed the sparse hairs that defined his receding hairline.  
    In the lobby, the day shift desk clerk looked up in surprise to see Mr. Berry, the hotel’s owner.  Mr. Berry’s face indicated that he was not caught up in the excitement of the circus as were most of his guests and the townspeople.
        “What is Robinson’s room number?”  He demanded of the clerk.
    The clerk ran a finger down the registry.  “It’s room number five, Sir.” 
With his face dark as a storm cloud, Mr. Berry marched to room number five and pounded on the door. 
    Mr. Robinson answered the door dressed in his long johns, with his hair rumpled and his face creased with sleep lines.
        “What is it? How may I help you at this ungodly hour my good man?”
        “Well, I’m happy to see that someone in this hotel slept last night!”  Mr. Berry growled.  “Ever since your roaring lion arrived in town, I haven’t slept a wink and my cow refuses to give milk!”   
        “Mr. Berry, my good man, I can’t see how you possibly believe that this is my fault.”    
        “It is all your fault, Robinson!  It’s your beast that moans and roars all night long.  What’s wrong with that lion, anyway?”
        “I can’t say, Berry. Perhaps he’s offended by the smell of your cow.”
    Mr. Berry replied in a huff.  “Well, you and the guests will have no milk for your coffee this morning.  And do not anticipate leasing this property ever again.  I would throw the lot of you out this very minute if I could!” 
        “I don’t take milk in my coffee anyway.  Now, I’m going back to bed, I have a big show to put on this afternoon.”  Robinson wagged his head.  “There seems to be no end to how much I can irritate the people in this valley.” 
    Somewhat taken aback by Mr. Robinson’s manner, Berry stormed off in a huff.  He continued muttering loudly to himself as the Smith’s arrived in the hotel lobby.    
        “This is the last time I will lease space to a circus!  The people are disrespectful, ungrateful, smelly….”  
        “Well, there’s a little good news to start our day, Momma,” Bayless quipped.   He and Mary made their way to the dining room when they were startled by a loud roar.  
        “Goodness me, what was that?  It sounded like a lion….”  Mary cast a curious glance at Bayless. 
        “And it didn’t…”  Bayless finished. 
    Hearing the sound, Berry stops his muttering.  
    The strange roar is repeated.  
    The Smiths and Mr. Berry lead a parade of curious diners and hotel guests  to the livestock area of one of the big tents.   
        “What is it, Bayless?” Mary prodded, perplexed at the roaring sound that she could not quite identify.  
        “Well, I could be wrong but I think it is Mr. Berry’s cow.”
     The Smiths approached the lion’s cage, and there, beside the cage, stood Mr. Berry’s cow.  The lonely beast bellowed loudly, sounding very like the roaring lion.  The imitation roar could be heard throughout the tent and the town as well.
    Rumors circulated for the longest time with claims that Mr. Berry’s cow continued his curious roar long after the circus had folded its tents and moved on. 
    The Smiths returned to the dining room when they passed Mr. Berry.  The poor man stood at the back door of his hotel with his hands covering his ears, staring at the cow.  
        “The circus will not be returning to this town if I have anything to say about it!”  He exclaimed.
    A bright smile lit Bayless’ face.  ”Look at it this way Mr. Berry, that beast of yours will make folks think that the circus is in town even when it is not.  That might be good for business!”  
    Berry scowled at Bayless and stormed off, making no reply.  
        “Shall we have our breakfast now, Momma, some of those famous Easters?”
    Noting the disapproving look on his wife’s face, Bayless quickly added, “Some of them famous, but all quite inferior to yours.”   
        “You’re a wise man, Mr. Smith,” Mrs. Smith quipped as she followed him into the dining room.
    Alice and her friends had gathered outside Oliver Olsen’s Mercantile.  Folks could hear the girls giggle several blocks away.  
        “Oh Beth, I can’t wait!  I so look forward to having some time with Thomas at the dance.  I hope that Mr. Mason Lawson will leave me be.  When he passed us on the road on the way in to town he asked me to save him a dance.”
    Some of the giggles turned to moans at the mention of Mason Lawson.  
        “Is he that bad Alice?”  One of the girls asked.
        “He’s too rough for me. I don’t care that his parents are the richest in the valley. In my book he’s not marriage material. He’s too highpockety for my likin'. He’s actually kind of scary.”   
    Beth polished an apple against her skirts and raised it to her mouth to take a bite when Alice took the apple.  
        “Beth, let me see that ganno.  Alice took the apple and very slowly and very carefully twisted its stem.  
     She glanced at her group of friends.  “You say a letter of the alphabet with each twist of the stem.  They say that you’ll marry the person whose initial you call out when the stem falls off.”
    Beth laughed.  “Oh, Alice, you and your silly superstitions!” 
        “No-- really,” Alice said and continued to twist the stem.  If afterwards you cut the ganno open and count the seeds that will be the number of children that you will have.”
Alice continues to twist the stem, “K…L”  
    Beth grabbed for the apple just as Alice said the letter “M” “Let me do it, it's my ganno!”  
    Alice looks horrified.  
        “M!  No!  Now look what you’ve gone and done, Beth!”  
        “I’m sorry, Alice.  Don’t believe these silly superstitions.  I don’t!”   
    Tears stream from Alice’s eyes.  
        “I loathe Mason for his bullish ways!  I’m tired of his advances and I don’t want this stupid ganno to be right!”  
        “It’s okay Alice, it’s just a ganno,” Beth said and hugged her frightened friend.
        “But his family controls the fortunes of most of the people in this valley!  They own the hop fields and several of the apple orchards.  Some of our neighbors depend on the Lawson’s for extra income, and others depend on them for their sole income!”
        “And Mason Lawson knows it!  He feels like he can bully anyone he pleases with impunity because no one wants to get on his bad side for fear of losing their job!”  
    Beth turned to a growing crowd down the street.  
        “Look, Alice.  They’re blowing up a hot air balloon!”  
    Alice and her friends watched as the deflated red and yellow striped Solarmax fabric of the balloon grew taller, wider and rounder.   
    While the inflating hot air balloon distracted Alice, Beth threw the bad luck apple as far away as she could and then she yelled, “Let’s go!” 
    Alice quickly forgot the tragic twist of the apple stem.  She and her friends made their way through the milling people to the front of the crowd that had gathered near the balloon.
    The girls moved so close to the balloon that they could feel the heat from the propane burners on their faces.  They watched with interest as the four-man balloon team checked and tightened the tethers as the balloon expanded.
    They laughed at the antics of Toby the Clown.  He moved among them, clumsy in his floppy, oversized shoes, handing out candy and balloons.  They peeled the wrappers from the peppermint sticks as the balloon pilot addressed the crowd:
         “Ladies and gentlemen, this balloon is a veteran that served our country in the war.  This reliable balloon was used in communications, to transport Army Personnel, mail and equipment. I assure you that this is a risk free, historic ride. Soar with me above your majestic redwoods and see your beautiful valley the way God views it every day.” 
    As if on cue, Toby the Clown popped some of the balloons that he carried.  The women and girls that had jumped and screamed were quickly reassured that there was no need for alarm.
    Toby laughed his scripted laugh and then hung his head as the pilot barked.  
        “Toby!  Take your unreliable balloons somewhere else!”
    Toby recovered quickly and began blowing up balloons for the people.  
    The pilot barked.  
        “You see folks, you just can’t keep a good balloon blower down! Now, who wants to be first?”   
         “Oh, let’s do it, Alice!”  Beth cried.
        “Not me.  It doesn’t look safe.”
        “Oh, come on, Alice.  Stop being so over cautious!  This is a government balloon. The government wouldn’t make a bad balloon. The pilot just said there’s no risk. He does this all the time and he looks alive to me.”  Beth looked to Alice with pleading eyes.
        “How about if we watch him go up first?”  Alice suggested. 
        “Okay, but we’re going up in the next one.”  
        “No takers?” The pilot cried.  “All right then.  Just watch me folks, then you can line up for the next ride.”
     The balloon team finished filling the balloon.  They waited until the pilot stepped into the basket and then they released the balloon’s tethers. 
    The brightly colored balloon looked magnificent floating above the redwood forest and into the crisp blue sky.   The day could not have been more perfect for flying.  The air was crisp and clear.  There was no fog or low lying clouds to mar the view.
    The crowds watched in awe.  “Look how beautiful!”  They gasped in astonishment.  “I want a ticket for the next ride,” one onlooker yelled.
         “Me too!” Another cried, then another.
        “Step right up, folks!  Get your tickets right here!”  One of the balloon team members shouted as he peeled one ticket after another from the roll that he carried.
        “Look!  Look!”  A woman screamed.  A sudden gust of wind barreled through the narrow valley.  It whipped the balloon about like it was an empty wrapper and then tossed it into a towering redwood.
    Pierced by a redwood branch, the balloon suddenly deflated and deposited the pilot in a tangle of redwood branches.  
        “Help me!  Somebody help me!”  The man screamed.  He was cut and bleeding and he clung to a redwood branch for his life.
     The festive crowd broke into pandemonium.  Women screamed.  Children felt suddenly sickened at the sight of the endangered, injured man.
        “Some of you other lumberjacks in the crowd grab your tree climbing gear and follow me.  A couple of you bring ladders and ropes from the mill.  Load up my buggy, my team’s hitched in front of the mercantile.  Be quick about it before that man falls to his death.”
    Working like a well oiled piece of machinery, the lumberjacks and town locals put harnesses and ropes in place.  They reached the pilot, untangled him from the balloon’s tethers, and secured him about the chest in a rope harness.  
    The men slowly lowered the pilot to the ground.  He was so battered and shaken that he could not trust his legs to carry him to the back of the lumberjack’s wagon. 
    The town volunteers carried him. They gently lay him in the wagon where they saw to his more serious injuries.  As the lumberjack headed to the town doc with the injured man in his wagon, he heard the pilot vow.  
        “Never again!  I quit this dangerous, lousy business!” 
    Before the dust settled from the retreating wagon, frantic women screamed and fainted.  Mr. Edgar Estell’s pigs had found their way to town and the townspeople’s dogs had found Mr. Estell’s pigs.
    Squealing pigs and barking dogs can very effectively disperse a crowd of genteel women whose movements are restricted by long skirts, tight corsets and boots that require a button hook for buttoning.
    Harried husbands and opportunity –seeking suitors dashed like theatre house heroes to catch their fainting wives and girlfriends.   In no time, Alice and her friends found themselves virtually alone on streets that had been overcrowded moments earlier.
Alice pointed to the retired military balloon.  
        “Want a free balloon?”
    The girls watched as the wagon with the injured pilot on board passed the medicine show.  The loud carnie tossed the pilot a bottle of his snake oil.  
        “This will cure your ills, your ails, your aches and pains, Sir.  It might even cure your fear of flying.”
      Moans came from the back of the wagon.  
        “Owww.”  
    The snake oil salesman added 
        “This one’s on the house!”   
    He waved more bottles at the fleeing crowd.  
        “Anyone else? Are you faint of heart?  Got the gout?  What won’t kill you will cure you!  If yer hair’s straight, this will curl it.  If yer hair is curled, this here will straighten it!”
“What about you young ladies?”  He waved a bottle at Alice and her friends.  “Give this to your beau and he’ll fall under your spell faster than if Cupid hit him with an arrow!”
         “It couldn’t hurt to try,” Beth said with a giggle and reached for a bottle.  
    Alice pulled Beth away before Beth could take the bottle of snake oil.  
        “Come on Beth, we’ve had enough excitement here.  Let’s go see what’s in the big tent.”

                                                           
                                                                 A Floyd Hudsell = Lantern   
    As the girls walked back down the dirt street that afternoon they saw a young local named Floyd make his way down the road. Now Floyd had a fear of being caught in the dark. However, the sun was shining high in the sky that time of the day. For Floyd a lantern was an item of comfort. While this is an unusual sight to visitors it wasn’t unusual to locals. For as long as anyone could remember they had never seen Floyd without a lantern, day or night. 
    Now there was no recorded history of the sun ever setting suddenly in that area, but Floyd was not about to let darkness sneak up on him. His lantern was as much a part of him as any limb that Mother Nature gave him at birth. 
    Floye would actually be a comforting sight to some. They liked know that somewhere in Boonville there was always going to be a light. It was reassuring to know that Floyd was in charge of it. He town in the years to come would grow to appreciate Floyd, and his quirks, even more.
    This was such a common sight that a lantern was soon called a Floyd Hudsell. However, Floyd was not the only anomaly in the area. The entire valley was an amalgamation of interesting characters. They didn’t have to wait for the circus to come to town they simply had to look around. There were the Indians, and they had been there before the white man arrived. There was Mr. Jeans, a run-away slave. Then there were the much lighter complexioned Scandinavians. Not forgetting the fun-filled, loud, wine making Italians.      Yes, living in Anderson Valley in those days was like living on an international, harmonious quilt. 
        “Are you hungry?”  asked Alice.
        "I am” answered Beth.  
        “Let’s go to the ladies bazaar. I know there’ll be some bahl gorms (good food)  there.”     
    Beth sushed Alice.
        "Shhh, Alice. Do your parents know that you know some Boont?”  
    Alice laughs. 
        “Beth, everyone knows Boont! Each one thinks that the others don’t. The men speak it and sometimes they’re not saying very nice words. Why, I’ve seen grown women blush. And the women folk speak it too! I think they think that us children don’t know what they’re sayin’ but we do! It’s the funniest thing.”  The girls laugh. 
        “It’s the best kept secret in Bell Valley, Beth, the one that everyone knows!”  
    Beth’s tummy growls and she pats it. 
        “I think my stomach just said ‘feed me’ in Boont.” 

   

 

 

PIKIN' to BOONT

Going to Boonville

 

              
 
     The exterior of the Smith’s house denied the fashion commotion that was going on inside.  All that day Alice had been changing into different outfits.  She was trying to find the perfect outfit that would fit her mood for the day even though her parents waited patiently outside in the wagon.  
        “That girl!  She’s tried on all of her clothes and some of mine.”
    Bayless responded with a chuckle and a question.  “Do you remember being her age?”
        “What are you getting at Bayless Smith? You hintin' that my memory is going?”
Bayless jumped down from the wagon.  “No,” he replied.  “I wouldn’t dare do that.  But do remember waiting for you for quite a spell when I would come a’courtin’.  Why, sometimes I’d whittle a whole peach tree branch waiting for you to get ready.”   
        “You’re exaggerating Bayless. You’d better be careful. You know that all liars will burn in the lake of fire.”  
        “Then I hope you’re wearing fire-proof petticoats, Mrs. Smith.”  
        “You leave my petticoats out of this,” Mary said with a smile for Bayless.  She turned to face the house. 
         “Alice, if you don’t hurry and get out here, we’re going to leave without you.”  Alice dashed out the door shouting. “I’m coming Momma."
        “She must get her slow moving from your side of the family,” Mary quipped to
Bayless. 
        “I’ll take whatever the good Lord blames me for,” Bayless replied. 
Alice ran out the front door headed for the wagon.  She carried her long skirt in one hand and held on to her bonnet with the other.  Her thick mane of gorgeous reddish-brown hair bounced off her shoulders as she jumped down the front steps.  
    Mary and Bayless watched their only daughter run to the buggy thinking that she looked to be one-third child and two-thirds woman.  
        “Look at her, Mary, what man wouldn’t wait for her.”
        “She is a beauty”
        “She gets that from your side of the family,” Bayless said with a nod to Mary.  
        “I’d have to agree with you,” Mary replied as she reached a hand to help Alice into the buggy.”
         “I’m sorry, I just wanted to be sure that all the animals were fed and …”
    Mary interrupted her daughter with a knowing look that is exclusive to mothers who adore their children and know them well.  
        “And you wanted to make sure that you put on your Sunday best for the hop.”
    Alice’s pale, porcelain cheeks warmed with a sudden rosy hue.  
        “Yes mam, you know me too well momma.”  
        "Your momma used to be a girl, Alice."
     Mary gave Bayless a playful smack for his poorly disguised jibe.    
    Alice leaned over the front buggy seat to kiss both her parents.  “Be nice, you two.”  
    Bayless whipped the reins, clicked his tongue, and headed the team of chestnut Morgans off down the road.     
    The Smiths talked among themselves in a light hearted banter.  They waved to hired hands that hauled hops and lumber to the brewery and the mill and to farmers who carefully guided their wagons that were loaded high with hay bales to the barn.  
        “There’s a turn ahead in the road, Papa, ring the bells!”  
    At Mary’s command, Bayless rang the bells that were suspended from poles on each side of the wagon.   
        “Papa, why do you ring the bells?”
        “Folks coming from the other direction can’t see us coming around this turn.  We ring the bells to let them know we are sharing the road with them.  This is how this area got its name Bell Valley.”
         “I always have to remind him to ring the bells.”
         “Momma Mary, how do I get up and down this mountain without you?”
          “I don't know. And don’t you be talking sharp to me, Bayless. I’d rather have you ring these bells if there weren’t a soul coming for miles than have you not ring them and see neighbors and horses in a heap.  We have our precious child to see to and we have neighbors that are a mite fond of their younguns, too.”    
     Buggy bells rang out at that same moment.  Bayless guided the team to the side of the road to allow the oncoming buggy to pass.  
        “And it helped an angel get her wings,” Alice said with a knowing smile.  
         “We’re just full of good deeds today,” Bayless said, beaming as he waved at the passing wagon.   
         “There’s just getting to be too many people in this valley, Mary. You meet people coming and going every five miles or so.”
        “I don't want to move Papa!" Alice cried.  
        "Don't worry Alice; your daddy likes to complain about the traffic. Somehow it makes him feel like he's doing something about it."
        “I don’t want to move, Papa,” Alice repeated in a calmer tone.
         "You needn’t concern yourself child.  I just like to blow off steam."
        “Save me a dance, Miss Alice,” Mason Lawson called from the approaching buggy as it rounded the corner into view.  
    Alice turned her back to Mason who had pursued her for quite some time despite Alice’s continual rejections.  
    She had complained to Momma.  “Mason won’t take no for an answer!  He thinks that because he’s rich, he can buy what he wants or pursue it like a coon dog after a coon until the coon’s too wore out to run anymore.  Well, I ain’t no coon and I ain’t for sale so Mr. Mason Lawson might just as well go bark up another tree!”
    Mason reined in his team.  As he slowly passed the Smith’s wagon, he tipped his hat, smiled a broad smile, and repeated, “I’m counting on that dance, Miss Alice.”
    Alice caught a glimpse of Mason from the corner of her eye but she refused to acknowledge him.  
        “Good day Mr. and Mrs. Smith,” he called out with a confident smile and then moved on down the road.  
        “Alice Smith!  Why, I never!”  Mary cried, turning to her daughter.  “Young lady, you’d best treat that young man in a civil manner.  Your papa buys grain from his family.”              
        “Momma, if I give Mason Lawson one inch he’ll take a mile. I will not encourage him.”
        “I don’t care for that young whelp, either,” Bayless said.  “It’s a peculiar thing.  His parents are the salt of the earth.  They worked hard to build that ranch and like you and me, Momma, they have only one child.  He’s a bit spoiled if you ask me,”  
         “They give him everything,” Momma said.    
         “I could use a little more of everything,” Alice added sheepishly.
     Momma turned again to Alice.  “Then you’d better set your bonnet for Mason, Missy, if “more of everything” is what you’re pining for.  Mason’s the only one that’s highpockety around here.”  
         “Never!”  Alice cried and shivered at the thought.  
         “Then you make sure that them words what comes out of your mouth is the same ones that you keep in your heart.  You know what the Good Book says…”
        “I know, Momma.  Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks… I’m sorry. Sometimes my words fly out faster than I can rein ‘em in.”  
    The family turns to the sound of fast approaching horses.  
        “Why, it’s Beth and her brother, Aaron!  They’re my friends from school.  Papa, Papa, stop!”
        “Why are you going so fast?”  Alice asked, unable to conceal her excitement at this unexpected meeting.  
        “Land of the living, we’re never going to get to town at this rate!”  A disgruntled Bayless swore as he pulled the buggy over for a second time.  
       “Didn’t you hear? Didn't you hear?” Aaron cried in excitement.  “The circus is coming to town!”
        “The circus!”  Alice squealed.  
        “She must get her lungs from your side of the family,” Bayless cried and covered his ears with his hands.
        “I’ll take whatever the Good Lord blames on me,” Momma replied without looking up from the piece that she crocheted.   
     Beth kneed her chestnut mare and rode up alongside the wagon.   “Last night a messenger from the circus put up posters everywhere.  It’s so exciting!”
         “Papa, let’s hurry.  I want to see the circus ride in!  What a wonderful day to come to town!”  
    Beth reined her horse toward town.   “Alice, we’ll meet up later,” she promised.
        “Okay, I’ll meet you at the mercantile after the circus parade.” 
         "See you there!" Beth cried and rode off with Aaron.  
         “Is everyone ready to go? I’d like to get to town before nightfall,” Bayless said in a huff.  He picked up the reins and clucked his tongue to the horses.  
         “Don’t be so grumpy, Bayless.”  
         “I really want to get there soon, Papa!"
         "Me too. I'm starting to dream about the hotel’s bahl gorms.*  
          “Why, Bayless Smith!  It ain’t like I don’t serve you good food at home!  I seem to remember you wolfing down three Easters (eggs), two horns of zeese (cups of coffee), fried boo (potato) and a slice of sifter (watermelon) just this morning! I’ve not heard any complaints about the gorms (food) I cook at home.”  Momma’s voice was indignant.  
         “Now Momma, you’re forgetting yourself.  You’re speaking some strong Boont in front of our daughter.”  
         “And I’ve not uttered a single word I’d have to ask the Good Lord to be excusing!  I am saying before God and Heaven that Alice’s daddy has a hollow leg!”  
         "Oh, Papa!  Look at me, I’m sixteen years old.  Don’t you reckon I’ve learnt some Boont in my days?”    
    Bayless turns in his seat to meet his daughter’s eyes with a frown.  
         "All good words, Papa."
         "Bayless, let's get on to town lest they find your skin and bones by the side of the road. I can't have my husband starving to death and shaming me for it.”  
Alice snickered.
         “Ain’t that what I’ve been aiming to do ever since we left home?  I’ll not be stopping for any more roadside visits, you women folk can catch up in town.”  
     The family continued up the steep grade to a hilltop that overlooked the valley.  
        “Ain’t that a pretty sight, Papa?  Look at all them hills all laid out with their mounds of thick tufts of green grass.  Don’t it look like one of them high dollar Persian rugs?”     
     Hundreds of fluffy white sheep and dozens of does with their fawns sprinkled the hills.  The creatures grazed undisturbed on treats that Mother Nature had provided.  Oak trees and Manzanita bushes were plentiful and an assortment of bright leaves finished the canvas with a masterful touch that could not be painted with mortal hands.  
        “Lookie at all the croppie.* It's a wonderful site.  'Ol John up by Falls Creek says that the wolf packs are growing faster than the croppie herds.  He says it’s got him right uneasy.”  
    Momma glanced from her crocheting to Bayless with worried eyes.  
        “Don’t worry, Momma.  We’re keeping a close eye on our flock.  The neighbor men are organizing a hunt.  I’ll be going along with them to help thin out the pack.”  
     Momma turned again to the sight of hops gently sway in the soft breeze.
        “Ain’t nothing purtier than this crest view.  Them what come before us and discovered this land called it the Garden of Eden.  And it just might be, as far as I can tell.”  
    A sudden commotion drew Momma’s attention down the valley.  “What’s going on down there, Bayless? It looks like there might be trouble in paradise.”  
         “Land if I know, but whatever it is, it’s going to see to it that we don’t get to town anytime soon.”  
      Bayless snapped the reins.  The horses picked up their pace.  The nearer the family got to the valley floor, the louder they heard frantic sounds.    
         “Look out, Bayless!” Momma yelled as ten squealing pigs crossed the dusty road right in front of the buggy.  
          “Whoa boys!”  Bayless stopped the buggy.  He stood and climbed on the seat to look around.  “There’s a wagon pulled off to the side of the road,” he said.  
         “These pigs is right smart upset.  Toss them some Easters, Alice.” 
         "What?"
          "Well, with this fine herd of swine on the loose like this, we might just get ourselves some bacon and Easters!”  
         "Oh Papa, you mean throw them some eggs!”  
         "Bayless, be careful!"
    Bayless again takes his seat and steers the team slowly to the stopped wagon to avoid the stampeding pigs.
        “Something has done scared these pigs near to death.  I ain’t taking no chances of scattering them again.”
    When they arrived at the wagon, Bayless found his neighbor and pig farmer, Mr. Edgar Estell wrestling with a pig.
        “Dang nab it, I’m trying to get this one tied to the wagon but I got to use both hands to hold him!”  
     Bayless jumped from the wagon to help his neighbor. “What happened here?” He asked.  
     After they got the pig tied to the wagon, Mr. Estell leaned against the wagon wheel.  He was dirty and exhausted and said between hard breaths,
         “I was coming up the old dirt trail with my prize pigs.  On the turn back, I met up with Mr. Omar Robinson, the circus owner.  A’course he had his old grizzly with him.  Well, Sir, when that old bear growled, these crazy pigs went hog wild and broke out! Here’s Robinson now,” Estell said as he wiped his brow.  
         “I’m sorry about this sir.  I’ve asked some of my men to help gather your pigs. It seems that pigs and bears just haven’t learned how to get along.”
         “Nor will they Mr. Robinson!"  Estell growled in a less than friendly manner.
         “Why, I think these porkers should thank my bear for giving them a reprieve from the market and from someone's dinner table!" He breaks into laughter.  "Someone will have to have chicken tonight!” 
         “Save your jokes for the circus, Mr.Robinson.  If these pigs run themselves thin, they won’t make one good piece of bacon!  You’re gonna pay for this!”  Estell vowed.  
         "If I'm going to pay for this, you'd better be serving me humble pie with my bacon and eggs. This is an act of nature!"
      Bayless interrupted.  “We’re on our way to town.  I’ll see if we can send more help,” he added, anxious to stop the argument.  
        “Thank you kindly, sir. But my men have already taken care of that.  Help should show up anytime.  Hope someone sends a good cook.  I have my mouth set for some nice BACON and eggs!" Robinson slapped his knee and laughed.  
         "You'll pay for that bacon!”  Estell shouted as he chased off after his pigs.  
    Bayless muttered under his breath,   “We had to come to town today."  He released the buggy brake and said with a heavy sigh, “Giddy up!”  
    A smile creases Bayless’ face as he turns to his wife and daughter.  “It appears that the circus is already underway with a pig-tacular opening act.”
  Alice and Momma laughed with Bayless.  “Your daddy can make a joke out of a turnip patch or a mosquito swarm,” Momma said and patted Bayless arm with affection.    

                 
    Bayless kept the horses slow and cautious to avoid any costly encounters with the wayward pigs.  He yee-hawed them into a trot so they would pass the caged grizzly quickly before the horses could realize and react to the two ton danger.     
      “You know Momma, like as not, that circus is gonna set up its tents behind the hotel same place as last year.  Mr. Berry reserves that spot for that traveling carnival ever year when it comes to town.”          
        “I know, dear,” Momma replied.  
         “I reckon that you remember too, that we’ll be a’stayin at that very hotel this evening.”
          “We are?” Alice cried.   “Oh, Papa!  How exciting!”  
         “We’ll see,” her parents replied in unison as they exchanged smiling glances.
          “I rightly suspect we won’t be doin a lot of sleeping this evening,” Bayless said with an exaggerated sigh.     

 

 

                             

    Well, folks. I have no idea what happened to the pictures and information that I wrote here. So I'll try to write it again soon.
I want to thank the wonderful people of Boonville that still hold the spirit of Boontling and their history. 
    I will try soon to see if I can upload some of them actually speaking Boontling. 
    If you'd like to know more about the language you can find my book "English to Boontling" on sale at amazon.com. 
    I hope to revisit Boonville soon to finish this book and take more pictures. Right now funds are limited for extra things so if anyone knows of a place that I can stay and write that doesn't cost an arm and a keyboard just email me and let me know. 
    Thanks for reading and I welcome your comments. JudyBelshe@aol.com

 

                                

                                THE REALS

                                        The Family


          Mary Smith was a prolific gardener. She had a unique talent for finding just the right flowers and vegetables for every season. Her garden always had something blooming in it year round.

    She also felt that if flowers didn’t have a delicious fragrance they weren’t living up to their full potential. She felt the same about women. Mary believed they should have beauty as well as a beautiful essence. She made no bones about the fact that she loved anything that smelled good and hated anything that didn’t. Mary often came home from church muttering about how bad the Holiness women smelled.

         “No wonder their husbands leave them. They smell worse than the compost out back.” And then she would end with,

         “God never sent anyone to hell for using a little bit of talcum powder.”

      With that statement she would unbutton her heavy wool church dress sleeves and roll them up.  She would loosen the tight black collar around her neck. Then she would reach under her dress and pull off her cumbersome petticoats and toss them on a chair.

Mary would then unlace her high top shoes and kick them in the closet. Next she would pull off her thick black nylons and toss them over the closest chair. She would wiggle every toe one at a time to make sure they were still breathing.

In one fluid motion Mary would bend over, grab the back of her dress hem, pull it up through her legs and tuck the hem into her belt, instantly creating herself a pair of pants.

         “There,” she would huff. 

         “I’ll be outside in my garden if anyone wants me!”

    Mary would then slip on her husband’s boots and off she would trot to the garden. This was a ritual that Mary repeated every Sunday.  It was a wonder that she went to church at all. She had an amazing love for God and she often said,

         "Nobody has more trouble than people."

    Yes, Mary Smith would put up with almost anything just to spend time in God’s presence. She was indeed a round, beautiful, independent piece of womanhood.  If God was in charge of heavenly fashion, Mary Smith was a fine example of what the Good Lord had intended women to be.

      Mary and Bayless Smith had tried for several years to have children but over the years Mary had suffered three heartbreaking miscarriages.

    In their backyard was a beautiful garden, a garden where Mary and Bayless had laid to rest the children that they had lost-one at birth, and two others that Mary had not been able to carry to full term. 

    Bayless had hand-carved three small headstones and had planted them securely in the ground.  In each headstone, Bayless had engraved the child’s name and the day and year of their deaths.  Mary and Bayless’ hopes of ever having a family were buried alongside each child. 

    With painstaking skill, Bayless had erected a hand carved white picket fence around the garden and had crafted a bench for Mary to sit on whenever she visited her babies.     Together, Mary and Bayless had turned their children’s graveyard into a beautiful, serene place to pray and meditate.    
   
    Mary could not bear to bury their children in the city graveyard.  People from Boonville called the cemetery The Dusties.*

         “The title might have been a proper one for the older people”

she would say,

         "But these are my young babies."

    Knowing that her babies were close by gave Mary peace in the midst of her loss.  When their friends asked the grieving parents how they dealt with their loss and grief, they would say,

         "If we had all the information that the Good Lord has we would have made the same decision. We just put our trust in Him." 

    They believed what the Good Book said about life beginning at conception. They believed everything that the Good Book said. 

    Psalms 139:13-14 You [God] alone created my inner being. You knitted me together inside my mother. I will give thanks to you because I have been so amazingly and miraculously made. Your works are miraculous, and my soul is fully aware of this.

    Mary would sit alone in the garden on the days when she couldn’t find peace concerning her losses. She knew that even though she had never held her babies to her breast to feed them, or had never laughed at their funny ways, she was with her children. She would softly sing to them the hymn, In the Garden.  The words spoke to her broken heart:

         “I come to the garden alone while the dew is still on the roses. And the voice I hear, falling on my ear, The Son of God discloses. And He walks with me, and He talks with me, and He tells me I am His own, and the joy we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known.

           He speaks, and the sound of His voice is so sweet the birds hush their singing, and the melody that He gave to me within my heart is ringing, And He walks with me, and He talks with me, and He tells me I am His own, and the joy we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known."

    There she would sit alone and commune with God and her children until peace would return once again to her soul. 

    It was the early 1800s and Mary and Bayless lived on the Wendling farm in the Anderson Valley of California.

    Today, Anderson Valley is located between mile marker 9 and mile marker 50 on highway 128 in Northern California.   That is about two and a half hours north of San Francisco and about forty five minutes from the Pacific Coast.

    But in Mary and Bayless’ day, there were no mile markers.  There were no interstates.  Anderson Valley was a newly discovered, rough land that presented many challenges and adventures.  It was a land that was hard to travel due to the protective hills that surrounded it. 

    Anderson Valley was difficult to get into and it was equally difficult to get out of, so most who discovered it found the valley so wonderful that they stayed.

    Life in the Anderson Valley of the 1800s had its lighter moments but more often than not, life was rough, foreboding, and was frequently downright life threatening.  

    Such was Mary and Bayless Smith’s reality on the Wendling farm in Anderson Valley, California, when their daughter, Alice was born later in their life.

    Alice’s birth brought unbelievable joy and life to her parents and to Wendling Farm.  It was true joy, not just happiness. Happiness most of the time depends on happenings. There had been a lot of things that had happened but they didn't bring happiness.

    But this joy, this deep abiding joy that overwhelmed Mary and Bayless and caused them to smile until their faces hurt, was something that no one could take away. The doctor was sure that Mary would never carry a child to full term, but there came the promise, blessing and surprise all in one pink bundle.  

    Alice was a beauty but she never used her beauty for gain. She was built fragile but was scrappier than any of the boys in the area. Although sweet and soft spoken, Alice had a very dark mischievous side.

    The one thing about Alice that troubled Mary to no end was that no matter how much Bible learning Alice had, Alice was plagued with superstitions. 

    Mary and Alice spent many an afternoon in the beautiful garden that Bayless had created. And even though Alice had never met her siblings, she always possessed a strong sense of family.   She also learned at her parents’ knees how much she was wanted and how joyful her parents were to have her in their life. 

    But, as the years progressed, Alice’s superstitions progressed with them.  She would never let a black cat cross her path. She avoided walking under any ladder which, as many of us can attest, might not be such a bad thing. 

    Some of Alice’s superstitions bordered on the comical.  She believed that one should carry an acorn for good luck and to ensure a long life.  She also believed that an acorn in the window would keep the lightning away.

    Lightning never struck Alice’s house but it did strike the oak tree in her yard.  Not only did lightning strike the oak tree, it exploded the acorns and burned the tree to the ground.  This circumstance might lead one to believe that acorns are no luckier for trees than rabbit’s feet are for rabbits. 

    But Alice was not one to be confused with facts.  Facts did not matter to Alice.  No matter how many times her children reached into her apron pocket for candy, they always found acorns. 

    Alice spent hours in the fields with her children, looking for four-leaf clovers.  One day, one of the children asked,

         “Mommy, why do you think that we need so much good luck?” 
Alice replied,

         “Oh, you can never have too much luck. Luck runs out so you must always add to your store.” 

    Although Alice was going to need as much luck as she could gather, Mary believed that her daughter would outgrow her superstitious ways. 

    One of the high points in Alice’s life was her monthly trip to Boonville.  Now Boonville is in the Anderson Valley just southwest of Mendocino County. The border of Anderson Valley starts at Yorkville and continues just beyond the town of Navarro. The Smith's home was near Indian Creek, a creek that started in the hills above Boonville and ran through the valley to the town of Philo. 

    All of nature contributed to the special beauty of this area. Plants and trees that were washed in a spectrum of light and dark greens grew tall and lush on the high ridges that flanked the valley.

    The crystal clear rivers that flowed from crested highs to bubbling ponds in the meadows added to the valley’s magic.  They also created challenges to the valley’s early population. 

    Difficulties abounded in Anderson Valley for those coming or going.  Having once arrived, many chose to stay rather than face the hardships of a raw and rugged landscape that was equally unkind to those who traveled by foot, horseback, or wagon. 

    Boonville in those days was pretty small.  If you blinked, you missed it, but Boonville was nevertheless Alice’s favorite place to visit.

    The first settlers arrived in the valley in 1852. Henry and Isaac Beeson and their stepbrother William Anderson were the first to lay eyes on the area. Well, almost the first.

    The Indians were already there.  Some of the tribes included the Late Pomo or Macumaks, and the Tabahtea Pomo.  The Tabahtea Pomo lived in the Boonville area. But Indians or not, progress could not be stopped. By 1855 several named settlements populated the valley.  These included Hop Flat, Philo Christine, Peachland, Bell Valley, Hermitage, Whitefall and later came Wendling, home place to Alice’s grandparents.
 
    To Alice-- Boonville was the big city filled with all sorts of sights, sounds and smells. There was another town called Hop Flat.  It was a logging town and Alice’s second choice place to visit because of the dances.  There were so many dances there that the words hop or bob* were used the same as the word dance.  In the Boontling language if you were going out dancing, you were going to a hob.

    In the mercantile Alice would walk up and down the aisles between the new shipments of yardage in a semi state of hypnosis. 

    The pungent smells of feed and hay in the distance did not matter to her, she only smelled the intoxicating scent of the new fabric as she imagined how beautiful a dress it would make.

    Every time Alice discovered a new a piece of yardage she would stare at it for several minutes. She would take in all its colors and the designs of the threads. Then she would run her fingers over the yardage to feel the texture. She would touch the material to her face to smell and feel the newness of it.

    Being an accomplished dress maker, Alice demanded that the yardage meet her discerning standards and at the same time, actively engage all of her senses,  

    The library was another of Alice’s favorite places.  A new book served as her ticket to exciting worlds that she would probably never see, but could, for a moment, be transported to by the written word. 

    The library provided a bountiful feast for Alice’s reading addiction.  The librarian knew how much Alice loved reading and would let her take several books at a time. Alice cherished the books and never failed to return them in the same carefully preserved condition in which she had received them. 

    Another delight that Alice found on her trips to Boonville was catching up with friends and doing a lot of giggling and squealing as only young girls can do. 

    Alice, at age sixteen, could squeal with the best of them.  Her upcoming trip to Boonville was to be an especially exciting one.  She had barely slept the night before.  She knew that there was going to be a hob tonight and she looked forward to seeing Thomas Briggs.  She had hoped that he would ask her to the dance. 

    Thomas Briggs was an upstanding young man that worked on her parents’ farm. He was also mighty cute and garnered his share of admiring looks from all the girls in town. 

    Thomas came from a poor background but he was a hard working young man. Bayless and Mary admired Thomas for his strong work ethics. He had asked Alice if she would be attending the dance. 

    While Alice had hoped that he had a good reason for asking, she felt pretty sure deep in her heart that he did.  

    Thomas and Alice had been friends ever since the day at school that Thomas had rescued Alice from the bully, Mason Lawson.

    Now every town has its rich kids and bullies.  Mason Lawson was both rolled into one.   He had taken a fancy to Alice and would give grief to anyone who challenged him for Alice’s attention.

    Now Alice had a special place in her heart for Thomas because of his bravery in standing up to Mason. But the same noble act had spawned in Mason a grudge against Thomas Briggs that would never go away.                     

                                                               

                                    Boonville Hotel

     Alonzo Kendall was the first person to build a business in the Boonville area, which at that time, was called The Corners. 

    Mr. Kendall built the Kendall Hotel and it stands yet today as the Boonville Hotel. The original structure was made from hewed and split lumber, shaved, tongue and grooved.  The construction of the hotel was masterfully accomplished by hand. 

    About the same time Levi and Strauss, the now legendary jeans makers, moved their store to the same area. There was great promise and hope for Boonville.

        

                                       The Missouri House
                                                 (Currently a Gallery)
 

    Things really got going in 1859 when a man named John Burgot built the second hotel, a livery and a saloon.  Mr. Burgot’s hotel, the Anderson House Hotel, later became the Missouri House.  Burgot must have realized right away that Anderson Valley was a wonderful place to settle for his investments of time and money offered proof that he, like any good businessman, found a need and filled it. 

    Soon after, Sam Stevens came to town.  Stevens built a blacksmith shop and a Mr. Harris from Cloverdale built a livery stable.

    W.W. (Bill) Boone bought the Harris store and renamed the town “Boonville.” If that name sounds familiar perhaps it is because W.W. was related to Daniel Boone.  Somewhere along the way, the “e” was dropped from the spelling. 

    All these businesses were very necessary for the settlers who were coming and going and who were building their lives in Boonville.
 
Horses needed shoeing and a place to rest and refresh. People needed the staples and necessities that they could not coax from fields or livestock.  And of course there was the saloon.  The saloon was a necessity where men could drink a little and forget their cares for a spell.  

    Many nationalities came to Anderson Valley and all for diverse reasons. Some came in quest of riches, survival, warmer weather or freedom. The reasons were endless.

    The one thing that the diverse population had in common was that they were all looking for and hoping for a new life. 

    Each was willing to take on this adventure no matter how demanding the task.  With the land so rich and the people so willing to explore its treasures, the journey could only lead the willing to new and exciting discoveries about the land and themselves. 

The streets would be busy with the jostling of horses and buggies when the Smith's finally arrived in town. 

    Wagons would be waiting to be filled with supplies while others headed out of town on their way to market.  Individuals and families would be busy preparing for the ever changing weather, for life’s daily requirements, and as much as possible, for life’s unforeseen circumstances. 

    The only thing that the Smiths, other citizens, merchants, and visitors could say for sure was coming to Anderson Valley—was change.

  

 
BOONTLING WORDS USED IN :

Dusties:                         Grave or Cemetery
Hob:                              Dance or also for shoes