The Box

Will reveals some of the contents of the box he carries, while Hermit Jack continues eating bacon.

The next morning, Will and his father sat at a table in the downstairs of the boarding house. There were linens draped over the table. They were the same color as the ones in Sally's store. On the table were mounds and mounds of pancakes, bacon, and eggs. The elderly woman that ran the place came in through a back door with a coffee pot in one hand, and a glass of milk in another. Will's father was eagerly devouring mouthful after mouthful of pancakes, while Will just looked out the window into the street.

He already longed for home. They no longer had a home in Wisconsin, he understood that, but he longed for a new home. He did not like the idea that Toole City was not home. It could not be home, Father had said so. It was no more than a "stopping off" place he had called it. Only temporary until they had money saved to buy supplies, buy cattle, build a cabin and create a new home.

Will did not know how much money they would need, or how long it would take to save it up, he just wanted to move on.

Will's father wiped his face with a napkin, swallowed a last drop of coffee, and raised himself up from the table.

Will looked up at his father and did his best to muster a smile, but just nodded and got up from his own chair

"I'll be back before dark, and if you'd like, we can talk about our cabin and what it'll look like." The older man said to Will.

That instantly brought a smile to Will's face, and he wrapped his arms around his father's waist as tight as he could. Then he ran up the steep rickety stairs to the room that they shared.

***

Will's father ascended the stairs behind him, but paused in the doorway when he saw Will next to the dresser. He had his box open. He stood still watching, knowing Will had the locket in his hand, striving hard to find some memory of his mother. Will was too young to remember much about his mother. Therefore, Will's father knew he had to give his son something to ease the pain of her absence. He had placed a tiny picture of her in the locket and given it to Will, the day after they had left Wisconsin. Will's fist clenched the locket for miles as he fought off the sobs of sorrow. Later that day he had gingerly placed the locket in the bottom of the box. Like then, he now lovingly closed the lid, patted the top, and pushed the box against the wall.

"Wait," his father said. The words startled Will. "I have something else for your box. I know I can trust you to keep it safe. And besides, it'll be yours too." With that, he reached into his vest pocket, and pulled out a folded sheet of paper.

Will walked across the room, and took it from him. He unfolded it. It was very difficult to read, and William was not that good of a reader, anyway. He could definitely pick out the large bold letters across the top. They said "LAND TITLE." He felt the excitement rise in his mind.

"Father, is this for our land?"

"Yes, indeed it is! Put it in your box for safekeeping, and I'll tell you what we're going to do."

"Safekeeping," Will thought to himself. The purpose of the box took on a completely new meaning now. He walked back over to the dresser and lifted the lid on the box, then took out the wooden tray, and carefully refolded the paper. He placed it next to the locket and put the tray back in its place. He shut the lid but left his hand on the top as if to seal it further shut. He did not see the light returning in his father's eyes, as he sat watching and smiling through the whole process.

"What Father? What are we going to do now? You said you'd tell me" Will turned and said excitedly.

"And I will" his father replied. "The land is new land so it's never been used for farming or cattle grazing. It's all sagebrush. The government was selling it, to encourage more westward movement. See Will, it's my dream to raise hay, and cattle there. I want to build a cabin, drill a well for water. I hear there's a creek nearby for fishing and trapping." Will's eyes grew wide as his father continued telling him about the land.

"Can we leave now? Can we get there, right away?" he asked.

"No not yet" his father replied.

"Why do we have to stay here?" William asked, as his face scrunched up in confusion.

"Well, that's what I'm trying to explain to you, Son. We'll be staying in Toole City for a while, before we can start working the land." William nodded, but still did not fully understand.

"The money from the house wasn't enough," father continued. "We own the land, all right. Except now we need to buy cattle, horses, supplies, everything. So, I will be working in the mine until we have enough... Then" He sighed "Then we'll get our second chance.

"I'll work too," William exclaimed, as he stuck out his chest in pride.

Father chuckled. "Ho ho... oh no you don't. You'll go to school."

William frowned, buried his head in his chest. Then just as quick, he looked up and said, "I don't like school"

"I never liked it either" Will's father replied with a smile. "But you've got to learn everything you can, if you're going to run a ranch someday."

"I will run a ranch someday!" Will answered boldly.

***

Will grabbed a schoolbook from the dresser and bounded down the stairs out onto the boardwalk. He broke into a run, as he saw Sally walk out of the store a few blocks down the street.

The morning was still crisp and cool, but the sky began to sparkle as the sun slowly rose above the mountaintops. He heard the noise of clopping horse's hooves, and the squeak of wagon springs filling the air, as the little western town came to life.

He smiled as he saw Hermit Jack wearily pulling himself out from under the wooden boardwalk.

The little dog grunted as he stretched his legs out, then sniffed the air, and began his morning rounds.

Around the corner, and down the alley, Jack eagerly trotted. He stopped at a small wooden door and looked up at the closed door. He half growled, half barked and made the unmistakable noise, which he assumed all young black and white border collies made when it was time for bacon.

As always, the bacon request was successful. The door opened and a tall thin man, with a long wide apron stood in the doorway. His broad smile was still evident, even under the handlebar moustache. In one hand, he held a large meat cleaver, in the other a long thin strip of fresh bacon. As he clicked his tongue, Jack let out a bark of thanks and leapt for the bacon. The thin man chuckled to himself, shaking his head at the dog, and then ambled back inside.

All traces of the bacon gone, Jack trotted next to the bakery for a crisp golden brown slice on newly baked bread. Then to the local eatery for what was left of a delicious soup bone, which actually had most of the meat still attached. At each stop, he left behind a smiling, chuckling human, satisfied that he or she had done their duty for the little collie named Jack. Finally, he jumped back up on the boardwalk in front of the General store. On the boardwalk now rested a metal pie plate full of cold fresh water.

He waited to see what the children would do. Some days the little girl would pet him some more. She would take him behind the store and throw sticks for him to chase. Some days she would walk around to the various shops, talking to the shopkeepers. He would always tag along. Because when the shopkeepers saw him, they would give him things to eat. However, other days the little girl would just seem to ignore him, and walk off down the street and turn toward the hill. On the top of the hill was a big building with a bell. All the children in town walked to that building every morning at the same time. The bell would ring, and they would all disappear inside. The town would become quiet and he would become sad. He lay down at the children's feet, waiting to see which day this would be.

Sally reached down and patted Jack on the head. Then Will scratched his ears. Then they both started walking toward the hill, talking to one another gleefully.

Jack crawled underneath the boardwalk laid his head on his front paws and looked out into the dirt streets of his town.

Author's Note

It looks like the site is only letting me post one item per day. I have 22 completed chapters (but the book is still incomplete). I'll post this chapter, then try to get some of my non-fiction and poetry on the site. So, it may be awhile before you find out anything more about Hermit Jack