Higdon's Corner


a novel by
Lois Higdon Rice


Chapter Five



Mary quickly tore open the letter with the Tulsa post mark, so anxious to hear from Lawrence. She had not had a comfortable moment since he had gone off to work at a warehouse there. Though Robert had convinced her it was time for Lawrence to get out on his own and see what the world was all about, she still worried about him constantly. Reassured to hear he was doing so well, Mary was bubbling with excitement when Robert came in.

In her excitement over the letter from Lawrence, she had laid aside the rest of the mail and only when Robert picked it up and said, "Oh, oh," did she find she had a new concern. The war in Europe had been a terrible thing and the news was most oppressive, and she had spent much time praying for peace, but not until now, when the letter from Selective Service stated Lawrence Edmond Higdon was to appear before his draft board for a physical did the reality hit her.

"Oh, Robert, no. I can't bear to send my only son to the war."

"Now Mary, don't get so excited. He is just to go for a physical."

"Well, he will certainly pass that. He is as healthy as a horse. Just when he was out on his own and earning a good wage, now it all has to be interrupted. I knew we should have kept him on the farm, so he would at least be eligible for a farm deferment."

"Mary, he wouldn't have accepted that anyway. Don't worry so much, Mary. A tour in the Army will just make a better man of him. Besides, that war can't last forever. I think the Germans are getting weaker by the day. Who knows, by the time they get him trained it may all be over."

"Oh, you men are all alike. How can it make a better man of him to send him all over the world and expose him to all sorts of people, let alone the chance of getting maimed or killed?"

Unable to console her Robert finally said, "It doesn't really matter, Mary, we have no choice in the matter. Now let's try to get in touch with him so he can get home and take care of this. I'll write him a letter right now."

*****



Mary had to let go of her only hope that maybe Lawrence's flat feet would cause him to be 4-F, when he returned home smiling with orders to report for basic training. All hopes of an end to the war were dashed, when basic completed, he received orders to France. Young, patriotic and eager to serve his country, Mary saw him leave and she set up a vigil of constant prayer until his safe return, with a little flatter feet and a little more worldly mind the only repercussion.

She carefully stored the medic uniform and the ugly, frightening gas mask away and thanked God that he had been spared a long tour of duty. She and everyone in the country celebrated that Hitler had been defeated and now that her son had returned home safely she felt proud that he had served his country.

Robert was indeed grateful that his strong son had returned to help him with the hard work of row crop farming. Life was good now for Robert and Mary. The girls were educated and working as school teachers. The farm was the pride of the neighborhood, Mary keeping her beautiful house spotless and using her sewing talents to see that the girls were beautifully dressed, and Robert keeping the fences mended and the silo full.

"Robert, look at this," Mary said one evening as she looked through the Cappers Weekly. "Look at these new lights. There is a new methane gas that lets you have lighting into your house that is bright and easy to turn on. Wouldn't it be something to not have to clean those coal oil lamps every day. The way we all love to read, I can't imagine how nice it would be to have a nice bright light. Look at it, Robert, wouldn't it be grand?"

Robert took the book from his wife. "That does sound nice. Did you see any of these in your travels, Lawrence?" he asked his son who just came from his room all dressed up in his Sunday best.

"I've been lots of places where the lighting was a lot better than this, but I never paid much attention to what kind of system it was," he responded with little interest. Lawrence was much more concerned about getting to the neighborhood dance than a new lighting system and asked his mother, "How do I look?"

"You certainly are concerned about your appearance these days." Mary teased, then added, "You look very handsome, son. You really enjoy those dances, don't you?"

"Yes, I love to dance. I'm good at it, too. All the girls like to dance with me. No one ever turns me down."

"I shouldn't think they would. You and your friend Maurice are a fine pair of bachelors. You be sure to be careful out there, son. Be sure you stick with the nice girls, and I do hope you don't take to the bottle. A lot of that goes along with dancing."

"Oh mother, you worry too much. I managed to get around the world by myself, surely I can find my way around Calumet without getting in trouble." Lawrence pecked his mother on the cheek and strode quickly to the waiting team and buggy.

****



Maurice was waiting and ready when Lawrence drove the fine team into his yard. " Do you mind if my sister goes along? "

"No, I don't mind," Lawrence said, not being completely honest, being afraid the girls might think she was his girlfriend and keep him from being able to ask to take a girl home if he met one he liked. Maurice's sister Marie was a pretty girl, and she seemed to take to Lawrence, but he could only think of her as his friend's sister.

"I hope Blanche comes to the dance tonight," Maurice said quietly so his sister wouldn't hear in the back of the buggy. She had climbed in the back, leaving Lawrence and Maurice in the driver's seat.

"You're really sweet on her, aren't you?" Lawrence asked his good friend in a whisper.

"I guess you could say so. I think about her all the time. She's awfully nice, don't you think?"

"Oh sure, I like her a lot." Lawrence admitted, a little sad not to be able to tell his friend just how much he liked her. In his mind he knew he could never consider her seriously, since they were of different faiths. "Yeah, she would be hard to beat in this town." Lawrence continued to boost his friend's confidence that he approved of his choice of girls. Lawrence grew a bit sad as he realized his friend was getting serious about a girl and he had no one special in his life. He grew even more sad when he realized just how few Catholic girls there were to choose from in this area. The thought of marrying a Protestant never occurred to him. It would break his parent's hearts.

The sadness was short lived when the fiddlers started the music and Lawrence whirled smoothly around the floor with first one girl and then another. His mother need not have worried about him drinking: he was too consumed with the dance to be concerned with alcohol. With Maurice dancing nearly every dance with Blanche Samuelson there were even more girls waiting to be asked. By the time the three climbed back into the buggy for the ride home they were totally exhausted.

*****

Loretta was holding a slice of bread she had secured on a fork over the open flame of the pot belly stove with the lid open as Lawrence came down the stairs next morning.

"Hi, Lawrence, how was your dance last night," she asked in a voice that was almost melodic.

"It was fine. You're sure in a good mood this morning," Lawrence observed aloud, continuing, "How about yours?"

"Just perfectly perfect," she replied romantically, turning the fork to brown the bread on the other side.

"All right, what's his name?"

"John. Johnny Heinen. How did you know I met someone special?"

"How could I not know, when you're mooning around like a sick calf? You'd better get you mind on your business," he said, too late, as a big half of her toast fell to burn on the stove's hot coals.

Even losing half her bread didn't bother Loretta, as she continued to swoon over her new beau, while pouring herself a cup of coffee. "He has the most beautiful voice. You should hear him sing."

"I can hardly wait," Lawrence said mockingly. "What kind of work does this wonderful man do?"

"Oh, don't worry, he's a good worker. He is with the U. S Post Office. In fact, I can't find anything about him that I don't like."

Lawrence downed his coffee quickly and went out to start his morning chores, tired from last night and feeling a little let down, first his best friend and now his sister. What's going on, is this whole world falling in love and leaving me behind?" Little did Lawrence realize this was only the beginning.

*****

"All this fuss over a simple wedding," Lawrence remarked to his dad, as they sat in the dining room while the women folk went upstairs to hem another dress.

"Oh, they don't intend these weddings to be simple," his dad laughed. "We might as well get ready to be all gussied up like the rest of them. Your and I will both have to get new suits and shoes. I'm glad it looks like we are going to have a bumper crop this year. We may need it before we get through this." Then the ever optimistic Robert, "At least we are going to get our money's worth out of the new clothes, with Margaret and Richard getting married May 22 and Loretta and Johnny less than 2 weeks later on June 1. I have a pretty good idea Mildred and that Johnny Hufnagel are just waiting for us to get through these two weddings to announce their plans. They're keeping pretty steady company. It's going to seem pretty strange around here with the girls gone."

"Maybe we will be able to have some hot water to shave with once in a while," Lawrence laughed.

Lawrence relished this camaraderie with his father, for they had never been exactly close. Lawrence always felt that his dad favored the girls in the family, and often resented the attention they got from their dad. He knew his dad was proud of the girls for their pursuit of higher education when he only finished the eighth grade. His dad never accepted Lawrence's excuse that he quit school because he always had to stay out in the fall to get the cotton crop in and would be so far behind when he got to return he lost interest. It wasn't talked about, but Lawrence never felt he measured up w in his dad's eyes. Of course, Mary more than made up the difference, always ready to jump to Lawrence's defense.

***



"How much longer are you going to be in that bathroom? " Lawrence called to Mildred. "You could've had five baths by now. Stop you r primping and give someone else a chance. Do you want me to show up at your wedding without a shave?" He moved from the bathroom door over to the new cook stove with the coveted water reservoir on one side. "Just as I thought, she drained the last drop of hot water and not refilled it. The fire has nearly gone out too, so I have to build a fire to even heat some water on the top," he grumbled as he added kindling and a small stick of wood to the smoldering embers. When he started to fill the teakettle and found the water bucket empty he slammed the dipper on the table and stomped out of the house for a bucket of water. "What a guy has to go through around here just to get a shave," he grumbled as pushed the pump handle up and down until his bucket was full.

Lawrence reflected on his dad's prediction that Mildred would be next to wed and sure enough, before the year 1921 was over, on November 22 to be exact, she and Johnnie Hufnagel tied the knot.

"Why is it everyone in this family falls in love but you?" he asked the reflection that looked back at him from the mirror. "Maybe I'm just doomed to be a bachelor all my life."

Anticipating an evening of dancing after the wedding lifted his spirits and by the time he started sharpening his razor by running it up and down the leather strap he was humming to himself and keeping time with the his foot to the rhythm of the razor's strokes. Lawrence put a clean white towel in the wash basin and poured the steaming water he had heated in the tea kettle over it, then held it up a minute to cool enough not to burn his face as he applied it to soften his beard. Face softened, he turned the brush vigorously in the cup with the sweet smelling shaving soap in it, then applied the suds evenly to his heat red face. He moved the sharp straight razor over his face so close that he nicked his chin in a couple of places. He held a cold wash cloth over the nicks until the bleeding subsided, then splashed his face generously with bay rum. His thoughts went back to the afternoon when he had bought the bay rum, when an older Indian man was buying some bay rum too, and the storekeeper told Lawrence that the Indian didn't use it to soothe his face, but would rather drink it for the alcohol content since most bootleggers wouldn't sell whiskey to Indians. Lawrence pondered that for a while, then accepted it as just the way things were.

Clean and shaved and his hair slicked back, Lawrence went to his north bedroom upstairs and slipped into the stiff starched shirt, liking the feeling as his hands pushed open the starch closed sleeves as he pulled the shirt on. He meticulously tied the long tie, proud that he could do it so well, having been taught well by his father. Then into the sharp creased pants and suit jacket Lawrence checked himself out in the dresser mirror, being pleased with his looks.

"I look pretty good, if I do say so myself." Lawrence said to himself as he viewed himself in the mirror, proud of the new pinstripe suit and the highly polished black shoes. "Who knows, maybe the right one will be there tonight?"

***

"Yes," Lawrence said to himself aloud, "I can't say I haven't missed my three sisters this past year, but I must say it is nice not to have to fight to get in the bathroom. Lawrence knew he would not get out of the house without an admonition from his mother to be good, and above all not to drink. "Where are you going tonight, Lawrence?" she asked as he walked through the dining room where she sat darning socks.

"I'm going over to Truby Wievels and then we are going to a dance at Okarche," he replied honestly.

"Where is the dance?" Mary asked.

"I don't really know, some friends of Truby's are having it at their house."

"Well, don't get yourself in any trouble," she added as he walked out the door. Lawrence knew exactly what she really meant, "Stay away from drinking," but he was glad to get out of the house for one night without hearing the words. He wondered how she ever got so hung up on drinking as she was.

He was especially glad she hadn't said it that night, because as soon as Truby jumped into the Model-T Ford with him he said, "On the way to the dance, could we go by Pete Schaefer's house? I need to drop off a tool I borrowed from him the other day."

Lawrence followed his friend's directions and drove the newly polished car over to Pete's big white two story house and up the long driveway. Pete was sitting out on the long screened in front porch on the house's south side with two little girls. One was about 6 years old and the other about 10. As the young men approached the house Pete set the little one from his lap to the floor and stood to greet his young guests.

"Thanks for the loan," Truby said as he set the older man's tool down on the porch. This is my friend, Lawrence Higdon. He's from down Calumet way."

"Welcome to our home," Pete said as he extended his hand to the young man, all dressed in his 'Sunday go to meetin' clothes'. "Have a seat," he continued as he gestured to the chair he had been sitting on. Then he called inside, "Joe, bring us a couple of chairs."

A young, slim boy of about 9 or 10 appeared quickly with first one chair, then quickly went back into the house for another. He had big blue eyes and thick brown wavy hair and seemed proud to help his papa make them welcome.

"Aggie, you and Josephine go get a pitcher from your mama and run down in the cellar and get some wine."

The two wispy little girls quickly obeyed him, running first inside to get the pitched and then down to the cellar on the west side of the big farm house. They reappeared with the drink, walking quickly but carefully so not to spill it. Aggie the older one really carried the pitcher, but Josephine was making sure she was helping.

"Nellie,' the hospitable German again called inside. "Bring out the good glasses. We've got company."

This was a whole new experience for Lawrence, for while he had certainly had wine and whiskey while he was in the army, and he had seen his father have an occasional drink out behind the barn with his uncles, he hadn't experienced having the man of the house just invite you in for a drink. As he sat watching the little family striving to make their guests comfortable he thought what a relaxed manner they all had regarding the wine. He watched with interest as the tall, straight German with masses of thick brown hair on both his head and eyebrows orchestrated the effort.

"Pretty goot, eh?" Pete asked his young friends as they drank from the mugs he gave them.

"Very good," Lawrence and Truby said in unison.

"Where did you learn to make such good wine?" Lawrence asked his burly host.

"I don't even remember learning. In my family you just grow up making wine like you grow up milking the cows." Pete answered in his honest, friendly manner. "Here, let me send some along home with you," he continued as he tapped the keg and filled a fruit jar.

"Well, thank you, Mr. Schaefer," Lawrence said, still surprised by the kindness and generosity of this near stranger. The three men walked up the stairs and out into the cool evening, just as the sun was setting . What a sight it was. "You've sure got a nice place here, Mr. Schaefer."

"God's been goot to me. I drew this land in a state drawing, with not one improvement on it. I set me up a little shack and went to work. It got pretty discouraging sometimes, but I didn't have any place else to go and nothing better to do, so I just kept working away, and little by little I built it up."

"Do you have other family in the area?" Lawrence asked, surprising himself with the ease which he felt around this man.

"Yeah, I have brother, Matt who lives a few miles down the road, and three sisters, Anna Maria, Anna and Gertrude. Matt and I help each other a lot. I have two half brothers, Nick and Mike, but they settled up north . They came to America from Coblenz, in the Rhine Province, Germany. They saved up and paid for passage for my dad and his second wife to come to the United States with us five younger children in about 1873. They spent some time in Wisconsin before settling in Austin Minnesota. They resided there until 1882, then moved to Platte County, Nebraska, setting near St. Bernard, My dad's name was Johann. He died in 1890 at the age of 75. My mother, Maria Simon Schaefer, was 14 years younger than Papa. " She lived until just 4 years ago, January of 1917, at the age of 88. One of my sisters, Anna Maria died at the age of 56, before Mama, in 1912. My other sister; Anna was her name too: lived to be one year older than Anna Maria. She was just 57 when she died just 4 months after Mama in 1917. Trudy, is still living. Her husband is Nick Dhomen and they have 10 children. I don't see much of them and probably wouldn't know my own nieces and nephews if I saw them." Pete answered more like he was talking to himself than to the young men and Lawrence detected a note of sadness in the man as he recalled his home country and how his big family was scattered and out of touch with one another.

About the time the two little girls returned with the pitcher, a young woman, with thick, chestnut brown curls came out with glasses in which to pour the deep red drink. She was tall and full figured, well proportioned and suntanned. She kept her head down and shyly went about her task as if no one was there until her father said, "Nellie, I want you to meet Lawrence Higdon. He's a friend of Trubys' from Calumet."

Nellie slightly lowered her head as she stood by her dad and politely extended her hand to the handsome young man, but she squirmed uncomfortably as Pete introduced them. Lawrence thought he had never seen eyes so clear and blue, when she raised her lids just long enough to say "How do you do?"

She hung around only long enough to be obedient and then said to her father, " Papa, Mama needs me in the house." She disappeared into the house.

"Well, we need to be getting on to the dance, and we might be holding up your supper, Pete." Truby said to his friend. Thanks again for the tool and the wine. It's the best I've ever tasted."

"Why don't you take some along with you?" The generous German asked. Not waiting for a response he said to Aggie, "Run in and get a fruit jar and pour the rest of what's in this pitcher in it."

The young men thanked their host and said goodbye again. When Lawrence and Truby had the car cranked and going Lawrence said to his friend, "You didn't tell me Pete had such a pretty daughter."

"Oh, Pete's got a whole house full of pretty girls: four to be exact. Those two little ones, Nellie, and one just a little younger than her named Marie. She's as pretty as a picture, too. I don't know where she was tonight, probably just in the house. Nellie's the oldest, but she is so shy she won't hardly talk to me when I go there.

"How old do you think she is?"

"Oh, probably 18 or 19. I'm not real sure."

"Does she ever come to the dances you go to?"

"I've seen her at a few."

"Does she have a beau?" Lawrence continued the questioning.

"Not that I know of. I think she just comes with her cousins and sister. Her Uncle Matt has a whole slew of children and they all have a great time when they get together. What's got into you anyway? You're sure asking a lot of questions about that girl."

"I just thought she was pretty, that's all," Lawrence replied, wanting to drop the subject. " Which way do we go to get to the dance?"

Following Truby's directions Lawrence was soon pulling the car to a stop in front of the big farmhouse, where young eager people were coming and going. " Let's have a little snort of that wine before we go in," Truby said to his friend.

Lawrence opened the fruit jar and handed it to Truby for a drink, then retrieved it and took a long drink himself. "You were right about that German. He can make the smoothest wine I've ever tasted. I don't think I had any this good even when I was stationed in France," Lawrence said as he secured the lid on the half empty jar. He and Truby then jumped out of the shiny black Ford and hastened toward the sound of fiddles playing a beautiful waltz.

It didn't take either of them long to choose a partner and before long they were gliding across the floor with the others. Truby had eyes only for a little brown haired girl named Marie and they danced the night away. Lawrence danced with one and then the other, building more and more confidence in himself as every girl he asked seemed eager to dance with him.

"You really took a shine to that Marie, didn't you?" Lawrence questioned his friend as they drove toward home after the dance.

"I can't deny that. She is really sweet. I think she likes me, too. How about you? Did you see anyone you would like to see more again?"

"You were right when you said there are a lot of pretty girls up here, and I did like that girl named Agnes a lot, but somehow I kept thinking about that brown headed girl of Pete's. I kept wishing she would come to the dance. I'd like to see her again."

"Well, we could go over to Pete's and you could ask her to go out with you. Maybe we could double up. I'll ask Marie and you could ask Nellie."

"Are you fooling me? She'd probably turn me down flat, as shy as she was."

"Well, I guess we can just keep going to dances. Like I said before, she does come sometimes with her cousins. Didn't they say tonight the Determans are having a dance next Sunday night. She might be there. I'm not sure, but I think she might be shirt-tail cousins with them. As for me, I'm going to figure some way to ask Marie to go with me. Why don't you come up and maybe you will see her again. Marie probably knows her. Who knows? If she does maybe Nellie would let you drive her home."

"I'll be back next Sunday, for sure. Here, you'd better take the rest of this wine. My mother would have a fit if I came home with wine." Lawrence said as he handed the jar to his friend.

"Don't you want another swig before you go?" Truby asked.

"No thanks, the only thing worse than bringing a bottle home would be to have her smell wine on my breath. My mother would make Carrie Nation pale by comparison in her crusade against any kind of booze. I don't know what makes her so set against a little drinking. It's not like I'm a drunkard or anything."

"Who ever said you can understand a woman's thinking?" Truby said as he tucked the jar under his jacket and got out of the car.

Lawrence bade his friend good-night and headed south for the eight mile drive home.

Items on this page are
© Copyright 1995 Lois Rice, All Rights Reserved..
If you have comments or would like to speak with the author, send email to lois@WildRice.com