Someplace to Call Home Page 2

  chapter two

  We’re Not Squatters

  The man was tall and lean with a thin nose. He had a hard look on his face. The light had faded to dusk. Hallie couldn’t make out his eyes, whether they were kind or mean. He held the gun lightly, but she knew he could cock and fire it before Tom could pick up a rock and throw it at him. She was afraid of guns. Tom had wanted to bring their shotgun with them, but Hallie said it would only cause trouble. Tom had argued that he could shoot rabbits for food, but Hallie knew that would upset Benny. The little boy would believe Tom had killed Bob. “Guns are just trouble,” she’d said. She was so fierce about leaving the gun behind that Tom had not taken it. Now as she saw the gun in the man’s hand, Hallie wondered if she had been wrong. Maybe they needed a gun to protect themselves.

  She went over and stood next to Tom. She knew why the man was there. They had camped on his land. He had come to tell them to get off. “I hope he’ll let us stay till morning,” she whispered to her brother.

  They had been threatened before. People, sometimes with guns or sticks, had called them squatters. Hallie hated the word. It meant down-and-outers who “squatted” on private land. Sometimes squatters were people who robbed and left their campsites full of debris when they pulled out. Hallie and Tom weren’t like that. They couldn’t help that they were poor. They didn’t deserve to be treated like trash. When they camped on private land, they made sure their fire was extinguished before they left. They used a tree branch to sweep the ground, removing traces of their camp. They “paid” for their stay by leaving the site better than they’d found it. Tom had rebuilt a rock wall once. Hallie and Benny had weeded a flower patch.

  Tom didn’t move forward, didn’t hold out his hand. He stood there for a moment, staring at the man. When the man didn’t speak, Tom finally said, “Evening, sir.”

  The man didn’t reply. He glanced around the camp.

  “We got a little coffee left. It ain’t fresh made, but it’s only a day or two old. We’d be proud to share it with you,” Tom said.

  “Already had my coffee,” the man replied. “I seen smoke.”

  “We’ve been careful with the fire, mister,” Hallie spoke up. “We’re always careful about fires. Why, you can see we put rocks around where we set it. We’ll pour water over the coals and even kick dirt over them when we’re done to make sure the fire’s out. There’s no cause to worry. We’re responsible.”

  “Ain’t just the fire. You’re squatting on private land. My land.”

  Hallie flinched at the word and began to protest that they weren’t squatters, but Tom held up his hand to still her. “We just want the borrow of this place for a few days. We’ll be moving on directly,” he said. “We expect to leave your land better than we found it. I already shored up the stream bank and cleaned up some brush. We’re fixing to burn it.”

  “Didn’t ask you to.”

  “No,” Tom said.

  “Didn’t think to ask if you could trespass, did you?”

  “I didn’t know who to ask,” Tom replied.

  They hadn’t wanted to ask, Hallie knew. They might have been turned down.

  “You can stay the night. I’ll expect you gone by sunup.”

  “The thing is, we can’t move on tomorrow,” Tom said. “That’s our automobile over there. It’s got a flat tire, and the transmission’s bad. You don’t know where I can get one, do you? For less than four dollars?”

  “Don’t know about cars. We got enough trouble with a broke tractor needs fixing. I can’t figure what’s wrong.”

  Tom grinned. “I could take a look at it. I’m real good at motors. I worked in a garage in Cookietown, Oklahoma, till we got dusted out.”

  “Oklahoma, that where you from? You’re Okies, then?”

  “And proud of it,” Hallie spoke up. “We had a house and farm and even a radio.”

  “Well, I would like to hear a radio. Radio’s busted up as bad as the tractor.”

  “Tom could fix that, too,” Hallie told him.

  “You’re just an all-around fix-it man, ain’t you, boy?”

  Tom didn’t reply.

  The man was quiet, too. Then he said, “The wife would like to hear that radio again. My girl, too.”

  “I could take a look at it,” Tom said again.

  “Naw, the wife won’t let you in the house.” He looked Tom up and down. “But I could let you see about the tractor. What you going to charge me?”

  Tom shook his head. “Not a thing. I’ll do it as payment for letting us camp here.”

  “I couldn’t do that. Camping don’t cost me nothing. It wouldn’t be right to charge you.”

  Hallie liked that the man said “it wouldn’t be right.”

  “I’ll pay you fifty cents,” he said.

  “Deal,” Tom told him. He held out his hand. “I’m Tom Turner.”

  “Swede Carlson.” The man shook Tom’s hand.

  “I’m Hazel Rose Turner, but everybody calls me Hallie,” Hallie said.

  “Pleased to meet you, Miss Hallie.”

  Benny, who had been lying down on the quilt almost asleep, stood up and said, “Hi, I’m Benny.” He held out his hand, too.

  Mr. Carlson stared at Benny for a long time.

  Hallie and Tom exchanged a glance. They knew Benny was different. Hallie had known it the first time she held the boy after he was born. His face wasn’t like other babies’ faces. As he grew older, he didn’t seem to learn as quickly as other children. Benny didn’t speak clearly, and he didn’t always understand things. But he had the sweetest disposition of any child they knew. Hallie thought he was a special gift. Benny was used to people staring at him. Sometimes they called him stupid or a dummy, which upset him. A few were afraid of him, as if Benny had some disease they could catch. She hoped Mr. Carlson wasn’t that way. They needed the fifty cents for fixing the tractor.

  After a time, Mr. Carlson smiled and took Benny’s hand. “Hi, Benny,” he said. “You look like a nice little boy.”

  “I am,” Benny said.

  Hallie realized she had been holding her breath. She let it out in a sigh of relief. She decided she liked Mr. Carlson.

  “You two got you any other kids?” he asked.

  Hallie laughed at that. “Tom’s my brother. So’s Benny.”

  “Where’s your folks at?”

  Tom looked off into the distance. He got choked up when people asked that. So Hallie answered. “They’re gone.” She hoped Mr. Carlson wouldn’t ask for details. Daddy had taken off looking for work two years before and had never come back. Their sister, Barbara, had died of dust pneumonia. Then Mommy had grieved herself to death. Hallie and Tom had tried to farm the land by themselves after that, but with the drought, they couldn’t make a go of it. They couldn’t pay the mortgage. The bank had taken back the farm. They had had to move out.

  “You and Benny could stay in an orphanage,” Tom had told Hallie. “They won’t take me because I’m too old, but you can go.”

  Hallie had refused. “They might be mean to Benny. Besides, I’m old enough to be on my own with you. Nobody cares. There are too many orphans in that place already. They don’t want any more. We’ll find a place to settle down, just the three of us.”

  An aunt, their father’s sister, had offered to take Benny. She threatened to go to court to get custody of the boy if Tom and Hallie wouldn’t give him up. Hallie knew the aunt didn’t love Benny the way they did. She believed the woman wanted Benny only because her own little boy had died. Tom and Hallie refused. They sold off Mommy’s china dishes and the bureau that had belonged to their grandmother. Hallie gave away most of the fine quilts and the rag carpet. Then they packed up what would fit into the Model T and left Cookietown. That was in December, eight months ago, but the hurt was still raw. Hallie wanted to cry every time she thought of her mother and her pretty younger sister. She’d kept Mommy’s silver wedding ring and Barbara’s hair ribbons, but she couldn’t look at them. They made her cry. She
tried hard not to show Tom and Benny how much she missed Mommy and Barbara.

  At first, Tom had wanted to go to California to pick oranges. Then they heard that people in California didn’t want Okies and were trying to keep them out. Besides, Hallie wanted a place to settle down. She wanted to make a home for Benny. She also dreamed of finishing eighth grade, like Tom had. But things hadn’t worked out that way. Because they were on the road, Hallie no longer attended school, and there was no full-time employment for Tom. It was likely the three of them would be roaming Oklahoma and Kansas and living out of their car for a long time.

  Mr. Carlson didn’t pursue an answer to his question about their family. The drought had created other orphans. Perhaps he’d seen them. Instead, he asked, “You young folks planning on going back to Oklahoma?”

  “Maybe if it rains and the dust settles,” Tom told him.

  “I guess it’s pretty bad down there. I heard of a fellow going along a road, dust so deep it was up to his neck. Neighbor comes past and says, ‘Awful bad, ain’t it?’ The man tells him, ‘Would be worse if I wasn’t sitting on a horse.’” Mr. Carlson guffawed.

  Tom slapped his knee with his hand. “That’s a good one,” he said, although he and Hallie had heard the story a dozen times.

  Mr. Carlson pointed down the road to a farm that Hallie had noticed earlier. “You come on over to my place at sunup, and I’ll show you that tractor.” He nodded at Tom and Hallie, and then to their surprise, he took Benny’s hand again and said, “I’m mighty proud to meet you, Benny.”

  Tom left early the next morning and was gone all day. When he returned, Hallie said, “That tractor must have been in pretty bad shape if it took you this long to fix it.”

  “Didn’t take long at all. Mr. Carlson had me look over some of his other machinery. He’s a good farmer, but he’s not much of a hand at motors.” Tom opened his hand. “He paid me a dollar.”

  “A dollar! For tinkering with motors?”

  “He said it was worth every penny to him. I fixed the radio, too.” Tom grinned at his sister. “And he wants me to come back tomorrow and help in the field.”

  “Tom, that’s great!”

  “Great,” Benny repeated, although he didn’t know what they were talking about.

  “Tom’s got work,” Hallie told him.

  “Great,” Benny said again. “We found berries.”

  “We found a patch of blackberries,” Hallie told Tom. “We’ll have them with pancakes.”

  “No pancakes,” Tom told her. “Look what I brought.” He reached into his overalls front pocket and took out two pieces of fried chicken wrapped in wax paper. “Mrs. Carlson brought out dinner for us in the field. When I went to the house with Mr. Carlson to get my dollar, she told me to take the leftovers home with me. Mr. Carlson must have told her about you and Benny. I ate so much I’m hardly hungry.” He handed the chicken to Hallie and Benny.

  “I like chicken,” Benny said.

  “This is the best day since we found those tomatoes,” Hallie said.

  “It’s even better than you think,” Tom told her. “Just as I was leaving, Mrs. Carlson came outside and asked me if you’d like to help clean her house. She’ll pay you a quarter. She said to bring Benny. I bet she’ll fry another chicken.”

  Hallie stared at her brother. “If she’ll fix us dinner, I’ll work for free.” She thought a moment. “But I’ll still take the quarter.” Then she asked, “What’s their daughter like?”

  Tom shook his head. “When I went inside to fix the radio, the girl was taking a nap. I didn’t see her.”

  “I hope she’s not mean to Benny.” Just the week before, a boy had pointed at Benny and called him stupid.

  That night, Hallie explained to Benny that she was taking him with her to Mr. Carlson’s farm. She told him he must be a very good little boy and not get into things. “I’m good,” he said.

  “I know you are, Benny, but sometimes you forget.” Then she said, “They have a girl there. Tom says her name is Tessie.” She wanted to warn Benny that Tessie might not care to play with him, but she didn’t want the little boy to worry. Maybe the girl was as nice as her parents.

  Hallie herself worried about Tessie as she and Benny and Tom walked down the road to the Carlson farm. Benny was excited. He asked all about the girl, then declared, “Tessie’s my friend.”

  “I hope so,” Hallie told Tom. He was watching Benny kick a rock. Every now and then the boy stopped to study a bug or to pick the flowering weeds that grew along the roadside. Hallie had washed both Benny and herself. They’d dressed in clean clothes. She’d slicked back Benny’s thick hair and braided her own. Still, she worried about what Mrs. Carlson would think of them. Their clothes were old. Benny’s hands were dirty from picking the weeds. By the time they reached the Carlson place, Benny had a handful of the flowers.

  Tom saw Mr. Carlson in the barn. He left Hallie and Benny by the back door of the house. Hallie knew better than to go to the front door. Front doors were for preachers and school teachers. She knocked on the door, then held her breath.

  Mrs. Carlson looked a good deal like her husband, thin with a narrow face. She was only a little taller than Hallie, who was five feet, four inches the last time she measured. That was before they left Cookietown. She thought she was taller now, since the hem of her dress was above her knees.

  Mrs. Carlson opened the screen door and looked Hallie and Benny up and down. Then she smiled and called, “Tessie, someone’s come to play with you.”

  A little girl about Benny’s size came outside and beamed at Benny. As much as she resented people staring at her little brother, Hallie couldn’t help but gape at Tessie. The girl had Benny’s same eyes and face, the same short neck and fingers. She glanced at Mrs. Carlson, who smiled at her.

  Benny grinned. “She’s pretty,” he told Hallie. Then he held out the bouquet of weeds.

  Mrs. Carlson put out her hand. “Why, thank you, Benny,” she said.

  “No,” Benny said. “Not you. Tessie.” He handed the bouquet to Tessie.

  “What do you say?” Mrs. Carlson prodded her daughter.

  “Thank you.” She gave the flowers to her mother. “I have a swing.”

  “A swing!” Benny cried.

  “You can push me. Come on.”

  “Okay.” The two children ran off.

  Hallie and Mrs. Carlson watched them for a moment. Then Hallie said, “I didn’t know you had a girl like Benny.”

  “No. Mr. Carlson didn’t say anything.” Mrs. Carlson was silent for a moment. Hallie wondered if Mr. Carlson hadn’t said anything because he wanted to see what kind of worker Tom was before he let Tessie meet Benny. The Carlsons might not have wanted to be friends with folks they thought were squatters.

  “Do you think Tessie knows that Benny is . . . is like her?” Hallie asked. “Benny wouldn’t know because he’s never seen himself in a mirror.”

  “I don’t know. She’s just happy to have someone to play with. She’s lonely. The other children . . . well, sometimes they don’t like being around her. Tessie’s such a sweet little girl, and children can say hurtful things. They don’t mean to be cruel, of course, but they can be thoughtless.”

  “I know,” Hallie said.

  “Of course you do. Now come into the house. It’s hot enough for the hens to lay hard-boiled eggs.”

  Hallie followed Mrs. Carlson inside, careful not to let the screen door bang. She looked around the kitchen in wonder. Instead of a pie safe, Mrs. Carlson had cupboards attached to the walls. “They keep the dust out,” Mrs. Carlson said with a laugh. “With all the dirt flying around these days, I’d have had to wash the dishes before we ate as well as after.”

  There was a porcelain sink with running water, not a pump, and a real refrigerator with a motor on top, in place of an icebox. Best of all, there was a gas stove instead of a cook stove. It was white with black burners. Hallie had looked at pictures of such appliances but had never seen a real one. “Oh m
y,” she said, staring at the stove.

  “It’s a beauty, isn’t it?” Mrs. Carlson said. “Mr. Carlson bought it for me before the drought. Of course, after what’s happened to the price of crops, it was foolish to spend so much for it. I’d sell it, but nobody’s got the money to buy it.” She grinned at Hallie. “It cooks awful good. To tell you the truth, I’m glad to have it instead of that old cook stove. I couldn’t hardly stand to cook on it in this heat. The gas stove is so much safer for Tessie. I couldn’t keep her away from the cook stove. I was afraid she’d burn herself.”

  Mrs. Carlson showed Hallie the rest of the house. There was a living room with a matching sofa and chair and the radio that Tom had fixed, and two bedrooms. The house even had a room just for Mrs. Carlson’s sewing machine and fabric and patterns. Hallie thought it was the most beautiful house she’d ever seen and tried to picture herself living there. Tom and Benny would share one bedroom, and she would have a room of her own. She’d never imagined such a luxury. In Oklahoma, they had lived in a one-room house. Of course, Mommy had fixed it up nice, but it was still cramped. The children slept on mattresses on the floor. Mommy and Daddy had a curtained-off area to themselves. Hallie wondered if she’d ever have a home like the Carlsons’. Will we ever have a home again?

  chapter three

  The Hired Man’s Cabin

  Benny sang a tuneless song as the three siblings walked back along the dusty road to where they had camped. He stopped to pick up a stick and dragged it in the dirt. “Tessie has a swing,” he said. He’d told his brother about the swing three or four times already. “There’s Bob!” he cried. A rabbit skittered through the bush beside them. “Hi, Bob.” He watched the rabbit disappear. “I’ll tell Tessie I saw Bob.”

  “Benny’s had a good day,” Tom told Hallie. “Maybe the best one since we left home.”

  “We’ve all had a good day,” she replied. “I like helping Mrs. Carlson. It’s fun. I decided not to take the quarter she offered. I feel I’m paying her back for letting us camp on their land. She said if I help her bottle tomatoes, she’ll give me some.”