A Time for Everything by Mysti Parker

washed,
dressed, and put up her hair. Downstairs, the dining room was
vacant, though crumb-covered plates and an empty platter occupied
the table. Portia carried the basket into the kitchen, where Bessie
and Jonathan were eating their breakfast at the small table. The
boy’s eyes grew bigger the closer she came.
    She walked right up to him, holding
the basket at an angle. Soon as she lifted the lid, the little
serpent’s head popped out, and he welcomed them all with a flick of
his tiny forked tongue.
    “ Sweet Jesus!” Bessie
pushed away from the table, jumped to her feet and backed toward
the door leading outside. “What do you think you’re doing, bringing
that thing in here? Tryin’ to scare me to death?”
    Portia shut the lid gently, being
careful not to hurt the little snake. She looked directly at
Jonathan. “I found it in my bed this morning. Care to
explain?”
    He flicked his eyes from Bessie to
Portia and shook his head frantically.
    “ Jonny?” Bessie said, with
a note of warning in her voice. “Did you put a snake in Mrs.
McAllister’s bed? You best tell the truth or you’ll get a good
whippin’.”
    He glanced at Portia and lowered his
eyes to the table. Biting his lip, he finally nodded.
    Bessie pointed toward the dining room
door. “You get upstairs to your room and don’t you come out ’til I
tell you!”
    “ Wait,” Portia said, as an
idea sprang to mind. Jonathan paused at the threshold. “I think we
can come up with something much more productive.”
    Bessie looked at her with one dark,
skeptical brow lifted high.
    “ It’s a nice day out. I
say we skip lessons and put this boy to work. He’s plenty old
enough to carry his weight around here, and I have yet to see him
do any chores.”
    Jonathan’s shoulders drooped, and he
gave her a look that suggested a good whipping would be the better
punishment.
    “ We don’t work him real
hard, not since he stopped talking.” Pity coated Bessie’s words,
and she looked at him as though he might soon be on his
deathbed.
    Nonsense. This ‘condition’ of his weighed down the whole
household. The child was healthy and shouldn’t be coddled into
idleness that fostered disrespect and mischief. “His arms and legs
are completely functional. He doesn’t need to talk to be able to
work.”
    With her lips skewed to one side,
Bessie regarded him for a moment. “All right. What you got in
mind?”
    “ What’s on your chore list
for the day?”
    “ Weedin’, prunin’,
plantin’ potatoes and beets…”
    “ Then we’ll help you,
won’t we, Jonny?”
    His breath came out in a dreadful sigh
as he stomped toward the back door.
    “ No, not yet.”
    He paused, looking puzzled.
    Portia handed him the basket. “First
you’ll return this little fellow to where you found
him.”
    He wrinkled his nose and narrowed his
eyes at her but trudged out the door with the basket, heading
toward the garden.
    “ I don’t know what’s
gotten into that boy. He never did this kind of thing when his mama
was alive,” Bessie said.
    “ It’s understandable. His
whole world has changed, and he feels helpless. Putting a snake in
my bed is something he can control. At least it wasn’t a
copperhead.”
    Bessie looked at her for a
moment, her eyes softer than usual. “Maybe you’re right about that.
What are you gonna do all day?”
    “ I’ll be working outside,
same as you.” She rolled up her sleeves and smiled.
    Eyes wide with surprise, Bessie said,
“All right, then. Gardenin’ shed’s right out there. You can start
by pruning the rosebushes. I’ll clean up the breakfast dishes and
be out shortly.”
    Portia found Jonathan by the shed, now
with an empty knitting basket. She gathered pruning shears and some
gloves. At the front corner of the house near the parlor, they
found the first unruly rosebush. He crossed his arms and scowled
the whole time, but he watched closely as she showed him how to cut
a few dead and damaged stems.
    Then it was his