hadn’t had his supper.
Frank was pretty good-natured about the ribbing. “It’s better not hearing when you work than not working when you hear,” he teased right back. “Good thing the birds quit singin’, Harry, or you’d a’ never got the job done.”
Harry smiled. I joined them with the onions in my hand as they went walking to the house. Harry seemed happy for Frank to return his teasing. Harry loved to joke around, and he was always glad whenever anyone in his family joined in, which didn’t happen very often.
But Frank wasn’t joking for long. “I was thinkin’ about that fella named Beethoven,” he said suddenly. “He could write music when he was deaf as a post. And if he could do that, seems like anybody else could do most anythin’ they set their mind on, you know?”
Harry looked at him sideways. “You’re the strangest fella I know. Who said anythin’ about a deaf man writin’ music?”
“Mrs. Post did, after Emmie’s choir practice last Sunday. She said it should be an inspiration to persevere daily, and I think it is.”
“How come?” Harry asked, giving him a funny look. “You don’t write music. You’re not even deaf. At least not all the time.”
“Everybody’s somethin’,” Frank said with a sigh. “I guess I’m a couple a’ things, maybe. Whatever anybody’d wish to call it.”
“Half lame and illiterate. That’s what you call it,” Harry said immediately, though he didn’t sound mean. “You think you could do most anythin’, huh? You want to race me to the porch?”
Frank smiled. “I’ll race you tomorrow to see who can get the most work done.”
Dad laughed a little. I could tell he was glad they were getting along. It hadn’t always been that way. There’d been times when Frank didn’t get much consideration out of his brothers, except maybe Sam or Joe.
The sky was getting gray, and a stiff breeze started blowing. But it’d been so warm today that it felt good. I figured it’d rain overnight, and we sure needed it. Harry said something about looking forward to my Mom’s cooking tonight instead of Rorey’s. And then I heard something off a ways. Somebody was running through the timber. But there was no way we could have expected what we heard then.
Screaming. Emma Grace was somewhere in the trees, screaming and yelling for Frank and Mom and Dad and Harry. We all started running. I couldn’t imagine what in the world could be wrong. She ran out of the timber straight toward our garden. She was yelling so loud Mom came running out of the house right away.
“Emmie!” Dad was the first one to get hold of her. “Emmie, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t know! Just come! Will you come? Pa’s actin’ all crazy, throwin’ stuff and knockin’ things around—” “He can’t be drinkin’,” Franky said, suddenly looking pale. “Not now.” He started away from us before she even answered him.
“I don’t know. I don’t know!” She took a deep breath, trying to calm down. “I was weedin’ by the strawberry patch, and Berty went inside with the mail to read to Pa, an’ I don’t know what happened! I heard the awfulest commotion. I went to see what all the noise was, but Rorey yelled at me to run and get you! I could tell she was scared—”
“Dear Lord,” my mother said so softly I almost didn’t hear her.
“Stay here with Katie and Sarah, Emmie,” Daddy told her with a terrible solemn look. “Help yourself to the supper. We’ll go see what this is about. You stay too, Harry.”
Dad didn’t say anything to Frank. But it wouldn’t have done any good because Frank was already gone.
11
Frank
At first I thought it must be the drinkin’, an’ I was ready to be mad at Pa over doin’ that in the daylight in front a’ Emmie and Bert. But then when Emmie said Bert had brung the mail, somethin’ worse crept over me all the way to my feet, makin’ it hard to walk because I was feelin’ so stiff and cold. What if Pa went all
Frank was pretty good-natured about the ribbing. “It’s better not hearing when you work than not working when you hear,” he teased right back. “Good thing the birds quit singin’, Harry, or you’d a’ never got the job done.”
Harry smiled. I joined them with the onions in my hand as they went walking to the house. Harry seemed happy for Frank to return his teasing. Harry loved to joke around, and he was always glad whenever anyone in his family joined in, which didn’t happen very often.
But Frank wasn’t joking for long. “I was thinkin’ about that fella named Beethoven,” he said suddenly. “He could write music when he was deaf as a post. And if he could do that, seems like anybody else could do most anythin’ they set their mind on, you know?”
Harry looked at him sideways. “You’re the strangest fella I know. Who said anythin’ about a deaf man writin’ music?”
“Mrs. Post did, after Emmie’s choir practice last Sunday. She said it should be an inspiration to persevere daily, and I think it is.”
“How come?” Harry asked, giving him a funny look. “You don’t write music. You’re not even deaf. At least not all the time.”
“Everybody’s somethin’,” Frank said with a sigh. “I guess I’m a couple a’ things, maybe. Whatever anybody’d wish to call it.”
“Half lame and illiterate. That’s what you call it,” Harry said immediately, though he didn’t sound mean. “You think you could do most anythin’, huh? You want to race me to the porch?”
Frank smiled. “I’ll race you tomorrow to see who can get the most work done.”
Dad laughed a little. I could tell he was glad they were getting along. It hadn’t always been that way. There’d been times when Frank didn’t get much consideration out of his brothers, except maybe Sam or Joe.
The sky was getting gray, and a stiff breeze started blowing. But it’d been so warm today that it felt good. I figured it’d rain overnight, and we sure needed it. Harry said something about looking forward to my Mom’s cooking tonight instead of Rorey’s. And then I heard something off a ways. Somebody was running through the timber. But there was no way we could have expected what we heard then.
Screaming. Emma Grace was somewhere in the trees, screaming and yelling for Frank and Mom and Dad and Harry. We all started running. I couldn’t imagine what in the world could be wrong. She ran out of the timber straight toward our garden. She was yelling so loud Mom came running out of the house right away.
“Emmie!” Dad was the first one to get hold of her. “Emmie, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t know! Just come! Will you come? Pa’s actin’ all crazy, throwin’ stuff and knockin’ things around—” “He can’t be drinkin’,” Franky said, suddenly looking pale. “Not now.” He started away from us before she even answered him.
“I don’t know. I don’t know!” She took a deep breath, trying to calm down. “I was weedin’ by the strawberry patch, and Berty went inside with the mail to read to Pa, an’ I don’t know what happened! I heard the awfulest commotion. I went to see what all the noise was, but Rorey yelled at me to run and get you! I could tell she was scared—”
“Dear Lord,” my mother said so softly I almost didn’t hear her.
“Stay here with Katie and Sarah, Emmie,” Daddy told her with a terrible solemn look. “Help yourself to the supper. We’ll go see what this is about. You stay too, Harry.”
Dad didn’t say anything to Frank. But it wouldn’t have done any good because Frank was already gone.
11
Frank
At first I thought it must be the drinkin’, an’ I was ready to be mad at Pa over doin’ that in the daylight in front a’ Emmie and Bert. But then when Emmie said Bert had brung the mail, somethin’ worse crept over me all the way to my feet, makin’ it hard to walk because I was feelin’ so stiff and cold. What if Pa went all
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