The Love Letters by Beverly Lewis

ask this but felt compelled. “Who is this doctor?”
    He leaned in close to look at the familiar writing. Boston had pledged that the snippets of things he wrote each day were a memory aid . . . nothing more. Why had he given this paper to Small Jay anyway?
    â€œI don’t know.” He shook his head.
    She went on to say how and where she’d found it. “You didn’t go to a doctor without tellin’ your father and me, now, did ya?”
    â€œ Nee, Mamma.”
    Her eyes seemed to look right through him.
    â€œSon . . .”
    Small Jay shrugged, wanting to keep his secret to himself. It wouldn’t matter one iota to anyone else that he had a friend who struggled like he did sometimes. He also sensed the older man wouldn’t want to be a bother.
    â€œYour father has warned us not to speak to outsiders,” Mamma reminded him. “Don’t forget he has your best interests at heart.”
    Sometimes that’s easy to forget, Small Jay thought forlornly.
    â€œBe more cautious, won’t ya, please?”
    Her concern registered with him, but Boston didn’t seem like an outsider to him, just a man in need. And Small Jay had something more pressing on his mind. “Can I take the pony cart over to Joe’s store?” he asked.
    â€œToday?” Mamma looked surprised. Then at his nod, she added, “Say it correctly, son.”
    Ach, what does she mean? He puckered his brow and looked toward the ceiling. What did I say wrong?
    â€œIt’s important to say May I when you’re askin’ permission. Can I stands for whether or not you are able to do something, son. Can you remember the difference?”
    He held her gaze and tried to follow her request. “ May I take Razor and the pony cart over to Joe’s?” He purposely emphasized the appropriate word.
    â€œ Jah , of course you may.”
    Whew. Was he ever glad she’d noticed his bad grammar and forgotten about Boston Calvert’s reminder note, still folded in her hand.

    When Small Jay arrived at the mill, he left Sassy in the big pony cart while he tied Razor to a sturdy nearby tree. When he glanced back at his cat, he grinned at the sight of her peeking out of the cart like that. “You silly.”
    Small Jay went to the mill’s side door, where he’d first seen the man and his dog enter a few days before. He couldn’t help but wonder if Boston remembered today’s outing. Pausing, he looked up to see the historic marker plate high above, reading to himself: Built by Jacob and Lavina Wolf, A.D. 1856.
    He whistled. “That’s gotta be before even Dawdi Bitner was born.” In all truth, he couldn’t begin to calculate howmany years ago this old mill had been built. He even had a hard time remembering how old his younger sisters were. Sometimes the numbers that connected to his life got all tangled up in his brain.
    He raised his hand to knock on the door and was startled when it flew open. “ Ach , you remembered!” Small Jay declared.
    â€œI certainly did—and with some help from this reminder.” Boston pulled a scrunched-up note from his pocket.
    Small Jay smiled. “Are ya ready, then?”
    â€œIs there room for my dog?” the man asked, stepping out the door with a glance at the pony cart.
    â€œMight be a tight squeeze.”
    â€œIn that case, the captain will stay with the ship.” With that, Boston closed the door soundly behind him, and the border collie began to bark inside.
    Small Jay hoped Boston’s pet wouldn’t be too lonely while they were gone. “Do ya need dog food for Allegro?”
    â€œGrand idea,” the man said, not questioning the dog’s name.
    â€œAnd you’re Boston, jah ?” Since things were going so well, Small Jay wanted to clear up the confusion over the name right now.
    â€œYes, of course. Shall we go?”
    Feeling better, Small Jay introduced