The Whippoorwill Trilogy - Sharon Sala Page 0,55

at the snot running down his nose with the back of his hand. They just didn’t understand. Here he was, nearly a man, and didn’t yet have a man’s name. He was sick of school and sick of fighting. He’d decided last night that learning to read wasn’t worth the trouble it was going to take.

“I ain’t a goin’ back to that there school and you can’t make me,” he cried, then covered his backside with both hands, certain that his ultimatum would warrant a whipping of severe extent.

Isaac was in a quandary. On one hand, Minna was weeping with joy over the fact that they’d found Baby Boy alive and well. On the other, Isaac considered a direct refusal to obey a father’s orders should merit some sort of punishment. However, it was the condition of his son’s face and Minna’s joy that slowed his intent.

He waved the switch above his head. “See here, Baby, you just cain’t go and—”

“That’s just it, Pa. I ain’t a baby no more. I’m plumb close to growed. I hunted winter meat with you last snow, and you said I could go on my own this year and see if I could fetch down the first deer. I plow, I cut wood, and I know how to do near everythin’ you do.”

The truth of his son’s words hit Isaac hard. He slumped against a willow overhanging the creek bank while Minna stood beside him, making promises to Baby Boy that Isaac knew he could never deliver. Finally, he’d had enough. His voice echoed from one side of the creek to the other as he waded into the water after his boy.

“Son! You get out of that water and get on back to the house, and you do it now! I won’t have no young’en of mine back-talkin’, you hear me?”

Isaac waved the switch for effect, but both he and Minna knew he wouldn’t use it. Not now.

Baby Boy quelled at the tone in his father’s voice. His small shoulders slumped. “I’ll come,” he muttered. “But I ain’t goin’ back to that school.” With a defeated air, he began climbing up the creek bank and out of the water.

Minna Jessup was barely five feet tall to her husband’s six foot height, but when their child was in her arms, she lit into Isaac with all of her might.

“You’ve got to do somethin’ and I mean now, Isaac Jessup! He’s my only livin’ child, and I cain’t be havin’ him runnin’ off like this again out of fear. You’re the one who wouldn’t put a name to him when I gave him birth, so you’re the one who’s gonna have to find a way to make this right.”

“Well, hell, Minna,” Isaac grumbled. “I want him happy as much as you do. You ain’t the only one who lost all them babies. I had to dig the holes for each and every one. It takes a lot out of a man when he has to dig graves for seven of his own.”

Just thinking of all her precious babies set Minna to crying even harder.

Isaac groaned and then pulled his son out of Minna’s arms. “Run on to the house now,” he said gently. “And wash your face good, too.”

“Yes sir,” Baby Boy mumbled, and took off running across the prairie.

Minna fell into Isaac’s arms with a sob. “I know you suffered, too, Isaac. And I ain’t puttin’ any blame on you. What happened was God’s will. I’ve accepted that. But what about Baby Boy? What are we gonna do?”

Isaac held her close, marveling at how so tiny a woman could bring him so fast to his knees.

“I’ll figure out somethin’ Minna, honey. Don’t you fret none, you hear? I’ll make it right and that’s a promise.”

She sniffed twice and then wiped her face with the hem of her apron, much in the same way she’d survived her losses.

“Well now, that’s that, I suppose. Let’s get on back to the house. Most likely Baby will be starvin’. He missed his breakfast and his dinner, too.”

Minna hurried on ahead, anxious to get to her single, precious chick, leaving Isaac alone to come at his own speed. And left alone, Isaac had to admit that his sin of omission had done much toward the suffering that Baby Boy was now enduring.

“Lordy be,” he muttered, as he followed his family home across the prairie. “Who would’a thought there’d be so much fuss over a name?”

Long after supper was over, Isaac