The end of the worship service had come at the Durry church. Young and old flooded or trickled down the steps, respective of their age and station in the church's life. Boys hollered at each other, chasing one another around. Girls giggled and chatted, some clutching dolls, some running about. Parents chatted and simultaneously either watched or ignored their playful children.
Timid little Lucy James, all of seven, stood at the side of her family's wagon, eagerly watching a group of young boys playing tag and tustling with each other.
She leaned forward ever so slightly and whispered, "Julian! Run!!" as said lad avoided being caught very narrowly.
After a bit, the games subsided as hungry children trailed behind their parents toward the Sunday feast. Julian sauntered over to where the Bruke's wagon was parked, as usual, next to the James'. He had an arm over the local barber's eight-year-old twins shoulder's.
George Burke was already in the wagon, leaned over talking to a neighbor, when his youngest strolled up--his hair crazy and a new hole in his Sunday pants. Lucy noted the tear and remarked on it.
"Oh, Julian! You've torn your pants!!"
Billy and Walt Goodman giggled and hooted as Julian quickly bent to inspect his trousers. While their words were mainly unintelligable, it was more than clear that they were making fun of him for caring what a girl had to say. Julian's eyes flashed and he turned pink; but then he leaned carelessly on the wagon wheel and looking straight into Lucy's face, drawled, "Who cares?"
Lucy's shock was evident. Julian had always, since she had known him, been rather thoughtful. He had never spoken like that before!
"Why, Julian," she stammered, "I-I didn't mean it like that...'Deed I didn't! I'll mend 'em for you, if you like."
She tacked that last on eagerly, as it wasn't unusual for the James ladies to tackle their neighbor's mending for them.
Julian started to smile, but a single glance into his chums faces and he pulled himself up haughtily and climbed half-way into the wagon. Then he paused and looked down at Lucy with a snort.
"I'll have Rodger fix 'em!"
George, suddenly aware that something wasn't right, straightened up and screwed around to look at his son as the boy threw himself into the wagon.
"Bye, Julian!" the twins called as the dashed off in response to their father's call.
"See ya, fellas!" Julian called after them, pointedly avoiding his own father's eye.
After a moment of silence, George asked softly, "Julian, you gonna help Miss Lucy into her wagon?"
George knew and approved of his youngest son's close friendship with Lucy. He considered it both a gentling and strengthing relationship and he encouraged his son in treating Lucy like a lady--from opening doors for her to helping her into wagons.
Lucy looked up with a smile, thinking that now that the Goodman boys had gone that "her" Julian as he was frequently thought of, would return to his normal self. She almost immediately dissolved into tears as the boy retorted, after a fleeting glance from his father to Lucy, "No."
Astounded, George exclaimed, "Julian!"
He opened his mouth to say more, but quickly closed it again. A rather Bartholomew-esque expression had settled onto Julian's features. Besides, George suddenly realized what had happened right under his very nose.
Thinking is wisest to let the topic drop for the moment, George instead leaped from his wagon and boosted Lucy into her father's. He whispered to her gently, "It'll be alright, Lucy...you'll see."
He stood there, holding her petite little hands until Philip arrived followed by the rest of the family. Mr. and Mrs. James took in the scene wordlessly. Sullen-faced Julian seated hunched over and half-turned away in one wagon, teary-eyed Lucy clinging to Mr. Burke's big, comforting hand in the other.
Philip raised a questioning eyebrow at George as he leaned in, asking, "What happened?"
"Some sort of childish spat," was the rejoinder.
Lucy was only partly comforted on the way home, as she rode with her head in Mama's lap. She felt Julian had betrayed her and that was unforgivable!
Resolved, she murmured, tears squeezing out, "Never! I'll never speak to him again!"
Loretta and Philip made startled eye-contact over their daughter's head. This was serious...
Timid little Lucy James, all of seven, stood at the side of her family's wagon, eagerly watching a group of young boys playing tag and tustling with each other.
She leaned forward ever so slightly and whispered, "Julian! Run!!" as said lad avoided being caught very narrowly.
After a bit, the games subsided as hungry children trailed behind their parents toward the Sunday feast. Julian sauntered over to where the Bruke's wagon was parked, as usual, next to the James'. He had an arm over the local barber's eight-year-old twins shoulder's.
George Burke was already in the wagon, leaned over talking to a neighbor, when his youngest strolled up--his hair crazy and a new hole in his Sunday pants. Lucy noted the tear and remarked on it.
"Oh, Julian! You've torn your pants!!"
Billy and Walt Goodman giggled and hooted as Julian quickly bent to inspect his trousers. While their words were mainly unintelligable, it was more than clear that they were making fun of him for caring what a girl had to say. Julian's eyes flashed and he turned pink; but then he leaned carelessly on the wagon wheel and looking straight into Lucy's face, drawled, "Who cares?"
Lucy's shock was evident. Julian had always, since she had known him, been rather thoughtful. He had never spoken like that before!
"Why, Julian," she stammered, "I-I didn't mean it like that...'Deed I didn't! I'll mend 'em for you, if you like."
She tacked that last on eagerly, as it wasn't unusual for the James ladies to tackle their neighbor's mending for them.
Julian started to smile, but a single glance into his chums faces and he pulled himself up haughtily and climbed half-way into the wagon. Then he paused and looked down at Lucy with a snort.
"I'll have Rodger fix 'em!"
George, suddenly aware that something wasn't right, straightened up and screwed around to look at his son as the boy threw himself into the wagon.
"Bye, Julian!" the twins called as the dashed off in response to their father's call.
"See ya, fellas!" Julian called after them, pointedly avoiding his own father's eye.
After a moment of silence, George asked softly, "Julian, you gonna help Miss Lucy into her wagon?"
George knew and approved of his youngest son's close friendship with Lucy. He considered it both a gentling and strengthing relationship and he encouraged his son in treating Lucy like a lady--from opening doors for her to helping her into wagons.
Lucy looked up with a smile, thinking that now that the Goodman boys had gone that "her" Julian as he was frequently thought of, would return to his normal self. She almost immediately dissolved into tears as the boy retorted, after a fleeting glance from his father to Lucy, "No."
Astounded, George exclaimed, "Julian!"
He opened his mouth to say more, but quickly closed it again. A rather Bartholomew-esque expression had settled onto Julian's features. Besides, George suddenly realized what had happened right under his very nose.
Thinking is wisest to let the topic drop for the moment, George instead leaped from his wagon and boosted Lucy into her father's. He whispered to her gently, "It'll be alright, Lucy...you'll see."
He stood there, holding her petite little hands until Philip arrived followed by the rest of the family. Mr. and Mrs. James took in the scene wordlessly. Sullen-faced Julian seated hunched over and half-turned away in one wagon, teary-eyed Lucy clinging to Mr. Burke's big, comforting hand in the other.
Philip raised a questioning eyebrow at George as he leaned in, asking, "What happened?"
"Some sort of childish spat," was the rejoinder.
Lucy was only partly comforted on the way home, as she rode with her head in Mama's lap. She felt Julian had betrayed her and that was unforgivable!
Resolved, she murmured, tears squeezing out, "Never! I'll never speak to him again!"
Loretta and Philip made startled eye-contact over their daughter's head. This was serious...
A few days later, Loretta asked Lucy, "Would you like to help with the mending?"
Lucy smiled; she liked stitching. "Oh yes, Mama!"
As Loretta laid out the things that needed mending and patching, Lucy's eyes narrowed. She pointed to a small pair of brown britches with a middling-sized rip in the left knee.
"I just won't fix those."
Loretta looked at her daughter.
"But those are Julian's, Lucy! You always want to mend his things."
Lucy's lip quivered momentarily, then she drew her frail-looking little personage up in such a fashion that would have been amusing if the reasons behind the action hadn't been so distressing.
"I know they're-they're...his," she paused for a moment and drew herself up even further if it could have been possible, "which is why I will not do them."
Loretta sighed and sat down; she had yet to get the story of what had really happened from this indignant little girl. Apparently, Mr. Burke had had the same trouble with his generally compliant son.
She reached out and took her daughter by the shoulders and drew her between her knees.
"Lucy," she lifted the girl's chin, "Lucy, what happened between you and Julian? You two are such good friends!"
Lucy tucked her chin in and didn't budge. Sensing that the more pressure she put on her, the worse she'd get, Loretta dropped the subject and handed her daughter Bartholomew's shirt--he'd somehow managed to cleanly rip the sleeve nearly off. She said lightly, but with troubled eyes, "Bart sure has a knack for things, doesn't he?"
Picking up Julian's trousers, she left Lucy stitching on Bartholomew's sleeve and headed out to find her husband.
Lucy smiled; she liked stitching. "Oh yes, Mama!"
As Loretta laid out the things that needed mending and patching, Lucy's eyes narrowed. She pointed to a small pair of brown britches with a middling-sized rip in the left knee.
"I just won't fix those."
Loretta looked at her daughter.
"But those are Julian's, Lucy! You always want to mend his things."
Lucy's lip quivered momentarily, then she drew her frail-looking little personage up in such a fashion that would have been amusing if the reasons behind the action hadn't been so distressing.
"I know they're-they're...his," she paused for a moment and drew herself up even further if it could have been possible, "which is why I will not do them."
Loretta sighed and sat down; she had yet to get the story of what had really happened from this indignant little girl. Apparently, Mr. Burke had had the same trouble with his generally compliant son.
She reached out and took her daughter by the shoulders and drew her between her knees.
"Lucy," she lifted the girl's chin, "Lucy, what happened between you and Julian? You two are such good friends!"
Lucy tucked her chin in and didn't budge. Sensing that the more pressure she put on her, the worse she'd get, Loretta dropped the subject and handed her daughter Bartholomew's shirt--he'd somehow managed to cleanly rip the sleeve nearly off. She said lightly, but with troubled eyes, "Bart sure has a knack for things, doesn't he?"
Picking up Julian's trousers, she left Lucy stitching on Bartholomew's sleeve and headed out to find her husband.
Philip leaned on his hoe, watching his wife's face as she spoke, hands busy with a brown pant leg.
"Lucy is usually such a gentle child. I've never seen her behave like this before, subborn and unresponsive. She is normal in every other way, but bring up Julian and she gets this look in her eye--I don't exactly understand that look..."
Philip shook his head, "L'etta, children's quarrels have a way of unraveling themselves. Now, that isn't to excuse either Julian or Lucy's sinful behavior--there is some on both sides; I'm sure of it. But, at this point, it seems the best thing to do is not speak of Julian any more or any less than usual, and not to feed whatever is going on inside Lucy by pandering to her feelings. Life is normal as far as we're concerned--that is not to say we don't watch and listen and encourage or correct at the time it is called for, but I don't think we should appear to be edgy on the subject of Julian."
Loretta sighed, then smiled slightly, "I believe you are right, Philip...but do you know how hard it is for a mother not to know what is going on exactly and being unable to fix it??"
Philip chuckled and kissed his wife's cheek before returning to his hoing. He watched her head back to the house over his hoe handle, smiling.
"Lucy is usually such a gentle child. I've never seen her behave like this before, subborn and unresponsive. She is normal in every other way, but bring up Julian and she gets this look in her eye--I don't exactly understand that look..."
Philip shook his head, "L'etta, children's quarrels have a way of unraveling themselves. Now, that isn't to excuse either Julian or Lucy's sinful behavior--there is some on both sides; I'm sure of it. But, at this point, it seems the best thing to do is not speak of Julian any more or any less than usual, and not to feed whatever is going on inside Lucy by pandering to her feelings. Life is normal as far as we're concerned--that is not to say we don't watch and listen and encourage or correct at the time it is called for, but I don't think we should appear to be edgy on the subject of Julian."
Loretta sighed, then smiled slightly, "I believe you are right, Philip...but do you know how hard it is for a mother not to know what is going on exactly and being unable to fix it??"
Philip chuckled and kissed his wife's cheek before returning to his hoing. He watched her head back to the house over his hoe handle, smiling.
Two weeks had passed since the "incident". Julian Burke and Lucy James had not spoken a single word to each other and had both tried very hard to appear not to have been stealing hopeful glances at each other.
The day was bright and the usual post-worship racket was abroad as children released their wiggles. Julian was playing marbles with Billy and Walt, his brown britches neatly mended. He had at least pretended to be pleased that Lucy had not fixed them, though George suspected that he was actually disappointed.
If Lucy noticed Julian and his friends as she stepped by, she made as though she didn't.
Suddenly, Mr. Hooper's vicious guard dog, somehow having slipped his chain, growled into the church-yard. Lucy nearly walked smack-dab into him, having been too busy keeping her chin in the air to see where she was going.
For just a second, she stood there, eyes wide in terror. As the dog lunged, Lucy wheeled and ran as hard as she could for the nearest tree, screaming at the top of her lungs.
"PAPA!!!!"
Seeing Julian out of the corner of her eye, on his feet and wearing a look of horror on his face, she screamed, "Julian!! HELP me!!!"
She reached the little tree and threw herself upward with a strength she usually wouldn't have and somehow managed to heave herself up.
Meanwhile, Julian had spun on his teasing chums and snapped, "Oh, knock it off!"
Stunned, they fell into silence as gentle Julian barrelled head-on toward the big dog, his voice pitched into a scream of rage.
Both Mr. James and Mr. Hooper were on their way across the yard when a little brown streak passed in front of them.
George Burke lunged across the yard to intercept his son, but before he could reach him, the dog had turned on the boy.
James Hooper bellowed, "Beast!"
The dog stopped, lowering his head and growling, but he didn't move. He stayed there until Hooper hooked a strong hand in his collar and jerked him away from where he crouched two feet from a small, white-faced lad with clenched fists.
Philip snatched his hysterical daughter out of the tree and hugged her to himself, his own eyes damp.
George lifted his boy bodily off the ground and stroked his mussed hair of his taut forehead. The boy looked past his father to Lucy, arms wrapped tightly around Philip's neck.
He licked his lips nervously.
"Lucy? Lucy, you alright?"
Lucy lifted her head and smiled such a happy little smile that Julian's pinched face relaxed. He went limp in his father's arms and dropping his head on George's shoulder, he smiled back.
The day was bright and the usual post-worship racket was abroad as children released their wiggles. Julian was playing marbles with Billy and Walt, his brown britches neatly mended. He had at least pretended to be pleased that Lucy had not fixed them, though George suspected that he was actually disappointed.
If Lucy noticed Julian and his friends as she stepped by, she made as though she didn't.
Suddenly, Mr. Hooper's vicious guard dog, somehow having slipped his chain, growled into the church-yard. Lucy nearly walked smack-dab into him, having been too busy keeping her chin in the air to see where she was going.
For just a second, she stood there, eyes wide in terror. As the dog lunged, Lucy wheeled and ran as hard as she could for the nearest tree, screaming at the top of her lungs.
"PAPA!!!!"
Seeing Julian out of the corner of her eye, on his feet and wearing a look of horror on his face, she screamed, "Julian!! HELP me!!!"
She reached the little tree and threw herself upward with a strength she usually wouldn't have and somehow managed to heave herself up.
Meanwhile, Julian had spun on his teasing chums and snapped, "Oh, knock it off!"
Stunned, they fell into silence as gentle Julian barrelled head-on toward the big dog, his voice pitched into a scream of rage.
Both Mr. James and Mr. Hooper were on their way across the yard when a little brown streak passed in front of them.
George Burke lunged across the yard to intercept his son, but before he could reach him, the dog had turned on the boy.
James Hooper bellowed, "Beast!"
The dog stopped, lowering his head and growling, but he didn't move. He stayed there until Hooper hooked a strong hand in his collar and jerked him away from where he crouched two feet from a small, white-faced lad with clenched fists.
Philip snatched his hysterical daughter out of the tree and hugged her to himself, his own eyes damp.
George lifted his boy bodily off the ground and stroked his mussed hair of his taut forehead. The boy looked past his father to Lucy, arms wrapped tightly around Philip's neck.
He licked his lips nervously.
"Lucy? Lucy, you alright?"
Lucy lifted her head and smiled such a happy little smile that Julian's pinched face relaxed. He went limp in his father's arms and dropping his head on George's shoulder, he smiled back.