This book is about a young boy during the Civil
War who is living in the Ozark Mountains of
Arkansas. He saves his family from jayhawkers.
This book is about a young boy during the Civil
War who is living in the Ozark Mountains of
Arkansas. He saves his family from jayhawkers.
eBook
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Overview
This book is about a young boy during the Civil
War who is living in the Ozark Mountains of
Arkansas. He saves his family from jayhawkers.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781463400699 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | AuthorHouse |
| Publication date: | 06/30/2011 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 48 |
| File size: | 601 KB |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
JOHNNY AND THE JAYHAWKERS
By Carolyn Hackett Tobey
AuthorHouse
Copyright © 2011 Carolyn Hackett TobeyAll right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4634-0067-5
Chapter One
Johnny woke up to the sound of the rooster crowing. He snuggled deeper under the covers, enjoying for a few still moments the softness and warmth of the worn quilts on the bed. Even though he was accustomed to rising early to build a fire in Mama's cook stove for cooking breakfast, and to build up the fire in the fireplace when the weather was cold, he still enjoyed these few quiet moments between the crow of the rooster and the sound of his mother's footsteps. He could smell the faint odor of the apples that they had gathered from their orchard and stored in the back closet. The smell made his stomach growl. He must get up soon, but the bare floor would be cold, for it was late fall in the Ozark Mountains.The cabin was large and the logs well-chinked, but still after the humid Arkansas summer, it took a body awhile to adjust to the cold of fall. The days on the river farm were long, especially when the man of the house was twelve years old. Sometimes the responsibility of the family felt so heavy that Johnny's young shoulders slumped and his brown head dropped, but Grandpa had taught him that a boy would never become a man if he was a quitter.
Today would be a harder day than usual for today was hog-killing day. Mama had been waiting for a letter from Papa. She was hoping that Papa would be home soon to help with the hard work of butchering the hogs. She had gotten the hoped for letter yesterday. Widow Sally from across the river had brought the letter by on a trip back from town. Papa said that he would be home before Thanksgiving.
The Civil War was over in the late spring, and Papa had spent the summer looking for his brother Frank, who had been a prisoner of war in the North. Papa could find no word of where he was or whether he was even alive. Papa did not know, even now, of Grandpa's death, for if he had known, surely he would be home. Papa thought that Grandpa was taking care of his family, when in reality Grandpa was gone from the earth and Johnny was the head of the family.
Yesterday Mama had folded the letter carefully and put it in her apron pocket. She had turned to Johnny and said, "Son, we need to go ahead and kill one of those hogs tomorrow for we need the meat. We will wait till Papa gets home before we kill the rest."
Sally said, "Mary, I would come to help you all tomorrow but I heard in town that jayhawkers have been robbing folks along the river. I heard that they killed a man named Teague over on Archey Creek last week, and held a gun to his son John's head while his little sister was ordered to catch them some chickens to take with them. Can you believe? Killing folks for chickens! I am afraid to be away from home for I have too much stock to lose to those dirty no-goods. Johnny is growing up to be a fine boy. He helped his Grandpa last year didn't he?"
Turning to Johnny, Sally said, "Johnny you can handle it. Can't you, boy? I know it will be hard for just the two of you having to do all the lifting."
"Yes, he did help Paw last year. Johnny is a fine strong boy. We will do fine. Thanks Sally, you are a good neighbor. I don't know what I would have done without you after Paw died. Truly I don't," Mama replied as Sally turned to leave.
As Sally had left on the big roan mare she always rode, Johnny had thought of his Grandpa and his death in the late summer. Johnny still felt the tightness in his throat and the pain in his chest at the thought of his Grandpa. They had been digging late potatoes when his grandpa had taken sick. Mama and the three girls, ten year old Jane, eight year old Lucy, and six year old Nancy, had been following Grandpa's mule and plow, picking up potatoes in buckets.
Johnny had been carrying the buckets of potatoes to the barn and spreading them in the hay when Grandpa had suddenly clutched his chest and fallen to his knees. Johnny had run to Grandpa and he and Mama had together helped and dragged Grandpa to the porch in the shade for sweat was streaming down his face and he was pale.
"Now Johnny, you go take care of that mule," Grandpa gasped as he leaned against Mama. "I am going to go in and lie down and cool off for a bit. Pulling on those plow handles is hard work."
Johnny was not sure what to do but his mother told him to go ahead and unhitch the mule and finish picking up the potatoes they had already turned out.
Johnny had been surprised to find the girls busy picking up potatoes in the buckets he had left in the barn. The mule was even tied to a tree at the far side of the potato patch. Johnny had asked, "Jane, how did you manage to get that mule over there? Usually he heads for the river as soon as he gets loose from the plow."
Jane replied, "I didn't, Nancy did. Is Grandpa any better?" Her voice trembled and Johnny knew she had been crying.
Johnny told her that he thought he was better and hitched the mule to the plow and finished turning out the potatoes. They didn't even stop for lunch but continued working quietly until all the potatoes were in the barn.
Johnny took the mule to the river to water him rather than take the time to draw water for him to drink. He thought that Grandpa would be glad the potatoes were in and now there would be no fuss about Grandpa helping them tomorrow.
The girls had gotten water from the tub by the well where water had been warming in the sun for baths at night. Jane and Nancy had carried two buckets to the bench in the dogtrot hall and had washed their faces and hands and helped silent Lucy wash too. It was seldom that Lucy was quiet and the silence was strange for washing up time was usually one of the noisiest times of the day. The girls always giggled and talked but today they were quiet even as Jane poured the water over their feet.
Johnny had done the same and then they had tiptoed to Mama's bedroom and looked in. Grandpa looked like he was asleep, but they knew from the look on Mama's face that something was terribly wrong. While they had worked in the hot sun, Grandpa had died there in the shade.
Chapter Two
Johnny knew that he should get up, but he still continued to lie there quietly in the faint light of dawn, remembering that day as he often did when he first opened his blue eyes and saw that empty bunk where his Grandpa once slept. Some days his heart still felt as empty as that bunk, but Mama kept telling him that Grandpa would not want him to keep on grieving. Mama said that Grandpa's constant concern had been his family and keeping them all warm, safe, and happy. He would want Johnny to smile again. Now it was Johnny's job to keep the family warm, safe, and happy, but it was real hard for him to smile.That day last summer Johnny had returned to the house to find that while he and the girls were working, Grandpa had died. Mama had gone to the well for a fresh bucket of water for Grandpa to have a cool drink. When she returned he had stopped breathing and stopped living.
There was no need for asking the why of it, for that's what Grandpa said about Grandma's death three winters ago from pneumonia. Grandma had died in the late winter before Papa had gone away to war, "a poor man drafted to fight a rich man's war" was what Grandpa said. That had been a sad and painful time for the whole family.
In the late evening after the chores were done Johnny had often seen Grandpa come down the hill from the family cemetery on the hill above the orchard, with tears on his wrinkled cheeks. Johnny was only nine years old when Grandma died and he missed her too. He could remember he and Jane sitting on Grandma's bed looking at old photographs and cards that she kept in bundles tied with ribbons, and stored in a trunk at the foot of her bed. She was always soft and smelled of lavender and medicine. Grandpa would often come in and say, "Maggie, you are tiring yourself out with these scamps. You two get to bed. Morning comes early on an Arkansas farm."
Grandma, with her gentle voice and smile, would always be a part of Johnny's memory, but Grandpa and Johnny were a team. They worked together and went to sleep in the same room every night. With Papa gone to war, Johnny needed Grandpa to help him keep up the chores and his spirits.
Johnny could still remember the ride to Sally's place across the river that sad evening last summer. He remembered the way the no-nonsense Sally returned with him to help Mama. He remembered the ride in the dark to the Murray place down the river. Mr. Murray and his Grandpa had been good friends. The Murray family helped them build the log house and the barn. Grandpa and Papa often returned the work by helping the Murrays with building too. That was before the war though, now only Mr. and Mrs. Murray were at their homestead. Folks said that one of the Murray boys was fighting for the Union and the others for the Confederacy. That didn't make sense to Johnny, but Grandpa had said that wars never make sense.
Mr. Murray told Johnny that he would build a pine coffin for Grandpa and come in the morning to help with the burying. Johnny was relieved for he had been such a green kid that he hadn't even thought about a coffin. Carpentry work had been one thing Grandpa had not taught Johnny much about.
That night last summer when Johnny returned home he could smell the odors of the meat frying in the kitchen. It smelled so good for Johnny had not eaten since breakfast. Mama sat in her rocker by the window with her eyes closed and her Bible open in her lap. She was rocking back and forth with tears quietly running down her face. Grandpa had once said that women leaked with real regularity, but Johnny had never seen so many tears.
Johnny would never forget the pain on Mama's face as she stood and took him in her arms after he had finished eating. They held each other, and Johnny realized that he was as tall as his mama. He told her about what Mr. Murray had said about the coffin and coming in the morning.
Johnny had never really taken a shine to Sally before Grandpa died, for she was so different from his mama. Sally was big-boned, dark, and seemed to talk too loud. She wore a man's dark felt hat and usually a man's pants and shirt as well. Johnny had even seen her a few times wear a pearl-handled pistol on a gun belt around her waist. Grandpa had said the Lord made each of us different for whatever we needed to do in life. Since Sally had ended up losing her husband early in life and having no children, it was good she was strong enough to take care of herself.
That night Johnny appreciated her strength for she had helped his Mama wash and dress Grandpa, while Johnny had slept on through that night in his empty room. Those painful days were a blur now. Several neighbors had come the next day for Grandpa's funeral up on the hill.
Mama had lined the pine box that Mr. Murray brought with one of Grandma's pretty worn quilts. Mr. Murray read some scriptures from the Bible, said what a fine man Grandpa was, and led them in singing some song that Johnny hadn't heard since Grandma died.
After the funeral, and everyone had eaten the food they had brought, they had all gone home to feed their animals and do their chores, but Sally had stayed late into the night. Some of the neighbors had gone to do Sally's chores. Johnny could hardly remember sleeping, eating, and doing chores through the rest of the long hot summer.
Johnny remembered how he had gone to the shoal in the river and chosen a large stone to make Grandpa a headstone and spent many September evenings carving Grandpa's name on it for the cemetery. There seemed so little he could do. He hadn't even told Grandpa goodbye, because he was such a green kid that he hadn't known that he would just die like that. Now it was too late. He had not told his baby sister and baby brother goodbye either, but they were just born and wouldn't have understood goodbye. Grandma had been sick for so long that Johnny kissed her every night and told her that he loved her.
Even though he had only been nine, he had known that Grandma might not live till spring. Johnny had thought that Grandpa would always be there to teach him and help him. He was glad now that he had always minded Grandpa and tried to learn everything he had tried to teach him.
Because of Grandpa's teaching, he and Mama would be able to do everything today. Grandpa had taught him to shoot squirrels for supper when he was just nine. Grandpa had bragged that Johnny was the best shot in the Ozarks. Johnny knew just how to shoot the pig, just behind the ear, cut its throat, hang it up, gut it, take it down, scald it, rehang it, and put it in the smoke house close behind the house. He knew because his Grandpa had taken the time to teach him last year when they had killed hogs together.
Thank goodness he had watched, listened, helped, and learned. It should be an easy day even for just Johnny, Mama, and the girls. He really wished that Sally could come and help for she was a good help when it came to hard work. Johnny had come to like and respect her differences.
Chapter Three
Johnny wondered as he pulled on his socks, and then pants over long underwear, if Grandpa had known that he was going to die and leave Johnny when he had been so careful to teach him last year at this time. Well, no time to ponder on it, for he had lots of work to do. It seemed that there was always work to do. Sometimes he longed for the days when he and Grandpa had gone down to the river to fish together, or up in the hills to hunt for squirrels or bee trees. Getting honey had seemed so simple with Grandpa, but he and Mama had gotten stung several times when they had gotten honey this year.Johnny could hear Mama in the kitchen already. She was softly humming as she built a fire in the kitchen stove. Her auburn hair was gathered in a knot at the top of her head but as always, stray curls escaped and fell around her neck. Johnny was always amazed that his mother could build a fire in the cook stove without smoking up the kitchen while no matter how he stacked the kindling, he always got some smoke in the kitchen before he could get the lid back on the stove. Grandpa would have called him a "lazy-lay-abed" for letting his mother do his work for him while he lay in his bed dreaming and remembering. He knew that his mother was anxious to get started on the day's work and he knew that she depended on him to work like a man.
"Mama, I'm sorry that I am so slow this morning. Sure is cold in here, it will be a good day for hog killing," Johnny said as he put his hands close to the stove to warm them.
"I'm glad you got my long underwear out of the trunk, but they are almost too tight to get on. You must have washed them in hot water for they have shrunk up a lot," Johnny continued. "I think I may have to hand them down to Jane."
Mama laughed and said, "Morning, Johnny, you have just grown a lot since last year. I'll do the stove. You'd better get on out and start drawing water for the wash pot. We'll need a lot of water today, and wood too. You know how hot the water needs to be to scald the hog. After you get the pot started heating, hook the mule to the sled and drag that barrel from behind the smokehouse to that old oak tree near the well and then ..."
"I know Mama, Grandpa taught me well last year. I'll get the single-tree to hang the hog. I cleaned and oiled the gun last night and I think we are ready. I've got extra shot in my vest pockets, and I sharpened the knives for scraping," Johnny replied as he went out the door into the dogtrot hallway.
"Call me for breakfast when it is ready. Make sure Lucy puts Ole Henry on the chain for he will just get in the way today," Johnny called as he hurried out the door and across the backyard. Ole Henry was a good watchdog but sometimes he could really get in the way.
Johnny quickly drew water from the well and poured it into the wash pot near the well. He got wood from the woodyard and built a fire under the wash pot where his mother heated water every Monday for washing the family clothes. When Papa and Grandpa had been here they had always killed the hogs two at a time, but one would be all he and mama could handle today. When the wash pot was full, he drew more water in all the buckets for washing down the hog after it was gutted.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from JOHNNY AND THE JAYHAWKERS by Carolyn Hackett Tobey Copyright © 2011 by Carolyn Hackett Tobey. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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