No. 51

The Elders in 1852 & Gold Rush

Dear Stewart,

Charles told me that growing up as the youngest child provided a view of a kind of theater. He had a terrific view and never had to buy a ticket. Sometimes, he said, they didn’t even know he was there. From where he sat, he learned which tone worked on their faces and which jab caused a switch to be thrown.

He could also blend, even disappear, when his father was getting that look about his forehead that he was ready to assign chores.

Charles said he was very good at forecasting the moods of his parents, he was much better than the girls, who were lost in their fabrics and superfluous details that it would make the sensitive type seasick, but Charles never got seasick, ever, not once.

He learned to avoid the worst of the drama and bolt. He was mostly on the move. He was fast!

Occasionally, though, Charles did get stuck in a tight spot. One day Charles was 8 years old and blended so well that after he settled into the back of the huge desk, he knew it was wrong and never did it again. So badly did he not want to overhear the vile and filth coming from Hank as he challenged their father over this issue. On the day that he turned 18, he announced he was leaving for Australia.

Even though their father had just bought the mill and new equipment was on the evening train about to arrive, Hank didn’t want that line of work.

This slam, this jab, well even Charles understood the weight of it but just like that, Hank left. The old man just sat back down, not moving to rush after him.

Charles could not move, either, due to his being stuck behind the furniture, foot falling asleep, his elbow flaring up, my father there, still at his desk, not moving one inch to stop Henry.

His father happened to be only half-dressed, shirtless, so he must have followed Hank into the room in the heat of debate. Charles saw his bare arms with muscles tight but his face sunk in, sour and aged, as if he had been punched. Henry Brother then dropping his face into his hands. But God still not moving. Then, as if a switch flipped over, his father threw back his chair, sat up, and headed out.

Charles was now barely able to rise of out his jam, but he limped out the house and ran to the depot. There he chases after the train taking Hank. Next to him was his schoolmate, Joe Rodgers, who was waving his way. As Charles rushed, he waved and waved and called out to Hank. What relief when Hank finally saw Charles, and waved back, calling out with cupped hands something Charles could not make out.

-- Miss Minnie