Bumpy Ride Ahead! (7 page)

“That’s right, so now let’s think of somethin’ else we can do that’ll be fun.”

Mark took a seat on a bale of straw and made little circles across his forehead as he thought and thought. He couldn’t think of one single thing he wanted to do, other than going for a ride in John’s pony cart.

Mark sat there awhile, and then he stood. “You know, I think it’s time for me to go home.”

John’s dark eyebrows shot way up. “What? You just got here, and we haven’t done anything but sit and talk.”

Mark released a noisy yawn. “I know, but I’m feelin’ kind of tired. Think I’ll go home and take a
gern.
“

“If you want to take a nap, that’s fine with me, because you obviously didn’t come over here to play.” Mark could tell by the scowl on John’s face that he wasn’t happy about Mark leaving. But why should he stick around here when he was so bored? Didn’t he have the right to go home?

“I’ll see you at church tomorrow morning,” Mark said. Then he turned and sprinted in the direction of home.

He’d only made it halfway there when that same big black shaggy dog that had caused so much trouble at their stand a few weeks ago came running out of the woods.
Woof! Woof!
It chased after Mark, barking and swishing its tail. Mark didn’t know if the dog was mean or just wanted to play, but he didn’t stick around to find out. Panting for breath, he ran even faster. When the dog’s barking quieted, Mark glanced over his shoulder. He didn’t see any sign of the mutt, but he kept running, just in case. Who knew where that dog came from anyway? Surely it couldn’t belong to anyone. If it did, then the owners didn’t take very good care of their pet.

Mark was nearing his driveway when he tripped on a rock and dropped to the ground. He winced when he saw that the rock he’d fallen on had torn a hole in his trousers and scraped his knee.

Mark clambered to his feet and limped the rest of the way home. He’d just started up the driveway when Calvin came along, swinging his fishing pole and whistling a merry tune. “Grandpa and I both caught plenty of fish today,” he said, smiling at Mark. “But I must say, he was disappointed that you didn’t come along.”

“I wish now that I had,” Mark said with a moan. “Instead of takin’ a ride in John’s pony cart like I’d hope, I ended up with a scraped knee and a hole in my pants!”

Calvin put his hand on Mark’s shoulder. “I hope you learned a lesson today. When someone invites you to go someplace and you say you will, then you shouldn’t change your mind at the last minute and do something else that you think will be more fun.”

Mark gave a quick nod. But then as he thought more about it, he figured if they just could have hitched John’s new pony to the cart, he wouldn’t be so miserable right now.

When Mark and Calvin stepped onto the porch, Mark was surprised to see Mattie there with splotches of flour all over her dress. “What happened to you?” he asked.

Mattie explained that she’d taken some flour to Grandma, and that even though Grandma had asked her stay, she’d decided to go home. Then as she was carrying the rest of the flour home, she’d tripped and lost the whole bag. “Think I ended up with most of it on me,” she muttered, motioning to her dress.

Mark chuckled, and Calvin laughed out loud. “You look like you’ve been caught in a snowstorm,” Calvin said.

“It’s not funny.” Mattie frowned as she brushed at the flour. Then looking back at Mark, she pointed to the hole in his trousers. “What happened to you?”

“Remember the mutt that caused all the trouble at our roadside stand awhile back?”

Mattie nodded.

“Well, the mutt started chasin’ me as I was comin’ back from John’s, and when I fell, I tore a hole in my trousers.” Mark grunted. “Made me wish I’d gone fishin’ today instead of goin’ over to John’s.”

“You’d have been better off,” Calvin said. “You would have been holdin’ a bucket of fish right now if you had.” He looked first at Mark and then at Mattie. “You both might have had a better day if you’d thought of others instead of yourselves.”

C
HAPTER
7

The following Saturday turned out to be a pretty autumn day, so Dad announced during breakfast that morning that today was going to be their yearly walnut-picking day. Every year in the fall, one of the many things they liked to do as a family was to gather nuts for the upcoming holiday baking season. Luckily, there happened to be a black walnut tree a little ways down the road in a meadow between the Millers’ place and the Shrocks’. Since Mark and his best friend, John Schrock, had walked back and forth to and from each other’s home whenever they met to play, Mark knew exactly where that walnut tree was. He also knew after the last time he’d been to John’s that the tree was loaded with walnuts this year. Some were on the ground, and some still clung to the branches.

Mark and Mattie loved to pick walnuts with their family and looked forward to it every autumn. Mark knew that Mattie preferred to wear the gloves Mom would hand out to keep fingers clean, but Mark liked to get his fingers all stained from the walnuts’ juice. Not all the walnuts still had the green hull on the outer layer. As the black walnuts ripened, the husks changed from solid green to yellowish green, and the skins softened, sometimes leaking the dark liquid from inside. Those were the ones you had to watch out for when you went to pick them up.

As soon as breakfast was over, the whole family, except for Ike, headed out. Ike had gone to his girlfriend Catherine’s house today to help her family make apple butter. Mom had packed a bunch of paper bags and put them in her canvas satchel, and when they reached the old walnut tree, she handed each family member a paper sack.

“Make sure, now,” Dad instructed, “that you don’t overload your bag and make it too heavy to lift. Only pick as many walnuts as you can carry home.”

Even little Ada was old enough this year to get in on the act. This was a new experience for her, and she was so excited to help pick the nuts, along with her older brothers and sister, that she kept waving her hands and hollering, “
Walnuss!
Walnuss!”

“Look at all these walnuts!” Mattie exclaimed, pointing at the ones scattered all over the ground. “There must be over a hundred of ’em layin’ here, and that’s not countin’ the ones still hanging on the branches.”

“I remember last year this tree didn’t produce nearly as many walnuts, but I read that there are usually two good nut crops out of every five years,” Dad said, bending over to pick up some walnuts.

“That’s interesting,” Mattie said as she began filling her sack. “I’m surprised the squirrels haven’t taken any of these yet.”

“Did ya know that black walnut trees can live to be over two hundred years old?” Mark announced.

“Well, this one must be at least fifty years old ’cause just look how tall it is!” Mattie tipped her head way back and stared up at the tree. “I’ll bet if we climbed up to that highest branch, we could see all of Walnut Creek from up there.”

“Now don’t get any ideas about climbing the tree,” Mom warned. “That could be dangerous.”

“I know this tree has to be over ten years old ’cause that’s when they start producing nuts,” Mark said. “And look how many years we’ve been comin’ here to collect ’em.”

“How do you know all this stuff about walnut trees?” Calvin asked. He, too, didn’t wear gloves, and his fingers were already turning a brown stain color.

“I read a lot,” Mark answered. “If ya ever wanna know something about anything, just ask ’cause I might have read about it and can answer your questions.”

“That’s right, I forgot you’re the curious one in the family,” Russell teased, lifting Mark’s straw hat off his head and then flopping it back down.

“Hey now, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to learn about things,” Dad said, joining the boys on the other side of the tree.

“And you are never too old to ask questions about something either,” Mom added, watching as Ada put another walnut into her bag.

Mark stopped to watch little Ada, too. She sure looked like she was having fun filling up her bag with walnuts. Each one she picked up she’d say, “Look, Mamm. I found another walnuss!”

“I found one that’s open, and look here … there’s a white worm inside!” Perry announced, looking rather pleased with himself.

“Just toss it aside,” Dad said. “We don’t want any wormy nuts.”

Perry looked a bit disappointed, but he did as Dad asked.

“I wish Ike were here with us,” Mark grumbled to Mattie as they continued to fill their bags with nuts. “He’s missin’ out on all the family fun just to be with Catherine.” Mark had always looked up to his big brother. The last couple of years Ike had paid special attention to Mark, and they’d gotten especially close. At least they had until he’d started seeing Catherine. This was the first year Ike hadn’t joined the family to pick walnuts.

Mattie leaned down and wiped the dark stain from a walnut on the meadow grass. “Good thing I’m wearing somethin’ on my hands. Look how my gloves are getting stained already.”

“I like the stain.” Mark held up his black hands and grinned.

“You would—you’re a boy.”

Ignoring the remark, Mark thought about Ike again and wondered,
What’s so great about making apple butter? This is more fun anyways.

When they got home later that day, Dad instructed everyone to empty their bag of walnuts into the wheelbarrow that was still sitting at the back of the house from the leaf-raking cleanup. Until most of the leaves fell off the branches, raking and picking them up was an ongoing project during the months of autumn, but now, with only a leaf or two still hanging on, and all the rest of the leaves gathered up, the wheelbarrow could be used for something else.

“Mark, after you wash up and change your clothes,” Dad said, “I’d like you to push the wheelbarrow into the barn so I can put the walnuts in a big tub of water.”

“Okay, Dad,” Mark replied, walking into the house. He remembered from years past and from reading about it, that floating the walnuts in water was an easy way to separate the hulls from the hard shell inside. The hulls would float, but the nuts wouldn’t. Mark had also heard that some English folks spread the walnuts out on a driveway, and when they drove over the nuts with their vehicles, it quickly shelled off the hulls.

“Hey, Mattie,” Mark yelled across the hall from his room. “Do ya wanna help me push the wheelbarrow into the barn when I go back outside?”

“No, that’s okay. I’m gonna stay here and play with my
bopp.
“

Mark went downstairs wondering why his sister would want to spend such a nice day inside playing with her doll. But then, he wasn’t a girl so he couldn’t really understand why Mattie did many things that he would never do.

Once outside, he walked to the back of the house where the wheelbarrow sat, now full of walnuts. He was about ready to take them over to the other side of the house where the barn was when he noticed something hopping by his foot. Looking down, he spotted a frog.

Oh wow
, he thought.
That sure looks like a wood frog to me. I never expected to see any frogs this time of year.

The wood frog was a brownish-tan frog, and it was easy to tell what kind it was because of the bandit-looking patch that extended from its nose and across its eyes, almost giving it a raccoon look. Mark thought it was so amazing when he’d once learned that wood frogs are capable of freezing completely solid to survive the winter. During this period, the frog’s breathing, blood flow, and heartbeat actually stop. And unlike most other frogs, the wood frog spends almost its entire life on the ground. In the winter, it hibernates by burrowing under the ground.

“I’ve just gotta catch that frog,” Mark said as he watched it hop away. He thought it would be great to put the frog in his toad house. Maybe the critter would burrow under the toad house and hibernate this winter in “Mattie’s Corner.” He couldn’t wait to tell Mattie that a frog might be spending the winter in her flower bed, but first he’d have to catch that old bandit-looking frog.

That evening after dark when everyone was sitting in the living room, the Miller family enjoyed talking about the fun day they’d had together.

Calvin, Russell, and Mark compared their fingers to see whose had gotten the most walnut stained. Mattie, rolling her eyes at her brothers, was glad that her fingers were still nice and clean.

“How’d the walnut picking go today?” Ike asked when he returned from Catherine’s that evening.

“Real well,” Dad answered. “We got a lot of nuts we can use during the winter months.”

“And how was your day, Ike?” Mom asked.

“It was great! As you know, Catherine is the youngest of the four
kinner
in her family. And since she’s the only girl, her three older brothers were keeping an eye on me. Not that they had to, though.” Ike chuckled. “Anyways, it was interesting to help Catherine’s family make apple butter.”

Mom smiled. “I enjoy making apple butter, too, and let’s not forget the apple cider.”

“Say, Mark,” Dad said. “Did you put the walnuts in the barn like I asked you to when we got home this afternoon?”

“Uh-oh!” Mark slapped his forehead. “I went out to do that, but I found this neat-looking wood frog. It took me awhile to catch the critter ’cause it kept hoppin’ away from me. Then when I did finally catch it, I put it in the toad house in Mattie’s garden.”

Mark proceeded to tell his family all about wood frogs until Dad interrupted him and said, “Well, son, that’s interesting, but I want you to make sure you get those walnuts moved into the barn first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Sorry I forgot, Dad. I promise I’ll take care of it as soon as I’m up and dressed.”