The Wishing Well

By James E. Livingston

Timothy Legget, 12, was forced to grow up quickly living in Appleton, Kentucky, caring for his younger sister, Lisa. Their parents, Jan and Justin, were impoverished coal miners working in one of the local mines near their home. On October 5, 1901, tragedy struck their family. Timothy and Lisa are sent to Jasper, Virginia to live with their aunt-Martha Satcher. They arrive in Jasper late one night, only to discover that their Aunt Martha is not home. Timothy explores the house and finds it empty of most everything. Timothy considers this to be very strange and out of character for his Aunt. Suddenly, reality overwhelms him he is in a strange town, caring for his younger sister, with neither friends nor relatives, and returning home is not an option. Without relatives, he and Lisa could be mistaken for orphans and placed in an orphanage-where there would be little hope of ever returning home.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Oct 29, 2002
• ISBN: 9781469768366

James E. Livingston

James Livingston lives in Houston, Texas. He works as a Senior Manager for an oil and gas service provider where he has been employed for the past 27 years. This is James' first novel and he plans to continue pursuing his passion for writing.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

It was Friday evening, November 1, 1901 as Timothy Legget and his younger sister Lisa continued their slow walk down the deserted dirt road. It was very dark; the sun had set nearly two hours earlier. A slight wind blew that chilled the air, making for a very cold evening. A cat ran in front of their path some distance away, carrying something in her mouth.

Timmy, what’s she carryin’?

Food—she probably has babies to feed, Timothy replied.

Even animals are being fed this night, he thought.

Timmy, I’m cold, said Lisa.

Yeah. I know. We’re close to Aunt Martha’s house and then we’ll be warm and we’ll have something to eat, Timothy replied.

Timmy, is Aunt Martha rich?

Yeah, richer than us, anyway.

Timothy and Lisa continued their walk; all the while Timothy hoped and prayed that he would soon see something, anything familiar, to confirm their location.

Timothy and Lisa wore very little clothing, certainly not adequate enough to keep them warm from the chilled wind, which began to blow harder, making the weather even colder.

Lisa was four years old and had been for the most part, raised by her brother Timothy. Timothy was twelve—by age, yet nearing the maturity of many that were several years his senior. Lisa had essentially been Timothy’s responsibility since her birth, which contributed to his rapid maturing.

Their parents worked at Adkins Mining Company, an Appalachian coalmine, and earned very little. They were paid weekly, in script. Being paid in script forced them to purchase their goods from the company owned store, Adkins General Store, where script from the Adkins Mine was acceptable trade. What little wage they did earn was barely sufficient to support one person, much less four. There never seemed to be enough food for the family, and the only clothes they owned were made from bits and pieces others had thrown away.

Their home consisted of one room. The room contained a small table, near the center, surrounded by four chairs, all of which were handmade. The fireplace was located on the back wall opposite the front door, where all of their meals were prepared. A small table was placed on the right side of the chimney, holding a small tin basin where the dishes were washed. The cracks in the walls were quite noticeable, and large enough to allow many insects access to the inside. During the winter months, Justin, their father, would stuff the holes with discarded newspaper for insulation against the bitter cold of the outside. The floor was dirt and always seemed cold.

Sleeping accommodations consisted of a single bed near the fireplace, and to the left of the small table. During the winter, the entire family slept together in that bed. During the warmer, hotter months, the two children slept on the floor using discarded burlap sacks as bedding material.

Timmy, are we almost there?

Lisa, get quiet! It’s late and most folks ‘round here are in bed. Now hush!

I know they are ‘cause that’s where I wish’d I was.

Lisa’s legs could barely carry her small frame; she lagged several steps behind. Timothy, getting more anxious with each step, picked Lisa up and placed her on his back piggyback style, and carried her.

As they walked, he continued to look for familiar landmarks, but found none.

Once again, it began to snow, light flakes, but still snow nonetheless. They had been in this type of weather since daybreak, with very little to eat. Timothy realized that Lisa needed food and shelter.

Oh dear God, please help me find Aunt Martha, he silently prayed.

Had Aunt Martha received his letter? He thought.

Timothy continued onward and began to recall all that had happened in the past few weeks. Their mother had fallen ill and was unable to work in the mine. There was no doctor in their small mining town, and even if there was…there was no money to pay for such services. Their mother, Jan, had been sick for nearly a month, barely able to leave her bed during that time. Their father tended to her needs whenever he wasn’t working. This left Timothy to help his sick mother, and to care for Lisa most of the time. Timothy had held his mother’s hand when she passed away.

Timothy’s mother taught him well. When she fell ill, realizing her life was coming to a close, she prepared Timothy for the worst. She had explained to Timothy that God sometimes calls a person to be with Him sooner than they expect. She told Timothy that she felt God would be calling her soon and that when He did, Timothy would have to be strong, for Lisa’s sake. Less than thirty days ago on Saturday, October 5, 1901, God called his mother.

Timothy continued, pressing forward. The road was wet with fresh fallen snow, and was very slippery. The road turned slightly and began to incline. Timothy, still carrying Lisa, slipped and fell. They were covered with cold mud and wet snow. Lisa skinned her knee during the fall and began to cry.

Hey, shut up out there! someone yelled from their home.

A dog barked some distance ahead, and then another dog barked some distance behind them, and before long other dogs had joined in the chorus.

Get quiet! someone else yelled from their window.

Frantically, Timothy helped Lisa up and ran, carrying her in his arms, down the road through town.

As he ran he noticed a store that looked very familiar. Looking at the sign above the store it read Ben Gordon’s General Store. Timothy remembered that Aunt Martha’s house was only a few miles from this store.

As he walked passed the store, he noticed a piece of paper flapping in the chilled breeze. The paper had wedged itself at the threshold, obviously blown there by the wind. Timothy lowered Lisa to the ground. He walked over for a closer examination, removed the paper from its resting place, and silently read the header.

Jasper, Virginia Friday, November 1, 1901

We made good time gettin’ here, he thought.

Lisa, we’re almost there.

Timothy, I’m hungry.

I know you are, and we’ll fix that real soon.

Timothy picked Lisa up and placed her on his back to finish the journey.

They continued for a few more miles and Timothy sensed they were nearing Aunt Martha’s home.

We’re almost there. I can’t believe we’re finally here, he thought.

Timothy continued, getting closer to Aunt Martha’s with each step. Suddenly, he saw a house.

At first, he did not recognize it. As he walked closer, however, the house took on familiar characteristics. He knew it was Aunt Martha’s home.

He opened the gate and walked inside the yard.

That’s strange, Molly did not bark and there are no lights on within the house, he thought.

Molly was Aunt Martha’s hound dog. Timothy remembered Molly being nearly as old as Aunt Martha, and wasn’t good for anything other than barking at strangers. This time, however, there was no bark from Molly.

Timothy stepped up onto the porch, which creaked loudly. Again, Molly did not bark. Without further concern, Timothy knocked lightly on the door and waited. Again he knocked and waited. No one answered. This time he knocked much louder, four times in all…again no answer.

Timothy peered into the small window adjacent to the door. There were no curtains on the window, the window screen was missing, and one of the windowpanes was broken. He cried out through the missing pane,

Aunt Martha. Aunt Martha, it’s me and Lisa.

After a few moments, Timothy tried again. Aunt Martha, are you home?

Timothy removed Lisa from his back and gently placed her on the porch. He took her hand and walked to the back of the house. The back door was missing, leaving the inside of the house exposed to the elements.

Aunt Martha? he called, with his voice quivering.

Lisa, stay right here and don’t move. I’m going inside.

OK.

Timothy cautiously entered the first room…the kitchen.

Aunt Martha, are you here?

He proceeded through the kitchen, into the bedroom, and continued into the parlor where they had first knocked on the door. Aunt Martha was nowhere to be found. The house was bare of belongings—no furniture, no beds, no curtains, no stove, and no table. The house was empty with no signs of a prior occupant.

Timothy retraced his steps, back to Lisa.

Is she here? Lisa asked.

Lisa, Aunt Martha ain’t here. We’ll sleep here, inside, on the floor until morning’.

Timmy, I’m hungry.

I know but I can’t do nothin’ ‘bout that. Now come on, Timothy snapped.

Timothy, holding Lisa’s hand, walked her to the parlor. He removed his sweater and laid Lisa down for the night, covering her with his tattered sweater.

Timmy, you keep it. I’m not cold she lied.

Nah, you use it, I’m not cold either, he lied.

As Timothy sat down beside Lisa, he stared at her. Lisa had not asked to come into this world, yet she was here.

Why, if she had to be born, was she born into our family? We’re poor and we can’t give her the things she really needs, he thought.

As he sat there, thinking of Lisa, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for her.

What now God? What am I s’posed to do now? He thought.

He drew his knees into his chest and placed his head between them. His thoughts raced back to his mother. She taught him well and raised him to be God fearing. Although she could not read, she could recite most of the Bible from memory, as taught to her by her parents.

Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by a shuffling sound outside. Timothy eased himself toward the window. It was still dark and very cold, but it had stopped snowing. The partial moon emitted enough light to see the trees surrounding Aunt Martha’s house. He heard the shuffling sound again. He strained his eyes in an effort to determine the source of the mysterious sound.

There it is, he thought, just an old cow.

Timothy crawled back to Lisa’s side. It would be dawn soon, and he needed rest. Lisa was sound asleep, and had obviously not been disturbed by the rustling noise of the cow outside. His body exhausted, Timothy fell into a deep sleep.

Timothy slept for only a few hours when he awoke. It was still very early in the morning. He stood and walked to the front door. As he opened the door, it creaked loudly from the cold but it did not disturb Lisa’s sound sleep.

Timothy walked outside. The sky seemed to celebrate with all its color and splendor. As Timothy stood on the porch gazing out, he could now see objects that appeared so frightening just a few hours earlier. He saw the rustic picket fence surrounding the house, and the shrubs that took on such an eerie profile earlier. He walked to the edge of the porch where he took notice of the large trees that surrounded the entire house.

Timothy walked down the front steps and continued toward the back of house. As he walked, he noticed something strange. It wasn’t what he saw that seemed strange, but rather what he didn’t see that seemed so very odd. There were no chickens. Aunt Martha always had chickens. Then he remembered Molly. Molly also was not there. There were no animals to be seen or heard, not even the cow that had startled him earlier during the night.

He continued toward the back of the house and noticed the barn. He walked beyond the house, past the well toward the back fence. The fence separated the back of the house from the barn. Timothy opened the gate and proceeded toward the barn.

The large doors of the barn were open, on both ends of the barn, allowing Timothy to peer right through the barn and glimpse the field behind. The barn was large, with ten stalls, five on each side, and a loft. Inside, he found all the stalls empty. He climbed the ladder leading up into the loft. The loft was also empty, with the exception of a small amount of hay, which had been strewn about. He walked toward the south end of the loft, the end closest to the house, and opened the loft door. Standing in the open door, he viewed the house, the yard, the majestic old trees surrounding the house, the snow covered landscape, and the hills surrounding the farm.

Timmy.

Timmy, Lisa cried.

I’m up here, he yelled.

Timothy saw Lisa walking beside the house toward the barn. She wiped her eyes as she walked.

Stay there. I’m coming down. He shouted.

Timothy closed the small upper door of the loft, and climbed down. As he stepped off the ladder, he saw Lisa standing just inside the barn.

Timmy, where is Aunt Martha? I’m hungry.

I don’t know, and I’m hungry too, he paused. C’mon, let’s go back to the house.

The farm appeared to be deserted. Timothy realized that it had been deserted for quite some time, but chose to keep this fact to himself.

They began to walk toward the house. Timothy looked down at Lisa and took notice of her appearance. Her sandy-blonde hair partially hung in her face, slightly obscuring her bright blue eyes. Her pug nose was red from the cold. Everything she owned, she wore, which wasn’t much. She appeared to be cold; her shoes were tattered and the laces were frayed. Her dress hung well below her knees, and appeared to be a couple sizes too large for her small frame. Looking at Lisa and seeing her in this fashion, broke Timothy’s heart.

Timothy was a stout boy of average height for his age; his blonde hair had not been trimmed in over a year and hung below his ears. His eyes were green, and his stern jaw and square face seemed to add years to his actual age. He was much stronger than boys his own age, and was accustomed to hard work, something he had grown acquainted with living at home with his parents.

Timothy loved his sister. He knew that he had a tremendous responsibility in caring for Lisa. Timothy promised his mother that he would help raise Lisa and help her to make something of her life, something more than she happened to be born into. Timothy was determined to keep that promise, at all costs.

I wonder what Pa is doing? asked Lisa.

He’s probably in the mine by now, answered Timothy.

As they approached the back of the house, Lisa noticed the water well.

I’m thirsty, she said.

They walked over to the well. Timothy found the wooden bucket attached to a rope. He lowered the bucket into the well, but the surface of the well had iced over. He raised the bucket and slammed it into the ice several times until it broke through. He partially filled the bucket with water.

That’s strange, a well that has iced over, he thought.

Timothy held the bucket as Lisa began to drink. She didn’t drink much.

Timmy, is this a wishin’ well?

Uh, what kind of question is that, he snapped, half listening.

Well, if it is a wishin’ well, I want to make a wish.

And what would you wish for? he asked, curiously.

Well, I’d wish for Pa to be with us, and for Ma to be with us.

Lisa, Ma can’t be with us. And for Pa, he can’t be with us either. He has to work. He’s gotta pay the debt off. So there. Do you have any more wishes? he snapped.

Yeah. I wish that someday I’ll be able to take care of Pa and you, they way ya’ll took care of me.

Timothy looked down at Lisa and realized that she had also been forced to grow up too quickly.

Seeing that the well meant so much to her, Timothy could not destroy her fantasy by telling her that it was just a water well.

Yes Lisa, this is a wishin’ well, our wishin’ well. This will be our special place, forever, said Timothy.

Will the wishes come true? asked Lisa enthusiastically, with eyes gleaming.

Timothy looked down and into her eyes. Her eyes seemed to be filled with hope and excitement. Timothy had had never seen an expression such as this on her face.

"Yes Lisa, they will. But you’ve got to believe. You’ve got to believe with all of your heart and soul. You can’t ever doubt. And sure ‘nough they will come true. Lisa, this is our wishin’ well. Whenever we feel lost or lonely, this will be our special place to visit…a place where we can come for the rest of our lives and make wishes that will always come true. You can’t ever

tell anyone about our special place. Do you promise?"

Yeah, I promise, Lisa answered.

Timothy and Lisa left the well and walked to the front of the house. They sat on the porch beside one another.

Timothy considered their immediate needs—food, and to find Aunt Martha.

Lisa sat quietly, watching the tree branches sway back and forth. She sat very close to her brother, swinging her legs, as though there were no worries in the world. For Lisa, there were no worries since Timothy had always provided for her needs as long as she could remember.

The sun made its way above the nearby hills, its brightness intermittently interrupted by the swaying tree branches.

Where’s Aunt Martha, Timmy?

I don’t know. Maybe she just took a little trip.

Where’d she go, then? asked Lisa.

Well, he paused, she does have a son, Johnny. Maybe she went to see him.

Oh!

They continued to sit on the porch a while longer. Faintly, Timothy heard a noise coming toward them, to his left. Lisa heard it also. Her legs stopped swinging as she turned to look toward the noise. They stood and walked to the gate for a better view.

They saw a wagon being pulled by a single mule off in the distance. A single person rode in the wagon. They continued to watch as the wagon inched its way toward them. A few minutes later, the wagon stopped, within a few feet of Timothy and Lisa.

Howdy young’uns, the voice said.

The man driving the wagon was a burly individual—long black hair protruded from underneath his hat and he had a full salt and pepper beard, which covered most of his face. He was about six feet tall and over fifty years old, by Timothy’s guess. He was very big man with a large protruding stomach—a much larger man than their father. His hands were large and callused, a sign of many years of hard work. His clothes were tattered, his plaid shirt appeared dingy and faded, his coat had worn out at the elbow, and his trousers were held in place by suspenders. His boots were faded, and the leather was worn from years of wear. His clothes were not much better than the ones Timothy and Lisa were wearing.

Hi, Timothy said.

What ya’ll doing here? the man asked.

We’re here visitin’ our Aunt Martha, said Timothy.

Martha? Martha Satcher? the man asked.

Yeah, replied Timothy.

Martha’s been gone, son. She left some, he paused, thinking, four, maybe five months back.

Timothy stood facing the man, stunned by his statement.

Where’d she go? asked Timothy, hesitantly.

Don’t rightly know, just said she had to leave. Maybe ‘cause she could-n’t stand to be here no more since her husband died, said the man.

When did he die? asked Timothy.

‘Bout nine moths back.

What happened? asked Timothy.

He was blowin’ stumps in the field…got too close when one blew and near cut off his leg. He lost a lot of blood before Martha could get him to Doc Farley. Martha did what she could and the Doc did what he could. Anyhow, he lost a lot of blood and, well, he paused, died a few days later.

Martha was the sister of Timothy and Lisa’s mother. As children they had been close, growing up in Bedford, Kentucky. Martha was the eldest. Martha married, left Kentucky, and moved to Virginia. A year later, Timothy and Lisa’s mother, Jan, married and moved to Appleton, Kentucky, about 130 miles from Bedford, Kentucky. Martha and Jan wrote each other earnestly in the early years, but as time progressed, the letters became infrequent.

Where you young’uns staying? the man asked.

Well, uh, we planned to stay here with Aunt Martha, said Timothy.

Can’t stay here no more, the owner won’t cotton to that, said the man.

Timothy’s heart fell with disappointment.

What am I gonna do now, he thought.

You young’uns hungry? asked the man, sensing they were.

Lisa had avoided eye contact with the stranger, standing behind Timothy, holding onto his pant leg, until the stranger mentioned food. Lisa’s eyes met the stranger’s eyes as a smile came upon her face.

Yeah, said Lisa.

Hop aboard, he said.

Timothy lifted Lisa into the awaiting arms of the stranger, and walked around to the opposite side of the wagon and climbed aboard.

Giddy up mule, said the stranger.

The stranger turned the wagon around and headed back down the road in the direction he had just come from.

As the mule pulled the wagon, Lisa sat between the stranger and Timothy. She continued to stare at the stranger. Lisa would stare at the stranger and then turn her head to stare at Timothy. This went on for several minutes. No one said a word.

Timothy gazed upon the scenery. The road remained wet from the previous night’s snow. The road was very narrow and extremely bumpy. Timothy’s thoughts returned to their home in Appleton, Kentucky.

Their father, after their mother’s death, could not support Timothy and Lisa. Over the years he had incurred a debt at the company owned store, which grew with each passing year. By design, the mining company had little by little forced most everyone in Appleton into debt by inflating prices at the Adkins store and underpaying their workers. Since the miners were paid in script, and the only store that accepted script happened to be owned by the mining company, Adkins Mining Company, there seemed to be no escape for any of the workers.

Timothy’s father had dug their mother’s grave and placed her to rest for the last time. His father shed no tears, but then again, Timothy could never remember seeing his father cry at any time, for any reason.

After the burial, their father gave Timothy $2.10, money that he had managed to save over the past few years. After giving Timothy the money, he instructed Timothy to write a letter to Aunt Martha, advising her that he and Lisa would soon be arriving. Two weeks later, allowing sufficient time for the letter to arrive, Timothy and Lisa left Appleton, bound for Japer, Virginia.

They walked the first two days without seeing anyone. The third day, they happened upon a family traveling by wagon, in their direction. They were invited to travel with them. They traveled with the family for the next three days. The family shared their food and friendship with Timothy and Lisa. On the sixth day, they stopped at a fork in the road where they parted company. Timothy and Lisa continued traveling east as the family continued north.

Hey, boy, you still there? asked the stranger.

Yeah. I mean yes, sir.

What’s your name?

Timothy. Timothy Legget, and this is my sister, Lisa Legget, replied Timothy.

What yours, uh, your name that is? asked Timothy.

Sam Carter, he replied with a big grin.

My friends call me Fox—Fox Carter. They call me Fox ‘cause I’m so sly, said Fox Carter, smiling.

The wagon rolled onward for what seemed like several miles. At one point, the mule, without being guided, instinctively turned right, off the main road, and onto a side road. The wagon continued for about a half mile until a small house finally appeared.

That your house? asked Timothy.

Yep, that’s mine.

The wagon rolled to a stop in front of the house. It was about the same size of their home in Appleton, Kentucky. Mr. Carter climbed off the wagon as Timothy picked Lisa up and handed her to him. Mr. Carter gently lowered Lisa to the ground. Timothy jumped off the wagon and joined Lisa and Mr. Carter on the opposite side of the wagon.

Mr. Carter led them up the steps toward the house. He opened the door and allowed the children to enter first.

Timothy and Lisa walked in and stopped to gaze. Hot coals smoldered in the fireplace. A stove sat in one corner of the house, and two beds rested in the opposite corner.

Mr. Carter began to prepare food for the children as they walked about the room exploring.

A while later, Mr. Carter finished preparing the food.

OK young’uns, let’s eat.

Timothy and Lisa walked to the table and sat.

Mr. Carter had prepared fresh eggs and bacon. He filled their plates and sat them on the table.

Lisa, staring at her plate, had never seen so much food for one person.

Are you rich Mr. Carter? asked Lisa.

Nah, Honey, I ain’t rich, but I ain’t hungry either. And quit callin’ me Mr. Carter, my name is Fox, he said, smiling.

Now eat up, said Fox.

Lisa was about to taste her first bite of food when Timothy interrupted her.

Wait a minute, Lisa, said Timothy as he bowed his head.

Lisa bowed her head and clasped her hands tightly together. Mr. Carter, with a mouth full of biscuit, lowered his head.

Dear Lord, we thank you for all that you have provided. We ask that your blessing be placed on this food for which we are about to receive. Amen. And oh…we thank you for letting Mr. Carter find us, amen.

CHAPTER 2

Timothy and Lisa finished eating as Fox Carter sat and watched in amazement at the amount of food they were able to eat. Timothy had two additional servings and Lisa had one.

You young’uns shore can put away the food, Fox remarked. Ya’ll want any more?

Uh, no. I mean no sir, said Timothy.

Timothy stood and picked Lisa’s plate up and carried it to the washtub, which was outside. Lisa sat at the table, staring intently at the fireplace. In a warm room with her appetite quenched, she seemed tired.

Timothy returned a while later and stored the plates in the cupboard. He joined Fox Carter at the table.

It was a little past noon. The sky remained clear and it began to snow. Lisa stood from the table and walked to the window near the fireplace.

Well Timothy, what are your plans?

I’d like to find Aunt Martha first. Then if I could earn enough money, I’d like to take Lisa to her so that she can get proper raisin’.

Timothy, I’ve got some bad news. You and Lisa can only stay here for a few days, not forever. I’m gone most of the time, and I can’t be bothered with young’uns. I know that sounds like I don’t care what happens to you and your sister, that’s jest the way I am.

I understand.

B’sides, if you don’t have kin in these parts, you’ll be thrown into the orphanage, you and your sister, both.

We ain’t goin’ to no orphanage.

Son, you won’t have a choice if word gets out that you ain’t got kin…

But we got kin. We got Pa and we got Aunt Martha, interrupted Timothy.

"But they ain’t here, Timothy. You see, these people that run this orphanage don’t care nothin’ ‘bout what you say you