Bring the Darkness to Light

By LUCY RICHARDS

Past crimes, and threats of more to come if the truth be revealed, is the stronghold that had kept many living in fear and shame for years. Finally, courage has crept in and caught the cocky criminal unaware. Is it coincidences that cause the right characters to meet at crucial times, or is it an answer to the prayers and supplications of the victimized women and men? Ironically, the character instrumental in uncovering the greatest crime is the one least expected.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Mar 28, 2012
• ISBN: 9781466907775

LUCY RICHARDS

This purely fictitious book evolved after years of writing and rewriting. Having taught school in many settings was my first life calling; however, I have relished the hours when I could exercise my creativity instead of igniting another’s imagination. Although the book’s setting and characters are all fictional, it was inevitable that some of my deep convictions and fragments of my personal experiences would have an impact on the book. The theme is the universal battle between good and evil, and it develops up to the surprising and unexpected finish. I was born and raised on a potato farm in Northern Maine and lived there until I graduated from college. I am married to a wonderful loving husband and have had three wonderful sons who have enriched and blessed my life in more ways than I can recount. That recounting would involve another novel. I continue to work in the education field and write when I have the time.

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© Copyright 2012 Lucy Richards.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

ISBN: 978-1-4669-0778-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4669-0779-9 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4669-0777-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011962412

Trafford rev. 07/10/2012

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Table of Contents

Chapter 1   Proverbs 31: 10-12

Chapter 2   Ephesians 6:4

Chapter 3   Proverbs 3:5

Chapter 4   Luke 6:38

Chapter 5   Proverbs 13:20

Chapter 6   Psalm 46: 1-3

Chapter 7   Psalm 67: 5-6

Chapter 8   Galatians 6:8

Chapter 9   Proverbs 3:6

Chapter 10   Ephesians 5:14

Chapter 11   Proverbs 22:18

Chapter 12   Psalm 64:2

Chapter 13   1 Corinthians 5: 6-7

Epilogue    1 John 1:7

I would like to thank my Lord and Savior for his amazing patience and merciful love.

Prologue

Ephesians 5:8

for you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord . . . . Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness but rather expose them (NKJ 1316). (Bring them to light)

Northern Maine, a land of hills, valleys, lakes, rivers and streams is filled with abundant wildlife and freshwater fish that attract hunters and fishermen every season. Its virginal country, often called God’s Country, lures many to its unspoiled beauty. Trudging in the dense and dark forest floor, the woodsmen encounter the ubiquitous black flies that accompany the spring and summer weather; not the native Indians that long ago assimilated with the predominantly French settlers, their facial features attesting to that fact.

Like slithering snakes in the dense forests, the roadways have numerous moose and deer crossing signs warning the loaded lumber trucks to beware of the unexpected. Sharp blind curves and narrow bridges are treacherous for travelers meeting northbound speeding lumber trucks with empty bodies that bounce over the solid line into their lane.

Loon Lake in Northern Maine, partly settled on both sides with seasonal homes, is centrally located between Pelletier, a farming town, and St. Pierre, a lumber mill town. The lake drains into the St. Jean River, once an important means of transportation. People long ago settled on both sides of the river forming small farming towns. The most significant town on the river has always been the town of St. Pierre boasting a population of more than five thousand. Lumber is St.Pierre most profitable natural resource. Agriculture, mainly potato farming, is the next source of income for surrounding towns and especially for Pelletier that boasts a population close to St.Pierre’s population.

Crimes and corruptions, so prevalent in the southern cities, seemed so far away from the isolated farm families until after The Depression which forced many to move away to the cities to find work. The few who returned were instrumental in bringing with them those insidious evils. Jealously coveting the fortune of the diligent, industrious farmers and lumber men, they deviously threatened their livelihood and the author of lies worked overtime with his instruments to bring havoc on those who sincerely wished to follow the Christian way.

Chapter 1

Proverbs 31: 10-12

"Who can find a virtuous wife?

For her worth is far above rubies.

The heart of her husband safely trusts her

So he will have no lack of gain.

She does him good and not evil all the days of her life" (NKJ 752).

Jake Perrault looked at his nearly completed mill under construction in Pelletier. It was closer to the untapped lumber resources in northern Maine. With the Depression safely behind and businesses in New England booming again, the high lumber demands had forced him to expand to satisfy the increasing markets opening in the North East. Bankruptcy, a product of the Depression, had left many northern farms abandoned so he had purchased two of them in Pelletier. The larger farm on the outskirts of Pelletier nearer to the forests was for the new lumber mill, and the smaller farm was for his new home. With a second modern mill to aid the St. Pierre mill two hours south of Pelletier; he would be able to provide, within a reasonable time, large quantities of quality lumber for demanding consumers.

His grandfather had built the St. Pierre mill nearly one hundred years ago and his father, Adrian, had improved the business first by buying old army trucks to replace the large work horses that carried the logs out of the woods and secondly by inventing machines that increased lumber production. Later, by investing in safer equipment and modern inventions he increased efficiency and reduced production costs for his lumber. Proper forest management and conservation was implemented after clear cutting forced his woodcutters to go deeper into the woods to find good lumber.

By restoring several abandoned potato houses in St.Pierre to sell his lumber, Adrian eventually had two great businesses to hand down to his two sons Jake and David. The lumber supply yard was expanded and an electrical and a plumbing department were added when the store flourished. When David became the store manager, he also added a home décor department that became a tremendous success.

For many years Barbara, Adrian’s wife and May, a dear family friend, helped managed the store once both businesses were booming and Adrian could not manage alone. They worked at the store until both Jake and David returned from college to take over the businesses. Jake had always been partial to managing the mills and took great interest in forestry. He hated to be cooped up in one place whereas David preferred the excitement of meeting new people and helping them with their building projects. Though both sons were always willing to help each other, they knew where they were most productive.

Jake took over the lumber business immediately after college, but it was several years before he expanded. He began the time consuming planning stages of a new mill only after he was certain he had a strong and reliable manager to continue operating the old St. Pierre mill. He picked Andrew Morin because he had worked with his father for over twenty years. With confidence that the mill would run smoothly without him, he traveled to Oregon and Canada to study some newly constructed mills in operation there. He studied the pros and cons of the new machines on the market and chose only the ones with longevity and multiple uses. He wanted no waste, so every part of the trees they cut down would be used. Once lumber production at the new mill in Pelletier was at full capacity, then the St. Pierre’s mill would be renovated next.

He asked Barry Ouellette, a trusted employee and previously a manager at St. Pierre’s mill, to oversee both the Pelletier mill construction and that of his new home. Barry’s vast knowledge of building construction was invaluable. A man of much integrity and great wisdom, he was irreplaceable. He had been trained by the very best, his father. Once both his buildings in Pelletier were completed, Barry would build his house. He had given him three free acres not far from his house to lure him to Pelletier. He knew asking Barry to move his family, when they had lived in St.Pierre most of their lives, was asking a lot; so he provided them with many fringe benefits.

Because Barry’s three sons were already enrolled in the Pelletier school system for the next school year, they were in a hurry to complete the first two building projects. Barry wanted to have his wife and three sons nearby as soon as possible; therefore, Jake insisted they move into his house while theirs was built. The offices at the new mill were finished, so he planned to live there in the meantime when he wasn’t staying in St.Pierre. Because he wanted to have his daughter, Katy, nearby; he had been innovative when he built an inside and outside day care area at the new mill. He had a unique situation being a widower. In the future the space could serve as extra storage for the office files or possibly another office. His greatest need now, however, was to find a trustworthy local woman to watch Katy when his mother couldn’t take care of her.

His mother had taken care of Katy after Hillary’s death and had worked wonders in helping him to change an emotionally hurting and insecure baby into the happy easy-going toddler she was now. Once he moved to Pelletier, however, he could not expect her to continue raising his daughter. Katy was his responsibility and he would not shirk it like Hillary, his wife, had done while she was alive. His problem was finding someone both he and his mother could trust to take care of Katy with as much love and devotion as they did. The ad placed in the St. Pierre paper had been answered by every fortune and husband seeking woman in that area so he had quickly given up finding a caregiver aware of his prosperity. He wanted someone that lived near or in Pelletier, but he didn’t know anyone from that town so it was pointless asking for references.

Rita, Barry’s wife had offered to help him, but he knew she was too busy with the move. Besides, she had three very active and demanding sons who took up a large part of her time. So the first occupants of his new house, while he searched for a trustworthy sitter, were the family of his most trusted employee. His mother would remain Katy’s primary caregiver. It was an arrangement he hoped to rectify soon, but hasty decisions were not acceptable when it involved his only child and his parents’ only grandchild.

After his wife’s death, he tried finding someone to care for Katy full time, but that major adjustment so soon after Hillary’s death was too much for him to handle. The maintenance of Hillary’s huge house, large lawns and the stable, housing her horses, drained the valuable time he needed to spend with Katy. Within a couple months he sold Hillary’s horses removing the constant reminder of why his unborn son had been killed. He, his parents and brother, David, packed and stored everything in Hillary’s house into his parents’ three car garage, and he had moved in with them. Once he was moved in, he and his mother put Katy on a strict schedule thus providing the stability, the loving care and the nurturing she desperately needed. She changed drastically. Eventually, the insurmountable obstacles Hillary’s death created were overcome.

Hillary’s house had never really been his or Katy’s, but her showpiece. Fortunately a lawyer, Mark Roy, from the Portland area moved into town and he was able to sell the house to him for a good profit. Much to the dismay of Hillary’s friends, along with the fortune and husband hunters that plagued him, selling Hillary’s house prompted him to make the bolder decision to expand his business and move away to Pelletier.

He had grown spiritually from the lessons learned since his wife’s death. He learned to cast his cares in God’s capable hands. He realized that all the years he had ignored the urging of his parents as well as the Taggets, May and Ben, and his long time Pastor, James Jacques, to give his life to God, had been foolish years. He was thankful they had not stopped praying for his eventual conversion. Along with a spiritual awakening, improving his business and providing valuable jobs for the Pelletier region became an important goal. Had Hillary been alive, he would never have made such a bold and daring venture as a new mill in Pelletier. She would not have supported him. It was his parents’ loving support and encouragement that had given him the courage he needed to press forward.

He searched several northern farm towns to find the most advantageous location to add a second more modern and productive mill. Finally settling on Pelletier, he bought a three hundred acre farm closer to the forests where trees were already being harvested for his St. Pierre mill. The trucker’s travel time carrying the cut logs from the woods to the mill would be shortened two hours once the new mill was operational. Only trees being cut in the St. Pierre region would be used for that mill in the future. This would decrease production costs, increase lumber availability and save the lumbermen much wear and tear on their trucks. The particle boards, which would be manufactured from the tree residue, were already in great demand and he had more orders for that material than he could fill in a year. The increased need for laborers would bring new economic life to Pelletier and its surrounding towns. It was hoped prosperity would erase the Depression’s scars for the farmers as well.

Jake drove through Pelletier to get to his new house. Two clothing stores, a shoe and furniture store, and two drug stores on Main Street faced each other as though ready for battle. Economic leaders directing commerce, several banks were at opposite ends of the town. Central Street cut Main Street directly in half making the town look like a gigantic cross. The two car dealerships, Charlie’s Chevrolet and Friendly Ford, and grocery stores, Charette’s Market and Daigle’s Grocery, were at opposite ends of Central Street. They competed furiously through special sales and services for loyal customers. Madores’ Building Supply Store and the small fire station were opposite each other at the intersections. All the schools, elementary, high school and the college sat on Central Street not far from the fire station and Madores’ Building supply store.

As he continued down Main Street, Jake drove past the hospital and the police station not too far from his turn onto Charette Hill Road. He began the long climb to the Charette farm where his new house stood alone at the peak of the hill. It was only four miles from the intersection in the center of town to his house. His four wheel drive vehicle made the incline seem effortless. The hill was challenging in the winter, therefore, few had settled permanently along its incline. Because it was the location for their radio tower, the town continued to plow Charette Hill Road in the winter even though the farm had been abandoned for years before he bought it. The dilapidated buildings were demolished and his nearly finished home occupied its space.

Tonight, he planned to sleep in his new house since Barry and his wife were staying in St.Pierre for the night. He spent many evenings at his parents’ house in St. Pierre, driving the long two hours from the Pelletier mill so Katy could see him. He was tired of the travel time and impatient to find someone he could comfortably leave his daughter with when he worked at the mill, but he had learned the consequences of impatience after marrying a woman without praying and asking for God’s guidance. The cost of his mistake had been nearly too much to bear. He had suffered and his daughter had too, so he was not going to make another mistake and settle for less than the best. He was hoping to find someone who would agree to care for his daughter under his mother’s watchful eyes before he left her alone. That requirement was difficult because of the two hour distance from Pelletier to St. Pierre.

As weeks went by he learned that the close knit families in Pelletier took care of their own children so the newspaper didn’t have advertisements that would lead him to someone looking for a nanny’s job. He was hesitant about placing his own ad since he didn’t have the time yet to deal with all the interviews involved with the search.

In the morning he planned to spray paint the trees bordering his farm and to post no trespassing signs because Rita had heard some shooting behind the house that week. So while he normally drove home to spend the weekend with Katy, he had chosen to stay there overnight. During hunting season hunters had previously hunted his two hundred acre farm even though it was close to town. The deer grazed the abandoned farm fields in the summers and fall. Now that he occupied the farm, he was afraid they’d hunt too close to his house. This was a perfect place for both hunter and deer to hide in fall and winter.

He liked the privacy of the quiet, dead-end road where his house was situated. Down the hill stood two other houses, but the Depression had forced their occupants out too. The abandoned buildings were a sign of a better time long ago. Barry Ouelletes’ house would be built there. He was relieved Barry’s family wouldn’t live too far from him. They were great friends and his growing boys would be perfect to hire for maintaining his yard once the newly seeded lawns were long enough to be mowed. Since he owned the property on both sides of the road, he was assured that no one could move in too close unless he allowed it. He had noticed more interest in the properties down the bottom of the hill since his house had been built. He predicted that soon their nearly abandoned road would be revived with the improved economy.

It was pitch black when Mark arrived at his new house. He was pleased with Barry’s promptness and efficiency in getting his house and mill constructed. Prior to the buildings’ construction, he had gathered all the materials near the job site and had carefully organized the contractors so they didn’t interfere with each other. The only work left in his house was the bathroom and the family room in the walk out basement. Those would be completed next week.

His and Barry’s house were very inexpensive to build because the only costs were the contractor’s wages and the other building supplies not produced at his mill or sold at cost at Perraults’ Building Supply Store in St. Pierre. The profit from the sale of Hillary’s house completely covered the cost of his new house and he had enough to refurnish it if he wanted to. He was more inclined to furnish it with simple and sturdy furniture that fit his practical tastes than reuse Hillary’s lavish furniture that triggered bad memories for him. His only hesitation in completely refurnishing the house was the wastefulness of it all. His thrifty and frugal parents had instilled in him the importance of buying only for your needs and not your wants.

Once the Ouellettes’ moved into their house, their furniture would vacate his house and he would be forced to choose what he would use from the stored furnishings. He knew he had more than he needed and planned to donate the rest to a needy family. He glanced out the front living room window down the brightly lit valley below. Before going to bed on a cot downstairs in the unfinished family room, he walked into his spacious bedroom his footsteps echoing because of its hard wood floor. He opened the bedroom windows so the chorus of the insects and frogs in the man made pond on his huge, front lawn could serenade him. He felt like he was trespassing with Barry and Rita’s furniture there. His faithful golden retriever, Caesar, followed him as he went to bed. Caesar was soon sleeping on his cedar bed while he lay awake. He envied Caesar’s ability to sleep within minutes of settling down.

Chapter 2

Ephesians 6:4

And you, fathers, do not provoke your children to wrath . . . (NKJV 1317).

Estelle knew their job would have been much easier if they could bale the dry hay they were placing into mounds, but their father could not afford to spend the precious little money they had on farm machinery. So they did things the old fashioned way using pitchforks to mound rows of hay that would be placed on the farm truck. By lunch time they had only two hay rows left to mound and all of them were worried because they were done later than their father’s expectations. Since it was so close to lunch time and punctuality was of utmost importance in their home, Estelle sent everyone to the house for lunch while she stayed to finish those rows. She knew they couldn’t all fit on the tractor and her father’s fury would be unleashed if the hay job was not complete when he arrived at the field after lunch.

Reno promised to bring her a sandwich when they returned with a farm truck. He had always been her best friend although he was her brother. He knew she would need something to keep her body nourished for the difficult afternoon that lay ahead. She watched as Michelle and Diane, her younger sisters, climbed on the tractor and sat on one fender while Reno sat on the other side. Even if she wanted to go with her siblings to eat, Estelle would not have been able to fit anywhere since the tractor’s levers occupied most of Reno’s side.

Donald was driving as everyone expected. He was four years older than her and the oldest of the family. He was home for a two week break from medical school and had taken charge as soon as he arrived as he had done for years before he left. He was training to be a surgeon and had two more years left. Her oldest sister, Helen, was not there because her mother said she needed her at home.

Her brothers were complete opposites. Reno had graduated from the local college with an Associate Degree in business and was perfectly content with that while Donald sought the highest level of education in the medical field. Donald was very serious about almost everything he did, but Reno’s wit and charm seemed to hide the fact that he was just as efficient, competent and intelligent as his older brother. Reno wanted a job in business management, but the opportunities were limited in this area.

Estelle thought how excited she and Reno had been when they had graduated from college together in the spring. Their excitement deflated once they looked for job prospects in their specialties. She had received a Bachelor’s degree in education and she knew she would need to leave the area to get a job and so would her brother. Their greatest obstacle was lack of money. How could they move if they couldn’t afford a car or a security deposit on an apartment! They were both depressed about it because it was no use asking for financial help from their parents who were at the poverty level.

Estelle suspected her father, who would be returning with the farm truck after lunch, would be furious. He was always displeased with their work no matter how hard they tried. He had insisted at breakfast that they could finish the hay field by mid-morning and to come get him as soon as they were done. Donald, who had known he was expecting more than they could accomplish, had tried to reason with him, but it had only started a huge fight. Her father had left screaming and threatening that they’d better get the hayfield done while he sprayed several potato fields or else…

After she finished the two rows of hay, Estelle decided a refreshing swim would be a good reprieve while she waited for everyone to return. She headed toward the small pool created by natural springs in the woods below the hayfield. She quickly took off her prickly clothes and stepped into the shallow but refreshing cool water. She washed herself quickly frowning when she realized she had no towel to dry off, and she had to dress with her dirty clothes again.

The afternoon would be hot and exhausting since she and her sisters would have to walk back and forth on the truck packing down the prickly hay mounds her father and brothers threw on the truck. The hay had to be well packed and pressed so that it would remain clumped together once it was raised by a large two pronged fork into the barn’s hayloft. Estelle sighed as she emerged from the woods while thinking of the tasks ahead; her long, blond, uncombed hair was covering her attractive, sunburned cheeks and pug nose. Her lips, reddened by the sun, appeared to have lipstick as she moistened them to keep them from chapping. Her ragged hand-me-down clothes did not hide her natural beauty. Her body was muscled from the years of strenuous farm work, yet she was still feminine. She was short like her mother and grandmother, a trait of her predominantly French ancestry.

As she walked the dirt road outlining the hay field while gathering her wet hair and using her fingers to comb the snarls, she faintly heard the old farm truck. She tried to guess how much more time she had before its arrival. Suddenly a large golden retriever brushed her legs as he ran by her. She shrieked with fear. As she turned in the direction he had come from, she was shocked to see a tall lean man approaching. He had to be over six feet tall. A stranger was unusual in Pelletier, but never had she seen one on the farthest field on her father’s farm! She wanted to run, but that would have been quite ridiculous for a twenty one year old to do. She tensed and waited trying her best to pretend she was not scared.

As the man approached, she noticed he was well dressed with a comfortable golf shirt, khaki pants and expensive sneakers. When he was within speaking distance, he greeted her, relief evident in his expression. Hello! I never thought I’d find someone up here. I’m Jake Perrault, he said extending one large hand for her to shake while he shaded his green eyes with the other. I’m a little lost. I was trying to mark the boundaries to my land and somehow got off track. I just bought the Charette farm last year and haven’t had time to mark the land until today. Whose farm is this? he asked in one breath while waiting patiently for her to shake his hand.

This is Ludger Pelletier’s farm, Estelle informed him. Judging from the width of his broad shoulders, she debated whether it was wise with no one else around to give her hand to a man much bigger and obviously stronger than she was. My dad’s farm borders your farm at the top of this hay field and our neighbor, Mr. John Albert’s potato field over there borders your farm to the right.

She noticed that his hair was as blond as hers and that he had a dimple on his left cheek when he smiled. He was very handsome and she struggled not to stare at him in obvious admiration. As she pointed to the boundaries of her father’s farm and their other neighbor’s potato field, she climbed the small hill to the top of their hayfield.

Distressed that the farm truck’s roar and grinding gears announced its arrival and that their new neighbor would witness her father’s furious and impatient rages, Estelle gasped, I’ve gotta go. Her father’s yelling and swearing would ignite if she didn’t greet the truck.

Grinding gears, her father down shifted to edge the truck between two rows of mounded hay at the bottom of the hill. Her brothers and sisters released their hold on the metal cab protector. They had ridden in the back of the truck rather than choosing to listen to their father’s scolding in the cab from the house to the field. She could imagine they had heard enough of his tirade throughout their lunch. Off the truck flew three pitch forks and her two brothers who immediately rushed to load hay mounds onto the truck. Her father stepped out on the driver’s side just as she climbed onto the running board on the passenger’s side. He never noticed when she arrived panting from her fast run.

Ludger Pelletier’s children knew, after years of working with him, how to diffuse his anger. Efficiency was of utmost importance to him. Everyone else working around the truck was too busy to see Jake standing at the crest of the hill not far from his woods. Even Estelle had become too occupied to notice he had not left.

Jake, startled by Estelle’s quick departure, debated whether to walk over to the rest of the group and introduce himself or let the busy workers be. He had been at the bottom of the hay field when he met her, but he had slowly climbed the hill following her while she had pointed out their farm’s boundaries. He had a good view of the men working on both sides of the truck from his vantage point. Three men were loading the hay mounds onto the truck while three young women were walking back and forth on the truck packing down the hay. The lone hay loader on the passenger side was quickly getting far behind the older man and his son working on the driver’s side. He assumed they were all from the same family. The father’s loud scream at the loader on the passenger’s side was peppered with swears and Jake wondered how he could speak in such a way with young ladies present.

The father’s displeasure with his son’s efforts was clearly unjustified and Jake could tell by the rushing young man down below that he was becoming increasingly irritated. He listened to their conversation. How can you expect me to work as fast as the two of you? I’m not a machine! The lone worker shouted as he rushed to another row of hay mounds.

Christ, it took you de whole morning to do dis small field, the father yelled.

No one stopped all morning long, he defended himself and the others for the fourth time. This isn’t a small field.

Just cause you ave a college education doesn’t mean I can’t go over dere and it you; you know, the father warned with a distinct French accent. The cursing continued several more minutes then the father climbed into the truck cab, grinding gears before advancing further down the field. The abrupt start and stop jerked the girls forward on the truck and with nothing to hold on to, they fell on the moving truck into the increasing hay pile.

The father jumped out to continue loading and yelled at his helper impatiently, Get me de damn pitchfork. Do I ave to tell you everyting?

Jake watched as they threw the hay on the truck not mindful of the girls above. He pitied the young man running frantically to keep up. He could no longer watch the scene without interfering and headed down the hill to meet his neighbor. Estelle noticed his approach before anyone else did and gave him a warning wave to stay away. Although he acknowledged her, he refused to heed her warning and walked right over to her father’s side of the truck. Estelle cringed with shame as he was berating Reno on that side of the truck in his usual manner.

Hello, Jake yelled, greeting her father.

Whoa! Her father jumped in response, looking in Jake’s direction.

Mr. Pelletier, he said extending his hand, glad to meet you, neighbor. I just met your daughter ahh? Jake stopped pointing to her hoping he would mention her name.

Estelle, she heard her father tell him her name.

Ya, the older one on the truck, Jake acknowledged.

Got an older one dan dat at ome, her father informed him. elen’s er name. Estelle is my second dauder.

You sure have a hard working family, Jake said hoping to diffuse his anger with his compliment.

Yup dey work and elp out on de farm as soon as dey can. Didn’t urt me and won’t urt dem too, Ludger Pelletier bragged.

My name’s Jake Perrault. Over a year ago I bought the Charette farm over there, he said pointing up the top of the hay field, and the Martin farm across town. I am building a new mill on the Martin farm and my house on Charette’s farm.

I saw your place not too long ago. It sure was built fast! Ludger acknowledged.

We started building as soon as the ground was dried from the spring thaw. I was out marking my property in the woods and I must have gone too far. I was following the rock wall and walked onto this hay field, Jake added.

I eard about you in town. Everyone’s appy de new mill’s coming in. Says it’s gonna bring money to de town and we sure could use some of dat.

I sure hope so, Jake agreed.

Estelle watched her father’s demeanor change completely and it angered her to hear him speak civilly to a stranger when he treated them so shamefully. She had to remind herself that her father’s ignorance stemmed from his harsh and very abusive childhood and that he didn’t realize how cruel he was being to all of them. He was the man of the house and ruled with absolute authority as he had seen his tyrannical father do. He held on to that authority tenaciously applying force and fear to all within the sphere of his control and influence. To think of defying or questioning his commands was unthinkable.

Do you have an extra pitchfork? Estelle heard Jake ask her father. I’d like to try my hand at haying this way.

Sure, Ludger replied, delighted Jake wanted to work with him. Reno, he ordered abruptly to her younger brother, get dat oder pitchfork in de truck.

Jake immediately began following her father’s directions and helped load the truck on her father’s side while Reno crossed to the other side to help Donald. The truck filled faster with four men working so Estelle, Diane and Michelle could barely keep up. They were hot and sweaty and thirsty, but they couldn’t stop moving or they would be reprimanded in front of Jake. The combination of the hot sun, the lack of nourishment and thirst was making Estelle’s vision blurry, but she pressed on. She couldn’t hear her father’s and Jake’s conversation anymore since she was too busy, but she could tell they were speaking fast and furiously about something that she suspected involved her.

As the load became higher, she had to use a pitchfork to draw the hay mounds up on the truck since the men were not tall enough to throw them over the top. She was working on her father’s and Jake’s side while her brothers filled her sisters’ side. Jake and her father didn’t stop talking the whole time that they worked. Each time Jake waited for her to reach for his pitchfork full of hay, he smiled and complimented her efforts. The truck was filled, the hay extending nearly four feet above the cab. When the men couldn’t extend their full pitchforks high enough for them to reach the hay mound with their pitch fork anymore; everything stopped. Estelle watched as Jake conversed with her father, then turned, winked and waved goodbye. She was glad her cheeks were already red from the sun so he could not see her blush. She managed a smile and returned his wave.

As Jake’s long strides carried him toward the trees bordering their lands, she wondered what had been said about her, since she had seen both he and her father frequently glancing at her while they were conversing. She overheard Jake’s departing yell, Remember, let me know as soon as possible what you decide. The last she saw of him, he was climbing over the rock wall that had been the property divider between their lands for years.

When Ludger started the truck, alerting his children to find a comfortable place to settle for the slow ride to the barn, Donald commented, We need to thank Jake for coming to our rescue today. You’d almost think he came down on purpose to settle dad down.

I don’t think he did; I know he did, Estelle said as she sighed with relief that she could rest her sore muscles for a few minutes. I tried to warn him away, but he wouldn’t listen.

I think he likes you, Reno teased. He was looking at you an awful lot.

Shut up, Estelle sighed. I’m too tired to put up with your teasing. Anyway I’m a little embarrassed that he heard dad yelling.

What are you embarrassed about? Donald said bitterly. You’re not the one screaming your head off. Dad probably doesn’t even think he’s doing anything wrong. You know what a maniac his father was and what he did to him when he was younger. He thinks he’s being easy on us.

Ignorance breeds ignorance, Estelle said with bitterness. How well I know it.

It doesn’t have to. We’re going to prove that theory wrong. Someday when I’m a father, I will never treat my kids the way he treated us, Donald vowed.

I can’t believe he brought up that college education stuff again! Reno said from the back of the truck letting them know he had heard them talking. Reno always liked to sit on the back part of the hay load since that was where they had the bumpiest ride.

He’s jealous because he didn’t have the opportunity to do what you did. Out of necessity, he was forced to remain on his father’s farm and work. He had the potential to do what you did and that is probably what makes him so grouchy. He sees what he could have been. That’s probably why he picks on you so much, Estelle said analyzing her father’s behavior.

You’re always trying to figure things out, Donald said to Estelle. Even if you’re right, that doesn’t excuse his behavior. Making me pay for his misfortunes or lack of courage to reach out for his dreams is wrong. One of these days I might lose it with him and actually punch him.

No, you won’t, and that’s why you’ll make a good surgeon, Estelle comforted her brother. Self control will never be your enemy after the challenges Dad has put you through.

I’d rather learn self control another way, Donald said as he joined his brother at the foot of the truck to enjoy a bumpy ride to the barn.

They liked to live dangerously, Estelle thought, as she watched her brothers settle on the back of the truck for the ride home. She’d rather stay with her sisters in the front of the truck where she was safer because the hay didn’t project you into the air every time the wheels hit a bump or a rut. As they descended the long hill leading to the barn, Estelle ate and drank her lunch greedily before laying down next to her sisters.

She gazed at the breathtaking view of her father’s farm and the farm across the river valley. The farm fields, patchwork quilt squares draped over the many small hills and valley dips, were joined by tree lined seams for wind breaks and interwoven with dirt roads. Lush green potato fields and golden wheat or deep reddish brown buckwheat fields made the various patches’ colors. In the distance, the familiar sound of the daily freight train’s horn warned motorists at the railroad crossing to stop for its freight cars extending nearly a mile long. Every time the truck hit a rut in the farm road, Estelle could hear her brother’s laughter as they were projected into the air briefly to land once again onto their hay cushions. It was a miracle they had only been thrown off the truck once in all the years they had been haying. It had taken the bouncing of the truck going over the railroad track to accomplish that feat.

The fifteen minute respite on top of the hay load revitalized everyone for the next task, putting the hay in the hay loft. This was the easy part of haying. As they had passed the house on their way to the barn, Estelle was surprised to see Helen hanging clothes on the clothes line that extended over the cow pasture. The cows, ignoring the clothes flapping in the breeze, were grazing below. Normally, Helen worked at Madores’ Building Supply Store at that time of day.

Helen had missed out on some good times with them because their mother favored her to help around the house. Roger, the Madores’ store owner’s son, was the reason she held such a preferred status in the family because they had dated since high school. Her parents were blinded to Roger’s faults by the fact that his parents were probably the richest family in town. Estelle knew Roger was no great prize; unlike her parents, she pitied her sister.

As they arrived at the barn, she fearfully climbed down the truck’s cab. There was no other way to get off the truck, and she worried that she could not stop her descent once she reached the truck hood’s slippery surface and she would hit her head. Everyone hurried to do their assigned tasks without their father’s instruction. Had he been obliged to say something, it would have meant more yelling. Estelle climbed the tractor that would pull the long rope attached to the hay fork. She shifted into first gear and waited while Diane attached the rope to the back hook on the tractor. Michelle positioned herself at the front of the truck cab to relay her father’s instructions out of the barn to Diane who then shouted them to her.

Meanwhile, Donald and Reno had climbed into the hayloft nearly filled to capacity. The hay was at the peak of the barn roof, so Estelle knew she would have to pull the rope quite a distance before her father could release the large clump of hay held by the two pronged fork onto the loft. As she drove the tractor into first gear the wooden pulleys bolted to attention and the wheels creaked as the ropes were pulled taut to lift the hay up to the barn peak. Reno’s and Donald’s precarious responsibilities included leaning over the edge of the loft, grabbing the swinging hay bundle with their pitchforks, and directing it properly on the loft before yelling to their father to release the hay. If the hay had not been properly packed she and her sisters would be scolded.

Estelle knew she had never been a very good climber like her brothers. She had attempted the hayloft climb several times to help her brothers and they recognized her fears made her inept. Since that realization, they assigned her tractor duty. For once she had the easy job! Estelle shifted into reverse gear after the signal to stop. The unloading process was repeated until the hay truck was emptied. The cloud of hay dust puffing out the barn doors accompanied the relieved sigh of the barn occupants letting Estelle know that the hay truck was empty. Estelle was relieved she was outside and not breathing the barn’s dust.

They returned to the hayfield after refilling the water jugs at home. No one wanted to ride in the hot cab with their father, so they held on tightly to the protective cab cover as they were jostled by the rutted farm road. The panoramic view was still breathtaking even though they were no longer elevated on the hay. The curving river dividing the valley’s flat fields below had determined the curves of the roads on both sides of the river years ago. Black and white Jersey cows, relatives of her father’s few cows, grazed on the dairy farm across the river. Even their house didn’t look so dilapidated from far away, giving them a vision of its former grandness. It had never been repaired while they had owned it because the Depression had robbed them of the extra money needed for that. The white exterior paint had chipped and the house appeared nearly gray. The wrap around porch had rotted and hung slanted where its foundations had collapsed. The outbuildings attached to the house, a four car garage that had once stabled horses and a summer house, had collapsing roofs and were a safety hazard. A second barn next to their house was filled with