Journey With the Comet: The Journey Continues

By Dana Wayne Haley

Leona Haley's dream of becoming a famous astronomer like Edmund Halley has faded after having a child out of wedlock and then entering into a marriage of convenience; however her dreams in which she rides a magical comet through the heavens continue. When not riding on Haley's Comet, her wits and the help of a mysterious giant American Bald Eagle assists her journey through life––the same eagle that miraculously kept her from drowning when she was a 5-year-old. Unfortunately, Leona is forced to live with obnoxious in-laws who treat her and her child Marcy like dirt because "they're not blood," and often treat Leona's other children just as bad, forcing the frustrated, yet fearless woman to shield her children from the in-laws as best she can by continuing the Haley tradition of storytelling to keep them laughing, and by joining them in other fun and often adventurous activities.

Some of the activities Leona uses to entertain her children include snow sledding, and climbing the Walker Rock—a house-size glacial rock deep in the woods of West Glenburn—all the while keeping them from the prying eyes of their cantankerous grandparents. There's just one problem: her children love playing on that huge rock so much that Leona has to invent a 'scary story' to keep them from going there by themselves. In addition, she also has to deal with everyday problems ranging from trivialities to tragedies. One involves little Marcy, who has a traumatic experience that causes her to stutter, which requires Leona to use her wits to find a cure. Other times she uses her wits to outfox wild animals to protect her kids; in addition, there are numerous other opportunities for Leona to experience the ups and downs of motherhood.

Perhaps the most troubling time for Leona, however, is when her brother Wally is sent to fight in WWII. Although his letters help to keep her spirits up, she constantly worries that he won't make it back alive. She is able to cope with these things and others thanks to the support of her family; the strength she inherited from her mother; and interactions with her old friend Crazy Charlie, a hermit who most people fear, but whom Leona now thinks of as family, even trusting her children with him.

So once again join Leona on her amazing Journey With the Comet, and also tag along on her earthly journey to see how she navigates the ups-and-downs of life, and whether her dream of seeing Halley's Comet with her own eyes in 1986 comes true.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Oct 15, 2018
• ISBN: 9781543948585

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JOURNEY WITH THE COMET—THE JOURNEY CONTINUES

Copyright © 2018 by Dana Wayne Haley

All rights reserved. This book, or any portion thereof, with the obvious exception of that already in the public domain, may not be used in any manner whatsoever without express written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Many of the characters in this novel are based upon relatives and acquaintances of Leona Haley and others were added to enhance the telling of her story. The perceived traits and actions of actual people, living or deceased, either by the author or his relatives, were meant to be accurate and in no way meant to falsely disparage anyone.

Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner, and any resemblance of fictional characters to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Printed in the United States of America

Dana Wayne Haley, Publisher

First Publication, 2018

ISBN (Print Edition): 978-1-54394-857-8

ISBN (eBook Edition): 978-1-54394-858-5

Cover Design by BookBaby

In memory of my mother Leona Haley

Acknowledgements

Journey With the Comet: The Journey Continues, the second of a two-set novel, is based on the life of Leona Haley—my amazing mother—of Bangor and Glenburn, Maine, and she obviously gets the credit for its creation. I already knew many facts about her life, but I learned many more from family members while writing this novel. In addition, while watching a Mark Twain documentary I learned of a remarkable coincidence that prompted the fantasy part of my mother’s story, and while researching her maternal ancestors—the Carvers of New England—I learned of another fascinating fact that significantly enhanced her story.

Many of the stories in this novel were a result of things I observed firsthand, or heard my mother mention, and others came from my elder siblings Marcia, Pat, Bud, Marilyn and Marie, who related interesting real-life stories which were incorporated into this novel. I am particularly grateful to Bud and Marilyn for stories concerning their amusing relationship. All of these sibling stories appear in this second novel: Journey With the Comet: The Journey Continues, with—as Mark Twain would say—a few stretches here and there. In addition, I made use of a collection of letters that my mother received during WWII from her brother Wally, who was sent to England as a U.S. Army Tank Commander to participate in the 1944 D-Day Invasion at Normandy. Those letters, which also appear unchanged in this novel, were extremely helpful in identifying significant dates and events related to Uncle Wally, and some of his friends and relatives.

I am also most grateful to our Aunt Gerry—Uncle Wally’s wife—who provided many details and stories for this novel, including things she heard from her husband about his childhood and his U.S. Army experiences, much of which is included almost verbatim. In addition, I’m grateful to Helen Pass—my mother’s Canadian cousin from St. Stephens, New Brunswick—who provided ancestral details of the Haleys of Basswood Ridge, Canada.

However, as previously stated, this novel would never have been written but for my mother and it is my tribute to her.

Table of Contents

STARTING A NEW LIFE

THE NEW HOME

THE SHOOTING

WHAT’S UP?

EXPLORATION

THE RED BARN

THE IN-LAWS

THE LOAN SHARK

LEONA’S CHILDREN

MARCY’S SLED

PATTY AND THE GIANT CAT

THE EAGLE AND THE WOLF

THE ACCIDENT

FILLING IN THE GAPS

THE LAST THANKSGIVING

THE EEIRE DARK CLOSET

CHARLIE AND THE CHILDREN

BUD GETS SKUNKED

THE ROCKER ROCK

MARILYN AND THE BEAR

WALLY AND WWII

GO WEST YOUNG MAN

GO EAST YOUNG MAN

LIFE GOES ON

WALLY’S SURPRISE

WALLY GOES TO WAR

HOME SWEET HOME

LEONA’S NEW SISTER

BUD’S PRANKS

BUD’S BIKE

IF LOOKS COULD KILL

LEAVING THE NEST

AUNT EDIE

LIFE AND DEATH

JOURNEY TO THE MOON

ARLENE’S JOURNEY

SWAPPING STORIES

MARIE’S ADVENTURES

THE GRANDCHILDREN

THE REUNION

THE 4TH OF JULY IN BOSTON

ROCKWELL AND THE CAPE

THE COMET RETURNS

THE FINAL JOURNEY

JOURNEY WITH THE EAGLE

A SMALL WORLD

TIT FOR TAT

GIANT EAGLE

Chapter 1

STARTING A NEW LIFE

Thirty-seven days after giving birth out of wedlock to her beautiful daughter Marceline at a home hospital in nearby Bangor, Maine, 21-year-old Leona Haley was back at her family’s home in West Glenburn relaxing in her beloved mother’s rocking chair near a large picture window overlooking the Haleys’ huge back field. She was reading the paper and also watching baby Marcy sleeping in her old cradle. Before long, Leona began daydreaming about her childhood, and while doing so she thought of Marcy and turned toward her sleeping baby.

When you can understand me, Marcy, I have some wonderful stories to tell you, she said in a soft voice. "I’ll tell you all about my mama and papa, and Grandma Eunice; and about my best friend Jill, who helped me get over my fear of water by teaching me how to swim. She also gave me the cutest kitten when I was 8; I named it Comet. I gave it to your Uncle Wally when he was 8, thinking it would help him overcome his fear of snakes. It didn’t, but at least Comet gave him some comfort when Mama died.

"Your Grandpa Haley—my father—immigrated to this country from Basswood Ridge in Canada. He wanted to get a job as a carpenter, but he had to settle for work as a laborer, and then a farmhand. But he kept his hand in carpentry by making lots of toys and furniture for us, and occasionally for neighbors. He made my mother—your grandma—many beautiful things. Come to think of it, your grandpa made the cradle you’re sleeping in. He built it especially for me when I was your age. And see this rocking chair? He made it for your Grandma Haley. He met your grandma while working in Bangor, and it was love at first sight for him. Your grandma, she had her doubts at first, but he won her over. Her maiden name was Carver.

"Oh, did you know that we’re related to John Carver, the first governor of the Plymouth Colony, and that we have an Indian ancestor? I didn’t think so, beings you’re only a little over a month old."

Leona laughed at herself and said:

"I guess my sister Arlene was right when she said I was crazier than a coot. Here I am talking to a sleeping baby, oh well. Anyway, our great-great-great-whatever grandmother was named Princess Falling Star and she married a descendant of Isaac Carver—John’s brother. He came to America on a ship called the Speedwell, not long after John came on the Mayflower. There are plenty of stories like that, and I can’t wait to tell you; and many of them involve a mysterious eagle, so please grow up fast."

On occasion the new mother would turn and look out the window, gazing at the large back field that she had gotten so much youthful enjoyment from. The first thing Leona saw was her mother’s cherished flower garden, about 30 feet from where she was sitting, and it brought a smile to her face as she imagined her mother kneeling and carefully removing weeds that were trying hard to clutter it, or better yet imagined her mother sitting in her rocking chair or on her porch swing, just enjoying the beauty of her flowers and watching tiny hummingbirds, fat bumble bees, and beautiful butterflies seeking nourishment from their delicious nectar.

In the distance, just beyond the field, Leona also eyed what as a wildly imaginative child she deemed to be the Haleys’ enchanted forest—her father called it "the woods." She recalled with fondness a family of golden-brown whitetail deer that she had watched wander out of the forest at dusk to snack on apples lying under a nearby tree. As amazing as that was, the thing that really intrigued her most was a huge American Bald Eagle that often chose the top of the tallest pine tree as its landing spot. The best thing about the woods though was a special path Leona had traveled hundreds, if not thousands of times, either on her way to her favorite fishing hole, or to visit her best friend Jill. She also remembered fondly the time she traveled that path with her father to find a Christmas tree; it was her first time doing that, and her excitement was surpassed only by the frightening adventure she experienced on that particular trip.

You’ll really like that story, Marcy, Leona told her little girl, still fast asleep.

Leona’s thoughts then turned to her cozy little bedroom, which she still occupied and had loved from the first time she laid eyes on it. Her second floor bedroom also overlooked the back field and she had spent hour-upon-hour in it sitting by the window, either waiting for a family of deer to come out of the woods at dusk; or just viewing God’s beautiful outdoor painting, be it the glorious spring-summer scene that was dominated by the yellow-green hue of greener-than-green grass and trees; or the colorful autumn scene sprinkled with amazing red, yellow, orange, and purple leaves; or the gorgeous snowy-white winter scene, which was especially beautiful when contrasted against a bright-blue sky filled with puffy white clouds, that truly made it a winter wonderland. Leona wasn’t sure which scene she treasured the most, because each one was stunningly unique and each brought her eyes tremendous pleasure. At times she preferred the spring-summer scene because it was often accompanied by warm, sunny weather; other times she marveled at the colorful autumn scene; and, then again, she always felt inspired whenever she witnessed the glorious winter spectacle.

Regardless, sitting by her bedroom window in the chair her father lovingly crafted brought Leona untold happiness, not just because of the scenic view; instead, as was most often the case, it was where she would read one of her many novels and find herself lost in the story it told. Her favorite writer was Mark Twain, not only due to his entertaining stories, but because the year of his birth—and death—coincided with the return of Halley’s Comet; and the fact that Leona was also born under that comet, only five days after Mark Twain died, made her forever connected to him. And after reading a biography written about his amazing life, she had great admiration for America’s most famous novelist.

You know, Marcy, I got so much enjoyment from reading Mr. Twain’s novels; they were so funny, Leona said softly to her sleeping baby. When you’re older I’ll let you read them too.

Although Leona enjoyed all of Twain’s novels, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn was by far her most favorite, but the novel that held the most sentiment for her was written by Canadian author Lucy Maud Montgomery. Her novel Anne of Green Gables was the very first novel Leona read, and it caused her to fall in love with reading, mainly because of Anne’s vivid imagination and creative descriptions of the scenic countryside she traversed and the unusual people she met. Even so, Leona knew in her own mind that the real reason that novel was so special was because her mother gave it to her, saying it was her favorite book, and that fact alone would have made even the most mediocre novel Leona’s favorite.

The more Leona reminisced, the happier she was that she was still able to live in the Haleys’ cozy little home in scenic West Glenburn, even if it was missing its most important family member: her dear mother, whose life was tragically cut short. She and her siblings had moved from the city of Bangor to the small town of Glenburn in 1918 with their parents—Margaret and Murdock—when Leona was only 8 years old. It was now April 3rd of 1931, so Leona had been living in this house with her family going onto 13 years. Leona’s younger brother Wally and her older sister Arlene still lived there too, but her oldest sister Lillian had married in 1922 and now lived in Bangor with her husband and two little boys.

Leona’s parents, who most everyone referred to as Maggie and Murdy, had provided their children with a strong moral upbringing in a safe, warm, and joyful home environment, and it didn’t matter whether they were living in the populous city of Bangor or in the small rural town of Glenburn. Although Leona had fond memories of her home on Palm Street in Bangor, and loved living there, she preferred the charming little country home she now resided in so much more. In addition to the serenity and the intrinsic enjoyment of living in the country—thanks in large part to the aforementioned natural scenic beauty, regardless of the season—another thing Leona enjoyed, as much, if not more, was the storytelling ability of her mother and maternal grandmother.

Their stories were so funny, Marcy, Leona said softly so as not to wake her baby. It’s hard to say who was more entertaining, my mother or Grandma Eunice.

—1—

Leona’s grandmother lived just 700 feet down Ohio Street from the Haleys, and she always looked forward to seeing her walking up Grandma’s Path, the name she gave the field path between her home and her grandmother’s. More often than not Eunice was coming for weekly storytelling sessions with Margaret, which inevitably kept the children entertained and most of all kept them laughing. During her visits the children also enjoyed munching on their grandma’s fresh-from-the-oven molasses cookies, which she was sure to bring each time she visited. After the session was over and Eunice had gone home, the children waited in anticipation for their grandmother’s next visit, knowing that she would have a fresh batch of cookies, and stories to tell.

One of the first stories Eunice told, and one that lingered in Leona’s memory forever, was about an old hermit named Crazy Charlie who lived on Ohio Street, just over a mile north of the Haleys’ home. It was rumored that he had spent time in an insane asylum after killing his family and that he especially disliked children, threatening to shoot any who wandered onto his property. Upon hearing that, Leona was scared to death that someday she might encounter Crazy Charlie in the woods while on her way to the Kenduskeag Stream for a day of fishing. The stream was 2 miles north of her home, and to her chagrin his cabin was on the route she traveled.

Six years later, Leona discovered the truth about Crazy Charlie when she fortuitously stumbled onto his cabin while running away from school bullies who were out for revenge after she shamed them for picking on her best friend Jill. The old hermit saved Leona from the bullies, and after talking to him she learned that he was really a kindhearted man named Charlie Berry, a former college professor who had lost his family in a train accident when his wife was visiting her relatives in New York. After that tragic accident, Charlie moved to West Glenburn and began his life as a hermit living alone in the woods amongst the animals and enjoying the solitude of nature. Leona was surprised to learn that Charlie actually liked the fact that he was thought to be crazy, because it ensured that no one would bother him.

After helping Leona, Charlie became like family to the Haleys—so much so that Leona now referred to him as Uncle Charlie—and from that day forward Margaret made sure his cabin was always well stocked with her homemade bread and jam. And when Charlie learned that Leona dreamed of going to college and becoming an astronomer in the mold of Edmund Halley, he gave his old telescope to her and took her to his secret site where he showed her how to make the best use of it. Because of Charlie’s help, she decided that if she did become an astronomer and was fortunate enough to discover a comet, she would name it the Haley-Berry Comet. Her fascination with astronomy began when she was in the 3rd grade, after listening to her teacher Miss Hutchinson talk about the stars and other celestial bodies in the Universe. That’s when Leona first learned about Halley’s Comet, the trigger for her magical dreams.

You know, Marcy, she said, "when I learned about Halley’s Comet from my 3rd grade teacher, I thought for sure that Edmund Halley must be my ancestor since Miss Hutchinson sounded like she was saying Edmund Haley; however, even after I learned that the spelling was different, I still thought we might be related because I remember Mama telling me that the names of immigrants to America were often misspelled by careless immigration officials. Be that as it may, that’s when I became interested in astronomy and wanted to find my own comet; and when you’re a mite older I’ll tell you all about it, and about how Uncle Charlie—that’s Crazy Charlie to most people—gave me his telescope."

Leona was smiling when she reminisced about Grandma Eunice’s Crazy Charlie story, and she longed for the days when her mother and grandmother spun their tall, animated tales with exaggerated gestures and creative voices to mimic the people and things they were talking about. Even though her father also had some interesting stories to tell when he joined their sessions, it was hearing his warm, deep-throated laughter that made Leona smile the most. She was smiling now, just thinking about those times.

Someday, Marcy, you’ll be laughing too, when I retell all those stories, Leona said. Of course, I’ll stretch them a mite. Just like Mr. Mark Twain used to do.

Sitting there in her mother’s rocking chair, she thought back on her life with conflicting emotions. For the most part her life in Bangor and West Glenburn had been idyllic, with the exception of the death of her maternal grandmother Eunice when Leona was 11, the death of her best friend Jill when she was 14, and, most depressing of all, the death of her beloved mother when she was nearly 16. As if losing her mother wasn’t bad enough, Leona had to drop out of high school to care for her father and young brother, and had to give up on her dream of being an astronomer. If it wasn’t for Leona’s magical dreams, the young girl may not have been able to overcome those devastating events, especially the loss of her loved ones.

Although somewhat unexpected, Eunice’s death wasn’t a total shock, mainly because the elderly woman was 76 and had a bad heart. However, when Leona’s best friend Jill was accidentally killed by four school bullies, she was totally devastated, and her subsequent dream eased the pain, just as a similar dream after Eunice’s death had. However, after her 47-year-old mother died of cancer in March 1926, Leona suffered from deep depression and her dream the night of the funeral was instrumental in bringing her out of it.

In each of her dreams Leona is sitting on the back porch gazing at the stars, and all of a sudden she notices a particularly bright falling star speeding directly toward her. However, it would always slow down just before reaching her and become a beautiful multi-colored ball emitting a colorful mist that totally envelops her. The next thing Leona knew she was riding on a magical comet—which she named Haley’s Comet—and she was taken to places she had only read about: places like Yellowstone, Niagara Falls, the Mississippi River, the Grand Canyon, and the giant redwood trees of California in her own country; the Amazon River and Basin in South America; London, Paris, Rome, and the Alps in Europe; the Sahara Desert, the Serengeti Plains, and the Nile River in Africa; the Aborigines, the Outback, and the Great Coral Reefs of Australia; Mount Everest, the Yangtze River, the Gobi Desert, and the Great Wall of China in Asia; and Mt. Katahdin, Moosehead Lake and Acadia in her home state.

You know, Marcy, Leona said, "I can’t wait to tell you about my very first ride on Haley’s Comet—if I decide to.

"It was so amazing!

"But as amazing as that first journey was, my other journeys on Haley’s Comet were even more special because of the peace of mind I felt when I discovered that Grandma Eunice, my best friend Jill, and my precious mother were living peacefully there in a setting identical to that on Earth, with the exception that the trees, grass, flowers, and other vegetation and wildlife around their homes were much more vivid and beautiful than I could have imagined, even in my wildest imagination. And they all seemed happier and more at peace than any time I can recall; that gave me the most peace of mind.

"You know, Marcy, everyone always said I had a wild imagination, and I guess they were right, but Haley’s Comet was way more amazing than what I pictured in my mind’s eye when I conjured up my idea of Paradise; and if I do decide to tell you about Haley’s Comet, you’ll be as amazed as I was. The only reason I might not tell you is because I don’t want you thinking your old ma is loony. Lots of people did, and most still do when it comes right down to it. Oh well, you know what they say: it takes all kinds to make the world go around."

—2—

Although her current situation as an unwed mother was a huge concern to the 21-year-old woman, Leona knew it couldn’t compare to the loss of loved ones. Even so, she couldn’t help but worry about what people might think of her. However, she thought that living in sparsely populated West Glenburn would make her life as an unwed mother more tolerable than living in a big city like Bangor, mainly because there were fewer people to look down on her. But she was wrong.

Even here in this small Maine town there were some people who could not accept her situation and treated her with disdain. Not everyone was judgmental, but the ones who were made her feel two feet tall. Still, her plight wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been had she lived in a place the size of Bangor. Just the same, even though her father had overcome his misgivings and was now very supportive—and absolutely adored little Marcy—Leona feared that he might still feel some uneasiness, if not down right embarrassment, because of her situation. To rid herself and her father of any stigma, real or imagined, Leona decided to marry the first "good man" to ask for her hand, within limits.

The first man to come along who met her pragmatic standards was Stillman Buzzell, a former schoolmate living with his parents, just one mile up the road from her. He was 5 years older than Leona and attended grade school with her for only a year. Because of their age difference they seldom even said hello during the few times their paths crossed. He had been married before, but that marriage didn’t last long. Leona learned that he worked during the winter with his father for the Bangor and Aroostook Railroad, filling coal-stoves that sat in the bunkers of railroad cars to keep products such as potatoes from The County from freezing while being transported during the brutally cold Maine winter. The County was what Mainers called Aroostook County: the largest and most northern of the state’s eight counties, easily the most prolific potato producer in the U.S., and, as such, known as the Potato Capital of America.

Leona met Stillman quite by accident in April of 1931. Normally her father brought a gallon of milk home at noontime from the Fogg farm where he worked, but this particular day Leona needed milk before then for baby Marcy. So, early on the morning of April 11th she walked to the Fogg farm in order to get the milk herself. By chance, Stillman was there also picking up milk. They chatted for a while and he offered to give her a ride home in his wagon. They immediately hit it off and dated for three months. Then Stillman asked for Leona’s hand in marriage. Although she leaned toward saying yes, she told him she’d think it over, so she could discuss it with her father. That night Leona did just that.

Papa, Stillman asked me to marry him. What do you think? she asked.

Well, that’s up to you, dear, but he seems like a nice enough fella to me, Murdock answered. "Although?"

"Although what?" Leona queried.

I remember Mr. Fogg saying that he’s prone to gamble. Hopefully, just every now and again, because I’ve heard tell it can be addictive.

I haven’t heard anything bad about Stillman, she responded, so I doubt he’s that way.

The next day, Leona asked Stillman about his gambling and he assured her that it was not a problem.

It’s just a fun hobby that I engage in on occasion, but I can take it or leave it, he said.

After thinking long and hard about his marriage proposal, she said yes.

He was neither a particularly good-looking man, nor a bad-looking man. But, in all probability, it wouldn’t have mattered one way or the other to Leona because he seemed "real nice," and she was entering into a marriage of necessity rather than of love. Besides, no other eligible man she knew showed any interest in her now that she had a child. Their wedding was initially scheduled for June of ‘32; however, they found themselves in the same predicament that Leona’s parents had found themselves in 28 years earlier, so for appearance sake they had to move up the date to April 11th, 1932, the anniversary of their first meeting.

After the wedding, Stillman took Leona on a two-week honeymoon to Bar Harbor. When the honeymoon was over they planned to move into the Buzzell home for what she thought would be only a short stay. Unfortunately for Leona the stay with Stillman’s parents would be much longer than she figured.

The home Leona moved into was the one that she learned about from her father when the Haleys first moved to West Glenburn, the nice looking one sitting high on a manmade bank only 600 feet north of her little school. Leona remembered thinking that the white house and the expansive land that surrounded it always seemed so beautiful to her each time she saw it as a child, and she still thought that way.

Leona had talked only briefly with her in-laws before marrying Stillman, and that occurred when he brought her to his home just after they met. Since he seldom spoke of his parents she knew little about them, other than what her father and beloved friend Charlie Berry had told her in the past; and much of that was rumor, so she didn’t know what to believe and what not to believe. And now Leona would have to wait a while longer to find out, because the day she was to move into their house the in-laws were in Boston visiting their two daughters, who had moved to Boston after getting married. Unbeknownst to Leona, they left for Boston the day of the wedding, missing the ceremony. She assumed they had made early travel reservations that couldn’t be changed. But all she knew for sure was: They weren’t due back for 10 days.

Chapter 2

THE NEW HOME

April 26th, Leona’s 22nd birthday and the first day in her new surroundings, was to be spent becoming familiar with her new home. Early that warm spring day Stillman and Leona, and little Marcy, who was fast asleep on her mother’s lap, were on their way up Ohio Street in Stillman’s rickety old wagon. It was being pulled by a sluggish brown horse with a drooping belly that had obviously seen better days. Stillman had left the horse and wagon in a rented stable near the Bangor Waterfront during their honeymoon. Although it wasn’t the most luxurious of transportation, Leona didn’t complain; it was better than walking.

Their first stop was at the Haley house on Ohio Street, so Leona could get all of her personal items, including the rest of her clothes, the nightstand her father had made for her, the telescope that Charlie Berry gave to her, and, of course, her cherished books that she had gotten so much knowledge and entertainment from. After loading all of Leona’s items onto the wagon, they headed to the Buzzell house, where they planned to live until Stillman could save enough money to buy a house of their own. Leona figured that they would likely be living with the Buzzells for maybe three years, five at the most. She was somewhat anxious about living away from her family for the first time in her life, but at least she was only going to be living about a mile away.

When Stillman’s wagon hit a pothole just before the School Road, Marcy was jostled awake from her long nap.

"Hi, sweetheart, Leona said. Did you have a nice nap? Stillman’s lazy old horse looks like it could use one too; don’t you think?"

Marcy looked up at her mother and giggled.

After they passed the School Road and were adjacent to the grammar school that she had attended, Leona eyed six tall maple trees up ahead on the right side of Ohio Street. She recalled the first time she saw them when she and her father were on their way to the Kenduskeag Stream for a day of fishing, shortly after moving to Glenburn.

A second later the Buzzells’ large white house came into view, and she said:

That’s our new home, Marcy.

Leona’s feelings were understandably mixed. The first and only time she met Stillman’s parents they were sitting outside in the shade, and they surprisingly failed to invite her into their house, or offer her refreshments, which was the polite thing to do. She thought that quite peculiar, but assumed it to be a minor oversight on their part.

Although Leona was anxious to get to know her new in-laws, in a way she was glad that they were in Boston, because now she could get acclimated to her new surroundings without feeling awkward, or worse yet seeming like a stranger in their home. When the newlyweds arrived at the Buzzells’ home, Stillman parked the wagon under an old apple tree near the large white house and tied his horse to it. Then he helped his new wife and her one-year-old climb down.

How do you like your new home? he asked.

It’s beautiful, Leona said as she walked onto the lawn in front of the house, holding little Marcy tightly in her arms. I bet those lilacs smell nice when they’re in bloom.

They always have, so I suspect this year will be no different, Stillman replied dispassionately.

They were talking about a large cluster of lilac bushes that were four feet from the edge of Ohio Street. To Leona the bushes appeared to be about 8 feet high and 12 feet wide, running about 30 feet parallel to the road, obscuring part of its view from where she now stood. A young maple tree was growing in the middle of the bushes, its tip sticking two to three feet above them. About midway on the side of the lilacs was a small opening through which the trunk of the maple could be seen, and that prompted Leona to tell Stillman:

I can see Marcy playing in those bushes in the not too distant future.

A few feet to the south of the newlyweds was a gravel driveway, and just beyond it, sitting at the front of the long rock-pile, was the flat-top rock that had so fascinated Leona when she first saw it as a child. While eyeing it she noticed that the six tall maple trees sitting between the rock-pile and Ohio Street were beginning to bud. Between the trunks of those trees she eyed her familiar old schoolhouse silhouetted against a field and a far-away forest. Near the forest was the old Douglass homestead, maybe a thousand feet from where she stood. Leona turned her glance approximately 45 degrees to the right and saw the Tyler home, also roughly a thousand feet away.

How’s Mr. Tyler these days? she asked.

"It’s hard to say; the old guy kicked the bucket a few months back."

"I’m sorry to hear that; he was a good man, Leona responded. Who lives there now?"

Harry Terrill bought his home, and he and his new wife Elsie live there now.

What’s Harry’s wife like?

Nice enough, Stillman replied. She’s seven years older than him you know.

"Is that so? Then she must be especially nice."

That’s what I’m told; anyway, Harry bought some of Fogg’s dairy cows and we’re gonna buy milk from him now, so I’m sure you’ll get to know Elsie real good.

Leona looked around and saw that the only other house in view was directly across Ohio Street.

They’re relation, was all Stillman told her when she asked about his next-door neighbors.

"Boy, Stillman’s not very talkative today," she thought.

Truth was, he wasn’t very talkative any day. He, like many men of that era, was what you would call reserved, maybe even aloof, obnoxiously so, Leona thought. She didn’t sense that peculiarly male trait when they dated, but, as Leona knew all too well, dating is different. She once heard her mother tell Eunice:

A person can change very quickly once they’re married, men or women. She also heard her say: Thank God, Murdy wasn’t that way.

Turning toward the large white house behind her and looking upward, Leona saw smoke rising from a chimney that extended three feet above the peak of its steep roof. Leona observed that, contrary to the orientation of the Haley home, its peak ran parallel to Ohio Street, a north to south running street, so the west side of the roof, the side facing Ohio Street, was what Leona was now looking at. The front entrance to the two-story house was directly in front of her, somewhat centered on the west side and surrounded by four windows, two on each side. She would later learn that a back entrance was on the far side of the house, positioned closer toward the south side where the east-west running driveway was.

The bank that the house sat on was a little over 30 feet from Ohio Street, and the house itself was another 12 feet or so in, sitting plum in the middle of the manmade bank. Near the southwest corner of the house, only 8 feet from it and more than halfway down the rounded bank, was the lazy old apple tree where Stillman had parked the wagon. Being an unusually early spring, the large tree’s beautiful pinkish-white blossoms were nearly in full bloom, providing a stunning contrast against the yellow-green grass of the bank it sat on. Leona pictured herself lying on the green grass under the shade of that old apple tree on a bright sunny day, while gazing at the summer sky, much the way she had at her cozy, peaceful old home.

We don’t use the front entrance much, Stillman said. We use an entrance in the back.

Leona could tell that what he said was true because there were no steps going up the bank to meet the two steps of the front entrance. One would have to walk on the grass of the steep, rounded bank, and the grass showed no sign of wear, which it obviously would have if that entrance had been used much. Regardless, Leona walked up the grassy bank with baby Marceline held safely in her arms.

—1—

After struggling mightily to open a stuck door, which to her was further proof that this was a seldom-used entrance, Leona entered the front of the rather nice looking house, and for no apparent reason her baby girl began to cry. Just then, a strange, eerie feeling came over the young, bewildered mother, with chills mysteriously running up and down her spine. It was as if she had just walked into a dark, dank mausoleum, and a creepy one at that.

"That’s strange, she thought. Nerves, I guess."

After all, she had never lived anywhere but with her family, except for her short stay at the Home Private Hospital on Essex Street, where she gave birth to Marcy; and even then she knew she would eventually be going back to her own familiar surroundings. This time she would not, so maybe that was the explanation for the strange feeling she had inside. Regardless, she found herself standing in a small hall that was about 5 feet wide by 6 feet deep. On the left and right of it were doorways; the door on the left was closed, the one on the right was open, and straight-ahead was a flight of dark-brown stairs.

Those go to upstairs bedrooms, Stillman said.

How many bedrooms? Leona asked.

Four. And there’s a small guest bedroom downstairs. I’ll show you around down here first.

Leona turned right and followed Stillman into a room that was obviously a large kitchen. To the left of the door was a woodstove that was used to cook meals, as well as to provide heat for the house. Leona noticed the customary 10-inch square hole in the ceiling above the stove, a hole that allowed heat to efficiently, more or less, reach the upstairs area, like the ones in her old home. In this case the in-laws’ bedroom was the recipient of heat from the stove, heat that mainly helped keep the kitchen and the room upstairs warm in the winter. Unlike the hole in her old bedroom floor, this one didn’t have the usual wooden slats used to keep small children from falling through. It was particularly dangerous in the summer when a small rug would be laid over the hole to block heat that the kitchen stove generated when it was used to cook meals.

Nothing can be done to cool the kitchen in the summertime but to open the windows, Stillman said.

Of course, what he said wasn’t entirely true because there was a cellar door that could be opened to let cool air into the kitchen. However, doing so meant that hot air in the kitchen would enter the cellar, and that would defeat its main purpose: to provide as cool a place as possible for storing canned foods and the like.

Looking around the kitchen, Leona saw that there were two windows facing west—both overlooking the front lawn, the lilac bushes, and Ohio Street—and another facing south. Being a warm spring day, the far window on the west side was open, and thanks to a slight breeze she could smell a wonderful, invigorating aroma emanating from the delicate blossoms of the nearby apple tree. Leona walked to that window and inhaled deeply, soaking up the sweet fragrance of spring. Then she moved to her left, toward the window on the south wall, which looked like it hadn’t been cleaned for quite some time. After using her handkerchief to wipe off the dust and grime, she again saw the six beautiful maple trees lining Ohio Street, and bordering what Stillman sometimes called the front field, and other times the south field.

Beyond those trees Leona once again saw her familiar old school sitting at the corner of the School Road. For a minute her mind wandered, thinking about all the fun she had there as a child, both playing and learning. Her thoughts were mainly of her teacher Miss Hutchinson and the fun she had with her best friend Jill. After awakening from her short daydream she turned around, intending to continue her tour. Leona decided instead to sit and rest for a while at a large table in the middle of the kitchen. She had a question for her husband, but she hesitated for a second to figure out how best to phrase it.

Stillman, I hear your father likes his booze.

"You heard right. He’s given to drink a little."

"How much is a little?" she asked.

Oh, every now and again Dad gets a little smashed, but he’s not like that all the time.

How long has he been that way?

I suspect since he was a teenager. He lost his mother you know.

"Oh, how terrible! What happened?"

When my father was young, his mother—my grandmother Angie, who was only 28 at the time—was headed back to her home in Hudson after visiting her parents.

"Hudson? Leona said. Where’s that?"

"It’s north of Kenduskeag. Anyway, she was in her carriage crossing the covered bridge down at the Kenduskeag Stream during a hard rainstorm, and she and her horse were swept away when the river flooded; it was a flash flood."

"Oh, that’s so sad. When was that?"

According to my father it was April 6th of ’84, so that would make him almost 10 when she died. So I suspect his drinking is at least partly due to that.

Was her maiden name Farrar?

Uh-huh, Stillman answered.

I thought so. My dad told me a little about your family when we first moved to Glenburn. One thing I recall him saying was that your father shot someone. Is that true?

"Yeah, your father heard right," Stillman replied. And then he began telling his new wife the story.

Chapter 3

THE SHOOTING

During one of Ernest’s drinking sprees in 1917 he did something so foolish that it could have cost him his property, if not his life. It was early one Sunday morning, and Stillman and his parents were in the kitchen having breakfast. Ernest got up from the table and was on his way out the back door when he glanced out the window to his left and noticed something moving in his garden. As he watched, he realized that someone was stealing corn, so he grabbed the 30-30 hunting rifle he always kept on a gun rack near the back entrance.

Ernest, where you goin’ with that rifle? Meadie asked.

There’s someone in our garden, he said while loading the rifle, "and I’m gonna