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You Lied to Me, Pa
You Lied to Me, Pa
You Lied to Me, Pa
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You Lied to Me, Pa

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Its 1836, and Ann Arbor folks are rallying support for their booming town, set down in the midst of grape arbors and forests in Michigan. Twelve-year-old Tyler lives here with his pa and his six-year-old sister, Emmy. Tyler has big dreams of the railroad coming through their town.

But for now, Tyler has more pressing matters to worry about. He realizes that over the years, Pawho always said honesty and trust were so importanthas fooled him and can never be trusted again. With this bitter realization, the father-son story unfolds. Tylers other relationshipswith his halfNative American sister, with the school bully, and with his other friendsare also tested by his conflict with his father.

Dealing with issues of trust and coming of age, You Lied to Me, Pa touches on the enduring themes of single parenting and nontraditional families. It shows that family love goes far beyond the concept of blood ties.

LanguageEnglish
PublisheriUniverse
Release dateFeb 20, 2015
ISBN9781491756799
You Lied to Me, Pa
Author

Donna B. Freund

Donna B. Freund, a writer, earned a master’s degree in social work from the University of Michigan and recently retired from a career in hospice social work. Freund grew up in New Orleans, Louisiana, and now lives with her husband in Ann Arbor, Michigan, enjoying time with her children, grandchildren, and granddogs.

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    Book preview

    You Lied to Me, Pa - Donna B. Freund

    YOU LIED TO ME, PA

    Copyright © 2015 Donna B. Freund.

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

    This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

    iUniverse

    1663 Liberty Drive

    Bloomington, IN 47403

    www.iuniverse.com

    1-800-Authors (1-800-288-4677)

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    ISBN: 978-1-4917-5678-2 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4917-5680-5 (hc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4917-5679-9 (e)

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2014922799

    iUniverse rev. date: 2/19/2015

    Contents

    Preface

    1    The Story Sounded Different This Time

    2    The Broken Watch

    3    A Plan

    4    Birthdays Are for Growing Up

    5    Anger

    6    Newcomer to Town

    7    Fishing Talk

    8    Pa and Tyler—More Conflict

    9    Tyler’s Secret

    10    The Secret Is Out

    11    Friendship

    12    Fathers and Sons

    13    Christmas

    14    January Thunder

    15    Manny

    16    Finally, the Fishing Trip

    17    A Peace Offering

    Epilogue

    Dedicated to Toby and Emily—my inspiration and my joy

    Preface

    This story of early Ann Arbor pays tribute to many actual characters and events found in the history books that record Ann Arbor’s early days. The main characters are entirely fictitious, but the story recaptures a kind of life that existed in the early days of Ann Arbor. Tyler and Emmy and Jed could have easily walked the paths and streets of our town. Hopefully they will come alive as you read the pages of the book, and will speak for children both then and now who are on a journey of discovery.

    Chapter 1

    The Story Sounded Different This Time

    Tyler worked for an hour, repeatedly driving the ax into the thick trunk of a recently fallen tree. As the chips of wood flew, Tyler looked up from his chopping to see his friend Sarah Allen crunching through the frozen undergrowth. Her face was beaming out of the hood of her cape, and gingerbread was cushioned in the basket swinging from her wrist.

    Hey, Sarah!

    Hey, Ty. It’s gingerbread time again! said Sarah, swinging the basket in his direction. Tyler drove his ax into the log a final time for safekeeping and then led Sarah into the kitchen where his little sister, Emmy, was placing soup bowls on the table for dinner.

    Tyler was now excited by the prospect of cake, but he patiently skimmed cream from the milk pitcher and splashed it on three fat slices of gingerbread—for himself, Sarah, and Emmy. They ate in silence until every crumb was gone. It was then that Sarah started this whole thing, started asking questions, like girls always do.

    Tyler had just licked the last of the cream from his finger when Sarah asked, Tyler, do you ever wish you had a ma? She just plainly asked him the question he never let himself even think: Do you ever wish you had a ma? Tyler’s body stiffened; his jaw clenched. His eye carefully followed his finger as it circled the rim of the empty plate, in search of more cream and avoiding Sarah’s intense look. He let out a deep breath, still staring at the plate. I don’t know. I guess sometimes. But me and Pa and Emmy … we don’t really need anybody else.

    Emmy stared at Tyler, her eyes black and serious. Sometimes I wish I had a ma. You and Pa have each other, Ty, but I don’t have a ma to do things with.

    I wonder why your pa never got married again, Sarah persisted. You know, the women in town talk about that. She said that nearly everyone in the whole settlement felt that it was too much for a man to raise two children alone, that Emmy and Tyler needed a ma. "And your pa is handsome." Sarah smiled and glanced at Tyler in time to see him shake his head, annoyed.

    That was last Wednesday. But Sarah Allen’s question kept returning, intruding on his thoughts—Tyler, do you ever wish you had a ma?—even today, a week later, as he headed down Main Street.

    Today the late December air was bitter. Tyler’s lungs tightened against it as he walked from school through town, his chin tucked into his collar. A small crowd was clustered around the courthouse door up ahead. Tyler spied Pa talking to Jonathan Mann and waved. Pa smiled widely and motioned Tyler toward them.

    Well, Ty, it looks like we got ourselves a fire department. The new ordinance passed easy. As Pa spoke, small clouds of white winter air followed the words out of his mouth. He put his powerful arm around the eleven-year-old boy’s slender shoulders and ruffled the sandy hair curling out from under Tyler’s wool hat. He tightened his hold of Tyler in a quick hug.

    Jonathan Mann, the best leather tanner in town, spoke from one side of his mouth, while the other side held his pipe stem in place. Town’s gotten too big. This place’d be one huge bonfire if a blaze got started. About time we got this done. Ann Arbor was built almost entirely of wood, lit by candles and oil lamps, and heated by stoves and fireplaces.

    A simple spark could set the whole town off. Jonathan Mann took a few puffs. It’s about time we pulled together on this fire issue. Tyler watched the smoke rings circle over them like pale birds.

    It was 1836, and Ann Arbor folks were rallying support for their booming town, set down in the midst of grape arbors and forests. The Main Street merchants and the residents of the West Side and Lower Town had all finally come together in one common cause—protection from the threat of fire.

    Pa turned to Tyler. Did your sister go on home?

    Yep, she was too cold to walk down here, so she’s startin’ on her chores.

    Jonathan Mann spoke again around his pipe, Well, I’d best be gettin’ back to work myself. I got leather goin’ to Detroit next week. He nodded to them, lifted his hat, and then walked on. The scent of pipe lingered.

    You headed back to the mill now, Pa?

    I suppose. School goin’ along all right, Tyler?

    Same as always, Tyler said, brushing aside the question. Pa, there was talk today at school about the railroad comin’ through here in the next year or so. Is that right, Pa? You think it will? I’d sure like to ride the railroad, or maybe someday even work on the railroad.

    I think it will. There’s no tellin’ what kind of things we’re gonna see happen, Tyler. Pa looked out across the hard-packed ice covering Main Street, down the row of storefronts. A full beard framed his lower face. His warm brown eyes wrinkled at the edges and told you that a smile was coming before it filled the tired face.

    Tyler was shifting from foot to foot, bouncing, and hunching his shoulders against the bitter air. That’s sure what I’d like to see in Ann Arbor—the railroad. I’m gettin’ cold, Pa. Think I’ll head on home. See you at supper. He backed away, holding his body stiffly against the wind.

    Pa waved him on, then turned down Main Street toward the sawmill on the Huron River. Tyler wound his way back through town. The wind sent snow swirling around the hitching posts, and Tyler stepped carefully over icy patches. Today he wouldn’t stop in at Allen’s Dry Goods to hear the gossip; the fire department ordinance would be the only talk about town. He headed west from Main Street, out Liberty Street for nearly a mile, and then cut south down a path just before Eber White’s woods. The path led into a small clearing where one frame house stood tucked in among elm and maple trees. Tyler walked the shoveled passage between foot-high walls of snow, up to the front door.

    Tyler and a great gust of cold air swept into the kitchen, where six-year-old Emmy was kneeling over a tub of water, stubby fingers scrubbing potatoes for dinner. The kitchen was large and warm, the natural gathering place of the house. The only spots of color were the braided rag rug in front of the stove, a plump green cushion tied to the rocker, and the red-checkered tablecloth. Ordinary white curtains hung crookedly at the window.

    Emmy looked up. Hi, Ty. Did you see Pa?

    Yep. Fire department ordinance passed easy, Pa said. What’s that you’re fixin’? Tyler dropped his slate and lunch pail on the table.

    Stew. Pa left a piece of meat. Smells good, doesn’t it, Ty?

    He nodded as he tore a hunk of bread from the loaf on the table and shoved it into his mouth. He warmed himself at the woodstove for several minutes and then went out to the woodpile. He split wood each afternoon after school until the early winter darkness drove him in. Then, he and Emmy and Pa always sat down together to eat.

    Today Tyler did not interrupt his chopping, but

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