Inn-By-The-Bye Stories - 1

By William Flewelling

In an endeavor to find a fresh way into the scriptural text upon which I would be preaching, I began to develop an imaginary world, populated primarily by wee folk. I found that the characters I developed and the way that they evolved in my mind and on the page served me well as a consideration of how I sensed things happening in the scriptural text at hand. I want to make these stories and the world they represent newly accessible, and so I begin bringing them to book form.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: May 18, 2015
• ISBN: 9781504912921

William Flewelling

I am a retired minister from the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) living in central Illinois. Led by a request from Mildred Corwin of Manua OH when I arrived there in 1976, I long developed and led a series of bible studies there and in LaPorte IN and New Martinsville WV. These studies proved to be very feeding to me in my pastoral work and won a certain degree of following in my congregations. My first study was on 1 Peter, chosen because I knew almost nothing about the book. I now live quietly in retirement with my wife of 54 years, a pair of dogs and several cats.

Book preview

I

‘It is not right. I tell you, Thyruid, it is not right! We should not have to take those bull-headed, ornery …’

‘Wait a minute, Walter. We cannot be so rude with those men, just because they live on the other side of the valley.’

‘That is not what I mean, Thyruid. Look at it my way.’

‘You mean to tell me that you really think you are right!’

‘Yes, I do. They had their opportunity to move here long ago. They have the same opportunity we have. They just decided to go their way. Why should we have to even consider them at all?’

‘Walter. Walter. Look around you. See this Inn? It is my joy. I have built this place myself. But these beams have sheltered all the people who came to my open doors and sat around my tables and were willing to receive my hospitality. This is an Inn, Walter. This is a house for people to enter in.’

‘Yes, Thyruid: for people. But I am talking about those others. They have made my life hard. They have not dealt favorably with me. They even cast me away from their markets. Thyruid: we should do the same to them.’

And with that Walter slammed his fist upon the table, finished his mug, stood up and walked out the door. Plump Thyruid, the gentle Inn Keeper watched him go. He followed his angry neighbor to the door and watched him stride across the Commons, the popular yard before the well loved Inn-by-the-Bye. In his concern, Thyruid wiped his hands on his long apron in time to the harsh footsteps of the disappearing Walter. ‘It is not well. It is not a good thing’ muttered Thyruid, easing back to his daily chores.

‘What was all that about, Thyruid?’ The soft voice belonged to his wife, Marthuida. She had come from the kitchen where she had been working to prepare for the supper crowd. ‘Walter sounded angry! Is everything OK?’

‘Yes. Yes, Marthuida … . No, not really. Walter is upset about the people across the valley.’

‘You mean the old Leaferites?’

‘Yes, those people, the Leaferites. He forgets all we owe to them in our past. They were the ones who built a foundation upon which we could build. I know they were not happy with the way we started. They saw us as competition … . Thank you, Marthuida, that is a cool mug. You find the best ways to keep it cool and fresh!’

The shadows of evening were beginning to come across the Commons. Dinner time had come and the wee folk had started to turn to the Inn. Marthuida’s suppers were known by everyone. Her skill in the kitchen did more to build that Inn-by-the-Bye than all of Thyruid’s bluster. But she would never let him know that! Thyruid was still lost in thought as the first guests began to come into the Inn. His thoughts were interrupted quickly by a dozen greetings: ‘Hi, Thyruid! What is good tonight?’

Startled out of his mood, Thyruid snapped quickly into the work of Innkeeper. ‘Hello John, how is the foundry doing? And James, how is the barrel shop? And Mary, how are the flowers selling? Hello, Gilbert and Chert and Martha. How are the spinners? Benito! My craftsman friend! Are my new brass trimmings ready?’ And so they came, these and many more from the fields of Hyperbia. Thyruid was ever the host.

Quickly the orders were made. The mugs of milk circled widely. The cups were refilled form the handy pitchers. Marthuida quickly filled the orders, and the friendly chatter filled the room with the relaxed delight of a summer evening among long time friends. Thyruid stayed busy. And in his happy busyness, he forgot Walter, and he forgot the Leaferites.

‘Hey, Thyruid! Don’t forget us!’ The call came from the Commons. The happy Innkeeper grabbed the super mugs – as big as he is and full of milk – and carried them outside to the children, to Yves and Betsy, the newcomers to Hyperbia who were far too big to fit into the Inn. Thyruid’s Inn-by-the-Bye was made for the wee folk, the old timers. ‘Hello, my great friends,’ Thyruid called up to the children whom he had taken as his own, as his foster children. ‘Is this not a lovely night?’

Around the bend, into the darkening Commons came Geoffrey, the ever proper gentleman’s gentleman without a gentleman. He was worried; you could tell by the way he walked. Just seeing him reminded Thyruid: ‘Geoffrey, what is the news?’ ‘Ah, Thyruid, Walter is angry and foolish. There will be trouble, I fear. He forgets who we are. He forgets our roots. He forgets everything! Why do we have such a hot-head around here?

‘Yes, I wish we could hold ourselves together. The Leaferites have so much, and we have only borrowed it for ourselves. I wish we could have peace. That is why Hyperbia began in the first place.’ The two men stood and looked into the shadows of night. Their faces were furrowed with care. Behind them, the children played and the guests enjoyed their dinners. Watching can be so hard, particularly when so few look with care.

30 August 1981

II

‘Effie, this is crazy. Nothing good will come of going down to the valley and seeking their help. We hill folk take care of our own, our way. You need to remember that. We do not need them. And they do not need us. They do not want us.’

‘Jasper, I am going. All that I can find in these hills are walls. I can find no answers. I am hungry. I am going in the morning.’

Thus said, Effie went to her bed in the loft, leaving her older brother to ponder the problems they knew, studying the dying embers of the cottage hearth. Life had always been hard in these hills. The effect was to harden the hands and strengthen the backs of hard working people. Some of the best workers lived in the hills. Jasper muttered: ‘These are our friends, a fiercely independent sort of folk. They do for themselves. That is how it is. And that is how it should be. That is how we should do, too.’

Angry with himself and with his sister, Jasper found himself growing cold inside as the fire blinked and drowsed into ash. Alone in the dark, Jasper was hungry. But there was no food. Jasper would have worked last week. But there were no jobs in the hills. He was young. He would find something. No one was going to get him to go to the valley to ask for help.

Dawn came that morning. The light was a welcome stranger to the sleepless Jasper. He was grumpy when Effie came down, ready to leave. ‘I wish you would not go, Effie.’ ‘Why? What reason is there for staying? I am hungry and there is no relief here. Don’t you see that, Jasper?’ He just turned and stared out the window, saying nothing. ‘Good-bye, Jasper. I need to leave now. I will be in the low lands they call the Fields.’ And she left her brother’s silence.

Effie went to the path down. She had never left the hills before. She had never taken this path before. Now, she calmed her nervous and empty stomach and began the journey down to the Fields of Hyperbia. As she walked down the steep and narrow path, winding down the hills toward the valley which opens onto the Fields, she remembered her heritage. For generations, her parents and their parents had worked in the hills. They had done their work, they said, themselves. Even in the days long gone, fabled in the lore of the hills, when food and work was scarce, every man did for himself. She had seen that dogged and determined independence break her father and leave her mother bitter to the grave. She saw it crushing her brother.

The path became steeper. Effie was increasingly unsure of her step. She did not know where she was going. And she was beginning to become afraid. She was now more by herself than she had ever been before in her life. Jasper had always been around. Now he was in the cottage, alone on the hill. She thought of going back, but knew there was nothing there for her, nor for her brother who would not leave. Effie sat down to rest.

‘Which way are you going?’ The young girl’s voice startled Effie. She blushed as she tried to say she was going to the Fields, to look for work. ‘Well, I am going that way, too. Do you mind some company?’ No one had ever asked Effie such a question. ‘No, I guess I don’t mind some company. Do you know where you are going?’ The other girl’s infectious smile warmed the moment like an evening fire. ‘Yes. I have been here before, many times. I love these hills. I was raised there. Would you like some bread? It is near lunch time.’ ‘Thank you. I, … I guess I could have some.’

The bread tasted good, and felt even better in Effie’s empty stomach. She thought of her brother, wishing Jasper had some of it, too.

After a brief lunch, the two began to walk. Effie soon noticed that her companion limped. Carymba – for that is the companion’s name – smiled. ‘Yes, the limp is a bother at times. I hardly notice it, though, except when I wish I could hurry. But going slowly lets me notice things. By the way, my name is Carymba.’ ‘Mine is Effie.’

Shortly, they reached the valley. Effie looked all around. She wanted to go back; she wanted to run ahead. She walked along with Carymba because she did not know what else to do. The valley flattened out into the Fields. As Effie looked around, she saw more people than she had ever seen. And they looked like they were working together, a sight she had never seen.

‘Do you have a place to go, Effie?’ ‘No, I don’t’ she confessed. ‘Then why not come with me to the Inn-by-the-Bye? That is always a good place to begin. It certainly was for me when I first came to the Fields!’ Effie had nothing she could say, so she went along, forgetting that she had no money.

‘Thyruid!’ called Carymba as they entered the Commons. ‘Thyruid, come and meet my new friend, Effie.’ Effie blushed as Thyruid came quickly out to greet her. ‘Welcome to my Inn! I am always pleased to meet a friend of Carymba!’ And with that Thyruid escorted her into the Inn where she sat down, feeling very strange to the whole scene of the Fields. Food was given her, along with a mug of milk. No one had ever been like this before, not in her experience. She wished Jasper had come, too. He would never believe this!

‘Carymba!’ she said, as she was startled by the memory that she had no money. ‘What am I going to do? I have no money to pay for this. I have no work. This is not right!’ And she started to leave. ‘Wait, Effie. Meet Gilbert. He is a spinner, a good man. He works with Chert and Martha. When you learn our ways down here, you find that doors are open, even before you knock.’ Effie waited as Carymba hobbled over to another table. ‘Gilbert, I want you to meet a friend. She needs some help.’ Gilbert got up and came over and sat down. ‘Hello, Effie …’ he began.

6 September 1981

III

‘Let’s do something different today, Yves. I am getting tired of just watching these people. I would like to go exploring! Which way shall we go, Yves? How about over that way? I wonder what is beyond the Leaferites’ Hill.’

‘Ah, Betsy: there’s nothing over there. How about finding a fishing hole instead?’

‘Who wants to fish?! I want some adventure. Don’t you ever get curious, Yves?’

‘Ok. Ok, Betsy. We’ll go exploring.’ Yves was not very eager to go. He was tired of his sister’s nagging, but her enthusiasm and curiosity had not entered his heart. He knew that they had to be careful of the wee folk because they were so big. He wondered if they should tell Thyruid where they were going, but didn’t since he didn’t know and Betsy was already leaving. ‘Wait for me, Betsy!’ he cried as he hurried after his sister.

The children walked together across the Commons and down the valley. They were soon out of sight of the Inn-by-the-Bye and the sense of adventure, once begun, soon took over the thoughts of the children. Only when their stomachs became empty would they remember Thyruid and Marthuida. For now, the newness of the land kept their interest at a keen level. They noticed the homes of the Leaferites, up the hill side on the far side of the valley, looking across the Commons, back to the Inn and over to the home of the hill folk. Finally, Betsy said, ‘Just a bit more and we will turn the corner, around that bend. Then we’ll find some new world to explore!’ Even Yves was getting curious by now: ‘Yes, it won’t be long now.’ The nearness of the never-before-seen lent an air of excitement to their walk.

Soon they were around the corner and found a fresh Plain before them. They paused and looked around; they did not know where they were. In the shadow they saw a road stretching along past some small houses. The road turned off across the plain before it reached them, almost as if it were telling the wee folk of the Plain that they should go no further. On the other side, off to their right, there was a city. At least it looked like a city. There was a large building there with a large number of smaller ones clustered about it. The road ran straight into the city.

‘Well, Betsy, we are here. Let’s go look at the big place.’ And they did.

Of course, when they arrived, the big place was too small for them. And the people inside were frightened by the unknown giants outside, for that is what they supposed the children to be.

Yves and Betsy flopped themselves down on the ground: the houses shook and the city dwellers were afraid for their lives. Nothing like this had ever disturbed their place before. The children just wanted to look and listen. Perhaps there were more friends here, as they had found after they suddenly appeared in Hyperbia, on the Fields. Perhaps … they looked on innocently.

‘Osburn! What are you going to do now?’ The words came from the big house. The voice which said those words was angry and frightened. Yves and Betsy looked at each other, then back at the house, with interest. ‘I don’t know. Why look at me?’ returned another voice. ‘That must be Osburn’ thought Yves. ‘Because you are the boss around here. That’s why. You have been in charge and you have collected for yourself this house, and a new one on the bluff above us. You have raised taxes and reduced the welfare of our people. Now we are threatened all of a sudden and you ought to do something!’ Anger was coming over the voice, even more than fear.

‘Margent! This is unnecessary. I must retire to my new house.’ And with that Osburn strutted out, and across the plain, and up a nearly hidden path to his new house. Betsy sat up and looked toward it, well up the back of the valley of the plain. ‘I bet that is really a mountain to these people.’

‘Margent?’ asked Yves, frightening the poor man half to death. ‘What is going on here?’ The voice was that of a curious, inquiring child. He did not shout, although the size of Yves made his voice sound louder in Margent’s ears. Shaking, the man Margent peered out of the window, up at Yves. He felt he had to talk, but was not sure where he was going to find any sound to come out.

‘Os … Os … Osburn … he is, was our leader. He has been responsible for this land, the Plain from the road along the wall to the Great River.’ He waved his hand to show the direction to the river, in the distance beyond their sight. ‘He built this place, and that house on the bluff. He has taken care of himself. But the farmers are hungry. The poor in the city are hungry. He does not care.

‘Why don’t you do something? You can do as well. At least you care about the other folk. Let him have his house on the bluff. There is room for a garden up there. He won’t starve.’

The color was returning to Margent’s face. And he thought. ‘We can try it’ he decided. And turned to his aides and said ‘Shall we? Yes. Call the people together. This shall be their day. Only, we shall be faithful.’ Looking back at Yves, he shuddered: ‘We must be faithful.’

The time had approached lunch time and Yves was getting hungry. His stomach growled gently; it was that first rumble that promised more to come until lunch ended the noon day emergency. ‘Betsy, let’s find the Inn. I’m hungry.’ She agreed and they left, leaving the busy and hopeful planning of Margent and the people of the Plain behind them. When Margent looked back, Yves and Betsy had disappeared toward the Leaferites’ Hill, back toward the Fields of Hyperbia.

They turned the sudden bend in the road (it had not been there before, until they needed the Inn) and came to the Inn-by-the-Bye. ‘Thyruid! Marthuida! Guess where we have been!’ They cried: ‘Where have you been? It is late for lunch!’ ‘We went exploring. We went by the Leaferites’ Hill. We saw the Plain and met Osburn – he wasn’t very nice – and Margent.