Nowhere to Be Found

By Richard Robbins

"If you read history you will find that the Christians who did most for the present world were precisely those who thought most of the next. It is since Christians have largely ceased to think of the other world that they have become so ineffective in this."
C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity.
The American revolution gave people the ability to think as they wanted, without fear of retribution. Religion became a highly discussed topic. The mere number of Camp meetings, and the number of those attending, three thousand to ten thousand people at each gathering, was a good indication of the interest in religion at the time. It should not surprise us then, that religion could be the main subject of discussion, even among young maturing persons.
This story of three companions, two young men and a young woman, demonstrate how the search for truth can affect lives. This should lead the way to spiritual introspection, the examination of our own souls.
Plato asked, “…why should we not calmly and patiently review our own thoughts, and thoroughly examine and see what these appearances in us really are?”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 31, 2019
• ISBN: 9781796056938

Richard Robbins

Richard’s novels explore important moral questions such as the price of fame, the nature of loss and redemption, and the meaning of life, through the lens of family dynamics. He lives with his wife in New Orleans and New York City, near their adult children, and his work is infused with the flavor of those vibrant and unique cities. Richard was named Louisiana Independent Author of the Year for 2020, and his works have won numerous awards, including Feathered Quill Book Awards and Readers’ Favorite Book Awards.

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CHAPTER 1

Settlers

Nothing is so serious as treating serious subjects in a trivial manner Erasmus

My name is Jacob Bennett, I’ve been told that I am way to serious about life, this just causes me additional pondering and meditating, which usually ends up making me even more serious. I feel I should be more serious about how serious I really am. What if I am not quite serious enough? I know I haven’t reached the point of being humorless or dour by nature, I just don’t take life in a casual manner. I’d rather be deadly serious about life than to be seriously dead to life.

The first time I was told I was way to serious, I wondered how that person became an authority on how to determine the different levels of seriousness? Is there a school they attend to develop that aptitude? Is there a limit on how serious a person can be? I’d love them if they could tell me when I’m not being quite serious enough. Is it worse to be too serious than it is to be too trivial? Would they consider God to be too serious? Maybe I should just thank them when they say to me, you’re too serious. Anyway, I’ve thought it through and have come to the conclusion that I might be too serious if I take them too seriously.

In two days, it will be March 20, 1789 and I will be 20 years of age. They say that 18 is the age of maturity, but a degree of being sensible hadn’t hit me until I realized, from moments of pondering, that I will have been on the earth for twenty whole years. The first inclination that came to me about the fact that I should be doing something with my life, came as my family were reading the scriptures one night. My brother, Jeremiah, read from 1Corinthians 13:11, When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things. I could not deny that at 20 years of age I should have become a man.

At the age of nineteen I have a lot to settle in my life. My life is stable and orderly but certainly not settled. Both of my parents tell me that I should go out and have more fun. There’s only one other person in the whole area my age to have fun with, and I consider him more sober than myself. There are no hers even near my age. In my own mind I don’t consider myself as being overly solemn, I just have a lot of decisions to make. I have feelings I’m trying to develop into thoughts, and my senses are alerted to needs I don’t yet know how to fulfil.

I do spend a lot of time thinking about religion which I owe to my upbringing. Attesting to the importance of religion in my rearing, my parents named me after the great prophet Jacob from the Bible. Our family takes the Bible seriously, we each have our own copy, and join in scripture reading nightly, but then most of the folks in the vicinity I know do the same thing. Not being around others of my age I don’t have any idea if my religious tendency is normal. I do know that God exists, and this knowledge leads me to a line of reasoning that validates my devotion to authenticate His reality. I have come to the realization that if you believe that God exists you are prone to believe that he has a plan for us, I just feel that finding this plan and following it should be the first intent of any human being. I also have a strong inherited belief that comes from a long line of Christian ancestors. The more I study the scriptures, the more my inherited beliefs, with the acquisition of knowledge, change to intellectual beliefs. My goal is to develop strong spiritual beliefs.

My grandparents on both my mother and fathers side had years ago come to America to partake of its promises. Though both from different countries, they had arrived in American just one year apart. They had both come for the same reasons, the first being religious freedom. When they arrived and settled in New York in 1750, it had a population of about 37,000 people. Attesting to the main purpose most were here; fourteen churches had already been established.

Once while having a family discussion, my father explained to us how bad his father had told him religious persecution had really become before they left the old country. They simply couldn’t believe in any church that was teaching what they believed to be false doctrine, and if they didn’t believe, they were tried as heretics, and in many cases put to death. I can remember asking my mother and father what religion their parents had finally joined. I knew that my parents didn’t belong to any particular sect, but was surprised when father told me that their parents couldn’t find a church, they could fully believe in. This brought up all kinds of questions that at some time I would have to consider. It seemed that my grandparents were typical of most people I was meeting, they left a country to escape religious persecution. They could no longer abide the practices of their church, but never had lost a belief or faith in God. One of my self-appointed missions, would be to end this lack of righteous direction, at least in my own life.

My parents have told me that I get my serious nature from my father’s parents who emigrated from Cardiff, Wales. My height, blonde hair and blue eyes are from my mother’s side who came from a long line of farmers in Orebro, Sweden. My father always tells me that if I want to see myself, to just look at my mother. My mother’s looks hadn’t changed in the 20 years I had lived with her. The older a Swede becomes, the better they age. They seemed to thrive off the land, and the harder they worked the better they wore in.

My mother had been told to seek a Welshman for a husband who can usually be identified by his wide eyes, sharp cheekbones, strong jaw, and his egalitarian ideals. A true Welshman believe in human equality, especially with respect to social, political and economics ideals. My parents had met in New York, after being married, they had soon taken up farming in Virginia, and from there had finally moved to Ohio. In 1789 Ohio was considered the American frontier with the Ohio River marking its boundaries. My family were some of the first settlers in Ohio and chose the city of Losantiville to be our home. The city was right on the Ohio River and was chosen by father because of its plentiful land and growth potential.

A frontier, being defined as a settlement with the density of two people per square mile, does not demand or offer many activities to consume one’s time other than a full work schedule. Life was giving me a lot of time to think, mostly while working, which works well for me because I have a lot to think about.

The other person living in the area that is about my same age is Matt Webb. Matt had come with his family from the Cotswold area of England known for its outstanding natural beauty and made wealthy by its wool trade. Matt had taken advantage of his situation and had gained an education from the best schools in the British nation. He looks the epitome of an educated gentleman. Our fortuitous friendship gives us both an outlet to explore the results of our personal and joint thoughts. Why he considers me an equal, I’ll never know. I did have the knack of asking the right questions; his gift was coming up with the right answers. The first time we met he didn’t say hello, I’m Matt Webb, or any other introductory niceties; he merely posed a question to me. He asked, If you had your choice of whether there should be a real God or not, what would you choose? I knew then that this relationship would be anything but normal.

I didn’t take the time to answer with anything profound, I just said, Don’t we have to make that choice on a daily basis? A slight nod of his head, and a studied smile led me to suppose that I had said the right thing. It was his perceptions of the ways of God that would have a great effect on the rest of my life.

I learned early in life, that every person knows something that I don’t. This made other folks very important to me, and at the time they were my best source of knowledge. There was nothing so minute that I didn’t want to know about it. Education is a rare commodity in our small township. We have one teacher, which limits our learning to the subjects she knows, which are: reading, writing, arithmetic, and a little history. To supplement these subjects, and increase our intelligence on other topics, we have to rely on gathering it ourselves from other sources. We don’t have a library in our town, so I can only imagine a whole building with shelves of books from floor to ceiling in every room. My vision of heaven is that it will be one large library, where I can spend my first one thousand years reading all that is available. I have always said to myself, I might be hungry, I might have no shelter or even clothing, but the first money I earn will be spent on books.

Our home was always our main inspiration for getting an education. I have a father, who being a religious man, teaches us that conscious neglect, or refusal to gain knowledge, is a declaration of our intention to stay ignorant, and is an affront to God and mankind. The problem, as stated, is that there is not an abundance of sources available for one to improve their mind. In our home, for example, we have three books; the Bible, William Defoe’s Robinson and Crusoe, and a small collection of William Shakespeare’s writings, all of which had to be shared with a family of eight. Just so all will know; I have always believed the Bible to be the greatest source of knowledge on the earth. You could read it over, and over, again and again, and still never learn all it had to teach.

My mother, though not formally educated herself, taught me that it was the mind that determines the extent of a person’s happiness. She had a way of reasoning things out until they made sense. I came to the conclusion early that I would rather master how I use common sense, than gain an education without the capability of logic or reason. My mother provided what she called, a family writing pad, where each of us as we learned or thought of a new truth could jot down the statement or thought for the advancement of the rest of the family. One of these statements said, Believe nothing, no matter where you read it, or who said it, unless it agrees with your own reason, and your own common sense. It was a statement attributed to a man named Buddha. I know this approach to gaining truth will serve me well for years to come.

Father always said, If you want to get to the truth of a matter, it’s best to go to the source. One of the best sources of knowledge that we have, are the many people passing through on their way to find their dream in the new world. I find myself having an eager ear for any new information I can find. We lived at a crossroads for people traveling in many different directions, they’re always looking for information about the frontier, and its many opportunities, and are more than interested in spending time in conversation. I take advantage of this opportunity, and through the exchange of facts have learned about everything: from the French Revolution, to politics in England, to changes in religion throughout the world. Mine, is a very inquisitive mind. I had made an art out of how to gain information, for example, if I was asked a question about the frontier I would say, I’ll give you the answer if you will tell me something I don’t already know about your country and its people. Most laughed and gave me a tidbit.

Most of my time to date, has been taken up on our farm. When we aren’t planting, growing, or harvesting our fields, we are clearing ground to expand our planting acreage. We have a total of 150 acres, and in the three years we had lived here, we have managed to clear approximately one third of our land. Our day usually starts about 5:00 in the morning and ends around 7:00 in the evening. There isn’t much time to do anything other than work, and if there is something to do, I’m usually too tired to do it. Father’s always taught us that hard work now, would make light work for us in our later years. We always take Saturday afternoon, and Sunday’s off work. Thank the Lord for the commandment to rest on the Sabbath. I soon learned, that the Lord gave every commandment to benefit me for some good reason or other.

CHAPTER 2

The Lacroixes

I spend most of my Saturday afternoons down at the docks by the river. This seemed to be the gathering place for most of the folks in the vicinity. On one occasion I noticed a family, a mother, father, and five children sitting on their trunks near the dock. They seemed to be waiting for some sort of conveyance to take them on the next phase of their journey. They looked wonderful as they were very finely dressed but were certainly not dressed for travel on the frontier. They looked somewhat unsettled, even to the point of being distressed. I thought the least I could do was to offer them some sort of solace. I had cleaned up earlier, and had put clean clothes on, so I guess I looked somewhat presentable as I approached them, at least I didn’t appear to be a threat to them. I introduced myself as Jacob Bennett. It wasn’t hard to tell their point of origin. In very broken English, with a noted French accent, I was informed that they were the Lacroix family. The father’s name was Pierre, and his wife was Francine, Paulette their oldest daughter offered a modest smile at her introduction, and Francis and Charles, both young sons, half nodded their heads as they were introduced. The other two children were a toddler playing with a stick horse, and a baby, asleep in its mother’s arms.

I told them that I lived in the area on a farm no more than a mile from here. I asked where they might be from and was excited when the father told me they were from just outside of Paris, France. A million questions shot through my mind, but their predicament seemed to be the primary concern.

I was told that they had been waiting most of the day. They were to have been met early that morning by a man named Ben Sutton, the father asked, Do you know this Sutton fellow?

I answered, No. and then asked what was to me, the obvious question, Did you pay him in advance?

I posted him the money over a month ago. Pierre seemed to instantly recognize his err as he gave his answer.

I gave him the unwanted news, that there were those that were inclined to take advantage of folks along the frontier, and that Ben must have been this sort of person.

Giving credit to Pierre, and his wife, they seemed to accept this information as though they had learned another of lives lessons and started thinking of alternatives. Pierre asked, Is there a place they could stay for a couple of nights, an Inn or some sort of lodging?

I informed him that there was not an Inn in the area, not even a Tavern, but that Mrs. Pettigrew, had a sort of guesthouse where folk often stayed. Since it was just a short distance away, I offered to go, and find out if she might have room for them. On my return, I was sad to tell them that the guesthouse was full, she even had folks staying in the servant’s quarters.

Figuring that it just wasn’t proper to leave a family in a new country to fend for themselves, I invited them to come and stay at our home. Sometimes doing what’s right just outweighs whether it can be done or not. When I presented the idea to the Lacroix family, they were at first very reluctant, but it didn’t take long to convince them that almost anyplace would be better than staying on the docks overnight. Funny enough, it was their daughter Paulette that put an end to the debate, in almost perfect English she said, Thank you Jacob, we accept your invitation and will try not to put you out too much. The father and mother seemed to accept her decision.

I looked at them, and their belongings, and said, It won’t take me but a half an hour to gather up a wagon to take you to the farm. It wasn’t hard for me to make this decision on my own, since I knew well the disposition of my parents. My father or mother would have done the same thing. I left the Lacroixes with a little more hope than they had before I had arrived and ran almost the whole distance home. A quick entrance, and a much earlier arrival than they had expected, put my parents on notice that I needed their attention.

Mother asked, Isaac, I’ve never known you to be in such an all fired hurry, is everything okay?

A good judge of most situations, father recognizing a need, could tell I was in sort of a quandary and said, You’d better sit down, catch your breath, and tell us what has happened.

I informed them that I had invited a family to stay the rest of the day, and night at our home. I told them of the Lacroixes’ plight. Mother, and father agreed that I had done the right thing. I was told to get the wagon ready, and to go, and bring them back while the family prepared the home for their visit. There was no grumbling, or complaining, as everyone began preparing, there was an anticipation, or eagerness for a new adventure.

When I returned the Lacroixes seemed relieved, and without hesitation as though each had their assignment, they loaded their belongings on to the buckboard wagon. Mrs. Lacroix, and Paulette sat up front with me, and the rest of the family made themselves comfortable in the box. They admired the country and took note of every new sight along the way. They were impressed with the farms spotted throughout the valley, the orderly way in which they were planted, and the large variety of crops. There was much land that was not farmed. Pierre turned to his wife, Francine could you ever have believed there would be so much unused land.

When we arrived at our farm, the Lacroixes were very impressed, and it made me proud that my family took pride in their surroundings. Our home was larger than most homes on the frontier. My parents had imagined the kind of life they wanted to live, and built a home to handle it, room to welcome occasional visitors had been part of that plan. Abundant gardens of both vegetables and flowers decorated the entrance to our home and gave it a sense of refuge.

My family spilled from the front door, and I made the proper introductions, "We’re the Bennett family. This is my father James; my mother Martha; the next oldest in the family is Jeremiah; my sisters, Isabela, Esther and Ruth; my youngest bother Joshua; and my last sister Gretta.

Paulette did the introductions for her family. She said, You will notice that I do most of the talking for my family. I learned English from a very close friend, my family is learning fast, and are pretty much speaking for themselves. This is my mother Francine; my father Pierre; these are my brothers, Francis and Charles; my younger sister Suzette; and our baby boy George.

My family gathered up their luggage and trunks, not allowing the Lacroixes to have to carry even a small bag one more step. My mother invited them into the house where she had managed to have our large family table almost covered with food. This seemed to be something women could do food just seems to appear out of nowhere.

Dad suggested we set down, and eat, and get better acquainted, and after getting the children settled for bed the adults could discuss the best way the Lacroix family could be helped. One of the Lacroix brothers, Charles, in a most humble way asked, Are all Americans as kind and friendly as you? We as a Bennett family then knew that their problems had become ours.

It didn’t take long to finish dinner and get the children settled. We had a large covered back porch and had laid out several beds in a row for the younger children to sleep on. The weather was perfect at this time of the year and the Bennett and Lacroix children mingled freely and settled in for what to them was considered an outing. This makeshift bedroom allowed other rooms for the older children. Even with the excitement, the Lacroix children were sleeping as soon as their heads hit the pillows. It was evident that in the many hours of travel, sleep had been sporadic. Mother noticing this asked Pierre and Francine if they would like to go right to bed. She assured them that any discussion could wait until morning. Father added that tomorrow was the Sabbath, which would allow them plenty of time to just sit and talk.

Without even knowing what religion we followed, Paulette declared their willingness to church with go with us tomorrow."

The only way father could reply was, Well, right now we are between religions, it is hard for us to determine which one we want to attend. We have decided for the time being to just have our own services at home you are more than welcome to join us, or it may be that the church you attend has a local meeting, although I don’t know of any sects meeting in our area, we could find out.

Settling the dilemma, Pierre added We would love to join in your services if it wouldn’t be distracting.

Throughout the evening I couldn’t take my eyes off Paulette. More than once she caught me staring at her. She had a very demure way of letting me know that she didn’t disapprove my behavior, a little smile and a lowering of her head in a modest manner seemed to encourage my fascination with her. So, this is what a girl my age looks like! I thought her the most attractive girl I had seen, realizing of course that she was one of the very few girls I had ever seen. It was evident that she had a brilliant mind that was never used to declare her pre-eminence but controlled to be used only as it would benefit others or bring meaning to her own life. Her very nature was a paradox, at one moment she seemed a very frail helpless girl, tiny in features almost porcelain to look at, while her very next actions proved her to be almost a tomboy who could take care of herself no matter the occasion.

It took a little longer than usual to get everyone settled in. When father showed Pierre and Francine where they would be sleeping, Francine said, I’m sure that this is your bed?

Without hesitation Pierre said, Where will you be sleeping? Father showed them an adequate bed in a spare room, Pierre said, That will suit us fine. Without further ado, he moved their baggage into the spare room.

As was our custom, our family joined around the hearth in nightly prayer, the Lacroixes that were still awake were invited to join us. I was asked by father to say the prayer. I was accustomed to praying and felt no embarrassment in praying before guest in our home. I thanked the Lord for the abundances that we received, for a family that was whole and well. I asked a blessing on one of our neighbors who had broken his leg, and then thanked the Lord for our new friends, the Lacroixes. I asked for a blessing on them that they would find their way in a new country, and after asking for a good night’s rest, we all retired to our various beds. Paulette put her hand on my shoulder, and said, Jacob your prayer was very considerate, thank you.

As usual the first person to arise the next morning was mother, it wasn’t long before she was fixing breakfast, and not too long after that Francine joined her, and helped her with the cooking. I never knew a family that could stay in bed long when the whiff of bacon and biscuits filled the morning air. The family started drifting in, and it wasn’t long before our large table was filled to capacity, of course we had to set almost shoulder to shoulder to fit everyone around the table, but it gave us a feeling of belonging together.

It was evident that the Lacroix’s were not accustomed to such a plentiful breakfast. We found out later that there was a shortage of food in Paris because of the problems the whole country seemed to be having. Pierre told