Undying Spirit

By David T. Sanders

Undying Spirit is a captivating novel that tells the story of a woman left alone to raise her twin daughters after being abandoned by her husband. Despite the challenges that come with being a single mother, she embarks on a remarkable journey that takes her through various government services and agriculture pursuits, including vineyards in two different countries.

This inspiring tale is a testament to the undying spirit of a mother’s love and resilience. The main character faces many obstacles along the way, but she never gives up. Instead, she harnesses her strength and determination to provide for her family and create a better life for her daughters.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Jun 23, 2023
• ISBN: 9781649797933

David T. Sanders

David T. Sanders is a professional geologist and published author with international experience as a U.S. Air Force officer and as a consulting geologist.

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About the Author

David T. Sanders is a professional geologist and published author with international experience as a U.S. Air Force officer and as a consulting geologist.

Dedication

This novel is dedicated to a Japanese-American family that my father moved onto our farm in Utah during World War II.

Copyright Information ©

David T. Sanders 2023

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

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

Ordering Information

Quantity sales: Special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the publisher at the address below.

Publisher’s Cataloging-in-Publication data

Sanders, David T.

Undying Spirit

ISBN 9781649797919 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781649797926 (Hardback)

ISBN 9781649797933 (ePub e-book)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023907502

www.austinmacauley.com/us

First Published 2023

Austin Macauley Publishers LLC

40 Wall Street, 33rd Floor, Suite 3302

New York, NY 10005

USA

[e-mail]

[phone]

Acknowledgment

The contributions of Joy Jennings Danziger and Amar Dhariwal in proofreading and editing are gratefully acknowledged.

Chapter One

Abandoned

The realization that she and her daughters were alone, totally alone, in a strange land that she knew nothing about and where she had no friends or acquaintances, frightened Marcela like nothing had done so before in her twenty-three years on this earth. She stood on a wooden platform attached to an abandoned train depot. Marcy and Mary, her five-year-old twins, sat on a dilapidated bench, staring at a train that was pulling away. She didn’t think it was wise to tell the girls that she had seen their father jump into a boxcar pulled by a train headed in the opposite direction from the train on which they had traveled.

Everything that she and the girls owned, they were wearing or was contained in a worn suitcase at her feet and the purse that hung from her shoulder. She had given the last few dollars of paper money in that purse to her husband, Jake Wilson, when he left her, saying he would find them a ride into town. The only money she had now were a few coins.

Walking to the end of the platform, Marcela stepped down onto a graveled roadway and walked to the back of the building, looking across a bleak landscape comprised of tall, dry grass and scattered trees. No town could be seen in any direction. The roadway seemed not to have been used for a long time. Jake has abandoned us in a godforsaken place, she told herself, having no idea why he had done that.

She and Jake had not had a happy marriage. The love they thought they had for each other on the day they ran away from homes in the hills of northern California to get married in Reno had vanished after the twins were born. Jake had never found work to support a family. A great deal of the money Marcela was able to make at various jobs, as a waitress, cleaning houses, or cooking for other families, Jake spent on liquor. They had always lived in shacks or house-trailers among other poor people. She had made no good friends after leaving the home where she was born and raised.

Jake kept them moving from town to town, always expecting to find an easy way to make money. In Elko, three days earlier, that had led him to an attempt to rob a stranger on a dark street. That attempt failed and they were forced to flee on the next train.

The train was headed to Denver. Why Jake had told his family that an aunt in northwestern Utah would let them stay with her, and why he chose this place for them to leave the train, they would never know for certain.

As hard as Marcela tried, she could not think of a course of action to assure the survival of her and the girls she dearly loved. Back in front of the depot building, she found a door unlocked and entered to find a dark, dusty space with no furnishings. The girls followed her, but being afraid, they stood just inside the door as their mother searched throughout one large room and two adjacent, small rooms.

A filthy bathroom was found. The fixtures were cracked and full of debris, but there was running cold water. In another room, there was an old, rusted iron bed frame, two rusted metal chairs, and a broken, wooden table.

Back outside, the more outgoing daughter, Marcy, asked, Where are we, Mother, and where is Father?

Marcela replied, I wish I knew.

Mary’s question was just as unanswerable in an honest way, What are we going to do now?

Find a way to survive like we always have, her mother said. You girls sit back on the bench while I look around some more.

Knowing the girls would be constantly afraid of staying in the remnants of the depot building, Marcela had to find some other type of shelter. They could not sleep on the platform. What she found would have been totally unacceptable in any other circumstance, but there was a wooden shack close to the depot to which she had paid no attention when she walked by earlier. It had doors that functioned and windows that could be cleaned to let in light. Inside the shack there was a free-standing iron stove, but no furniture.

Cleaning would be required for them to stay in the shack and night was approaching. Behind the shack, Marcela turned over a trash barrel that contained some dirty rags and a rusted kettle that would still hold water. There was a chopping block, some split kindling, and a few small logs there as well. She carried the wood inside and went to get the girls.

She asked them to help her carry the bench to a shack that she had found. That proved difficult. The bench was not very heavy, but it was falling apart. With the bench repositioned near the stove in the shack, Marcela asked the girls to wait there while she went to get water to start cleaning.

In the depot bathroom, she ran cold water in the sink and flushed the toilet many times while she cleaned them the best she could with cold water and a rag. She left the depot with the kettle containing water in one hand and their suitcase in the other.

Jake smoked cigarettes, nearly constantly, and was often asking for matches, so Marcela carried some in her purse. With a match, a tissue from her purse, and slivers of wood torn from a piece of kindling, a fire was started in the stove. As it grew with the addition of kindling and a log, the kettle was placed on the stove. While the water warmed, Marcela went to search the depot building again. In a closet in the room with rusted furniture, she found a kerosene lamp. The glass chimney was cracked but a wick and some kerosene were still in it. There was also a pile of rags from which she shook off thick dust. Those things were taken back to the shack where Marcela found the water was warm. She washed down the bench.

Darkness arrived. Marcela lit the lamp and escorted the girls to the bathroom. Returning, she spread out her coat and theirs, taken from the suitcase, on the bench and helped position the girls where they could, hopefully, get some sleep.

Marcela sat on the floor next to her loved ones and spoke softly until they fell asleep, trying to assure them that everything was going to be alright, even though she did not know how that could possibly be the case. She slept a few hours on a spot she had cleaned, with her back against a wall behind the stove, while keeping the fire burning. They had gone to sleep hungry.

The evening temperature dropped, but the shack did not become cold until near sunrise. Marcela was awake before the girls and put more wood in the stove. While the twins were still asleep, she spent more time searching the surroundings. To her surprise, chickens had been left behind when the site was abandoned. She found a nest and carried two hands full of eggs that seemed recently laid. The eggs stayed below boiling water in the kettle and were ready to eat when the girls woke up. Marcela accompanied them to the bathroom once more before they ate boiled eggs for breakfast.

The whistle on a train was heard. Marcela ran to the side of the track waving a rag. The engineer waved back but did not slow the train. During that first day, other attempts to flag down trains going in each direction were unsuccessful. Marcela concluded that her husband had asked the conductor to have their train stop to let them off where there had not been an authorized stop for years. Thoughts about lying on the track, hoping she would be seen before being run over, and building a fire on the track were dismissed. Marcela decided she must find some form of civilization. A mine or community might be nearby, she concluded, for there must have been a reason for sidetrack and the depot.

On the east side of the tracks, there was a fence with a gate on a roadway. Somewhat of a road was seen on the other side. That area was not fenced, so Marcela decided they should walk in that direction. Holding a hand of each girl, she led the way westward on a roadway overgrown by short grass. They walked slowly. Thinking it might help to calm the girls’ fears and her trepidation, Marcela sang songs and recited nursery rhymes with them. After walking a couple of miles, they came to a swampy area where the roadway ended. Noticing wild asparagus growing at the edge of the swamp, Marcela explained that it was a vegetable that was good to eat and began breaking off sprigs a few inches long. A short piece of wood about one-foot wide was located and the asparagus was stacked on it by Mary. While that was happening, Marcy walked up a slope to admire small blooming flowers. As she picked a bloom by the stem, sand fell away and a bulb was exposed.

Look Mother. Do you think we could eat this, too? Marcy shouted as she held up the bulb.

I am so hungry, I think I could eat the dirt around it, Marcela answered. Gather as many as you can, dear. We will take them back and see how they taste.

Carrying the small plants by the stems, Marcy brought back about a dozen Sego Lily bulbs. She brushed sand from the bulbs and laid them on top of the asparagus. With the board cradled in Marcela’s arms, they started back. The time gathering food had been good for the girls. They skipped along the road ahead of their mother.

The only way to cook their find was by boiling in the old kettle. As she prepared to do that, Marcela told the girls that they would be eating something many considered a tasty vegetable, but there was no telling what the bulbs would taste like. They were boiled together, and Marcela poured some of the boiling water on the piece of wood before dumping the contents back on the board. Once cooled, the girls began nibbling at their afternoon meal.

Marcy remarked, They are both good, Mother, much better than dirt.

They devoured everything, like the half-starved family they might soon become. Unfortunately, they had nothing from which to drink. They walked to use the bathroom where they drank from a tap with cupped hands.

When the girls laid back on the coats to take a nap, Marcela went on another walk. She had seen a lump of coal lying near the track. Knowing that the small amount of firewood left by a woodcutter would not keep the shack warm for long and she had no way to cut more, Marcela hoped to find more coal spilled from coal-cars along the track. She saw a broken, wooden box in the weeds next to the track. With a ballast rock, she hammered nails in place after reshaping the box. Reasoning that a sharp curve in the track ahead was where more coal could have fallen, she walked a mile, or more, along the track to that area. She found enough coal to fill the box and carried it back to the stove.

Thinking their next meal would have to be eggs again, Marcela gathered another half dozen. When the girls woke from naps, a walk in the other direction on the unused roadway began. The gate had no lock, so they went on down the road. They had walked about a mile when they heard a train whistle and the sound of steel wheels coming to a stop. Turning around, they ran back. Reaching the gate, they saw a freight train far down the track.

The train had brought them company. Three people were standing, bewildered, next to the track. As the two groups of lost souls joined, their different nationalities and possessions became clear. The newcomers were oriental, a middle-aged man and two teenaged children, a boy and a girl. The young ones were much older than the twins. The girl asked, in English, where they were and showed disappointment on her face when Marcela told her she did not know.

The family had a lot of baggage, belongings rolled in quilts and rugs, with leather straps around the rolls, and in canvas bags. Marcela suggested that the group move the baggage to the depot platform. There, the abandonment of Marcela and her daughters was explained. The newcomers were told about the shack and the condition of the building behind them. The oriental girl said her name was Suzi, her brother’s name was Casumi, and her father was Hirohito Akiama and that they were Japanese Americans.

The story Suzi told of how they ended up there was incredible: They had been taken from their farm north of San Francisco by armed men a few months after the Empire of Japan’s planes bombed Pearl Harbor. They were not allowed to take anything from their home, except what they could carry. From then, until now, they had traveled in a railroad boxcar into which men had locked them and given them little food or water. Suzi continued, Two men made us get out here. I heard one say that this was not the area where other Japs had settled. The other man said that this was close enough for them to walk from here.

How could such a thing happen in America? Marcela asked.

I know the country is at war with Japan, Suzi responded. But we are Americans. Casumi and I were born in California and Father lived there for more than forty years, although he does not speak much English and was born in Japan.

And I thought my life had been tough, Marcela said.

What can we do now? Casumi interjected.

Marcela replied, We need to look for a community, a farm, or a mining operation where there might be people to help us. Going west we found no one. We were walking east when we heard a train stopping, something that we had tried to make happen. We ran back in time to see the train leaving. I suggest that we go further down that road in the morning.

Do you have anything to eat? Suzi asked.

We have eaten eggs gathered from nests behind the building and some plants we found near a swamp on our walk this morning, which I boiled on a stove in the shack.

Suzi took charge like someone more than twice her fifteen years of age. She told Marcela and the twins that her family would spend the night in the abandoned deport.

Furthermore, she offered, if Casumi is shown the way to the swamp to collect more plants, and if I am allowed to use the stove in the shack, I will prepare dinner for everyone.

Marcy took the hand of Casumi, walked with him to the roadway, and pointed the way to the swamp. Mary found a friend in Suzi at once and showed her into the depot and bathroom, without any sign of fear. Marcela helped Mister Akiama move the baggage inside, wondering how it could all have been carried any distance by the three of them.

With her daughters, Marcela went back to the shack, built a fire with wood and coal, tried to clean up more of the floor and wiped a layer of dust from the two windows. The girls voiced happiness about no longer being alone.

When the Akiama family came to the shack, Suzi was carrying a large, flat pan filled with clean asparagus, other washed leafy plants, and walnuts that Casumi had found and shelled. He carried jars of seasonings, plates, small cups, and chopsticks. Mister Akiama had a small bottle of rice wine and a jar full of water.

Suzi placed the pan on the top of the stove and asked for eggs, which she cracked and stirred into the pan when Marcela handed her those that she had collected earlier. Spices were added. A good odor brought smiles to those who were very hungry. Casumi left and returned with a rug that he spread on the floor. Before she sat on the rug to be served with the others, Marcela lit the lamp. Not only was the meal enjoyed, there was some merriment watching Mary and Marcy try to eat with chopsticks, and, upon giving that up, eating with their fingers. Marcela had never tasted rice wine, but she tried it. Having cups of water with the meal pleased the twins.

Upon leaving, Suzi noticed where the twins slept. She had Casumi bring a large quilt to the shack. Mother and daughter went to bed on the rug, covered by the quilt, with coats as pillows.

Having the quilt and coal for the fire turned out to be fortunate. During the night, a strong, cold wind began to blow. The wind blew through spaces between boards and holes in the siding of the shack. The three beneath the quilt huddled together much of the night.

The wind diminished at sunrise. Marcela slipped out from beneath the quilt, stoked the fire, and went out the back door, without disturbing her daughters. She saw pages of newsprint clinging to a barbed-wire fence. She walked along the fence, hoping to find a page that indicated the paper had blown there from a community. Finally, she found such a page.

When Marcela returned to the shack, Suzi was there cooking eggs that she had gathered in the big pan in a different way, mixed with spices, and she had water boiling in the old kettle. Marcy and Mary were watching her. Marcela pointed out the page of a weekly newspaper, dated that week, that she had found on the fence.

There is a town upwind, to the east, from where this page came, Marcela announced. We must go in that direction after you have so kindly fed us again, Suzi. One of the saddest things for your family, your arrival in this godforsaken place, was a godsend for my family. I can assure you that I will do everything in my power to make things right for you.

After everyone had been to the bathroom, had eaten eggs, and all, except the twins, had drunk tea, a walk to the east was organized. The twins carried their suitcase, each with a hand on the handle. Marcela had helped position two rolls of bedding, wrapped and tied around belongings with straps, on Hirohito. As directed, the rolls were crossed on his back. One similar roll was slung on the backs of each Suzi and Casumi. The two of them and Marcela carried canvas bags.

The walk went slowly, and stops were made often to rest tired arms. After trudging a few miles, they came to an intersection. There was a narrow, paved road running north to south. Resting, with the twins sitting on the suitcase, they were contemplating which way they should go when a very old, small pickup truck came from the south. The truck stopped, and Marcela went to speak with the teenage driver.

What in the world have I found here? the boy asked.

Marcela replied, Two abandoned families looking for civilization.

There ain’t much of that around here. This area is called Poverty Flats.

Is there no town nearby? Marcel asked.

Was once. The wind and drought drove most away. There is a store, a post office, and Mabel Watkins’ boardinghouse, a few miles up the road. I was going there to send a mail-order for Pa.

But I found a page of a newspaper published this week, Marcela said.

That must have blown all the way from Lawson. That is on the highway, miles to the east. I could haul you all to what is left of West Point, if you want.

That would be appreciated, Marcela said as she motioned to the others.

The boy said, as he got out of the truck with difficulty, My name is Will Jones. I’ll not remember any of your names, but I’ll help with your things.

While the Akiama family was putting their baggage in the bed of the truck, Marcela told Suzi what she had learned about where they were going to be taken. She responded by saying that they had money to stay in a boarding house but wondered if they would be allowed there. We are, apparently, considered enemies. Marcela told her they would find out.

Will placed the suitcase in the truck bed. Marcela got in the cab with a daughter on each knee. The others got in the back with the baggage. Will had to place his right leg in the truck using both hands before he got back behind the steering wheel.

Going down the road, Marcela asked Will if there were farms anywhere around where she might find work. She understood that even if her new companions were able to stay at the boardinghouse, that would not help her and the girls. She did not have money to pay for room and board.

Will responded, The threshing crew is due at Brad Wilcox’s farm tomorrow. I will be part of the crew. Feeding that many will be a challenge for Missus Wilcox, who has not been feeling well. Maybe, Brad would hire you to help out. Not my business, but what are you people doing in this miserable place? I was born here, so I have no choice, just now.

We were abandoned, Marcela answered.

And Daddy got himself lost, Marcy added.

Those in the back. They were abandoned, too?

By the government, Marcela replied.

Are they our enemies in the war that just started?

Definitely not. They are American, like we are. Don’t ask me why they are being treated like they are. I don’t know.

Will parked the pickup in front of a large, two-story home with a weathered sign that must have once announced a boarding house. He ran, limping, down the street to the post office. Mabel Watkins came to greet them. She was an older woman who proved to have no prejudices and a very big heart. She soon had the Akiama family, with their things, in two adjoining rooms on the first floor of her boardinghouse. A young couple, apparently staying there, helped with the baggage.

Mabel then approached Marcela and said, Now, where would this beautiful young lady and two lovely girls like to stay.

Refusing to let anyone know that she was, essentially, penniless nor accept charity for the first time in her life, Marcela told Mabel something she only hoped would happen, Will Jones is going to take us to a farm where we can live and work.

Shouldn’t you stay, eat, and rest at least one night. You look totally worn out.

Will has to get back. He will be working on that farm, too, in the morning. It is so nice of you to help the family who joined us last night.

You come back to see us as soon as you can, Mabel said as she went back into the house.

Marcela and the twins were still sitting in the pickup when Will returned. Instead of answering his questions, Marcela asked him to take them to the Wilcox farm.

Brad Wilcox was walking between a big barn and a multi-story house when they got there. Will said they should wait while he talked to him. They waited, impatiently, for several minutes. When Will returned he said, I’m sorry for Mister Wilcox, but the situation is lucky for you. Missus Wilcox is down, in bed, and the threshing crew due tomorrow will expect to be fed a big lunch. Mister Wilcox said he would put you up, if you know how to cook.

I can cook and bake, Marcela responded.

Then, go on to the front door. Someone will meet you there. I will see you in the morning.

Thank you so much, Will, Marcela said. You have been an angel and we needed one.

Carrying their suitcase, with a daughter on each side, Marcela left the truck and walked up a wide walkway to the front door of the house and knocked. The door was opened, not by the man that Will had talked to, but by a tall, muscular, good-looking young man. He invited them in, with wonderment on his face. He had not expected a very attractive woman and two, pretty, little girls. Stammering somewhat, he said his name was Evan Wilcox and asked them to follow him to the kitchen. An open door to the kitchen was beyond two large rooms, separated by an archway into a dining room and a living room, both filled with furniture. There was a huge fireplace at each end of the rooms. In the kitchen, they were introduced to Evan’s father, Brad, and his brother Ned.

In a gruff voice, Brad asked. Can you cook, woman?

Marcela responded, looking straight into his eyes, I can cook and I’m good at baking.

We will see about that. Brad growled. Take them to the room in the attic, Evan. Stop by the door to your mother’s room, so she can see them, but don’t go in. You, woman, come right back down and start dinner for us.

The mother was in a large room off a hallway. Evan asked them to introduce themselves at the open door. My name is Marcela Wilson, and these girls are my daughters, Marcy and Mary. It is an honor to meet you, Missus Wilcox, Marcela said, loudly.

My name is Ann. Don’t let the rough men of my family frighten you. I will be up to help you with them in a few days, the woman said in a very weak voice, a voice that told Marcela that she would not be able to leave her bed very soon. On the second floor, Evan pointed out his bedroom and that of his brother. A ladder-like stairway led to the attic. In one corner of the attic, a room had been created. There was a double bed, a chest of drawers, two wooden chairs, but nothing else in the room. There was no window. Evan lit a kerosene lamp for them, before he left.

Seeing no way to heat the room, Marcela checked the bedding and found multiple quilts. There was a bedpan beneath the bed. She showed the girls how to use it, saying the bathroom may be an outhouse and explained such a facility. The girls were asked to lie down to take a nap, with a promise to return with food and water. Both being exhausted, they welcomed that opportunity.

The kitchen was empty, when Marcela returned there. She noticed on the way that the bedroom doors were all shut. A fire was burning in the cook stove, but it needed stoking. She did that by adding split wood stacked next to the stove. Her next efforts were to locate pots and pans and to determine what was available to cook. In a refrigerator, there were three large, thick steaks and some ground beef. She took out the steaks and placed them on a butcher’s block. On an adjoining porch, she found sacks of potatoes, carrots, corn, and onions. There was a pan filled with recently picked green beans. She now had what was necessary for a hearty meal for three men that she hoped to please, so she and the twins would have a place to stay while she found a way to restart their lives.

She peeled potatoes, snipped the beans, and diced an onion. The potatoes and beans were put on the stove in pots full of water obtained from a pump next to a sink. While those pots were boiling, she pounded the steaks with a small mallet, with embedded, tiny spikes, and rubbed them with salt, pepper and a seasoning that she found. She had seen fresh peaches on the porch and found the necessary ingredients to make a peach cobbler that she put in the oven.

Having no way to know how the men liked their steaks cooked, she was about to ring a bell that she had noticed when she saw Evan standing in the hallway leading to the stairs, watching her. He smiled and entered the kitchen. Joining her, he answered her question by saying, We all like streaks rare. You put the steaks on the stove, and I’ll call the others. Before he left, she asked what they would want to drink. He told her that his father would have had whiskey before dinner and would want water, but he and his brother liked buttermilk with their meals. He continued, We drink coffee after dinner. I’ll put on a pot when I come back and help you set the table.

Evan returned and set a small table that stood by a rear window with three place settings while Marcela mashed potatoes, with cream and butter from the refrigerator, turned the steaks once, and filled large bowls with mashed potatoes and beans. There was a part of a loaf of bread in a bread box which she sliced and put on a plate with butter. The cobbler was removed from the oven and covered by a cloth. Evan put a pot of coffee on the stove.

Brad and Ned arrived. Brad was staggering, but he made it to a chair. Ned sat down while Evan helped Marcela move the food to the table, including sizzling steaks on a large platter with browned, diced onions. He filled the glasses.

Marcela was nearly famished and the smell of good food that she had not tasted for days was overwhelming as she cooked. She was hoping some beans and potatoes would be left-over for her and the twins, and she cooked the ground beef.

Little was said at the dinner table. Marcela retrieved the dinner plates and bowls, then offered peach cobbler on smaller plates, and poured coffee.

The fact that they had not eaten all the potatoes and beans was more important to her than Brad making the comment that it was a good meal. Ned went further by saying the steak was as good as any he had ever eaten. Evan gave her a thumbs-up sign as the three men went to the living room where they turned on a radio to hear the war news.

No one had said anything to Marcela about dinner for Missus Wilcox. She assumed the ground meat was meant to be cooked for her, so she warmed a platter for a helping of meat and added mashed potatoes and beans from pots still on the edge of the stove surface. Finding a tray, she placed the platter on it with a fork and spoon. She took it to Ann’s bedroom door and knocked. A weak voice asked her in. Seeing the platter of food, the woman said, Oh my dear. I could not eat all that. Could you bring me some warm milk-toast?

Marcela went back to the kitchen, warmed milk that was in a pitcher in the refrigerator, and browned the bread left by the others in the oven. She poured the warm milk on the bread and sliced another peach. With that meal on the tray, she returned to the bedroom