Travis' Ladder

He was even afraid of the Hartleys - the retired teachers with whom he was to live. He had met them before, for they had visited the Ransoms' ranch, come out to see the sheep shearing -as if that were a big deal! Mr. Hartley was a big man and had once taught high school math; Mrs. Hartley was a tiny, bright-eyed lady who had been a music teacher. Travis was very much afraid of that. What if she asked him about Mozart, or expected him to take piano lessons? Yes, he was afraid of everything in this town they were approaching - even little old ladies! Well Mrs. Hartley had not gotten into the music yet, but had cooked this big piece of meat he could not swallow. Mr. Hartley cleared his throat and pushed his plate away, although his food was only half way gone. "You know, Lovey, I'm just not much for chicken fried steak on a hot night like this. What I need is some ice cream! Now if you will get us that little cooler we used to put our sandwiches in, Travis and I could go down to the 7-Eleven and get us some. They had some of that good Blue Bell peaches and cream last week." Mrs. Hartley jumped up from the table and ran to the pantry, returning with a little blue and white ice chest. "I do think the Dutch have it right," her little voice tinkled. 'They always eat their dessert first, I've heard. Now you hurry back before it all melts - even in this ice chest." The stars were out when they set off down the sidewalk - although they did not look as bright, and seemed further away than they did in the star lit sky at the ranch. The street lights here had taken away some of their grandeur. "You know, Travis, I was just thinking about the time I went off to school. I was older than you - about sixteen. I went to live in a boys' dormitory and I was so scared, and so ashamed of being scared that I put my head under the sheet and cried when the lights were turned out." Travis looked up at the big man. "I can't imagine your being scared, or crying either." "Well, I wasn't so big back then - and there was another thing I was ashamed of: I did not own a suitcase and I had to carry all my belongings in a paper sack - my underwear, my toothbrush, my two shirts and two pairs of pants. I never have decided if I was more ashamed of my tears, or of that paper sack." "Well, I guess you made it up that first rung, all right." "What's that?" "My grandpa said we are all climbing a ladder - one rung at a time - and that the first rung is the hardest." "Well now, I do think he's right. That first rung could be the hardest - or maybe the last rung will be!"