Scattered Pages

1. The Stage

Clutching the letter, Gemma stood at the crossroads in the bright noonday sun. With her free hand shading her eyes, she peered down the road looking for the cloud of dust that signaled the arrival of the stage. Over the past weeks Gemma had spent a good deal of time mentally composing this particular letter and last night had labored over its completion long after her grandparents were asleep. Now, having made up her mind to unburden herself to Lionel, she was anxious that the letter get to him before he left for Maine.

She’d been held up at the library where Miss Jessup had just received a new shipment of books. There were several titles the librarian knew would interest Gemma and she was eager to share them with her young friend. Ordinarily, Miss Jessup’s description of the latest addition to the library’s stacks would have been a high point of Gemma’s day, but today she had been far too distracted to be other than irritated by the delay.

Now it looked as though she had missed the stage. If she mailed the letter tomorrow, Lionel would be on the way to Maine before it reached Chester. She thought of mailing it to Lionel’s address in Maine, but this was a letter meant to be read and considered in private, not in the company of a table full of Mrs. Anderson’s boarders. Heaving a frustrated sigh, she stuffed the letter in her pocket where it weighed more heavily than the pile of books tucked into the crook of her arm. Taking one last look down the empty road she turned toward home.

“Hey there, Gemma, what you waiting for?” called a voice. “The stage’s passed by already. I guess old Lionel won’t get his love letter today.”

Gemma turned to look behind her and saw Lewis Farnum leaning on a broom in front of his father’s general store. A white apron was tied around his lanky frame and his thatch of red hair gleamed under the June sun. “You just mind your own business, Lewis,” she said. “What makes you think I was waiting for the stage anyway? Can’t a body cross the road around here without hearing your two cents on the subject?”

“Ah, come on, Gemma,” said Lewis leaning his broom against the building and walking toward her with a broad grin. “Don’t be like that. I’m just trying to be friendly.”

“You call it friendly to be broadcasting my private affairs to the whole town? Why, you should be ashamed of yourself, Lewis Farnum. What would my grandmother think if she heard what you just said?” Gemma tossed her thick, dark braid over her shoulder and scowled.

Lewis glanced up and down the street and said, “For gosh sakes, Gemma, there’s nobody around to hear what I said. This old town’s dead as a doornail, you know that.”

“That’s neither here nor there,” she said. “You’ve no cause to embarrass me right here on the main street of town. I feel bad enough that I missed the stage.”

“I’m sorry, Gemma,” Lewis said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “I didn’t mean to give you a hard time. You know I wouldn’t hurt your feelings on purpose. I was just trying to have a little fun.”

“Well, I accept your apology, Lewis,” Gemma said. “I guess Grammy’s right; I’m kind of sensitive lately. Anyway, hadn’t you better get back to your sweeping?”

“I guess I better.” Lewis glanced up the street at the store. “If my dad finds me out here talking to you, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“You get on back to work then, Lewis. I’ve got to get home myself before Gram starts worrying about me.” As she gave Lewis a parting wave she saw his father step out of the store and look down the road in their direction. Gemma nodded a greeting to Mr. Farnum before turning toward home.

As she walked away she heard him say, “I thought you was sweeping, least ways, that’s what you’re supposed to be doing. And there’s shelves to stock, you know. The canned goods just came in and you haven’t got to sortin’ them nails yet, neither.”

Gemma didn’t catch Lewis’s response, but she heard his father say, “See that you do. And next time, keep your mind on your business instead of stopping to visit with every pretty gal that walks by.”

As her boots kicked up dust in the dry road Gemma thought of her exchange with Lewis Farnum; that boy never missed an opportunity to make a nuisance of himself. Ever since they’d met at the village school shortly after her arrival in Brookfield, Lewis had proved to be a tease and a bother. She felt a little sorry for him though and couldn’t stay mad at him for long. Although the elder Mr. Farnum was unfailingly polite to her, Gemma thought he was a bit of a tyrant, free with his criticism of Lewis and stingy with his praise.

As she passed onto the wooded path, her favorite part of the walk, she heard the familiar song of a chickadee and soon spotted him on a nearby branch. Mimicking the bird’s song, she watched him turn his black capped head from side to side as though trying to decipher her unintelligible dialect. Laughing Gemma said, “You are a sweet thing. I’m so glad you’ve come to keep me company.” As if he understood, the little bird flitted along from tree to tree as she made her way down the path.

Before emerging into the blaze of the mid day sun, Gemma tied on the bonnet that had been hanging down her back by its strings. It wouldn’t do to arrive home bareheaded; Grammy objected to Gemma’s olive complexion and was forever warning her against the sun’s darkening rays.