September Wind - September Wind Part 3
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September Wind Part 3

Friday morning, Emily turned in both sheets of problems. On Monday morning, Miss Tucker handed them back to her. The number *100'was written across the top of each page.

Emily didn't know what to think. "What's that mean?"

"That means you got them all correct. I'm impressed. And, I've decided to put you in the third grade."

Emily looked back over to where Haity sat in the third grade section. "So then, I can move now?"

Miss Tucker smiled, nodding her head. "Sure. Go on back."

As the girls' friendship grew, Emily never took a moment of her time with Haity for granted. They watched out for each other, and it was clear that their loyalty to one another had gained them respect.

Swings were turned over, lines were opened, and no one enjoyed it more than Haity. Then one day, as they walked by a group of boys playing basketball, the ball rolled in front of the girls. Emily picked it up and shot one through the hoop. She had used Steven and Timothy's basketball enough to know she could do another. However, when someone tossed it to her for another throw, she set it down and walked off.

Haity caught up with her. "Go back and show them. You've got to go back."

Emily smiled and kept walking.

There were a few cackles once in a while, but it didn't seem to bother Haity any longer. She would just grin and take Emily's hand. They were like two peas in a pod by now, and it seemed that nearly everyone accepted that as something good.

"You want to spend the weekend with me?" Haity asked one day. "Maybe we'll hike out over the ridge and shoot some coyotes." She said this loud enough so that Connie and one of her new tagalongs would hear.

Emily was so excited about going to Haity's, she blurted it out the minute she saw Grandfather. "Haity wants me to go home with her for the weekend. I think we're gonna shoot some coyotes."

"What the hell has gotten into you?" Grandfather growled as if they were planning to burn the house down. "You don't shoot coyotes for fun. You trap them for fur. Besides, do you see me running off weekends? I haven't had a vacation in over twenty years."

"Well, can I go?"

"No!"

Emily stomped upstairs and lay across the bed. This was her first invite to anyone's house, and she was frustrated to tears. Maybe if she hadn't been so excited and mentioned the coyotes. Next time she would know better. Next time she would wait until he was sitting at his favorite meal, that, or had a few drinks under his belt.

Some weeks later, on a Saturday afternoon, Haity stopped by with her father. He sat with the men in the front yard where they had put out chairs and were gabbing and drinking. Emily called Haity up from her bedroom window.

They stood together, watching the men carry on.

"Now's the time to ask Grandfather."

"Okay. What're we asking?"

"For me to spend the night, of course."

Grandfather had already put down some whiskey and he was in that state that came before having a few too many. During this in-between period, as Emily thought of it, sometimes he would become happy, even laugh, same with the other men. By their dress that afternoon, razored faces, and combed back hair, something big was happening wherever they were going. Grandfather was in such good spirits he said yesbefore the girls knew what happened.

"Long as you make it home for your chores."

"It's Timothy's turn to milk the cows, anyway," Steven offered. He'd had more than a few drinks himself. "Just be home to gather the eggs and put on breakfast."

Since harvest was nearly over, things had slowed, and this meant she would have twelve straight hours to spend with Haity.

As for tonight, whatever their plans were, it was obvious the men were looking forward to their night out. She wondered if a woman or two had something to do with the way they were dressed, and how happy they were acting.

Timothy never had a serious girlfriend, and as far as Emily knew, more than likely none at all since she couldn't imagine someone putting up with his stubbornness.

Now and then, a woman might wander from Claude's cabin that sat out past the barn. He never invited any of them to the house. There had been one young woman though, that he brought into the front yard one day. This was only because her father had been waiting to see Claude. Those two had important business to discuss, was all Emily could surmise. The woman had beautiful red hair, and freckles, a pretty woman, especially for Claude. He acted different around her. Then something happened and he stopped seeing her. Whatever that was, Emily gathered from snippets of gossip, it had something to do with a battle between Claude and the woman's father.

Steven, on the other hand, had shown up with a few different women. The last one was a blonde divorcee named Carol, tall and slender with tight jeans and shiny black cowboy boots. It was quite a shock for Emily the night she caught them lying in front of the fireplace entangled in a passionate embrace, kissing up a storm.

She'd gone downstairs late for some water. There in the kitchen doorway she witnessed the most tender moment she'd ever seen. Finally, when she was able to pull her eyes away, she tiptoed back up the stairs to bed, still thirsty, but now filled with a longing she had no control over. Each time she thought of that kiss, she knew when it happened to her that it was going to be the best moment of her life. She would savor that dream until then.

She was sorry when Carol stopped coming by because that woman seemed to have a way with all four of the men. She wouldn't let Grandfather get away without a laugh, though Emily could tell she almost pushed it too far a couple of times. Whatever happened to their relationship put Steven into the pits for a time. Ever since, he'd never brought another woman into the house. Although, there was a time or two when Emily saw one sitting in the pickup while he ran into the house for one reason or another.

Wherever the men were heading tonight, she hoped it was all about a woman, one for each of them. Things were much happier that way.

CHAPTER THREE.

It was nearly three years ago when Haity came into Emily's life. Emily believed she was a gift, as her grandmother had been, and that their friendship was not to be taken lightly. Nothing pleased her more than when she caught Grandfather at just the right time and he allowed her to spend the night with her friend.

Haity lived with her father and Aunt Garcia. She never spoke of her mother. Her father was a quiet kind man, a farmer who did his job without complaint.

The girls were free to run about the property and do most anything they pleased. They swam, took the horses out, and slept in the backyard during the summer months. They made cookies and stayed up listening to music and talking until all hours. Aunt Gracie made breakfast for them when they got up. And then Haity and her father would take Emily home.

She always felt sad when his pickup rolled out of her yard, Haity waving with both arms, hollering that she would see her at school. Many a time she wanted to call her back. Although she was never brave enough to ask Grandfather if Haity could stay the night. And then one day she made a decision she would live to regret.

Haity and her father stopped by that Saturday afternoon while the men were out. Without thinking, she asked her to spend the night.

The girls made Kool-Aid and hotdogs rolled up in fresh homemade bread. For dessert, they made cookies and homemade ice cream. Later, they made popcorn, played games, and dress-up. When the men pulled in about two in the morning, the girls left everything in disarray and ran upstairs. Emily thought of the mess as they kicked off their shoes and crawled under the covers. But she knew what her grandfather's condition would be and counted on him heading straight for his bedroom. She'd wake up early and take care of things.

The next morning, they awoke to the sound of Timothy banging on her bedroom door. "Get up, Emily! Grandfather's as mad as a hornet."

"I'm coming!" She hopped out of bed, Haity right behind her. "No, stay here, I'm just going down to do my chores. When I'm finished we'll sneak up the road a ways and wait for your father."

"But I'm hungry."

"Can't you wait? Grandfather doesn't know you're here." Emily looked at the door and sighed. "After that mess we left, I suspect I'm already in trouble."

Haity pulled on her shoes and went to look out the window. She noticed the acorns sitting on the windowsill and picked them up. "Mind if I eat these?"

"Don't be silly. I'm gonna plant those. You know that."

"How about some toast, then?"

"You don't know my grandfather."

Haity turned to Emily with a pout, rubbing her stomach.

"Oh, all right, but be quiet."

Downstairs, Emily was relieved the men were all out doing their morning chores. The dishes were under the sink in less than two minutes, the food put away, and the games and everything else crammed into a storage trunk. Then she opened the firebox on the wood stove, filled it with small pieces of dried oak, and then opened the damper for some quick heat. She made coffee, glancing out the window every once in a while, hoping for one of those rare occasions when Claude took enough initiative to feed the animals and bring in eggs for breakfast. She knew Timothy was out milking, but knowing it was her place to feed the animals, she couldn't count on him either.

Grandfather walked in as she was placing two slices of bread into the oven. "What in tarnation were you doing last night?"

"Just playing."

His eyes darted about the room. Emily was tickled he still hadn't guessed how she stored the dirty dishes under the sink when she was in a hurry.

He shuffled to the cupboards. "There's cows to milk, and no eggs in the house," he said, scanning the length of the counter once more. "Some of us are hungry, you know."

She thought of telling him Timothy was milking, but he wouldn't care. Haity would just have to wait.

Grandfather switched on the radio and poured a cup of coffee. Emily pulled the half-done pieces of toast from the oven, set it on a back burner, and then slipped out the door.

She was still feeding the animals when she heard the dogs bark and then someone drive into the yard. She dropped everything and rushed outside as Haity's father pulled up to the house.

"Just here to pick up my girl?" he said with his head out the window.

"Haity? She's not here!" Grandfather bellowed, coming from under the arbor.

"Well, I sure as hell hope she is because this is where I left her yesterday afternoon."

About then Haity came down the front steps, eating a cookie. "Thanks, Mr. Rezell," she said as she passed him. She waved at Emily. "'Bye. Best time I ever had."

Emily would never forget that confident smile as Haity hopped into the pickup and drove off with her father.

She noticed the wild look in Grandfather's eyes and made a quick turn back to the barn.

"Wait right there, young lady," he said coming up behind her.

She stopped and turned to face him.

He took one last step and then swung, catching her alongside the jaw with the back of his hand. "Now get back to the barn and don't ever ask to spend the night again."

The next month and a half were grueling for her, and she yearned for school to begin. She was angry with herself for inviting Haity to spend the night without asking her grandfather first. Now things were ruined for good.

CHAPTER FOUR.

At last, summer vacation was over and school was back in session. Emily waited for Haity on the front steps. When the bell rang, and still no Haity, she went in without her. The teacher was normally busy preparing for the day, but that morning she was standing in front of the classroom, quietly waiting for everyone to settle in.

"I have some sad news to report. You probably notice that Haity isn't here. Well... that's because this last weekend she drowned."

Everyone's eyes were on Emily. Her knees and hands were shaking, and her jaw tightened until she thought it would break. She wanted to lash out at them, throw books, knock over desks and scream into the faces that had taunted her friend. She looked to where Haity would have been sitting. Tears flowed down her cheeks onto her desk.

Finally, Miss Tucker brought Emily some tissue, took her hand and led her out of the classroom.

"I'm sorry, Emily. I thought you would've already known. Would you like to go home?"

Emily nodded, started to leave, but then turned back. "You see... it's all my fault."

"Oh, Emily, how could you say that? That's just not so."

"But it is. If I hadn't asked her to spend the night without Grandfather's permission, I-I might've been with her." She covered her face with the tissue and wept.

Miss Tucker placed a hand on her shoulder. "Look at me," she said sternly.

Emily looked up.

"This is not your fault. You hear me? It's not your fault." She pulled a handkerchief from a pocket and offered it to her. "I want you to go on home now and rest for a few days."

Emily left then, but didn't go home. Instead, she walked to Haity's, picking flowers on the way. Once she got there, she didn't have enough nerve to go up and knock on the door. Haity's house was the opposite direction of hers. And she was so exhausted from the walk and the crying that when she sat up against a tree for a rest, she fell asleep.

When she opened her eyes, Haity's father was standing above her.

"Emily, how did you get here?"

"I walked," she said, pulling herself to her feet. She brushed dead leaves and twigs off her clothes, and then reached for the flowers.

"Here," she said, handing them over. "I picked them for Haity... for her grave."

"Thank you, Emily. I know she would... she..." His shoulders shook, and his lips quivered. "She would appreciate this." He blinked, looking around the yard, up the road, and then back to Emily. "You were the only real friend she ever had."

Fresh tears streamed down Emily's cheeks. "I know... me too."

They stood side by side, he shaking his head, brushing away tears, she sniffling, twisting her hands. Finally, she pushed them into her pockets, wishing she would've brought some acorns to hold onto.

Haity's father looked up. "I believe my girl's in Heaven. I do. I really do."

Emily raised her eyes, too. "I bet so."

They stood for a few moments, searching the sky. Then she bent to pick up her gunnysack. "I'd better go."

"Come on, Emily. I'll drive you home."

They rode in silence, Emily sitting where Haity should've been, wishing she could comfort him.

When she walked into the house, the men became silent. They didn't say a word when she walked straight upstairs. She stayed in bed for days, and only got up for a short time at night when no one was around. Steven brought her cooked oats or soup each day, but she ate little.

On Friday morning, she got up and went downstairs, did her chores like usual, made breakfast, cleaned the kitchen, and then went back to bed.