The Write Place

Chapter 9
Table of Contents

A little girl in a white dress and bonnet was playing under the fruited tree.  A gentle breeze provided a pleasant cooling wind giving the day a pleasant warmth.  The sun was up high in the sky as the church was emptying out.  The hillside leading up to the church building and the parsonage was a lush green and filled with people.  The little girl held a doll in each hand, wisps of her blond hair were visible, poking out of the edges of her bonnet.

Abigail hurried down the hill, kneeling to the little girl’s level to speak to her daughter.

“Abbi don’t run away so quickly.  We didn’t know where you’d gone.”

“Where else would I go?” asked little Abbi with her head cocked up to her mother with a genuine curiosity. Her childish innocence reverberated in her little voice.

“When would you go is an important question, too,” said her smiling mother.  Down the hill rolled a brown-haired boy, several years older than little Abbi.  Alongside him was a brown-haired girl and they rolled down the gentle slope of the hill down from the church together.  People parted and watched, some with laughter and all with amusement.  The little boy, in his Sunday best as was often the case, got up after his roll and ran to the tree at Abigail’s right. Abigail turned to face the young newcomer.

“Isaiah stay over here, don’t climb that tree,” she said to the boy.

“Okay,” he replied, promptly starting to climb the apple tree next to the bench.  He hadn’t gotten past the first branch when his mother spoke with maternal authority.

“Isaiah!” she said her hands on her hips with the force a mother in any time or place would wield, and the likes of which any child would likewise know.

“What, this tree?  You said that tree!” he replied pointing to a random tree near the one he had climbed. It was random, and both knew it.

“You know what I meant,” said Abigail slightly raising her voice.  “You fell not two days ago.  I want you to take some time without taking such a risk,” she added in a curt explanation.  Looking back to the church from the tree she could see a tall man in a Geneva gown and clerical tabs starting down the hill.  “Here comes your father.  Why don’t you go play with the Cooper boys over there.  Looks like they’ve got a game going.”  She motioned to a group of boys at the foot of the hill, kicking a ball back and forth across the field.

“Wonderful young lad isn’t he,” David said with a chuckle as Isaiah ran down the hill.  David picked an apple from the tree and took a bite.  

David stood next to his wife.  Abigail gave a knowing laugh while she picked up little Abbi.

“He takes after his father,” she said with a wry smile forming on her face.

“That scoundrel,” David said, putting one hand on his wife’s back.  “Hello Abbi.  Did Daddy do well today?” David asked, looking at his little girl.

“I don’t know.  I fell asleep,” said Abbi, still holding her dolls in hand.  Completely unaware of the humor and lack of decorum in her answer.

“It’s true she really did, out like a candle snuffed in the night,” said Abigail turning to face herself and Abbi towards David with a gentle rocking motion.

“I assume my voice was just that soothing in delivering the peace of God to those who heard it.  Isaiah managed to sit still enough.  You know, I saw him playing with Elizabeth again.  Looked like they rolled down the hill.  Little adventurer that he is.  Rebeccah will be pleased.  She’s been trying to get them together since they were in their respective wombs,” David said, looking at Rebeccah in her blue dress where she stood with her slightly taller husband in his brown suit and tri-corner hat.  Elizabeth had run back to them, a bit dirty from her roll. Her mother wet her thumb to remove dirt from her child’s face and then began to pick the bits of grass and leaves from her daughter’s hair.  Suzanne and her tall, thin husband strolled over to speak to Rebeccah, as usual holding her young blond baby and followed by her young boy. 

“You don’t have a doll. Would you like to play with one?” Abbi asked holding one out to her father. David smiled, accompanied with a wave of his hand.

“Thank you but no need to my dear,” her father said, kissing her on the head.  

“Oh good,” Abbi withdrew her hand with the doll and held it close to her chest.  Her actions received a gentle laugh from her parents as a cooling wind blew across them.

“Yes, Isaiah has taken to climbing too, hasn’t he?  He really enjoys running and talking to people, often at the same time.  He does especially get along with Elizabeth.  Caught him boosting her up into the tree this past Friday.  Before he fell. . .  Partners in crime, so it would appear,” continued Abigail.  “Seven years old Monday, seven years old,” Abigail said, holding out a free hand.  David placed the apple in her hands.

“That long ago….  Best and worst year.  I came home in the Spring after a horrid winter,” David said with the weight of the memory upon his words.

“I received you back and then a son arrived.  It was truly a beautiful spring,” said Abigail, taking a bite.  Her face lit up in a large smile of remembrance.  “And another one soon,” she said, looking at her growing abdomen.

“It sure was.  God is good.  Always,” said David embracing his wife and daughter.  “Such joys they are.” They held each other, hearts smiling as behind them Suzanne and Rebeccah walked with their husbands and children.  David turned his head to his right towards the tree and sighed.  

“Isaiah, stop climbing that tree.”