The Waltons 2 - Trouble on the Mountain (10 page)

“Well, let’s not mention that to Grandma.”

“I heard.”

The voice came from the shadows near the door. Grandma was there, a look of grim resignation on her face.

“Well, that don’t mean anything, Ma,” John said. “There’s lots of other places he could have gone. John-Boy, I reckon you and me better get started looking.”

“I’m going along.”

“That’s not going to help any, Grandma,” Olivia said. “Why don’t you stay and eat your supper?”

“I’m going, and that’s all there is to it.”

John-Boy knew his father was at a complete loss as to where to search. With Grandma along, he didn’t want to show it. “Can’t be over at Anker Barnes,” he said, “ ’cause I just came from there. And not much point in trying Ike’s again. Let’s start with the Zimmermans’.”

Grandma was silent through the ride out to the Zimmermans’. She and John waited in the truck while John-Boy talked to Mrs. Zimmerman and then reported back that they hadn’t seen Grandpa.

As quickly as he got back in the truck Grandma said tightly: “Might just as well go directly over to those Baldwin women’s place.”

“Now, Mama,” John said, “there’s no call for us jumping to conclusions.”

“I ain’t jumping to no conclusions. I’m just using plain common sense.”

John sat for a minute, wishing he could drop Grandma home before they went to the Baldwins’. Until she decided to come along, he had planned to make that his first stop. “Okay,” he finally said.

Driving to the Baldwins’ it was clear that Grandma expected the worst and was prepared to deal with it with all the ferociousness she could command. She sat stiff as a board, her jaw tight and her eyes fixed on the road as if they were going into a battle against fire-breathing dragons.

John-Boy held his breath as they climbed up the last hill and then the truck’s headlights fell on the Baldwin house. Then he felt his tensed muscles relax. He could hear the relief in his father’s voice as he pulled to a stop in front of the dark house.

“There you are, Mama. Looks like they’ve already gone to bed.”

“All the lights out don’t mean nothing. Hmph! Wouldn’t surprise me if the electric company shut their power off.”

Her contemptuous tone prompted John-Boy to smile. In Grandma’s view, if the Baldwins’ electricity was turned off, it was a wrathful act of God.

“Look-a there!” she suddenly said. “Garage is empty.”

“Yes, it is,” John said. “Likely they’re off visiting kinfolk somewhere. Might be staying over.”

“Garage door ain’t closed. Would have closed the garage if they wasn’t coming home.”

John took a long breath. “Well, Mama, there ain’t no point in waiting around here. If they went somewhere, we don’t know Pa went with them.”

He waited a minute, but Grandma had no response. He put the truck in gear. Then, as a pair of headlights flashed across the truck, John and John-Boy caught their breath.

It was them—at least it was the Baldwin sisters’ car. It made a broad turn, swung to the right, then to the left, and at the last second straightened out and disappeared into the garage.

John-Boy wasn’t sure if he wanted Grandpa to be in the car or not. He would be greatly relieved to see him alive and well. But if that were the case, there was going to be trouble.

They all watched in silence as the car lights went out, and shadowy figures were suddenly apparent in the garage. Then, with one of them looming much larger than the other two, the dark figures were coming toward the truck. The one in front was Grandpa, and he was grinning.

“Well, well, what’re you two doing here?” He had reached the car door, and his grin quickly faded. “Oh, hello, Esther. You came along too, huh?”

John-Boy opened the door and got out.

“It’s pretty late,” John said. “You’ve had us worried, Pa.”

He had no chance to respond. The Baldwin sisters were suddenly there, all smiles.

“Why it’s John and John-Boy, and
Mrs.
Walton! How nice to see you all.”

“Mrs. Walton, it’s just been ever so long since you’ve come a-calling on us. Isn’t this the nicest surprise!”

“I’m not a-calling.”

John-Boy winced at the angry tone. He didn’t think he had ever seen his grandmother quite so mad. But the Baldwin sisters didn’t seem to notice.

“Do come inside, won’t you-all? Mamie and I can fix some refreshment in just a jiffy.”

“We’ve had ever so much fun in Charlottesville today. We just can’t wait to tell you all about it.”

“Old man, you get inside this truck!”

“Now, Esther . . .”

“I don’t want to hear any ‘Now, Esthering.’ You just get on in here!”

“A man’s got a right to explain, Esther!”

“A man that’s done what you’ve done ain’t got no rights to do nothing!”

The Baldwin sisters were gaping at them.

“Mrs. Walton, Zebulon’s just been ever so nice to us today. He carried all our packages for us, and he took us . . .”

“So, it’s
Zebulon
now, is it? Well, Mr. Zebulon Walton, you can just climb up and ride in the back of the truck. You certainly ain’t riding here!”

“Esther . . . !”

“Pa, I think we’d better be getting on home.”

Even in the darkness John-Boy could see how red Grandpa’s face had gotten, and how hard he was breathing. “Esther,” he said, “you’re going to be sorry about this. You don’t know what I did in Charlottesville, and when you find out . . .”

“The only thing I know is you took our last few cents to buy candles! And you didn’t have to go all the way to Charlottesville for
that!”

Grandpa gaped at her. “Candles! Oh, my. Slipped right out of my mind.”

“Slipped your mind, did it? Gallavanting around with two single ladies, it don’t surprise me none.”

“But Esther . . .”

Grandma lifted her chin and turned away. “John, drive me home! If that old man wants to come or don’t, don’t make no difference to me.”

Grandpa sighed, giving it up. He pushed the door shut with a bang and climbed into the back. “John-Boy, you want to ride back here with me?”

The Baldwin sisters watched John-Boy climb into the back, then smiled happily. “Thank you again, Mr. Walton. It was a most delightful trip.”

“A divine treat!” Miss Emily added.

“My pleasure, ladies,” Grandpa said with an exaggerated bow.

“Oh, and John-Boy, you’ll be sure to take good care of Papa’s . . .”

John-Boy almost didn’t catch it in time. With all the worrying about Grandpa, and then Grandma’s anger, he had completely forgotten about the typewriter. “I’ll take care of everything, Miss Emily,” he blurted out before she said the critical word. “Don’t you worry.”

“And you’ll be sure to bring it . . .”

John-Boy nodded vigorously. “Goodnight, Miss Emily, Miss Mamie,” he said loudly. By then the truck motor was drowning out everything.

John-Boy didn’t know what to say to Grandpa on the way home. The only thing Grandpa said was, “Women can be contrary, John-Boy,” and then lapsed back into angry silence.

As quickly as they stopped at the house, Grandma was out of the truck and marching toward the back door. When the others got to the kitchen, she was gone.

“Grandma took a plate of supper up to her room,” Olivia said. She eyed Grandpa coolly. “You going to eat here, or you want to take your plate up too?”

“I’ll be eating here,” he said and headed for the stairs.

While he was gone, John and John-Boy sat down for their suppers, and John told Olivia what had happened.

“What in the world did he go to Charlottesville for?” Olivia asked.

“Don’t know,” John said, and then Grandpa was coming down the stairs again. He looked like he was still bristling when he sat down.

“I said goodnight to all the children. Let them know I was safe and sound.”

“Safe,
maybe,” Olivia said, and put his plate in front of him.

Grandpa looked sharply at her. “You, too, huh?”

“Well, couldn’t you at least have told us you were driving the Baldwin sisters to town?”

Grandpa shook his head. “What am I? Some little shirttail kid that’s gotta tell his mama every time he wants to turn around?”

“If you could have seen Grandma . . . worrying all day.”

“That’s just the trouble with Esther. She worries too much. Where’s she now? In our room, pouting?”

Olivia stared at him for a minute, then put the coffee pot on the table and headed out. “I’ll go see if she’s all right.”

“Bet she’s sitting there in the dark,” Grandpa muttered. “Won’t even have a candle lit.”

“John-Boy,” John said, “you’d better be getting on up to bed yourself.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

When he was gone, John smiled. “Well, it’s been a big day, Pa. But at least we’ll have these lights on again tomorrow, thank the Lord.”

Grandpa looked surprised. “Oh?”

“Yep. Got eleven dollars and sixty cents today. Me and Anker took one of his hogs over and sold it to Percy Crocker. And Anker got a job building Percy a smokehouse and a hog pen.”

“Huh!” Grandpa said.

“Anyhow, I can go over to Charlottesville tomorrow and settle up the electric bill.”

Grandpa nodded but then looked angry again. “Don’t have to,” he muttered. “That’s why I went over there today.”

John gaped at him. “What?!”

“I fixed the Baldwins’ drainpipes. That gave me enough to pay the bill. They said a man’ll be out first thing in the morning to turn the power back on.”

John sat back and looked at him with disbelief. “Well now, why didn’t you just tell Mama that?”

“Because she let that jealous mind of hers run wild. So I just said to myself, let her stew.”

“I still think you could have said something to her.”

“You was there. You saw it; she didn’t give me a chance. And don’t you go telling her either. Let her find out in the morning. Then maybe she’ll have a regret or two for the way she’s been acting.”

Grandpa looked up as Olivia appeared, carrying a blanket and pillow. “What you got there, daughter?”

“I’m afraid these are your bedclothes for the night, Grandpa.”

“What? Is she serious?”

“She sounded plenty serious to me.”

“Well, I’ll be damned!” He rose abruptly. “We’ll just see about that!”

This whole thing was stupid and getting out of hand, Zeb decided as he went up the stairs. If she had just given him ten seconds to explain things, she would probably be all love and kisses by this time. Women just didn’t seem to have any understanding of men. They couldn’t get it through their heads that a man just can’t sit by and let things go when things happened like getting your electricity shut off. She might have guessed that he was going to do something about it. Any five-year-old child could have taken that twenty-two cents down to buy candles. He swung the door open with an angry flourish.

She was there, sitting in her rocker, squeaking it back and forth like she was trying to wear the floor out.

“Now, see here, woman, there’s a limit to my patience! What’s this about my sleeping downstairs on the couch?”

“Hah!” she said. “Your patience! Did
you
spend all day worrying yourself sick? No! You don’t care about me. All you care about is having yourself a fling.”

Zebulon crossed the room and stood in front of her. “Esther, you have got a dark and a suspicious mind.”

Something new seemed to come into her head. She sniffed the air and looked him up and down. “And you
smell!
You smell to high heaven of perfume!”

He had forgotten about that. He looked at his hand and glared back at her. “There’s an explanation for that, too, Esther!”

“Oh, yes. Mr. Zebulon Walton could explain away the Depression if someone gave him a chance. I’ve had all I care to take for one day. Now leave me alone.”

“I’m not sleeping on any couch.”

“All right,” she said and came out of the rocker. “Then take the bed.
I’ll
sleep on the couch!”

“Esther!”

She stopped at the door, her chin high.

“I won’t stand for this, Esther.”

“There’s nothing you can do about it.”

With that she snorted and stomped off.

Grandma arrived in the kitchen with a rustle of skirts and blood still in her eye. She marched directly to the sink where Olivia was doing the dishes. “Here,” she said and grabbed the dishcloth, “I’ll wash them. You just go sit down. All the trouble that man gave us today!”

Olivia started to protest but gave it up. It seemed obvious that Grandma had no desire to be mollified. The only thing now was to let the battle run its course.

“Mama,” John asked, “did you give him a chance to explain?”

The dishes clattered and banged. “Nothing to explain. He’s just an old fool, and he’s proved it.”

Olivia gave John a hopeless look. He rose and moved to the sink. “Mama, I happen to know there was a good reason why he went into Charlottesville. And if you were to ask him, I think he’d tell you why.”

She shook her head. “You men. Always sticking together.”

“Will you please just listen to me a minute?”

“I’ve done all the talking and listening I care to do for today. If he wants to share my bed at night, he can just share my troth during the day.”

John looked at Olivia, then sharply toward the living room. Grandpa was standing there with a suitcase in his hand.

“I’ll be saying good-bye,” he said.

“Grandpa!” Olivia exclaimed.

“Where do you think you’re going this time of night?” John asked.

Grandma looked over her shoulder, then quickly turned her attention back to the clattering dishes.

“Makes no never-mind,” Grandpa said. “If that woman don’t want me in her bed, she don’t want me in her house.”

“Now, Pa, why don’t you just cool down? At least wait till tomorrow.”

“That’s right,” Olivia added. “At least sleep on it.”

Grandpa glared at all of them. “It’s time this family learned that Zeb Walton can get along just fine on his own! Just fine!”

It was clear that everyone was now included in Grandpa’s wrath, and anything they said would just be more fuel for his fire.

“Where you going, Pa?” John asked.

Grandpa considered this for a minute, then announced cryptically, “I’ll be with a friend.”