In case you were wondering, Silas the Second appeared on the back stairs the night after Buzz's workmen started tearing down my kitchen, and he has been back twice since. I get the impression that he is not fond of the changes. I have regrets myself from time to time but, given the circumstances, there was no way on Earth I could refuse.
Thanks to Grumpy and his troop of legal beagles, the Tucker Foundation was up and running in only thirty days. Casey Jaworski, who is an expert at farming, dairy operations, and lean times, became the fifth member of the board. As you might expect, her selection pushed a certain person's nose out of joint yet again. Hail Mary believes that she should have gotten the nod, but Clara forbade it. I guess she failed to make an impression when she had the chance.
By Columbus Day, the foundation had loaned $4.7 million to thirty-one farmers in Hayes, Gage, and Pawnee counties. We're still getting upwards of fifty applications per week, but we all agreed that we couldn't deplete the fund too quickly, so we limit ourselves to one grant per day. Even that has attracted the attention of the press, which has kept poor Lo running all over the place. Somehow, she has still found time to raise my goddaughter, although it has to be a bit of a chore. Last week, Laverne came home from preschool and announced, “I hate meatloaf!” Marie, who cooks for Calvin and Loretta nowadays, had taken the ground round out of the freezer to thaw, but she hadn't even cracked an egg.
It would have been a tragedy to board up the River House, so Mona, Mark, and John moved there in my stead. The very next day, Consuela and her husband disposed of all the toothy dead heads on the dining hall wall. Mark is working for Calvin and the Tucker Trust after school, and John has been retained by the foundation to find Mary Beth Tucker, Clem's estranged
daughter, plus Herb and Barb Knepper. He caught up with Rufus and Winnie Bowe in Geraldine, Montana, two weeks ago and they are on their way home, but nobody is on the lookout for Beryl and Flathead Williams. I hope she has found her ocean by now.
The news of John Warren's sympathy card pushed Lily Park Pickett to the verge of apoplexy, of all people. The next thing I knew, she had formed an official Circle committee to investigate Lohengrin's Children. Pokie, Tulip, Louise, and a dozen other girls have thrown in with her, plus Edith Pickerel, the librarian from England. Lately, they have organized themselves in subcommittees: one is researching the widows; another is looking into the mystery of the
Lady Be Good;
and a third has just been created to investigate a legendary oasis called Zerzura on the Egyptian border near Libya. Coincidentally, it was thought to be inhabited by descendants of the Crusaders, and it was located within a few hundred miles of where the
Lady Be Good
went down.
Lily invites me to all their meetings, but I have yet to go. I make up some kind of excuse as a rule, but the real reason is that I don't want to know any more. In particular, I don't want any more facts. I have nothing against knowledge; it's just that I want to keep my faith in Mr. Moore intact. A person can't have faith in a fact; it's a fact. Faith is a belief; it requires a measure of doubt. For that matter, so does hope, and I hope with all my heart that he can find his way back to Ebb one day. Until then I will keep his room ready, and I will await his return, along with Loretta, Laverne, and a thousand others.
Wouldn't you know it? Mr. Moore was right all along.
Uncertainty is the spice of life.
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© 2008 by George Shaffner. All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. While, as in all fiction, the literary perceptions and insights are based on experience, all names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.
eISBN 978-1-56512-644-2