Editor’s Note: This is an ongoing series which runs each Thursday morning titled the Richland Chronicles Volume 4, by author Paul Lintern. It is set in the 1830s and tells the story of Richland County through the eyes of young people. This is the fourth in a series. Volume 1 was Amelia Changes Her Tune. Volume II was Isaac and Wolf Paw Find Their Home. Volume III was Autumn Keeps Her Secret.
What if she doesn’t like me? Old lady schoolmarms don’t like girls that don’t like picnics and bows and stuff.
What if she doesn’t like me wearing boots and climbing trees and carrying my musket?
Natalie didn’t mind the idea of going to school. She could tell it was worth learning the things grown-ups know and can do. She knew it was the price to pay for knowing what price to pay at stores and such.
And she didn’t mind giving up a few nice days throughout the year to sit inside and read and learn because she liked the outdoors no matter what the outdoors was like.
She carried her musket with her everywhere, and took target practice whenever it presented itself, as long as it did not get her in trouble, and sometimes when it did.
It was not as heavy as her father’s musket — she still could hardly lift that — but it was real and it worked well hunting small game and within reasonable distance.
She made her own ammunition from lead, same as her father, and would regularly impress anyone who watched her shoot. Natalie and her musket knew each other well.
She paused on her walk, noticed movement in the grass to the right, drew a bead through her sights, took a deep breath, held it, squeezed the trigger, and there was an explosion, a motion in the grass.
Stillness.
She instinctively ran her hand over her hair to be sure no sparks ignited her long coal black mane. Then she stepped through the grass right to the spot where the rabbit was dropped as it sat.
This can be a peace offering to my teacher. I can even skin it for her.
She felt her carving knife on the leather belt around her waste. A gift from Father when she turned 10. She looked at the sun.
I hope I’m not late. Well, I haven’t heard a bell. Don’t even know if they have a bell. There’s a church nearby, maybe they can ring that bell.
She started running.
“You’re going to be late anyway, you know.”
Natalie almost tripped from the shock of hearing a voice. It came from above.
“Thomas Whitney, you come down from that tree this instant. What is the idea trying to scare me? You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you for a squirrel.”
“I’d have hit you with an acorn first,” he laughed, climbing down in three big steps.
As he landed, he picked up a satchel that he had set at the base of the tree.
“You don’t care that you’ll be late for school?” Natalie asked.
“On the first day? I’ll be surprised if the teacher gets there on time. Hear she’s from Mansfield. Probably can’t even ride a horse. Doubt she’ll find the mill in time.”
“Your daddy know you are dawdling like this?”
“Does yours?”
“They’re busy getting ready for harvest. Surprised they let us go,” Natalie said.
“I’m sure there’ll be days we won’t be going, once the crops are ready,” Tom replied. “Teacher will get pretty lonely some days, unless she comes out and helps.”
“That’ll be the day. Probably why she teaches, ‘cause she can’t farm.”
“Heard Eston tell his sister that she is big as a cow and ‘bout as pretty,” Tom said.
“How does he know?” Natalie asked.
“He just does. Heard if from the folks at church.”
“Did not, they don’t talk like that.”
“Maybe not to you,” Tom smiled.
They walked quietly; neither was in too big a hurry.
“What do you have in the satchel?” she asked.
“A little something for Teacher, from my parents,” he said.
She felt it.
“Rocks?”
“Eggs, and a couple bags of meal, and some okra. Mother loves her okra. Says it reminds her of her raisin’s.”
“She has raisins in there too?”
“No, raisin’s, you know, reminds her of how she was raised,” he said.
Natalie nodded her head.
Guess it is worth going to school, just for the learnin’s about raisin’s, she thought.
Just then they heard a bell ringing.
“It’s time, we better put wings on our feet,” Natalie said.
“Race you to the school,” Tom said.
“With me carrying this musket and rabbit? Hardly fair.”
“I’ve got this satchel. I’d beat you anyway.”
“We’ll see about that,” and Natalie took off, one hand hitching up her skirt, while holding the rabbit by its ears, and the other holding her musket balanced so it pointed straight ahead.
“Hey, not fair,” came the voice from behind.
Natalie would have replied, but she knew she need all her wind to outrun the fastest boy she knew. For awhile she kept in front, but then she had a feeling Tom was just pacing behind her until the end.
I probably started this race too soon, she thought, and her legs began to feel more and more like tree trunks.
“Nice try, Nats,” Tom said, as he burst past in the last several yards to the mill.
Samantha and Esther were at the front door. They saw it all, as did a boy Natalie had never seen before. And there was Georgietta, all prim and proper looking, and there was Jacob, soaking wet. Several of them greeted her, but all she could do was gasp for air.
