After the funeral there was a great deal to do to prepare for our move to New Hampshire. We each had to sort through all our belongings under guidelines from Grandpa. Since we would all be in one bedroom we had to get rid of a great deal of stuff, much of it outgrown or of little use in our new surroundings. This of course was not done without conflict, especially between me and Grandpa.
There was a lot of debate over whether or not we should take the family computer and printer since there was no internet at Grandpa’s house. Grandpa voted against it, saying that the machines would simply take up room and he was not about to subscribe to the internet. However, because both Derek and I used it for writing homework assignments we finally convinced him that it should go.
Another bone of contention was the TV. The new home had no cable and was not about to acquire it since it would be an added expense which Grandpa decided he couldn’t afford.
“What the heck are we gonna do for entertainment then?” I protested. We can’t get computer games and now we won’t be able to watch our favorite shows.”
“There’s not much time for entertainment on a farm,” Grandpa replied. “You could always read or play games together, or you might develop some sort of hobby with your hands, like wood-carving.”
“Oh, that sounds like great fun,” I grumbled. “I can’t wait.”
“Don’t sass me son or you’ll regret it,” Grandpa said quietly. Fortunately, he had the good sense to walk away before the conflict could grow any hotter.
I knew Grandpa was really trying to help us and I guess I was grateful for that, but sometimes I just couldn’t control my anger at the whole situation. It was almost like there were two Gregorys inside me who were at war with each other.
Another time Grandpa looked at what I imagine to him seemed a rather strange pole with a net on it, asking, “What’s that thing?”
Derek told him it was a lacrosse stick.
“What’s lacrosse?”
“It’s a game. The Indians used to play it.”
“Well, nobody plays lacrosse where you’re going, so you might as well leave that behind.”
“But Greg and I could at least play with each other. Maybe some other boys might get interested.”
“Take it if you want to, but you’ll need to find space in your bedroom for it.”
Meanwhile, Grandpa made arrangements to foster us, which a court agreed to because he was our only living relative. He also arranged for the lawyer who was handling our parents’ wills to assume responsibility for selling the house and the contents that were left.
We grumbled some at this, and finally I confronted Grandpa. “Do you think you’re going to get the money from selling the house? Because if you do, we’ll find our own lawyer and fight it!”
Grandpa stared at me in disbelief. “Of course I won’t get the money,” he replied with quiet impatience. “All of your parents’ assets, including everything from bank accounts, investments, cars, and this house, go into a trust for you three boys to pay for your expenses and, eventually, for college if you decide to go. I’m not gonna make a damn cent on this deal.”
Finally we set out for New Hampshire in our grandfather’s old Ford truck, all our belongings packed under a tarp in the back. The drive from Wellesley, Massachusetts, to Wemberly, New Hampshire, seemed endless, although it was less than 200 miles.
The truck cab was not big enough to hold all four of us, so Derek sat between Grandpa and me, straddling the floor shift, while Teddy sat on my lap. We all knew that was illegal so Grandpa was taking a chance but he drove carefully and we never got stopped.
As we drove, Grandpa glanced over at the three of us, crowded together in the cab. “OK,” he said, “I can see that Gregory and Derek look a bit alike, although Gregory’s hair is lighter and his eyes are hazel while Derek’s are brown to match his hair. But where the heck did Teddy’s orange hair and thousands of freckles come from?”
Derek and Teddy giggled but after our battles over what to pack I had become determined not to like this man or anything he said, so I kept quiet. Teddy finally answered, “Mom told me that there were redheads with freckles on her side of the family so I guess that’s where I got them from.” Grandpa smiled and nodded.
After we left the traffic around Boston I tried to find our new home on the map.
“Just follow the Connecticut River north ’til you come to Lancaster,” said Grandpa.
“My God!” I exclaimed. “How far north is it?”
“Well, if you get to Quebec you’ve gone too far.”
When I finally found Lancaster, Grandpa told me to keep going north along the river. I did, finally coming to Wemberly, although I had to squint to read the small print. “It’s tiny,” I said. “How many people does it have?”
“Oh, a little under five hundred I imagine, but of course that includes all the farms around. When we need anything except very basic supplies we go to Lancaster.”
“Five hundred… in the whole town?”
“Ayuh, but I live about ten miles outside of town. Can’t farm in a town after all.”
“Doesn’t it get kinda cold up there?”
“Yup, but you get used to it by January or so.”
“Well, how can you farm if you’re so far north?”
“Oh, I grow hay in the summer to feed the cows, I milk the cows, I have chickens and a few pigs, I grow potatoes, I have an apple orchard, I have a vegetable garden, and in early April I tap trees for maple sap. I don’t make a lot, but it’s a living and I grow almost all my own food.”
Shoot, I thought. We’ll be off in the boondocks with nothing to do. Little did I know how wrong I was.
As we rode I thought about us all crammed into the truck. Taking a sidelong glance at Grandpa, I wondered who he really was. Oh, I knew he was Dad’s father, but I had grown to hate Dad and I hadn’t seen much of Grandpa that I liked except, I had to admit, he had taken us in without a backwards look or a complaint. His face and hands were seamed, showing the tough skin of somebody who worked outdoors a lot. He had a scraggly gray beard and he wore his long, graying hair in a ponytail. I thought he looked like an old hippie.
Derek, sitting beside me, was the one Mom called, “My inscrutable boy.” At the thought of her, my throat caught for a moment but then I smiled at the memory. Sure, Derek was loud and he teased me as much as I teased him. But his smile was often enigmatic and I frequently wondered what was going on in his head. When Mom died he hadn’t cried. In fact, I couldn’t remember that I had ever seen him cry.
On my lap, Teddy was wiggly and a chatterbox. Unlike Derek, with Teddy what you saw was exactly what you got. He was outgoing and energetic, fun-loving and yet very soft inside. He had cried a lot when Mom died and was buried. Often, as now, he clutched his teddy bear.
And who was I? I didn’t even know the answer to that question. I was fifteen, but some people thought I was old for my age. I knew I could be shy when I first met people. I knew I had a temper which had sometimes gotten me into trouble. Like Teddy, I had cried when Mom had died, but at the double funeral I had decided that I had to be stoic for my brothers even though watching her being lowered into the ground and covered with dirt had hurt terribly. Most of all I guess I knew I really loved my brothers and I wanted to protect them even when I didn’t know how.
So there we were, a truckload of question marks with a future we couldn’t begin to grasp.
Along the way we stopped to eat the sandwiches we had packed in the morning. Derek and Teddy were excited by the mountains we passed on the way north, Mt. Washington topping them all off. I had to admit to myself they were pretty impressive.
“Can we climb some of those?” asked Derek.
“Maybe, if we’ve got time and you’re strong enough. I doubt you could make it up Sugarloaf yet.”
We arrived about two-thirty in the afternoon. As we pulled in, a dog bounded off the porch to greet us. It appeared to be part golden retriever, but it seemed to have a lot of other parts as well.
Opening the door of the truck, Grandpa called, “Hello, Charlie. Did you miss me?” The dog was so excited he tried to leap into the driver’s seat, but Grandpa pushed him back down and got out, where he stood and let the dog leap up and lick his face. We had never had a dog and Teddy especially was eager to play with him.
“No playing now, Teddy,” Grandpa said. “We’ve got just about time to unload the truck before you start your chores.”
“What chores?!” I demanded.
“Everybody on a farm does chores. That’s the only way we can survive.”
“Well, I don’t do chores. Just use some of our trust money to buy what we need.”
Grandpa stared at me for a long moment before he shook his head and said simply, “No chores; no food.”
“You can’t do that!” I yelled.
“I can, and I will,” he replied calmly. “Now get your things out of the truck.” With that he went into the house while we began to unload our belongings and carry them into the house.
“C’mon, Charlie,” Teddy said, holding the door open.
“The dog doesn’t ever come into the house except when it’s too cold out, and then he stays in the kitchen,” Grandpa said.
“Why?” asked Teddy.
“He’s got his chores to do too, and they’re outside, keeping watch over the place, especially at night. Now go on up the stairs and into the room on the left,” Grandpa said, so up we went, me muttering, “I’m not doing any fucking chores. He still has to feed me.” It took several trips, and when we were done, there was no room to move until we started to put things away.
The room’s walls were plain pine boards. It had a closet, three dressers, one twin bed, and bunk beds. I grabbed the twin bed for myself leaving my brothers to fight over who got which bunk. We found we could store some things under the beds and in the corners, but the dressers were not big enough to hold all the clothes we had brought, and the closet might have been almost adequate for one of us. Grandpa had told us to sort out the winter clothes, and in a while he came up and showed us where to put them. There were only two rooms with a little hall between and a tiny bathroom with just a toilet and sink upstairs. The second room Grandpa had made into a closet where we now put our winter clothes. It was full of stuff — quilts, parkas, fur hats, heavy socks — everything that might be needed for winter. I looked kinda scornfully at them thinking that some of the clothes must be several generations old and they were certainly out of style, but fortunately I didn’t say anything — this time.
When we had put away everything we could, every available space was full to overflowing. Teddy and Derek went back downstairs. “C’mon, Gregory, time for chores,” Grandpa called.
“I’m not doing any chores!” I yelled back.
“Last chance,” he called.
“Good!” I yelled. I heard the three of them leave the house. Then I lay back and stared at the water-stained ceiling. He can damn well do the chores himself, I thought. I’m not a slave.
I lay on the bed until I heard the others return. Soon I began to smell food cooking — bacon and scrambled eggs, one of my favorite meals. Heaving myself off the bed I went downstairs.
“Gregory, I got the eggs myself from the hens!” exclaimed a delighted Teddy.
“And Grandpa showed me how to milk the cows so we’ll have some of that tonight.”
“OK, boys, have seat,” said our grandfather. He dished out three plates, putting them in front of Derek and Teddy and himself.
“Where’s mine?” I demanded.
“I told you, no chores; no food.”
“Dammit! You can’t do that! I’ll have Child Protective Services after you!”
With a tight little smile he asked, “And how are you gonna get to Lancaster to tell them?”
“What?”
“That’s where their office is. I think you’ll find it’s quite a walk.” Derek and Teddy giggled. I slammed my hands on the table, glared at Grandpa, and stomped upstairs.
Later I went back down with my jacket on. “Where are you going?” Grandpa enquired calmly.
“I’m just going for a walk. Don’t worry, I’m not walking to Lancaster tonight. Maybe I’ll save that for tomorrow.” I stormed out the door.
When I returned two hours later, I asked where my brothers were. “They’ve gone to bed, and you’d better too. We get up at five you know.” I looked at him as though he was crazy and went upstairs. The boys were both asleep, Teddy in the lower bunk and Derek in the upper. I took off my clothes except for my boxer shorts. Going into the little bathroom I took a piss and brushed my teeth. Then I returned and crawled into bed. I was still angry and now I was hungry too, so it took a while before I went to sleep.