It all made sense now: Elizabeth’s strange behavior, the empty rooming house, the abruptly ended conversations as he entered a room, Josh’s boys’ giddiness. It all made sense. After Pete’s affectionate greeting, the boy led Dodd to the church basement, where ALL of the Forrests were assembled.
For several years Luke Forrest’s family had intended to make a big event of Luke’s seventieth birthday. The entire family had not been together for almost ten years. Dodd, once he had gone east, had not come home until he finished his education. James’s and Matt’s families had been home but never at the same time. The requirements of the business were such that they did not feel comfortable both being gone at the same time. But Dodd was back now and The California division had developed very competent non-Forrest management personnel so letters began to fly back and forth among the families discussing preliminary ideas and plans.
Originally it was planned that the reunion and celebration take place at the home ranch. That was the logical place and all of the boys wanted to recapture some of the security, fun and love of their childhood that the place would engender. But when Lillian told of Dodd’s complete commitment to his work and of her doubts that he would leave Harvey Bloom with no help, plans were changed so that the reunion would be held in Carson City.
Wives and children went with the Forrest boys to one of the monthly meetings to finalize the plans. Pete was anxious to see cousins and he was ecstatic at the thought of seeing his grandfather again. But cousins and grandfathers did not occupy his attention. The idea of a family reunion excited him. Not only would he see Dodd again but he would be surrounded with Forrests—and love. Family had become very important to him and he wanted to be a part of the planning.
Most of the aunts were reluctant to trust a boy of Pete’s age with important arrangements but Libby knew her son and knew the importance of trusting him with responsibility. To allay the others’ fears, she agreed to keep an eye on him but she knew the boy’s almost fanatical commitment to something that interested him. She knew he would do well. It was finally agreed that Pete would write the necessary letters to arrange housing for all of the Forrest clan members.
It had not been easy keeping the secret but Pete had insisted. He had loved Dodd’s teasing and surprises and wanted this to be his coup—his loving way of getting back. Pete did well with the housing arrangements. He had talked his daddy and Uncle Josh into paying Mrs. Looney to keep her rooms available, and made reservations for as many hotel rooms as were needed at the Silver Strike. Libby had helped him figure out how many beds would be needed and occasionally made a suggestion but Pete really needed little help. When all the reservations were made, he had written the letters to all his uncles informing them of their accommodations.
He had wanted it to be a surprise for his grandfather too, but there was no way to get Luke Forrest to Carson City without his having at least some idea of what was going on. Luke suspected the whole family would be there but he had given Pete the satisfaction of acting surprised when they all met that afternoon. Luke did not have to act moved. He was a strong man, but emotional and demonstrative. He wept at seeing all his family, and he hugged Pete. Luke had found, as he had thought he would, that Pete had many qualities he admired. The boy thought much as he thought and had the tenacity of mind and vigor of spirit that were often attributed to his grandfather. Luke hoped his friends were correct in their compliments. He hoped that he did, indeed, possess those qualities he so admired in other people. Be that as it may, he and Pete had developed a strong and loving relationship. Pete had wanted to honor and please his grandfather as much as he had wanted to surprise Dodd.
Of course, Dodd knew that his father’s seventieth birthday was coming and he had given some thought to trying to get home for the celebration. But the demands of the practice and Elizabeth’s strange reluctance to accompany him had put the thought from his mind. He, of course, wanted to get home to honor his father and to see Pete, whom he was sure would be at the celebration, but mostly he wanted to introduce Elizabeth to those of his family who would be there.
But by the time Pete and Dodd arrived at the church, Elizabeth had met most of his family. She was the first to hug Dodd as he entered the room. Elizabeth placed an arm around Pete and included him in the embrace. To his own surprise, Dodd was completely overcome. He was in the arms of the two currently most significant people in his life, in the presence of his father and hero, and—as nearly as he could tell from the quick glance he was allowed before Elizabeth’s embrace—everyone he loved in this world. His weeping was not merely a quiet shedding of tears. He sobbed and the extent of his emotion had most of the room in tears. The Forrests had always been an expressive family but this atmosphere would have moved even the most stoic person. The love in that place was as palpable as was the aroma of the food.
It was a comfort to Dodd to be so surrounded by love rather than injury, disease and death. It occurred to him that this—love and family—not constant, painful rethinking of the incomprehensible was the solution to his intellectual professional dilemma. As the magnitude of his emotion subsided, he still clung close to Pete and Elizabeth as he whispered in her ear. “I do need you so much, you know. Please marry me soon.”
She kissed him. “It will be soon,” she said.
An exhilaration flowed though him but he did not press her further. He kissed her again and bent to kiss Pete on the forehead. Elizabeth, too, kissed the boy and repeated what she had told him in the afternoon. “Dodd has talked so much about you that I felt I knew you but now that I’ve met you, I completely understand why Dodd loves you so much. You’re a very special boy, Pete, and I love you too.”
Pete beamed. He’d been right. Losing Dodd didn’t mean lost love. Elizabeth loved him like he’d hoped she would and even now when Dodd had Elizabeth, he still loved Pete as much as he ever did. Pete was twelve. He thought mostly about his friends and horses and guns and his dog and learning about the cattle business from his daddy and, of course, playing, but when you’ve lived for eleven years without it, even if you’re a young ’un, you think a lot about love.
There were many people with whom Dodd needed to talk. He had not seen his California brothers since he left for Harvard. There were numerous nephews and nieces he had never seen. He wanted to spend time with his father, and he wanted to be sure that everyone had met Elizabeth. But Pete still clung to him and he did not want to disappoint the boy by not giving him all the time he wanted. Dodd himself had ambivalent feelings. He could not have explained the kind of love he had for the boy. He was a man, confident and successful, but Pete was very much a part of what he was. It was more than love Dodd felt. It was a kind of mingling of spirits—almost as though neither was complete without the influence of the other. Dodd no longer felt the need to parent Pete. The boy had his parents but there was a communion between them that Dodd knew he would never feel with another person. There was no explaining it. What he felt for Elizabeth he felt with his whole being: intellectual, emotional, physical and spiritual. What he felt for Pete was mystical. It was a kinship, a brotherhood and—in spite of their age difference—a deep, deep friendship. He didn’t really try to understand it. He just enjoyed it. Dodd wanted Pete’s company as much as Pete wanted his.
There was no question of Pete’s love but Pete was a boy. Lukie came running past. “C’mon. We’re playin’ hide and seek.” Pete ran after Lukie, got to the door, turned, and shouted back at Dodd, “We’re sleeping at Mrs. Looney’s tonight and I’m sleeping with you.” Dodd remembered the boy he’d first seen at Lakers’, frightened, angry, suspicious, and gaunt. His heart, already full of love for the boy, burst with pride and a kind of gratification at the confident, happy, trusting, healthy child he now saw enthusiastically and joyfully romping with his cousins.
Dodd went first to his father. The older man held his years well. Had Dodd not known, he would never have thought him seventy, neither from physical appearance nor vitality of life. Luke had never been domineering, but in every relationship he was dominant. He was a tall man whose slender build belied his enormous physical strength. Luke was of the long, thin, steel cable muscle type. Ectomorphic was the term one of Dodd’s professors had used. The outside of the man was impressive. His physical skills, in the early years with his fists and a gun, now with an absolute mastery of the physical skills needed in ranching, would have, in themselves, made him dominant. But it was the heart of the man that really set him apart. He had the heart to tackle and overcome the most difficult of obstacles, the heart to stay with problems that would not be easily and quickly solved, and the heart to see and move to correct injustices that eluded other men or were ignored by them. But mostly, he had the heart to love. Dodd, fully understanding that now, and moved by his own love for the man, embraced him with the passion of fond childhood memories and of that understanding.
Dodd had seen his father at the Rokers’ but while he had greeted him then with love, Dodd’s mind was preoccupied with the losing of Pete and anxiety over what reception he might receive from Elizabeth. Now this was a day to honor the man and Dodd could give his full attention to the man whom he loved and admired most of anyone he had met. Not much was said but an understanding passed between the two men—of pride and love, and of thankfulness for the existence of the other.
“You look tired, boy. Are you getting enough sleep?”
“I’m all right. I guess I’m always tired but I’m fine. We just need more doctors in this town.”
Luke looked at Elizabeth. That afternoon he had told her of his joy that she would soon be a member of the family. Now he teasingly said, “Took you long enough, boy, to get around to courtin’ this pretty lady. I was afraid you were going to let her get away.” And then to Elizabeth, “He’s had eyes for you, you know, since he first met you. He just got to Harvard and was distracted by those Greeks. But he’s a good boy. I knew he’d come to his senses.”
Luke hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. “Glad to have you part of the family. Only thing is, it’s going to take some doin’ to get used to being related to Herb.”
Elizabeth returned Luke’s kiss. “You’re right there. It took some doin’ for me to get used to being related to him.”
His father’s hearty laughter almost made Dodd a boy again. He was home, loved, and in an atmosphere of togetherness, security, jocularity, and happiness.
Dodd and Elizabeth moved from brother to brother. The conversation was always loving and witty. Dodd was called Percival by several of the brothers, then they feigned fear, threw up their arms in mock defense against the plight that had befallen Bill Thorn, and Dodd’s dinner time threat—of which all of them had been dutifully advised by Josh. There were wives to be hugged, new babies to be cuddled and cooed over and playful insults to be exchanged.
When they got to Jared and Libby, however, Libby was surrounded by sisters-in-law. She was in the midst of a detailed soliloquy on the virtues of each of her sons. Each of the women listened with the interest of a mother and with delight and a kind of vicarious fulfillment at Libby’s obvious elation. Children are the favorite topic of all mothers, and expounding upon the exceptional qualities of brand new babies is the God-given right of any mother. But these were women who had empathized with Libby’s disappointment for years, had wondered at the unfathomable—that this woman so completely qualified for being an excellent mother, and so full of desire to be one, should be childless.
Any new Forrest arrival was met with curiosity and gladness but they all knew the characteristics of a newborn baby. Libby’s new children, however, were not newborn. They had developed personalities and individual characteristics. They had been the objects of a curiosity that could not be satisfied by letters. These children had to be seen and described directly from the mouth of the mother.
They saw nothing boastful or presumptions in Libby’s joy. There was only deep love and thankfulness to God. Those were the motivations of Libby’s descriptions and those were the motives of her sisters-in-laws’ eager listening.
When she became aware that Dodd was at her side, Libby fell into his arms and sobbed. Jared, also with tears in his eyes, hugged Elizabeth and expressed his delight that she would soon be a Forrest. But there could really only be one topic, their thankfulness to God and to Dodd for their sons.
“I thought I had accepted God’s will and was happy with the life He had given me”, Libby said when she had regained her composure. “But I think He was just preparing me for real happiness.”
As she spoke, a sense of calm and peace enveloped Dodd. He had known this intellectually, but seeing the love in his brother’s and Libby’s eyes allowed him to know it emotionally. The boy who had taught him so much about life, the boy he loved, was with the right people, in the right place.
Several of the nieces, too old for the hide and seek game, were anxious to meet this phantom uncle of theirs. Two of Scamper’s girls remembered him but the others were either too young or were born in California after Dodd left for the east. There were more hugs and kisses. Many questions were asked, most of them directed to Elizabeth, about college. Women going to college was still a very rare occurrence, especially in western Nevada, and several of the girls were planning to go. The California girls were a bit more confident but no less curious. All of the girls were experiencing trepidation, some from the normal anxieties of leaving home and some from anticipating the social stigma that most of society placed on a woman with the audacity to attempt to enter the world of men. But all these girls were Forrests, with the Forrest will and determination. They would go to college regardless of any deterrent, either personal or social. Elizabeth’s pluck, poise and encouragement, however, put their minds more at ease.
The ladies of the church were preparing the food. Mrs. Looney was coordinating the activity so there was no question that they would be fed well and bountifully. All of the Forrest men were built like Dodd and his father, tall and slender, but all were very hearty and joyful eaters.
A hearty meal had always accentuated the Forrest good humor. Jokes, wisecracks and loving, playful insults floated around the room with the aroma of food and atmosphere of affection.
Dodd felt a slight pang, quickly replaced by deep satisfaction, when Pete went with Ervin to sit with Jared and Libby. It had wisely been decided that families were to eat together. The decision, born of a vision of fifteen boys between the ages of seven and thirteen, armed with food, eating together unattended, was made by the mothers, experienced in boy-created catastrophe. Dodd knew where Pete belonged, but the last time he had seen the boy, it was to him that Pete had come for parenting. Dodd’s heart filled almost to an overflowing through his eyes as he realized that Pete and Ervie had as regular and loving a family as any child in the room. Dodd was satisfied for Pete and Ervie, but he knew, he definitely knew, that he could never again be completely satisfied until he was a parent himself.
It was after the meal, when it was too dark to play outside, that Dodd was surrounded by the nephews and nieces who had previously been involved in outdoor play and bombarded by questions. All the family was proud of Dodd and these children had heard so much of him and his brilliance that they were in awe of this man who had been to college in the east, who was both a doctor and a lawyer, and who was their uncle. Pete had filled them in as to Dodd’s quickness with knife and gun and his ability to win, as Pete saw it, any argument. Joshua, who had heard his father tell the story many times, filled them in on Dodd’s jujitsu and boxing skills and had boasted, along with his next younger brother, Noah, that Uncle Dodd was teaching them jujitsu.
Dodd patiently and playfully answered questions, and teased and tousled the children. The tousling was done with some difficulty because Ervie had staked claim to Dodd’s lap and it very soon became obvious that he would brook no claim jumper. Caleb and Reva had tried to move into territory that had usually been theirs but Ervie gently but firmly gave indication that their attempts were to be of no avail. Other children who would like to have set on Uncle Dodd’s lap, saw that, at least for now, such hopes were in vain.
Although he had spent almost no time with Dodd, Ervie loved him and even in his ten-year-old mind, knew that Dodd was the reason for the love and happiness that were now his. Pete had talked incessantly of his love for Dodd and the joy of the man’s caress. Ervie was now comfortable in his parents’ love and went regularly to them for affection. But Pete’s euphoria at talking of Dodd’s hugs made Ervie yearn to know them too. Being close to Dodd was something he had to do. Dodd sensed that and allowed the boy to stay, even though he was aware of the disappointment of the other children.
Dodd noticed with some concern that his father, James, Matt, Josh and Elizabeth were huddled in a corner engaged in very serious conversation. He knew it had to do with business but the gravity on all the faces made him wonder if the company was in some serious trouble. The gravity, however, soon gave way to levity and laughter and the participants began to wander off to harass some brother or embrace some sister-in-law. Dodd put the matter from his mind, glad that the men did not spoil Elizabeth’s whole evening with business.
The mothers did allow one concession to cousinly togetherness, in spite of the possibility of havoc. All boys eight and older were to be allowed to camp out in Josh’s back yard. There was a murmur of incredulity at Lillian’s consent to the plan but she said that she could tolerate it for one night. The boys rarely got to see one another and they had already played hard enough that they were pretty well worn out. Lillian felt they would all be asleep in an hour. She was to learn differently.
It was also arranged that Sim and Rachel would stay at Mrs. Looney’s and all the girl cousins old enough to be away from their mothers and young enough to want to would sleep there. Jared and Libby would sleep at Josh and Lillian’s. As it turned out, Lillian was glad for that. The boys were not asleep in an hour. They were still having rowdy, noisy fun after two hours. Finally, at about two o’clock Josh and Jared went out, quieted the boys down and spent the rest of the night trying to sleep on the ground, under the stars, to be sure they stayed that way. Pete was with them. He had apologized to Dodd for disappointing him but he didn’t get to see his cousins that often. There would be other times he could sleep with Dodd, Pete had said comfortingly, but he didn’t know when he was going to see his California cousins again.
Dodd feigned disappointment. He loved the boy and would have gladly shared his bed but he was really somewhat relieved. The boy slept like a windmill.
Harvey Bloom had attempted to get Dodd to take the next day off to be with his family. The next afternoon there was to be another celebration, not only for family, but for friends too. This part Pete had not planned and there would be a surprise in it for him. Dodd did agree not to make house calls but left a note on the office door as to where he could be found if needed. He did get to visit some but most of the day was spent patching cuts, thumping chests and otherwise doctoring. Pete saw what was happening and began to understand why Dodd had not come to see him.
There was no building in Carson City large enough for the group that would gather that evening. Crews of mine employees had built tables and several fire pits on the grassy banks of the river. Beef halves were being turned and Mrs. Looney was busy directing the church women in the preparation of other foods. The river was low and children splashed happily or rough-housed with their fathers in the cool water.
Guests began to arrive soon after noon. Uncle Henry Glenn got off the one o’clock stage. Luke wept as he embraced his old friend. Henry wept too, not only for his old friend, but because, for a time, the sight of Luke’s happy family would not allow him to keep Harry from his mind.
Herbert and Sarah Hatcher were there. William S. Fuller, the Governor of Nevada was there. Lester Markley was there, as were most of the state officials. All of the management staff of the Carson City bank and mine were there. Forrest bank and mine employees from other towns nearby were there, too.
Carson City folks were surprised when Hannah Prater and her children drove up in what looked like Doc Bloom’s surrey. The children, as if caught in a swift current flowed out of the surrey directly into the river. Ivan Prater, who had held a responsible management position at the mine, had died a young man, leaving Hannah and seven children. How kind, folks thought, for the Forrests to include her in the festivities. Everyone was so busy enjoying themselves that they took no time to puzzle over why she would be driving Doc Bloom’s surrey.
There were now perhaps fifty or sixty children frolicking in the river. Since the line shack, Pete had loved the water. He still found solace and freedom as he glided effortlessly under the surface. He was a much better swimmer and diver now. So was Ervie. Their daddy also loved the water and loved to swim with his boys. Pete was having fun, playing with the other children, diving off his daddy’s shoulders, trying to knock Lukie off Uncle Scamper’s shoulders, or trying to keep an eye on Uncle Josh who loved to swim under and tickle his feet. The bottoms of Pete’s feet were ticklish and Lukie had to go and tell Uncle Josh. At least he didn’t pull his britches down like he did Joshua’s. Lucky that part of Joshua was under water. There were girls swimming there too.
Pete thought he heard a familiar voice but the yelling, laughing and shrieking of the happy children made him unsure. He continued to dive for rocks but each time he came up, there was the voice. He finally looked in the direction from which it seemed the voice was coming. Then it was Pete who screamed with delight. Standing on the river bank were Becky, Austin, Flory, Clinton and the rest of the Brians.
Pete ran to them. He gave no thought to the people around him. He wrapped his wet arms around Becky and kissed her on the cheek. She returned the kiss. There were kisses also for Mama Harriet and Papa Jess. Both Pete and Ervie had rowdy hugs for Austin. The Brians were dutifully greeted.
All the newly-arrived children were soon in swimming apparel, splashing and squealing and having watery fun. Lukie, the cousin who knew Pete well enough to tease him, did just that for the kiss Pete gave to Becky.
“She’s like my sister. I’ve already seen you kiss your sisters.” To Pete’s conscious mind that was true, but even at twelve years of age, he had a vague inkling that that might not be the only reason.
Carson City folks were afforded more gossip material when Pick Fillion arrived with his children in tow and Miss Celia Veterhoph on his arm. Miss Veterhoph was the teacher who had replaced Elizabeth and while there was no shock that she would accept courting from Pick (Pick’s metamorphosis seemed almost complete), there was chagrin that the courting had advanced to the arm-in-arm stage without anyone knowing of it.
Pick moved comfortably among the dignitaries. There was none of the rough exterior or crude, aggressive behavior here. That part of his past was still useful in his dealings with folks who had taken-in children, but his lifestyle had become as poised and dignified as anyone else’s who was present. He had become a very valuable assistant to Josh. He had become a valuable research assistant to Elizabeth and had some faint notion of reading the law himself.
The man did read vociferously. Advised by Dodd and Elizabeth, he had read history and some philosophy and was fascinated by the classics. He never did discover what happened to the life force when you slapped a mosquito but he knew much now. The more he knew, the more he had to know.
Pick lost his poise only once that afternoon. When the meal was ready and the children were gathered in family groups and the blessing was being said, Pick wept bitterly for Levi. Even that incident of pathos contributed to the repertoire of the town’s gossips. Celia Veterhoph embraced Pick, and he her, and he placed his face on her shoulder to muffle his sobs.
It was a day that should never have ended. Never had Dodd felt so much pride in his father and his family. Never had he wanted more to be married with children of his own. The Governor spoke glowingly of Luke Forrest, called him and Jess Roker two of the most important men in bringing about Nevada statehood. Uncle Henry spoke of friendship and loyalty. Scamper spoke of family and love. He spoke lovingly of his dead mother and reverently of his father. Those gathered, even the children, sat in rapt attention, moved by the eloquence, but more by the love they all felt for the man.
Pete was proud and a little surprised. To him Luke Forrest was grandpa—someone whom he dearly loved and who was a good, good friend. He had heard the stories but he had no idea of the esteem in which his grandfather was held. He heard the accolades being poured on his grandfather and he was proud, but they were not as important to him as was the fact that Luke Forrest loved him. Pete could not help but remember McGurdy and Laker. He was twelve but he knew where he’d been and where he was. He thought of children still at McGurdy’s and wondered, “Why him?” He didn’t know at twelve and he wouldn’t know the day he died. He could, however, pray the silent prayer of thanks to God that had been prayed so often when he contemplated his good fortune.
Copyright © 2003 Gordon L. Klopfenstein