Marty did not take much teaching. Henry had noticed an unusual level of coordination for a nine-year-old. Marty was athletic and quick to learn. Within an hour he was putting the fly where he wanted it almost every time. The first fish the boy caught was an enchanting Marty Moment. The boy's glee and excitement permeated the air, the trees, the stream, the cabin and most of all, Henry. What a difference that boy had made in his life.
Marty loved the woods. He loved the cabin. Really, it was somewhat of a mess. Henry had not visited it in five years but it had remained in surprisingly good repair. Henry had, for years, hired a security firm to keep an eye on the place so if it had deteriorated, he would have been notified.
The inside needed a great deal of attention and much of Henry's time that weekend was occupied with housecleaning. Henry had encouraged Marty to take Fritz and go exploring or lion hunting. Marty, however, insisted on helping Uncle Henry and the boy was, indeed, a great deal of help.
Marty went home Sunday evening tired but with a great deal more pretend material. He now had that big white house, all those cows, that big white barn and now the cabin in the woods. But most of all, he had Uncle Henry.
It was arranged with the Trollers that Henry would pick Marty up on his way home from work each Friday evening. Marty tried hard not to boast too much about his special weekend privileges but he was a very exuberant boy and occasionally he could not contain himself. Eventually, each week the entire group home assemblage of children was gathered on the porch, yearning and somber, waving goodbye to Marty. Henry ached for those left behind but he could not take them all. He would, in time, have special parties when all the children and the Trollers could come out for an evening.
Marty's third weekend with Uncle Henry was spent at home—or rather down at the barn and at Uncle Reind and Aunt Betje Friesema's. Uncle Reind was from Holland and that's way far away. You got to fly in an airplane because you can't take a car or the Jeep. There's an ocean in the way.
Uncle Reind and Aunt Betje talk funny. When Marty first got to know them, he had to listen really, really good or he wouldn't know what they were saying but Marty liked them really, really good.
Uncle Reind knows a really lot about cows. Uncle Henry said so. But he don't know the right name for them cows. Uncle Reind calls them Friesian but Uncle Henry calls them Holstein and they're Uncle Henry's cows and anyway, Uncle Henry knows everything. But even if he don't know the right name, Marty still liked Uncle Reind really, really good.
While Marty was at the barn, he got to see a calf being born. It wasn't all black and white like most of them cows. It had some brown in it. Uncle Reind said that was because that calf's daddy was from New Jersey. Uncle Reind called that calf's mama a heifer and said that a bull from New Jersey was usually the daddy of a heifer's first calf so it wouldn't be too big. Uncle Reind said that calf was a nice little bull.
Uncle Henry had stayed at his house to work on a case. Marty didn't know what the case was for. He guessed Uncle Henry wanted to put something in it. When Uncle Henry came to the barn to get Marty, Marty was still in the throes of his calf Marty Moment. He chattered away about how he seen the calf's legs come out and how Uncle Reind had to pull real hard and how the calf was all slippery and ucky and how the calf's mama licked all that ucky off the calf and the calf had that brown on his face because his daddy was from New Jersey.
'Did Uncle Reind say that his daddy was a Jersey?'
'Oh, ya, that.
'And the calf was so funny when he tried to stand up and Uncle Reind showed the calf where to get his supper. It's right there from them tits—ain't tit a bad word?'
'Not when you're talking about cows. Since that's the first calf you've seen born, I think that he should be yours.'
Marty Moment to the tenth power! He had both men laughing and Fritz in a frenzy. Henry didn't know how the boy could think in all that excitement but as soon as he calmed down, he announced that his calf's name was Ferdinand. He had read a book about a bull named Ferdinand.
After Henry had returned home from dropping Marty off, he discovered that Fritz was no longer his dog. Fritz had slept at the foot of Henry's bed since he was a pup. Henry had gone to bed and read for about half an hour when he realized that Fritz wasn't in his usual place. He went looking and found the dog curled up in Marty's bed. Henry called to the dog but got a look from Fritz which seemed to say, 'Go to bed, old man. This is where I belong.'
That was all right with Henry. The boy had stolen his heart. He might as well have his dog too.
On Tuesday at about 9:30 Henry received a call from Steve Brainard. In a county as small as Jefferson, court is not always in session and there happened to be no cases on the docket that day. Henry was preparing an opinion on a civil case.
'Are you busy, Dr. Schmidt?'
'Steve, please call me Henry or Hank. No need to be so formal. If you're ever dragged before me in my courtroom, then I'll be Your Honor. In the meantime I'm just Henry or Hank. Deal?'
'Deal.'
'There's always something to do here but, no, I'm not extremely busy. Why do you ask?'
'Marty's been crying most of the morning. He says that he's not hurt and no one did anything to him. He says he's crying because he loves Uncle Henry so much. He says he tries to stop and then he thinks about going fishing or about Fritz or about his calf and he can't help it. To quote him exactly, "When I think about them things, I think about Uncle Henry and I just cry. I love him so much."
'I think he would benefit from spending the afternoon with you.'
'I'll be right over.'
When they arrived home, Marty spent the first half hour cuddled in Henry's lap, sobbing softly, kissing and being kissed, occasionally having to wipe one of his or Uncle Henry's tears from his cheek and being licked by a whining and equally solemn Fritz. He finally sat up and planted a long hard kiss on Henry's mouth. 'How come you cry when you're happy?'
'I'm not sure, but I do it too. Since you really started living in our house, I've come to like happy crying.'
'I do too. Can I live here all the time? I like Uncle Cecil and Aunt Myrt but I love you. Ain't people who love each other 'sposed to live in the same house?'
'Honey, I'd love to have you live here all the time but I have to be gone sometimes and you're just nine and I couldn't leave you alone.'
'Aunt Betje could watch me.'
'Marty, please try to understand this. I love you and it makes me very sad when you're sad so please try not to be sad. Do you know what a law is?'
'Ya, we learned that in school. It's like a rule.'
'That's right and there are some rules about who can take care of nine-year-old boys. Those rules would say that I'm too old to take care of you.'
'You ain't old. I seen old people. They sit in chairs with a blanket around them and they have a lot of bottles of pills. Mrs. O'Hara lives in the second floor back. She's old. I bet she has a hundred bottles of pills. I already killed a rat for her.'
'You killed a rat? How?'
'She seen me going up the stairs and said a rat come in her apartment. Could I kill it for her? I got Julio's bat and chased that rat into the corner and it tried to jump at me. I'm good at baseball and I swung and hit it and smashed it all over the wall. Uck! Julio's mama cleaned it up. I would have puked.'
'You're a brave boy.'
'Ya, Mrs. O'Hara said that too. So, you ain't old. Can I live here?'
'Marty, you don't think I'm old and I don't think I'm old, but the rules think I am and they would never let me keep you all the time. I wish I could. I miss you when you are not here just like you miss me. If you're brave enough to kill a rat, you're brave enough not to be too sad because the rules won't let you live here all the time. You will be brave for me, won't you?'
'I guess, but I hate them damn rules!'
'What kind of rules?'
'Oh, ya, damn's a bad word. Sorry.'
'We'll still have every weekend, and when school's out, you can probably come out for a week at a time.'
'Don't you got to work all them other days?'
'I get a summer vacation just like you do.'
'Oh, ya.'
'Do you want to stay all night tonight? I'll call Aunt Myrt and see if it's all right.'
'Ya! Can me and Fritz go to the barn and see my calf?'
'Change your clothes and go on down.'
Henry watched as they ran across the field. What is it about a boy and his dog? 'Annie, do you see that? I love you and I miss you but I'm a happy man and, oh, do I love that boy!'
Do calves imprint at birth like animals in the wild? Ferdinand bawled and nuzzled and butted at Marty as if saying, 'Bout time. I missed you.' Had the calf also imprinted the boy's idiosyncrasies?
Uncle Reind had made a calf-sized halter, which he taught Marty how to put on Ferdinand. Over the next hour, Marty began Ferdinand's education. The calf was taken on a tour of the barn and all of its unique features were dutifully explained. At first, Ferdinand was wary of Fritz but soon association and education overcame instinct and it became difficult to determine whether Ferdinand considered himself a dog or Fritz considered himself a calf. At any rate, a friendship of sorts—or at least an understanding and acceptance—developed between them. Ferdinand was playfully butting at Fritz and equally playful, Fritz was gently nipping at Ferdinand.
Marty stayed at the barn until afternoon milking had started. That fascinated him. 'How do them cows know which one is 'sposed to come in first?'
'Cows aren't too smart but they can learn some things.'
There was ire in Marty's voice. 'Ferdinand ain't dumb. He's smart.'
Uncle Reind was a natural born psychologist. 'Ferdinand is a very unusual calf. He's much smarter than any other calf I have seen—even in Holland. This morning I hear him practicing his ABCs.'
'No you didn't. He's smart, but he ain't that smart.'
'Come to think of it, it was his Ms he was practicing. He was saying maaaaaaaaaaaaa. He won't say mooooooo until his voice changes.'
'Will he get poverty like Larry?'
Reind had no idea what Marty was talking about and he knew Marty well enough not to ask. Marty's comment was confusion enough. Marty's explanation would have been absolutely confounding. Reind was impressed by the boy's intelligence but he also knew that Marty could make any question or any explanation insolubly convoluted.
'We got work to do. We can't stand around here talking. The cows know how to come in because there's a boss cow and she decides.'
'How does she get to be the boss cow? Do they vote?'
'Yes.' That would have to do for now and Reind hoped to God that Marty didn't ask how they voted.
Marty didn't ask but he had a great deal to tell Uncle Henry that evening. He discoursed at considerable length on Ferdinand's genius and on the conviviality that now existed between his bovine and canine companions. He also, with considerable pride, recounted in detail the process of withdrawing milk from cows and the fact that he now knew how to apply the tit cups. He then needed to know, 'How come it's bad if you call what's on a lady tits and it ain't bad if they're on a cow?'
'What's on a lady should be called breasts. Tits is not really a bad word but it's an unkind word.'
'Like nigger?'
'Somewhat. The real word for what's on a cow is teats, but around the barn most people say tits.'
'You know, Uncle Henry, I'm trying to learn manners like you want me to but how can you tell sometimes? Some things are good manners in some places and bad manners in other places.'
'You're right, Marty. It takes time and I'll help you. Don't worry about it.
'You like Uncle Reind, don't you?'
'Ya and I like them cows. You know what? Larry likes them too and he wants to learn all about cows but Miss Bitch said that someone is drinking winter beer and messing up her plants so she can't take Larry to no farm. She don't like leaving boys with poverty.'
'Puberty.'
'Oh, ya, that. She don't want them boys at Aunt Myrt's, but whoever is drinking winter beer makes her.'
Henry was captivated by Marty's malapropisms and could usually figure out what the boy meant. But winter beer was a bit beyond him.
'Winter beer?'
'Ya, she said the guy with the winter beer is ruining her plants.
'Since she can't take Larry to no farm, can he come to ours? He really, really, really wants to learn about cows.'
Henry was glad for the chance to remove himself from the mystery of winter beer for the time being. 'I think that might be a good idea. If Aunt Myrt will let him, he can come with you on Friday and stay the weekend.'
'I don't want him to stay here all weekend. I don't want him to stay all night. If I can't live here all the time, I want the weekend to be just for me and you. Is that selfish?'
'Maybe a little but I know how you feel. I feel the same way. I love you, you little rascal.'
'What's a rascal?'
'It's a Marty.' Henry's tickles had the boy giggling. 'It's a boy who hides in your bushes and then crawls into your heart and you love him so much you just want to eat him up.' Henry nibbled at the giggling boy's ear.
'You better quit, Uncle Henry. You'll make me pee my pants.'
Marty jumped of Henry's lap and ran to the bathroom. Henry heard the toilet flush and then heard bath water running. He expected to hear the order, 'Come wash me.'
He didn't. In about ten minutes a naked Marty informed Henry that he wanted to play in the hot tub. He had taken a bath because he didn't want to get any cow shit in the hot tub. He didn't think he had none on him but he wanted to be sure. As he ran to the rec. room he said back over his shoulder, 'I never crawled in your heart. I'm too big for that.'
'It's semantics again, Marty.'
'Oh, ya, that.'
Copyright © 2004 Gordon Klopfenstein
Posted 4 December 2024