Days of Youth

by Sunny © 2002

Kid

The blow stunned the slender boy and he fell to the dirt. His entire body felt heavy. The last punch hadn't been so bad, he decided, it mostly deadened the stinging of the previous onslaught. He could hear the voices of the crowd of kids that had assembled around him, but ignored them, laying still with his eyes closed. Unwilling to rise to his feet again, he hoped he would just be allowed to lie there-molested no further.

"Kid, Kid! Oh, now, come on, let me help you up! Garth, help me, won't you?" Doritha was kneeling beside him, trying to sit Kid up.

"Paul, how could you?! What's wrong with you?" she screamed at a pug-faced boy, grinning arrogantly not four feet from them.

Kid wished that Doritha would be quiet, each word seemed to ring in his head similar to a hammer striking an anvil.

"Kid, please. Let's get up. Garth! Where are you?" The crowd of children had almost entirely disbursed, and the Garth of the request simply made sure to catch

Doritha's eye before he deliberately turned his back and walked away.

The sun was high in the Virginia blue, and the heat, his hunger, and the beating made it nearly impossible for the boy to even imagine standing up for while.

"Oh, here comes Miss Andersen, Kid. It'll be ok."

Upon hearing this, Kid attempted to force himself upright. He was rarely able to come to school, and he certainly didn't want to be seen like this on his first day of attendance in nearly a month. "It's ok, Doritha. I'm alright. Here, see."

He heaved himself forward and up, Doritha helped to balance him and she held him firmly around his back as he tried to stay on his feet.

"Kid! Here, no, you sit back down. Doritha, go get me a cup of water for him." Kid felt himself being helped back to the ground, and felt only sheer embarrassment at having his teacher begin stroking his hair and fussing over him.

"Really, Miss Andersen, I'm fine. I'll be ok, just give me a minute."

"Now, none of that. Doritha's fetching you some water. You can just sit here until she gets back." The young school mistress' voice was shaking wildly, and she was just as worried about her job as she was about her young student. She was only 19 and felt totally out of her element in front of the children at the school house, she certainly didn't want this incident to convince the townfolk of her inadequacy as a teacher. "Oh Kid, I need to find you a ride home, you can't stay at school like this. How are you feeling?"

"I'll just walk. I'll be fine, ma'am. I don't need any help"

"I absolutely won't hear of it. I can't let you walk back alone."

Reverend Mason is comin' right after lunch to teach arithmetic to the older children, he can take you home afterward. Kid cringed inwardly at the thought of riding with the elderly and somber man. The man's wrinkled face reminded him of when his brother Jed had once bitten into a sour crabapple.
Kid found his feet light under him, unsure. But as they made their way slowly back toward the schoolhouse a wagon came rumbling by.

"Good day, Miss Andersen."

"Good day to you, Mr. Allen." She replied, blushing prettily.

Kid stared at the ground, hoping that Tom Allen wouldn't notice his condition and that he could slip back toward the school as the two spoke nothings. But, there was no such luck

"You've had some trouble today?" asked the grinning man, nodding toward Kid.

"Oh, you know how boys'll be. I keep them under control inside, but outside. . ." her words trailed off. "Kid here is going home with the Reverend after math lesson. I want him to go home and do a little resting and healing for the rest of the day."

"Well now. I'd be happy to take him. I'm sort of headed that way myself. Don't you worry about a thing, Miss Andersen."

"Oh, no, really. I insist."

Kid felt like he wasn't even there, and wondered why he was being offered the ride. No one "sort of headed" out toward their dirt farm.

"Oh, would you. Why, that would be so kind. I'd really like to see Kid get home as soon as he can."

"My pleasure," he replied tipping his hat and smiling at the school marm, not once looking at Kid directly.

"Well, go ahead Kid. Mr. Allen has offered to drive you home." She explained, as if the entirety of the conversation had been lost to him.
Kid hopped into the back of the buggy and thanked Miss Andersen and Mr. Allen for their kindness and apologized for being a bother.

The ride passed in relative silence, and it was clear to Kid that the only reason he was receiving the ride was Tom Allen's desire to chat with his pretty teacher.
When they arrived within eyeshot of the sad farmhouse where Kid's family lived, he was informed, not unkindly, that he should "hop out here" so that his ride could get to his "other chore."

Kid thanked his benefactor again and received a small sympathetic smile in return.

"Hope you feel better soon. I hope the other guy looks worse than you."

Kid nodded non-committally, and Tom chuckled as he brought the reins lightly across his pretty palomino's back.

Kid's mother happened to look up from her task at hand to see him walking slowly toward the house. "Honey, oh, what's happened?" The woman was nearly as slender as her young son. A fading calico dress, and brown half-apron swished listlessly around her legs as she hurried out to meet him.

"I'm sorry momma, I didn't mean to get into a fight. . ." He fought back tears, ashamed, even at the age of 9 years to be crying in front of his mother. . ."

"Come here, let me help you clean up." She led her son who was resisting her coddling toward the porch and sat him next to the sad-looking turnips she had just been washing. She dampened an end of her apron in a bowl of water and began dabbing at her son's broken lip.

"It's okay, Momma, Miss Andersen helped me. I'm alright, she cleaned me up. And Mr. Allen drove me out here. I didn't have to walk." His weak attempts at protest did no good, and the tender-looking woman continued in her care-taking. As she cleaned her son's face, she took in his appearance. His clothes were slightly too large, and looked much larger on his thin frame. His wavy, sandy hair and lightly freckled face were set with lovely blue eyes which mirrored her own.

Rebekkah was stabbed with pain at his build, and grieved that there simply wasn't enough to feed her growing boy. At first, when her husband started staying away from home for longer and longer stretches, the ladies from church freely brought additional meals, and at times, extra flour and corn meal. Once, the Harveys brought several pounds of fat back. A feast at the time. But in the last year, the family had been nearly forgotten. They had been unable to make the trek to church since they had to sell their cart mule Jeremiah, and as no one lived their direction, Rebekkah was determined not to be a burden and request a ride into town with any other of the church-going families. The two-mile trek wasn't so hard in the beginning, but as Kid got older and meals became scanter, she felt guilty at making him walk into the town more often than he had to.

The summer had been a good one, however, and with the crops coming in, those that they were able to maintain, Kid found more energy he reassured his mother that he was capable of walking to school. That morning, with nothing more than a soda biscuit in his pocket, he had left for school, only to come home beaten and looking more miserable than his mother could bear.

"Momma, are you ok? I'm sorry."

Rebekkah started at his words, not realizing that her eyes had filled with tears as she stared absently at her child.

"Oh, honey, of course." She swiftly wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "Do you want to rest? You need to lay down for a little bit, it'll help you feel better. And, Kid, we're going to have turnip greens for dinner tonight. We'll dry the turnips for the winter, but the greens are good now."

Kid forced half-convincing smile through his sore face. He had convinced her that greens were one of his favorite things because he knew her grief at not having a heartier table. "Sure, Momma, that sounds good."

"Alright, now let me be, I need to finish this." His mother dismissed him with mock frustration. As Kid turned to go inside the house, he heard an amazed "Oh, Lord, is that. . ." Once again, the woman jumped to her feet and dashed off the porch.

"Jed, Jed!" She clutched her older son to her chest, and tried to rock slightly with him. "I've been so worried about you. Don't leave like that anymore! I just can't take it.

Kid approached, but stood several paces off from the scene.

"Momma, Momma, I'm fine, really. Now, quit, here, I brought you something." He pulled away from her embrace, surprised and embarrassed at his mother's display over him including the shame he felt at what his sudden departure had done to her. He thrust one small and one medium-sized pullet at her. "I worked for a farmer for a while, and he gave me this instead of pay. Says I can stay there and keep workin' for him." Jed grinned broadly at her and nodded with satisfaction.

The gratitude and joy on their mother's face at the sight of those two birds somehow saddened her two boys, but they didn't let on. Jed suddenly took his mother by both shoulders and kissed her cheek and said softly.

"I'm sorry I left without saying anything. I just didn't think I could say good-bye. I had to go do this. To do this for you and me and Kid."
At this, he turned toward his brother who was now gazing upon his older brother with admiration. Seeing his bruise-colored face, Jed shook his head lightly and took the birds back from his mother. "We'll go boil them out back. You don't worry about nothing tonight ma, we're gonna have a feast!"

"Lord, Kid, You're lookin' a mess." Said Jed poking at the soggy, feathered creatures rolling about in the boiling pot. "What the hell we gonna do with ya?" Kid's brother had recently turned 14, and was becoming proficient with mild cursing. Kid chalked this up to his recent venture out into the world. "Who was it this time? Kid, I'm keep telling ya to stay away from Garth. He's gonna be a bad one."

"Weren't him." Kid replied mildly, gently tasting the purple and red swollen area on his bottom lip. "It was Paul, I just need to learn to stay our of his way."

"What you need to learn is how to fight," his brother replied sternly.

Kid examined Jed's face, searching it for a jest. Finding none, he replied. "Are you gonna teach me, then?"

"Suppose someone'll have to."

"Can we start tomorrow?"

"Yep, we'll start then."

"Jed?"

"Oh brother, what? You know, a body always knows when you're gonna start something because you always interrupt decent talk by saying their name."

Kid, sniffed and drug his bare heel on the ground in front of him.

"Well, I was just wondering about those chickens. Who were you working for?"

Jed didn't reply, and stared darkly into the water.

"I was just wondering. I mean, could you tell him that I can work too?"

Suddenly, Jed's entire body language changed. He relaxed and shook his head, and very nearly chucked as he said, "Nah, Kid. . . He, uh, he's got plenty of help. In fact. . .he really doesn't need me, I just think he keeps me so I quit pestering him. So, it's ok. I got it taken care of."

Something about his brother's arrival and the chickens seemed curious to Kid, but he was unable to put his finger on it. It would be nice, he thought, to be able to bring home meat to his mother and, of course, to eat it.

His brief revere was broken-"Kid, get that bucket over here, so I can put in the bird. You get to take off those damn stinkin feathers."

That evening was one of the happiest in Kid's recent memory. His mother didn't wear that world-weary and anxious look that he had grown accustomed to seeing. She actually hummed as she brought the birds and boiled greens to the table. Kid's eyes nearly popped out of his head as he surveyed the table before him. Jed stifled a snort of amusement at the sight.

She sat herself beside her older son and asked Kid to ask the blessing.

"Thank You, God, for bringing Jed home and for us being together and having this good food. I'm very happy for us to be a family tonight. Amen."

"Amen" agreed his mother.

Jed cut up the larger bird into quarters and Rebekkah served heavy spoonfuls of the turnip greens onto each plate.. . .

"Why don't we sing a little tonight?" seeing Jed's hesitation she added "it would mean so much to me."

They began together on "Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing" on the same note. Jed, who had a rather fine voice settled into a lower harmony and one Rebekkah was sure that Kid had a firm hold on the melody, she lifted her voice to a higher harmony and together the family sang joy and comfort into the tiny house. After singing three verses of "Praise to the Lord, the Almighty" and laughing and trying to pick their way through "All People That On Earth Do Dwell" and an only half-serious argument about the order of verses in "There is a Fountain." Kid requested "Be Thou My Vision." He couldn't remember all of the words, and Jed quit after the first verse, but their mother sang on. The sweet melody was so familiar to him, and he could remember when his mother used to hum that in the evenings when there was more food in the house, and beautiful needlework in her hands. He leaned against his mother's shoulder and basked in the happiness of that simple moment. There was a fleeting fear when he was embarrassed at having lost himself and glanced at Jed, to see if his brother would later mock him, but the look of appreciation on the older boy's face reassured him that the evening meant as much to him as to the younger.

Later that evening as the two boys vied for room on the cornshuck mattress they shared in the room that served as sitting room, dining room and bedroom, Jed's curiosity got the better of him.

"So, the old man hasn't been back."

"Not since he left last. He hasn't been home in nearly two months."

"He can't call this home, as far as I'm concerned. I was worried about you and Momma while I was gone. I didn't know what would happen if he came while I was gone."

Kid didn't respond, he just stared into the darkness of the room.

"If I teach you to fight, you gotta be smart."

"I will." His reply was something over a whisper.

"You don't do anything to get you or Momma hurt, you understand?"

Kid's affirmative reply was but a whisper.

Jed was feeling for something under the head of the mattress.

"It's still there." Kid said. "He doesn't know it's there. Momma neither."

Jed was relieved to feel the long iron bar with the tips of his fingers.

"You be smart, Kid. You use it if you have to. . . I hope to God you don't have to."

"Me too."

"I wished I could stay here, protect you two."

"I know, but you're doing good, Jed." Kid was quick to reassure his brother. "You keep working, I'll take care of Momma, I promise."

Jed smiled lightly into the blind darkness and tousled his brother's hair. "You need to cut this. You're shaggy."
Kid slapped his brother's hand away. "Yeah, I know. Lemme sleep."

Kid turned toward the window and settled in, and Jed drifted into an uneasy sleep, with his hand still awkwardly cocked toward the weapon hidden where they slept.

The next morning, after a breakfast of soda biscuits and some of the remaining chicken, Jed intended to began the training of his younger brother. His mother asked whether Kid was going to school that morning, and he replied that he'd wait till the next day, when his face felt a little better, "and besides, Jed and I can help you haul water today, too." Rebekkah bit back an argument, but figured that Kid should have a special day with Jed and settled herself into beginning the travail of hauling buckets of water from their well to the fading garden.

"Momma, why don't you wait for that? Kid and me'll help you this afternoon. 'Sides, you don't wanna do that before the heat of the day."

"Don't you worry, Jed, you and Kid go do what you want for a while. Then, you can help."

The boys would see none of it, though, and helped their mother until she was satisfied enough to go inside and see to some of the mending and sewing she had taken in for some other ladies in the area.

Out in the small grove where Kid and Jed spent their more careless afternoons, Jed squared his brother in front of him.

"Damn, doesn't it make you near sick to have to see Momma work so hard."

"Yeah," Kid nodded his head gravely, wondering if he was somehow being scolded.

"That bastard. That man's a real bastard, you know that? He should be taking care of her."

"I reckon it's better that he's gone. . .I mean, than when he's here."

"Well, he's heavy-handed when he's here, that's for sure. I don't know why she ever married him."

Kid couldn't understand it either, and didn't reply.

"Here," Jed said with a huff. "Ball your fists and stand there like you was gonna fight."

Kid got into what he supposed was a good stance and held his clenched hands in front of him.

"No, geez, Kid. Let go. You don't put your thumbs inside, then you break 'em when you hit who you're fightin." He took his brother's hands and slid the thumbs over the first knuckle of the clenched fingers. "Like this. Good, now keep your hands up. You're right-handed so keep that one slightly higher, 'cos that's the one that'll be your strong one. Your left hand'll be mostly for seconding and blocking a punch if you need to."

Jed put his younger brother through paces teaching him to jab quickly to the face and how to position his feet to give himself the best balance and the best chance to move quickly and strongly into, or away from a punch. They worked at slap fighting for nearly an hour, focusing mostly on having Kid watch and see what being in control in a fight looked like from the inside.

Kid watched his brother like a hawk, his eyes taking in every movement of Jed's body. He seemed able to anticipate when Jed was coming for him, able to determine feigned punches and fakes just by watching his brother's stance and balance.
"This is slow, though." He told himself. "I can't see it like this when it's really happening."

When they stopped for a quick breath, the boys leaned down with their hands of their knees and Kid asked, "So, where'd you learn to do this anyway?"

There was a brief, but pregnant silence. "Pa."

Kid nodded and raised his fists again.

As they circled and jabbed at each other in the high afternoon, the boys started to sweat, and both looked forward to a cool dip in the creek. But if Jed wasn't letting up, neither was his younger brother.

Jed took a lazy swing at Kid's face, but Kid anticipated it well, and blocked it, and rounded on his brother with a quick, uppercut to Jed's jaw.

Jed's head snapped, and Kid was hasty to apologize.

"I didn't mean to hit ya that hard. Sorry. . I"

After his momentary shock, Jed smiled with true surprise and respect on his face.

"Well, I didn't expect that, Kid. That was good though. You moved quick. It's ok, it doesn't hurt that bad."

Kid didn't look too sure.

"Here let's go for a few more minutes then we'll go jump in." he reassured his brother.

Kid and Jed once again put up their fists and. . . It was a slow practice and the heat was tiring them both. Jed would give pointers from time to time, when he had breath. "Now, this is slow, Kid. You won't be able to think so much when you're really fighting. He'll probably fight dirty too, try to jump on you and stuff. . . But you keep your distance. If you ever get on the ground and start wrestling, get up quick. . .You're good and quick with your hands. You're real natural. On the ground you're too small. The weight of the person you're fighting will be too much for you if you get to wrestling." Kid would wait for Jed to start panting after one of his didactic little speeches and make his move then.

"That's smart, Kid. But I don't like you getting' too smart." Jed grinned half-way at him, and Kid grinned back with his full face, in spite of the discomfort and the salty sweat aggravating his cuts and bruises.

Jed took a swing at Kid's face, tapping him loosely on the left cheek. "So, what we're ya fighting over. Doritha."

"Nah, Jed. Told ya, it weren't Garth. It was Paul. He said our pa was a drunk wife-beater."

Kid felt a dull orange heat in his head and fell to the dirt. He started up at his brother and clasped his head in his hands.

"You fought him over that?"

Kid sat there dumbly.

"You fought over that?! Why? Why'd you do that?! It's the truth, Kid!! The truth!!! Don't you know that?!"

Kid nodded nearly imperceptibly.

Jed stood strongly and firmly before Kid and with a sneer and a pointed finger to accentuate exactly what he was saying, he continued, "You don't always honor your parents. You don't fight for your father if he's a bastard. Didn't you hear me earlier?"

He waited for an indication from Kid that he's been heard.

"If you fought for that, you deserve what you got! You don't defend him. Not when someone's telling the truth! Not about him!"
Jed was almost spitting in fury.. .

At school the next day, Kid was ready, and so was Paul.

As soon as lunch was finished.

"Hey Kid, didn't see ya at school yesterday. Thought ya might have been afraid to come back."

"Not afraid of nothing here." Kid said smoothly.

"Yeah, I bet you're so afraid of being at home, you don't mind getting' beat up at school."

"Paul! You shut your mouth, or I'm gonna get Miss Andersen." Said Doritha with all the menace she could muster.

"Doritha, stay out of this, go play with the girls." Kid replied coolly, not taking his eyes from his adversary.

"Oh, that's right. You're pa's gone again. I guess you must be real glad about that." The pug boy paused for a second, "But, I did hear Jed's back."

The muscle in Kid's jaw twitched.

"My dad said that Jed stole some chickens from Old Hadley."

Kid's face contorted and he raised his fists.

Paul responded with a haughty laugh and arrogant smile. "Ohh, are we gonna box?" He laughed again. "Well I guess one man in your family has to be able to do something besides beating his wife and stealing."

"I don't believe you!" roared Kid.

A mocking smile crept over Paul's face.

"Oh yeah? I don't believe you." He hissed back.

A red rage seized Kid and he lead into Paul's face with his right fist. He felt the boys flat nose give with a nasty crunch, and drew back with the same hand to hit him again in the stomach. Kid threw his entire body behind the punches, but was overcome with such anger that he then followed Paul to the ground and pummeled him, hardly realizing what he was doing. He had pounced on the hollering boy and was . . .. Hearing only the piercing screams of Doritha and the frantic cries of Miss Andersen as she tried to pull Kid off the bleeding and groveling boy under him.

The End of Part 3

Part 1 Ike's story - Part 2 Lou's Story - To be continued'