Memphis Blues Again: Book I, Chapter 4.

Copyright © 2012 Bob R Bogle



In Page County, Iowa, there lived a man named Captain Conner who had a droopy, sandy brown moustache and alert brown eyes under the shadow of his hat.  Captain Conner had come to Page County from Maryville, too.  He always wore a brown suit from which dangled a gold watch chain.  He owned the old Stonebraker Mill.  He might have something like a slight smile under his moustache, but if so, it was not to be believed.  His eyes would be drilling in whenever he looked at someone.  Everybody called him Captain Conner even though really he was a judge.  Sometimes they saw him by chance when Cutter took the wagon to buy supplies in the little town.  It was not really a town but just a crossroads with a dry goods store.  One cool spring day Tom watched both men when they happened to meet at the store.  He could tell that Captain Conner did not approve of Cutter very much, but Tom didn't know why.  Maybe he just didn't like Cutter's looks.  Tom could understand that.  Captain Conner fixed his stabbing gaze on Cutter, and the dirt-streaked farmer turned his back on the other man, pretending to ignore him.  Tom could sense the shared dislike between the two.  It was quiet in the store except for the creaking boards.  Tom had never heard Cutter say anything about Captain Conner one way or another.  Not that Cutter ever spoke much about anyone or anything.  He certainly never spoke to Captain Conner if their paths happened to cross, and Captain Conner never spoke to him either, or even nodded to him.  He only watched.  At Mr Hawley's store Tom barely had time to look at the peppermint jar while Cutter swiftly conducted his transactions.  Mr Hawley with his wireframe spectacles wanted to discuss Kansas and Nebraska opening up, but Cutter would not talk.  He collected his purchases and immediately they went out to the wagon and started back for the little farm where they lived down on the East Branch.  Tom looked back and saw Captain Conner out at the end on the porch of the store, watching the wagon go around the curve and disappear into the trees.

They were not completely isolated in Iowa.  AP Rickarts had a little cabin close to the store in town.  But AP was an old bachelor who had only been in Page County for a few months, and Ma seemed to hardly know him, although she said they were kin from Tennessee.  Down in Nodaway County of course were Aunt Louisa and Uncle Ezra, and they were not too far away.  And the Shumers lived in Gentry County.  They were related to Ma's own mother's folks.  Tom had not seen the Shumers in a long time, and he could not really remember them, but sometimes Ma talked about them.  Tom wondered if Ma missed her mother, who was his grandmother.  But she had died a long time before Tom was born.

One of Isaiah Cutter's uncles, Vernon Clark Cutter, had a store of his own in Clarinda, which was a small village about ten miles away.  They only saw Clark Cutter and his old gray, unhappy wife once or twice when they happened to travel to Clarinda, but they never stayed overnight, even though he was Isaiah Cutter's kin.  About the only difference between Page County's two towns was that Clarinda had two intersections and Hawleyville had one.  Vernon Clark Cutter was a big man with a pasty face.  He wore a white apron in the store.  He was quiet and secretive and he never smiled.  His head looked like a great big egg, Tom thought, and he hoped he could be there to see when it finally hatched.  Tom was glad they never stayed overnight in Clarinda because Clark Cutter's boys were already old and moved away from home and there was nothing to do there.  Last year after Victoria was born Clark Cutter got in some trouble for selling liquor in Clarinda.  There were stories that Tom overheard about how Captain Conner had tried to connect Isaiah Cutter to the crime, but his involvement was never proven.

Years later Tom would think that those had been good days in Iowa, but they only lasted a few years.  Cutter worked the farm and Ma kept the house and looked after Hiram and Victoria.  Frank and Mary and he had their chores, but also they had plenty of time to play.  Of course there was Frank to look out for, but after he got tired of bothering them he would go away and they might not see him the rest of the day.  Frank had his own friends who were older boys and not the kind that Tom liked.  Once at the store in town Ma bought some pencils and some paper for the three bigger children, and especially Tom liked to draw.  Also they had brought Ma's pony up from Missouri, and Mary and he would sometimes ride him together in the mornings.  Tom liked to go fishing in the East Branch with some of the other boys from up the road around Hawleyville in the afternoons when Mary had to take her nap with the babies.  This pattern held steady every day for a long time until they opened the log schoolhouse with its oiled paper windows, but luckily he only had to attend school for a few months.  It was his first school ever.  By now Tom was eight years old.

Cutter spent his days in the fields, but he couldn't keep ahead of the weeds, and his rows were never very straight.  Too many big rocks in the fields turning the plow, he said.  As long as Tom knew him, Cutter never made a good crop.  Sometimes Cutter made Frank help him on the farm.  Frank was strong enough despite his age, and anyway Frank made too much trouble at the school.  Frank kept growing bigger and bigger while Tom seemed to remain the same.  Cutter sometimes cursed Tom for being too lazy and too small to help on the farm.  Usually though Cutter didn't bother to speak but was quick to fetch the switch when the children were close at hand.

It was a bitterly cold winter, and they all had to stay inside the little house close together for a long time.  It was hard to do.  Cutter got mad whenever the babies would cry, and Frank was always trying to make problems.  Once he took some of Tom's drawings and put them on the fire.  Then Tom was more angry than he had ever been before, and he started yelling and hitting Frank with both his fists.  Then the babies were all crying and Ma was trying to pull them apart, but it was Cutter who broke them up and took Tom outside into the snow with the switch, and because of the cold it seemed to hurt like never before, but still Tom didn't care because he was so mad about the drawings.

The winter seemed like it would go on forever, but the snow and ice finally melted.  Then it was wonderful to finally be outside with the wildflowers and the tall grass.  When they went to town there were all kinds of stories Mr Hawley wanted to tell about the Kansas Territory, and something about a war they might have with Spain.  But as usual Cutter didn't care about any of it.  He conducted his business, and they hurried back home.

Spring came and went, passing on into summer.  The air became flat and hot.  When it was especially hot out, or when it was late in the evening when the sun had gone down and he couldn't see to work anymore, Cutter would meet Clogan at the other man's barn, which wasn't much of a barn but only some old gray boards hobnobbed together.  If you were careful you could sneak up on them behind some bushes and listen to them cussing and chewing tobacco and drinking from Clogan's jars.  Now and again, though not often, Elisha Thomas joined the other men.  Everyone knew about how Elisha's son had killed himself, and some said it was because of his Ma, and some said it had to do with a traveling preacher, and others said it was because of a girl over in Taylor County.  Ma said she felt sorry for Elisha Thomas, but she didn't like him, or Clogan either one, but especially not Clogan.  She said Clogan was white trash, and Tom thought so too.  Then one day Cutter found out from his Uncle Clark that Clogan had been talking to Captain Conner about matters he ought better to have kept to himself.  After that it was all over.

Ma woke up the children very late one night.  The rickety wagon was already loaded.  Frank was up in front looking down at Tom as he came outside with the little ones.  Frank shook his head, looking bossy, but Tom yawned, ignoring him.  It was late in the summer and quite pleasant out, but Tom and the others were very sleepy.  It was a small wagon and they had to leave most of their things behind.  That included the pony, only the children didn't discover this until the next day.

Ma didn't want to go.  She was heavy with child again.  But Cutter insisted they had no choice.  She kept her lips pressed shut tightly and didn't say anything for two whole days.

Tom thought Cutter too seemed nervous and angry when he climbed up into the wagon next to Frank.  He was shushing the children to keep very quiet unless they wanted the switch.  Then he clucked up the two horses, which reluctantly began to pull the overloaded wagon out from the little farmhouse shack.

No one looked back.