The House

By Dawn Natelle

I have been told that some people who do not visit the site daily are missing chapters, since when a new one goes up, then the old ones are dropped from the font page. So if you didn’t read Chapter 17 on Monday, you might want to go back and read it now: Dawn.

Chapter 18 – Meet Pierre

It was several days later. Yesterday Willow’s parents headed north just after lunch. Daisy had invited them to move in, and Elaine dearly wanted to. But Wilf said he had four more years before he could take early retirement, and a government pension was worth waiting for. But they promised to stay in Willow and Darryl’s lives. They would come visit every year at least twice.

Dary took quickly to his new responsibilities, tending the chicks closely. He would even take a book out to the coop to read while he watched over them. Rabbit had also taken to the birds, and would push them back into their area with his nose if they strayed too far.

Dary was walking out to the sheds after breakfast with Grey, who was planning to work some more on the canoes when a message came through. This time it was Mimiha: «There is trouble,» she said. «On the dirt road south of the house, about a quarter mile in. Take Rabbit.»

“Can you look after the chicks without Rabbit?” Grey asked Dary. “I need him for a bit.”

“Sure,” the boy said as he entered the coop. Grey whistled, and the dog looked confused: staring back at the chicks he had adopted, and then up at Dary. “Go with him, boy,” Dary said, and then Rabbit shot out after Grey.

Crossing the road was a chore. It was near the place where Rabbit had been hit by a car, and the dog was scared of both the road and the cars zooming past. He rubbed so tight against Grey’s leg that you might have thought they were joined. Eventually there was a gap of several miles between vehicles, and Grey trotted across the highway, with Rabbit practically attached to him.

Once on the opposite shoulder, the dog moved away, closer to the ditch. He wouldn’t go far as they walked a half mile east to a gravel side road. This road was seldom used, and wasn’t even ploughed in the winter. Three miles in was a dairy farm, and then some other properties, and thus the township ploughed the road to the south when it snowed.

About a mile along Grey discovered the problem Mimiha had seen. There were large Holstein cattle on the sides of the road, eating grass growing in the ditches. They must have broken out of their pen and gone after the virgin grass. Rabbit immediately went into action, running back and forth, herding the animals south again.

Grey had less luck. He tried pushing one of the huge animals, and it was like pushing a brick wall. Suddenly he felt something behind him, and turned to find a black wall behind him. It was a horse. But not just any horse. It was a huge draft horse that was taller at the shoulder than Grey’s height. A Belgian or Percheron, he decided.

“Hi boy,” Grey said, stroking the huge beast’s back. “I’d have no trouble herding these beasts if I could ride you, would I? Do you think you would let me up? It would be a long way down if you decide you don’t want me up there, so let me down gently if you have a problem with it.”

Grey took a deep breath, and a fistful of mane, and hauled himself up. Once he was on the broad back of the horse it danced a bit, then calmed down, looking back at the man as if he was proud to have a rider. Grey then started herding cattle south towards the farm.

Eventually he came to the north pen of the farm, and saw the problem. There was a gate, and it was open. He slid down after Rabbit and the big horse had gotten the last cow inside the pen. The gate catch seemed to be broken, and any cow pressing on it could open it. He closed it, and then laid a large branch across it. It would hold for a short while, but the cows would soon work their way out again.

He mounted the horse again, and then headed to the farmhouse. He got off the horse and headed to the house, but then saw that there were people in the barn stacking bales. The big horse wandered off to a water trough on the other side near a small shed.

“Hi there,” he said to the working farmers. There was an older man, probably the father, since the three boys ranged in age from 28 to 18 looked like younger versions of him.

They all turned, and the old man spoke. “What kin I do fer youse?”

“Your gate to the north pen is broken. I found about 20 cows on the road. Probably no danger on that road, but if they wandered out to the highway …”

“Yep. The OPP’d give me a ticket, or worse one of them fool drivers’ld hit one. Ayr they still loose?”

“No. My dog Rabbit helped round them up. They are in the pen, but the latch on the gate is broken. I used a stick to close it temporarily, but it needs to be fixed properly.”

“Yer a li’l thing to be movin’ cattle about,” the farmer said. “How’d yer manage?”

“Luckily there was a big black horse with one white sock out there,” Grey said. “He let me ride him and we pushed the cattle back.”

The farmer stared for a moment, and then broke out laughing. “Yer had me fer a minute kid, till you sed youse rode Devil. Thet horse ain’t never bin rode. What’s yer game?”

“That’s the truth,” Grey said.

“If youse rode Devil you kin have him,” the farmer said.

“Dad. Look.” The youngest boy pointed to the black horse, trotting out from around the barn after having his fill of water.

“What the …” The man looked at Grey again. “Did yer really ride ‘im?”

Grey answered by whistling. The big horse trotted over, and Grey hauled himself up. He then put the horse through some of the paces he had discovered out on the road. He turned him left, right, and even made him back up. As they went through the paces, he saw a raggedy old man standing near the smaller shed.

“Yer a magick man, you is,” the farmer said. “Paul, git one o’ the bikes and head out and check out that gate. Take some tools and parts wi’ you.”

Grey rode the horse, and the youngest son rode a moped out to the gate, with Rabbit trotting along, keeping closer to the horse then the noisy machine. When they got to the gate, it took nearly two hours to properly fix it. Grey suspected that Sun would have done the repair in 15 minutes.

During that time Grey got the entire story about the farm. Paul’s grandfather had come over from Holland after the war, and started off with four cows and a big vegetable garden. Over the years, the garden stopped being the source of the family wealth, and more and more cattle were bought. They had 30 now, and had just bought quota for another 15 under Ontario’s dairy supply management program.

Devil got his name for being unbroken. All three of the boys had tried, and two had been injured being thrown. He was trained to pull a wagon, or other implements, usually in a team with Marie, the second oldest of the farm’s four Percherons, but he never was broken to a saddle. Devil was 6, Marie 4 and the youngsters were Red, 3 and Stone 2. The farm had decided to sell the horses since it was Paul who cared for them mostly, and he was headed off to college in Toronto in the fall. They also wanted to tear down the stable to build an extension to the barn.

Grey also discovered that the old raggedy man was George Henson, the farm’s former blacksmith. He was now in his 70s and no longer had the strength to work the forge. The farmers had let him live in the forge rent-free for the past 8 or so years since he stopped working, but now with the old forge/stables were being torn down for the addition to the barn he would have to move. Paul didn’t know what would happen to the old man, who seldom came to the house, living on his small Canada pension.

When the gate was fixed to the satisfaction of both boys, they headed back to the farmhouse, where they found everyone getting lunch. Grey was invited to stay, and soon sat down to a meal that also included the apparent mother of the boys, and an older man who was probably the original farmer.

“Well son, I cain’t give you Devil like I sed,” the farmer said. “Pappy ‘minded me thet we got the horses from the big house onta other side o’ the road back in th’ 50s. We was jist startin’ out then, and them horses hepped us plough an’ stuff. Not the same horses, o’ course, but their pappy’s and momma’s. Anywayz the deal we got when the mill sent ‘em to us, free and clear, wuz that we hadda offer them to the house agin if we wuz to sell ‘em. So you kin only have Devil if the house don’t want ‘em.”

“I am pretty sure the house will want them,” Grey said. “I live there with Daisy … Miss Ridgemark. I fix the place up, and we recently cleaned out the old stable there. Your horses would be quite happy there.”

“Than it’s settled. Will youse take all th’ tack and th’ wagon?”

“We would be happy to.”

“Good, that means we jist need ter git rid of ol’ George an’ his tools and then we kin start on th’ extension to th’ barn.”

“We might even be able to help with that,” Grey said. “There is a room in the old smithy at the mill. We might be able to get him into that.”

“He caint pay much rent,” the farmer said. “He’s on pension, and it ain’t a big un.”

“I’m sure we can work something out,” Grey said. “Let me go talk to him first.”

Grey walked over to the shed, and found the old man eating a plate of beans.

“Gidday, sir,” the man said, standing quickly. “Can I offer you a plate o’ beans?”

“I just ate in the house,” Grey said. “They told me you were looking for a new place.”

“Yeah, I gotta be out of here by the end of June. I asked about a few places but the rent is almost as much as my check. Some are more. I was even thinking about living in the woods. The land behind the store is government land, I think.”

Grey looked at him. After living in the woods for two years, he doubted someone the age of George would survive even one year in the wild. Luckily there was another option.

“You know the forge over at the House,” Grey said.

“The one across the highway? I apprenticed to old ‘Orry there fer six years back in the day.”

“Well, there is a room or two at the back that you could move into.”

“’Orry’s old place? That’s bigger than my place here. Nicer too, if I remember right. What do you want for rent?”

Grey looked around at the smith’s tools. It looked like a complete shop, and one that would set Sun’s mouth to watering. Everything was covered in a layer of dust, but looked usable.

“Do you own the tools?”

“Yep. You looking to get into the smithy business?” George said. “Your arms look good, and broad shoulders, but you really don’t have the height or weight. I reckon I could teach you a bit though.”

“It wouldn’t be for me, but someone bigger than me. If you bring all your tools, and agree to teach us how to use them properly, you can have the room rent-free. For as long as you live.”

The old mans eyes watered up. He grabbed an old rag and wiped them, claiming it was because the years at the forge made his eyes watery. But he was clearly glad to have a new place to live.

“Do you know much about horses?” Grey asked.

“I’m a blacksmith,” George snorted. “’course I know about horses. Not the current bunch, but I shod all the other ones afore I hung up my hammer. Paul, the kid, he looks after them now, and I have to say he isn’t going a good job. All four of them need new shoes or their going to have foot problems soon. But Paul, he don’t listen to advice very well.”

“Well, I am Ojibwe,” Grey said. “And we honor the elders. Your knowledge is invaluable to us, and we would dearly love to have you move in. Daisy will have the final say of course, but I doubt she will turn you down.”

“Miss Daisy was a little girl when I was ‘prenticing. She used to come down to the forge a lot. Cutest little blonde thing. I made little toys and such for her. I’d dearly love to talk to her again.

It took two hours for George, Grey and Paul to load and hitch the wagon. Devil, which Grey decided to rename Pierre, and Madam would pull the loaded wagon, and Red and Stone were hitched behind. The first load had all the harnesses and saddles, and a good amount of George’s tools. It would take another load to get the rest.

They went up the north road that Grey had come down, past the gate, that now seemed solid in spite of a cow rubbing against it in hopes of popping it open again. When they got to the highway, Grey slapped the bench between George and himself, and Rabbit quickly jumped up, glad to not have to cross the road on foot. As they waited, Grey learned that George had some skills at leather working and harness and saddle making. The old man told him that the reason the black horse had never been ridden was that the saddle they used was too narrow for his broad back, and it pinched. A man in the saddle was downright painful, so of course the horse bucked.

“Dern fools wouldn’t listen to me try to tell them what was wrong,” George said. “They thought they knew it all.”

They waited nearly five minutes before there was a gap in the traffic long enough for the wagon to cross to the far shoulder. As they turned in at the lane, George noticed Sun carrying a log into the mill. “Now that fella could be a smith,” George said as he saw her heft the heavy wood.

“Except that isn’t a fella,” Gray said with a smile as Sun turned and waved at the approaching wagon. “But she is the person you will teach smithery to.”

“What did you do, Grey?” Sun said as they met. “They are beautiful. Names! Now!”

“Pierre and Madame up front with Red and Stone in the back,” Grey said.

The girl put her arms around Pierre’s neck, something she could do without reaching up the way Grey had to. The horse seemed to instantly bond with her. “He is big enough for me to ride,” she said.

“And a lot more,” Grey said. “This is George Henson. He is a smith and I’m hoping he will be able to teach us to look after these beasts. I want to be able to use them to haul logs from the grove and bush. We won’t have to chop logs up to fit on the pickups.”

“I am honored to meet you, Mr. Henson,” Sun said, shaking the old man’s hands.

“Oh, she has the grip of a smith,” he said. “She will do quite well.”

Sun and Grey unhitched the team under George’s tutelage, and brought the horses into the stable, much to the dismay of Dary, who saw his chicks all run in fear for the hot box. George remembered the place immediately, and found a tap that fed water into the drinking troughs in each of the four stalls.

“They are scaring my chicks,” an indignant Dary called out.

“They will be fine, little shaver,” George said. “Give them an hour or two and they’ll be back out for their food and water. The horses are just something new for them to get used to.”

Sun then picked the boy up and set him on the back of Stone, the smallest horse. “Do you think you would like to learn to ride? I know I would,” she said, holding him up.

“No. Maybe. Yes. But they are so big. Don’t let go. Do you have any smaller ones?”

“That is the package. We have one stall left, so we could get a pony, but not as cheaply as these fellows,” Grey said.

He then took the old man into the rooms at the back. There was no bed in it, but there were now lots of those in the house that could be moved out, Grey told him.

“I got my little cooker at the other shed,” George said. “I can move it over next trip.”

“Well, we’ll see about that,” Sun said, after respecting Dary’s demand to be let down. “I suspect that Daisy will insist on you eating with us.”

“Me, eating with the family? I couldn’t,” George said.

“Don’t you understand?” Sun said, hugging the man firmly. “You are part of the family over here.”

They walked over to the house. Daisy and Lois had been sitting on the porch on the new bench that Grey had made, and Sun had upholstered with bearskins. They stood and walked to the rail as Grey explained the situation.

“Miss Ridgemark, you are as pretty as ever,” George said sincerely. She giggled at the compliment.

“I remember you fondly,” Daisy said to George. “I would love to rent you the stable rooms under the deal you made with Grey. I only have two stipulations. One is that you eat your meals in here with the family. The other is that you call me Daisy. That Miss Ridgemark stuff grates my nerves.”

Next was a trip into town in Sun’s pickup. First, they went to the feed mill and bought grain for the new teams, then Grey took George to the farm store where Dan had bought the chicks. They purchased three pairs of overalls, and a half dozen plaid shirt for George, who insisted on paying for them himself. He said he would buy new shoes and work boots with his next check.

On the way back, they stopped at the local farm where they had bought old tools in the past, and bought four bales of hay, and four straw bales, which made a full load on the small pickup. George knew the old farmer, and negotiated him down from his outrageous ‘city slicker’ prices to a fair farm price.

Back at the farm the truck was unloaded, with Grey struggling to carry a single bale of straw while Sun carried a bale of the heavier hay in either hand. Soon the horses were munching away.

It was too late for another trip to the dairy farm, so they just brought over a bed from the house, and some blankets for George. Then they led him to the house, where he showered and put on new clothes for supper.

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For those not familiar with farm life, there is a big difference between straw and hay. Straw is the stalks after grain has been removed from the heads. Hay is full grass (often alfalfa) that is raised as a crop to feed livestock. Straw has little nutritional value, and is generally used for bedding for animals, and to help clear away waste. Hay is much more expensive than straw.