Short Story : About Emma Fay

There I sat in my wrinkled dress, with my tangled red hair, and dirty face, and watched my family from a distance. I then told myself, “I feel like I am useless. All I do all day is watch. I am bored sitting here. All of the other girls my age are working with their families. Why can’t I help?”

In the back of my mind I could hear my father saying, “But you’re a great help. Emma, you’re my lookout. You’re still too small to help in the fields and I need you to watch out for the rain.” He told me this as we were eating our simple breakfast of burnt biscuits and bacon. I made gravy, too, but it turn out bad. I was old enough to know that there was nothing out there that could hurt us. Who would be crazy enough to take on my father and six brothers?  “They just want me out of the way. I don’t do much of anything right.”

The cool wind blew on my face. I looked up from my self-pity to make sure there were no clouds in the sky. Then to the left of me I thought I saw something orange. It disappeared into the woods closest to the wagon before I had a chance to see it clear enough to tell what it was. I looked around to see if any of my family was watching, and slipped down from the creaky wagon when I was sure no one was paying me any attention. “I better go see what the orange object is in the woods so I can tell father.” This is what I said to convince myself that going in was the right thing to do.

I leaned against the wagon and peered around it to make sure everyone was too busy to notice that I’d be gone. Then after double checking, I sprinted the distance between the wagon and where the object entered, but I tripped on a small log just as I entered the woods. I quickly stood up and peaked out to make sure I wasn’t noticed. Relief came when I saw that they hadn’t heard me fall, but it quickly disappeared when I saw the condition of my dress. “Now I have more laundry to do and father will know I left. Why do I have to be so clumsy?”

I began to brush off my dress when I caught sight of the orange object. It was a furry cat. It was the biggest cat I had ever seen. Its shiny coat was almost the color of the orange I had a few years ago. It has been a long time since I had something as delicious as an orange. I could barely remember the wonderful taste and sweet smell I experienced when I ate my half of the fruit. I followed the cat to the creek where the cat gracefully leaped onto a large fallen tree that came across the still waters. I once remembered my father say that it was a cottonwood just like most of the trees in the area.

“Come here, kitty.” I called the cat, but it didn’t move. I continued to call, but the cat didn’t even notice me. Its stubbornness reminded me of the mule my father used to have. It seemed like it took forever to get the mule to do anything. Finally my father sold it for another dairy cow. Yet again I was reminded of another job I couldn’t do. “I can do this. It’s just a log.” I reached up and managed to climb up to the top of the fallen cottonwood. I sat down to survey my surroundings. That is when I realized I wasn’t alone with the cat.

“Hello, little girl,” a man voice half whispered. Startled I turned around to see a tall man just a few yards away. He looked to be about the age of my eldest brother who was thirteen years older than me. “I see you’ve found my cat.” The man grinned as he took off his hat which revealed his unruly dark hair.

“It’s your cat? Why is he all the way out here, sir?”

“He wanders just like all tomcats.” He said with a smile that showed he was missing a tooth.

“Why would you keep a cat that didn’t come when you call, sir?”

“He’s deaf. He's been deaf since I found him as a kitten” He waved his hand and the cat obediently walked to his owner. “He only comes when you wave at him. Want'ta try, girl?”

“Yes, I sure would, sir.” I waved my hand at the man’s cat and the cat quickly climbed up beside me. “What’s his name, sir?” I asked as I slowly petted the animal.

“It doesn’t have a name. Remember, it’s deaf. No need for one. What’s yours?” He asked as he ambled toward me.

“Sir, I’m not sure I should tell you my name.”

“Why shouldn’t you? I let you pet my cat.”

“I don’t know who you are, sir.” This is when I realized that I was all alone with a man I had never met before. My heart started to speed up as I looked for a way to flee. My father warned me not to talk to people I didn’t know, and I was doing just that. Why couldn’t I do anything right.

“Calm down, girl, I’m not going to hurt you. The name is William Keller. I have been livin' is this area for awhile now.” He held out his rough hand and waited for me to take it which I hesitantly did. “Now, quit calling me ‘sir’. You're makin' me feel old.”

“But that's what my father taught me to say, sir.” I looked at him amazed that he would ever suggest not saying the title of respect.

“Alright, call me ‘sir’ if you want to. No big deal. Now, can I know your name?” Mr. Keller stood there and stared at me.

“I guess, I could, sir.” I paused looking around to make sure no one else was around. “I’m Miss Emma Fay. I’m named after my father’s mother.” He nodded, shook my hand, and I pulled away after a moment.

“What's your age, Miss Emma?”

“You should call me, Miss Fay.” He rolled his eyes at me like I was playing a game with him, but my father always said it was not right any other way.

“Miss Fay, what's your age?”

I wasn’t sure if I should tell him, because I knew he wouldn’t believe me. I answered him after a few moments. “I’m almost ten.” The look of disbelief covered his face as I had predicted.

“You tellin' me to truth, Miss Fay?” He said as he rubbed the back of his neck and scratching the ground like one of my father’s chickens would do for food.

“Of course, I am telling the truth, Mr. Keller.” I turned my body around so I could slip down to the ground. “My birthday is in November.” I hopped down and looked in the direction of the field.

“How many people are helpin' over there?” He said as he sat down on the log.

“There are seven. My father is out there with my brothers.” I said as I slowly stepped back from the log.

“What guns do they carry?” At this I just stared at him. Why was he asking me this question? As I stared at him; he repeated the question a couple more times. I knew then that something was not right.

Just then I felt something on my forehead. It was rain. I panicked because my father surely would notice I was gone. I didn’t warn him of the rain. “I don’t know. I am sorry, Mr. Keller. I have to go.” I lied to him; of course I knew what firearms my family had, but that was none of Mr. Keller’s business. I turned to go, but then I felt a pair of hands grab me. I screamed as loud as I could and flung my arms violently. Soon I was able to hear my family coming our way. Mr. Keller said a lot of unrepeatable words and hauled me off in the direction opposite of the fields. He threw me over his shoulder; I continued to fight him to get away, and screamed for my family to come save me. Mr. Keller threatened my life a dozen times. All I could think of was being with my family again. It didn’t dawn on me that I wouldn’t see my family again if he killed me. All I wanted was to be safe at home.

Mr. Keller came to his horse after he ran for some distance. He somehow managed to get a rope, bind my hands together, throw me up across the horse and mount it himself before my family was able to reach us. He soon led the horse in a full gallop through the woods. I could not tell what was going on around me. My family’s voices faded more with every gallop. By this time we were in a downpour.

We came to a house after awhile. It was small and run down. It was hard to believe that anyone could live in such a beat up place. All there was inside was two unmade beds, a thin table with somewhat matching chairs, crude fireplace with a big black kettle suspended in it, and various sizes of objects spread out across the room to catch the rainwater.

“Do you live here?” I questioned him as I gazed at the room. I was still in shock from what just had happened. I wasn’t able to think straight. Thoughts that keep repeating in my head, “He was acting like a nice man. Why did he take me away from my family?”

“Yes, I live here, but only for a few more days.” He answered as though he was a little bit offended by my question. He shook his head and turned away from me. After the rain let up a bit he untied my hands and said, “There're dry clothes on the bed. Put them on while I am out takin' care of the horse.  Make sure you warm up by the fire. Last thing I need is for you to become ill. You’re worthless dead. Don't run away. I’ll shoot you.”

I looked at the clothes and was shocked to find a pair of overalls, and a boy’s shirt piled on the bed. In disgust I called out after him, “But I don’t wear boy’s clothes.”

He returned to the door and looked intensely at me. “You’ll wear 'em. The clothes you have on now are soakin' wet.” I looked down and realized that my clothes were indeed drenched. The fact must have been blocked from me. I peered out of the shabby window above the bed to make sure that Mr. Keller wasn’t looking, and I reluctantly pulled off my clothes. The last thing in the world I wanted to do was to wear boy’s clothes. I looked down and noticed my stomach had been bruised badly from the rough ride. “You better be changed by the time I get back.” His voice caught me off guard and I covered my body with a wet dress. After seeing that he wasn’t in sight I quickly pulled on the distasteful clothes that I was assigned to wear. “You dressed?” I jumped again at the sound of his voice and I quickly sat on a chair by the fire place.

“Yes, I’m dressed, Mr. Keller.” He entered to room, stopped, and stood there looking at me.

“You’d be more like a boy if it wasn’t for your hair.”

My eyes widened at his comment. “Please, don’t cut my hair. I’m not a boy.”

“Don’t worry. I not cuttin' your hair.” Mr. Keller walked over to at bag near the other bed and picked up a small brush. “I’m goin' to brush it.” I dreaded the thought of him combing my hair. My brothers always hurt me as they raked the brush through my hair. I really did not want him touching me, but I had no choice. He motioned me to kneel in front of him with my back towards him. I jumped the first few times the brush touched my head. I was surprised that it didn’t hurt when Mr. Keller brushed my hair.

“Now on your name isn’t Emma.” I turned and looked at him in disbelief. “listen.” He then moved my head to face forward again. “It's goin' be Walter. You’re goin' to act like you’re my little brother when we go into town to the post office. Remember, I’ll shoot you if I have to and you not aloud to talk. What town do your family usually go to?”

"Once and a while we go to Mason."

"Can't go there." he mumbled to himself. I looked at him again but he made me turn back around. When Mr. Keller was done with brushing my hair, he took out a clothespin from his pocket, and pinned my hair to the top of my head.

“Why did you do that?” I asked as he walked to the other side of the room. His only reply to me was to hush me. Mr. Keller walked outside and then moments later came back in. “Did you lose something?” I was met with another hush.

“There it is.” Mr. Keller whispered as he picked up dusty bowler hat from the far corner of the room. He knocked off some of dust, but it didn’t change the hat’s appearance. He tossed the hat lightly to me. I, of course, didn’t catch it and had to quickly chase it down. “Put it on.” The urge to protest faded when he gave me a look that warned me not open my mouth. I unwillingly placed the hat on my head, and it sunk down on my head past my ears. He motioned for me to turn around and I obeyed. “That'll do. You're not to take off this hat.” I nodded and sat down on the bed that was next to the window. “I don’t want to hear about going home either.” When he mentioned home, tears started to swell up in my eyes. I quickly hid under a smelly blanket because I didn’t want him to see my tears. Then I could hear Mr. Keller walk back to the bed, made the bed creek under his weight. Usually my brothers take turns reading to me before bed. I loved reading and listening to my brothers read to me. That night I was too tired to really care if I was read to or not and soon drifted off to sleep.

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I shot up from the bed as I heard riders coming toward the house. Then I heard a familiar voice call out. “I want my daughter. You’re out numbered six to one.”

Mr. Keller was leaning against to white washed wall. He didn’t reply; instead he stood there with his rifle waiting. I pushed myself to the wall and peered out of the window. “Down.” Mr. Keller whispered, but this wasn’t before my father saw me.

I could tell that it was raining again because I could hear the water drip into nearby buckets. “Don’t worry, Emma. We have come to take you home.” My father said not far from the house. I stood up so I could see him. Mr. Keller flung open the door off its hinges, and aimed his rifle towards my father. I quickly looked at my father and then to Mr. Keller. He was going to shoot him. My small fists tightened. I did the first thing that came to mind. I ran towards him and jumped off the bed onto Mr. Keller just moments before he pulled the trigger. The bullet missed my father and shattered a nearby tree. I held onto him with my left hand and with the right I pounded him like anyone my size could. My family was soon there to pen him up against the wall by the time he was able to get me off him. “Now all we have to do is get you to town to the sheriff. I have sent my youngest ahead of us so there should be a welcoming party for you." My father handed one of my brothers a rope.

My father ran to me and hugged me. “You were brave, Emma. I am amazed that you had that much strength inside you. Did he hurt you?”

“No, father, I’m a little sore from a rough ride.”

“Good, let’s get this guy where he belongs, boys.”

"Yes, sir."My brothers then lifted Mr. Keller up, hauled him over to his horse and flung him over it on his belly.

I hugged my father as tight as I could and was relieved to be safe again. "Look at you. He made you as a boy." Her said he took the dingy hat off my head. "Let's get you home and in clean clothes. I want my daughter back. I only have one. I love you, Emma."

"I love you, too." I looked into my fathers blue eyes and asked, “How did you find me, father?”

“It was actually pretty easy.” He said as he placed me on one of our horses. “We followed his cat. It was the only thing we had to go by with all the rain washing his tracks away”

"I like that cat. Can we keep him."

"What would you do with a cat?"

"Love him. He did lead you to me."

"I guess you can keep him."

"When we get home, I'll make us all something good to eat."