started. Having a shed would save time in hauling everything back and forth. We could come out a couple times a week after I get off work, get started on the foundations, work weekends. Nothing fancy, just a simple house; one big room to start, add the kitchen next and a bathroom. As soon as we move in, we can add on two more bedrooms.”
“You’re talking about an awful lot of work, Trip.”
“I know, but we’d be building something for ourselves. How else are we going to have our dream home in the country unless we do it?”
“It’s a long way from town and schools.”
“Only two miles, and there’s a school bus. I already checked about that. All Charlie has to do is walk to the end of the driveway. He’ll be picked up and dropped off every day.”
Mommy looked around again, frowning this time. “I don’t know, Trip.”
Daddy turned her to face him. “Breathe the air, Hildemara.” He slid his hands up and down her arms. “Aren’t you tired of living in a house closed in on all sides by other houses? and gossiping neighbors who avoid you like the plague? Wouldn’t you like our children to grow up the way you did? in the country with space around them? They’d be safe and free to roam out here. No more living in the shadow of a federal prison.”
Stepping away, Mommy bent down and picked up a handful of soil. She smelled it and crumbled the dirt in her hand, letting it sift through her fingers. “Smells good.” She brushed off her hands. “We could build a tent-house to start, use a Coleman stove, keep supplies in the trunk of the car, dig a hole, and build an outhouse.”
Daddy grinned. “Now you’re talking!”
“We could put an orchard of walnut trees up front, plant fruit trees, a few grapevines, and a vegetable garden over there. We could have chickens…”
Daddy pulled her into his arms and kissed her. When he drew back, Mommy’s face looked pink. Daddy smiled and took her hand. “Let’s figure out where to put the house.”
Carolyn watched them walk away. She wandered back to the walnut tree and watched her brother climb from one branch to another.
Mommy and Daddy called out. “Charlie! Carolyn! Come on, you two. Time to go home and have lunch.” Carolyn climbed into the backseat. Charlie sounded winded from his fast climb down and run to the car. Daddy started the car. “We’re going to build a house here, kids. What do you think about that?”
“We’re going to live out here?” Charlie sounded worried.
“Yes.”
“But what about my friends? If we move, I’ll never see them.”
“You’d see them in school.” Daddy turned onto the road. “And Happy Valley Road has plenty of kids. I saw one riding a bicycle and another one riding a horse.”
“A horse?” Charlie’s eyes brightened. “Can we get a horse?”
Daddy laughed and glanced at Mommy. “Maybe. But not right away.”
No one asked Carolyn what she thought about moving away from the only house she had ever known. Carolyn had no friends or playmates. Only one thing worried her. “Will Oma know how to find me?”
Mommy and Daddy exchanged a look. “Of course.” Daddy nodded. Mommy stared out the window.
Every Friday after work, Carolyn’s father drove the family out to “the property.” They went through Paxtown with its Old West buildings, through meadows, and over a hill with a cemetery. Happy Valley Road was the first left on the other side of the hill. Dad had set up a tent-house. Charlie would take off to climb the big walnut tree; Mom laid out sleeping bags on the platforms, set up the Coleman stove, and started dinner. Dad’s first project was to dig a deep hole and build an outhouse. Next, he built a shed for his tools and put a heavy padlock on the door.
Left on her own, Carolyn wandered with Bullet. When he scared a man’s sheep, Dad drove a steel stake deep into the ground and attached a chain to it. After that, Bullet could only walk in circles. He’d run until he wound himself tight, and Carolyn would walk him in circles the other way until he had more freedom.
Charlie knew everyone on the road within a few weeks. He took Carolyn over to meet their next-door neighbor. Lee Dockery had beehives behind his house. “Call me Dock.” He leaned down, smiling at her. “‘Hickory, dickory, dock, the mouse ran up the clock.’” His fingers walked from her stomach up her chest and tickled her under the chin. She giggled. He said she could come over anytime and gave them each a honeycomb dripping with sweetness.
Her father told her to stay out of the way. Her mother told her to try not to get so dirty. With Charlie gone most of the time, Carolyn had no one. She often went over to the barbed-wire fence and watched Dock work among his hives. Bees swarmed around him when he lifted wooden frames filled with honeycombs. “Don’t they sting you?” she called.
“Bees are my friends. I never take more than they’re willing to share.”
Dock invited her inside his house and let her spin honey from the combs. He let her dip her finger into the thick, rich, sweet-smelling mass dripping down a tube into glass jars. He called her “honeybee” and petted her head the same way she petted Bullet. Often, he lifted her onto his lap and talked about his wife who had died and how much they had wanted to have children and couldn’t. “You look sleepy.” He let her rest her head against his chest. He smelled of tobacco and sweat. He stroked her legs under her dress. “Your mother is calling for you.” Dock lifted her and set her on her feet. “You have to go home now, honeybee.” He kissed her on the mouth and looked so sad. “Come back real soon, and we’ll play some games together.”
Carolyn ducked under barbed wire stretched between fence posts and ran through the mustard flowers.
“Why didn’t you answer me?” Her mother shook her. “Where were you?”
“At Dock’s.”
“Dock?”
“Mr. Dockery, Mom.” Charlie answered for her. “The bee man. He gives us honeycombs.” He sat at the makeshift table where the family ate their meals. “He’s really nice.”
Frowning, her mother let go of her and straightened, looking toward the house next door. “Well, you leave Mr. Dockery alone. I’m sure he has work to do and doesn’t need you underfoot.”
Carolyn didn’t tell her that Dock liked her more than Daddy or Mommy. He said he wanted her to come back and play real soon.
4
All that summer, the family still lived in the rental house near the penitentiary during the week and spent weekends on their new property. Neither Daddy nor Mommy read stories or played games anymore. Her father read big books that came in the mail. He made notes and drawings on yellow legal pads. He rolled out white paper and used a ruler to make bigger drawings with numbers all over. Her mother had housework and laundry and the garden. Charlie had friends. Carolyn played alone. She always had the first bath while Charlie listened to a radio program. She was always first in bed, first with the lights out.
Curling on her side, the rag doll tucked tight against her, Carolyn remembered riding around with Oma in the gray Plymouth. She missed opening a package of Wonder bread and eating fresh slices on the way home from the grocery store. She missed having stories read to her and working puzzles on a board Oma kept under her bed. She missed helping in the kitchen and having tea parties in the afternoon. Most of all, she missed Oma’s hugs and kisses. Her mother didn’t hug or kiss anyone except Daddy.
Charlie went off with his friends every morning, and Mommy did chores inside the house. “Go on outside and play, Carolyn.” Carolyn made mud cookies alongside the house, baked them on a board, and pretended to feed her rag doll while Bullet sat beside her, head high, ears perked, panting. Anytime anyone came near the gate, he growled and barked. Sometimes he licked Carolyn’s face, but Mommy didn’t like him to kiss her. When he did, she always made Carolyn come in and wash with soap that got in her eyes and burned like fire.
She looked forward to Friday night, when Daddy drove them all to the property. Saturday, while her parents poured and smoothed concrete foundations and framed walls, Carolyn went over to Dock’s house. When she got
