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The Shopkeeper's Son
I.2.012

Carl's elder sister Ruth became engaged to a boy called Iram, the youngest son of farmer Willard. Iram was twenty-two and Ruth was sixteen and both families were very happy with the arrangement.

Following the announcement both families met formally at the Relyt's house to arrange the wedding date. They sat together on wooden benches: old Willard with Becky, the Shopkeeper with the farmer's wife and the betrothed couple separate, sharing intimate secrets yet still a part of the adult group. The Shopkeeper's younger sons, eleven years old Sam and Jeffrey, eight and the Willard's youngest daughter, also named Ruth, who was nine, played about them, observing their elders. They made a jovial group and, in the sunlight of a late spring afternoon, nothing was too good for them.

'April Fourteenth, next year.' The Shopkeeper chose the day. It was a long way off but an auspicious day.

'The day before Renewal, to bring good luck upon us all,' agreed the farmer's wife, a powerful, earthy woman.

'Things couldn't have turned out better if we'd fixed them up ourselves!' Willard slapped his knee enthusiastically.

The primary business was concluded. Because the meeting was formal the things they said were rather forced despite the fact they were old friends. All four parents felt they had a hand in arranging the marriage though they did not. Ruth was an independent girl and arranged unions were not the custom in Dentonsville.

'More to drink anybody? A sandwich? " The Shopkeeper's questions produced polite responses and more enthusiastic ones from the children. 'Carl?'

Carl was there too, conspicuous by his sullen demeanor and embarrassed by the implication of the gathering. He was fond of his sister and thought the gauche, under- educated Iram to be unsuitable for her. There was a wariness between Iram and Carl. The former wished to be friendly; the latter to despise. Carl replied to his father's question with the merest shake of his head. In the absence of company this would have been cause for trouble but instead the Shopkeeper returned to his seat with a sigh.

'How's the boy doing?' said Willard, taking note of the incident. 'How's he learning the trade?'

'He works well.' The Shopkeeper acknowledged the impossible with a slight laugh and a glance at Becky. 'He's keen and clever. It's when he's not working he's a trouble.'

'It's the age,' said the farmer's wife knowingly. They're like that. They get over it in their own good time. And the eldest boy is always the worst.'

'Well you should know, dear,' said Becky cheerfully. Iram was the fourth of the Willard's boys.

'I know...' began the farmer's wife but she was interrupted by her husband who, having something on his mind did not wish the conversation to be diverted.

'They've mentioned something about a dress,' he said nervously. 'That is, Ruth...'

There was a quickening of tension in the company. All were aware of the subject of the wedding dress. An expensive proposition where land is limited and cotton hard to come by.

'It would be very nice', said Becky.

'I remember my ma telling me that my grandma was married in a white dress,' said the farmer's wife.

The Shopkeeper frowned. He knew his daughter wished dearly for a dress. He said sadly, 'They had more to spare in those days. Martha Wilson told me...'

'Carl!' Becky interrupted him sharply with a look: Don't speak of the past! Especially before the children!

'Ruth should have a dress,' said Willard with great conviction. 'A white dress of new cotton.'

'It's very expensive,' said the Shopkeeper, 'and the risk... Suppose they decide not to get married after all?'

'Oh, father!' Ruth knelt by his side. 'We won't. Of course we won't!'

'Times are getting better,' said Willard. 'The hard times are at an end.'

And it was true that times had improved for the Shopkeeper and his family. Many winters had been mild since those last hard winters around the time of his first son's birth when the hard freeze lasted into April. Old wounds had begun to heal. The land was prospering and the community was feeling grateful for its own. The dress would be an article of faith.

'I'll plant the field myself Shopkeeper, if you'll support me and arrange for the making of the dress,' said Willard.

Who could deny the changing of the world? Who in their very bones could not feel its rest? The Shopkeeper was happy on that afternoon. 'My hand on it.' he said.


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