Shades of Gray (17 page)

“It—it was just something we had to settle,” Will said uncomfortably.

Meg thought a minute. Then she asked quietly, “Was it something about Pa and the war?”

Will shook his head. He wished Meg didn't ask so many questions.

“Are you sure?” she persisted.

“Well, Hank did try to make something out of your pa putting up that Yankee soldier,” Will said, remembering. “But I set him straight about that.”

“Set him straight? What do you mean?”

“I told him your pa had been against the war, not for the Union.”

“Well! And when did you finally figure that out?”

Her question made Will stop short. When
had
he realized why Uncle Jed had refused to fight? “At first I thought your pa was for the Union,” he admitted, remembering with shame how he'd regarded his uncle as a traitor.

“And then you thought he was a coward!” Meg's voice was hard.

“I—I didn't think that very long,” he protested.

“Well, you had no right to think it at all!”

Will didn't know what to say. “I'm sorry, Meg,” he muttered. “I guess I just didn't understand at first.”

“And you understand now?”

Will nodded.

“Tell me, then,” Meg demanded.

Will took a deep breath. “I understand that your pa didn't fight in the war because he thought the war was wrong.”

“And what else?” Meg persisted.

“What else?” Will echoed dumbly.

Meg made an impatient gesture. “Don't you understand that it took a lot of courage for Pa
not
to go to war when all the other men did?”

Slowly, he nodded, realizing that what she said was true.

“Say it, then!”

Will took a deep breath and said, “I understand that it took a lot of courage for your pa not to go to war.”

Meg nodded with satisfaction. “Ma said you'd come to your senses by and by.”

Will pulled out his handkerchief and mopped his face while he watched her run back to the house. Uncle Jed came out of the barn and said, “You look like you've got a bellyache.”

Will smiled ruefully. “That's probably 'cause I've had to swallow my pride so many times today.”

“Are you ready?” Meg demanded, running to meet Will as he crossed the pasture on his way back from checking the trap line.

He nodded, reaching into his pocket. “Here, I wrote out the alphabet for you, capital letters on one side and small ones on the other.” He handed her a square he'd cut from the
brown paper Mr. Riley had wrapped the dress goods in the day before. “The first thing you have to do is learn the alphabet.”

She looked at the paper, frowned, and turned it over. “I've seen some of these,” she said, indicating the capitals. “I'll show you which ones.”

Will watched while she slowly ran her finger along under his carefully printed letters, pointing in turn to B, C, D, E, H, I, K, L, M, O, and Y.

“I saw them on your books,” she explained.

Of course! Will thought.
HOLY BIBLE
and
MOBY DICK
. Deciding to put aside his carefully planned lesson on the alphabet, he said, “Come on inside. I'll get the books and my slate from upstairs and we'll work at the table.”

A moment later, he set the Bible in front of his cousin and pointed to the gold letters on the cover. “What does this say?” he asked.

“ ‘Family Bible,' ” she answered.

“ ‘
Holy
Bible,' ” he corrected, pointing to each word as he said it. “And what about this one?”

“That's
Moby Dick
,” she answered without hesitation. Pointing to each word in turn, she said again, “
Moby Dick
. Can you read it to us again tonight?”

Will nodded. Then, pointing at the first letter he said, “This is
M
. It says ‘Mmm,' like in—”

“Like in
Meg
!”

“Right,” said Will. “Like in ‘Meg' and ‘Ma' and ‘me' and—”

“Oh, Will, can you teach me to write my name?” Meg pleaded.

Will frowned. How was he going to teach Meg to read if she insisted on skipping from one thing to another like this? Maybe he should have followed his original plan.

“Please, Will?” Her eyes shone with eagerness.

Will thought of the row of little boys endlessly droning their ABC's in front of the stern pastor who had taught their classes back in Winchester. He didn't want Meg to lose her enthusiasm. “All right. I'll teach you to write your name, and mine, and your ma's and pa's, and you can learn the letters and their sounds at the same time.”

He wrote her name in large, clear letters. “M—E—G, Meg. You can practice this now,” he said, handing her the slate. “While we're working in the garden later on, I'll help you learn to say the alphabet. Once you know it perfectly, you can study the paper I wrote for you and learn how each letter looks.”

“I'll study every evening, Will,” Meg promised, clutching the slate tightly. “You'll be surprised how fast I learn to read.”

“Well, we have more than five weeks till school starts,” said Will, trying not to think of all the things he wanted to do before he left for Winchester.

At noon Will watched the butter melt and soak into his third piece of corn bread while he forked up the last of his turnip greens. He was the only one still eating.

Uncle Jed leaned back in his chair and announced, “Well, I've decided to keep the money Jim Woodley sent. The way I figure it, we did what we could for him when he needed help, and now he's doing what he can to help us. I don't look on keeping that money as accepting charity,” he said, glancing
around the table. “I look on it as accepting a gift made in friendship.”

“I think you're doing the right thing, Uncle Jed.”

Three pairs of eyes stared at Will in stunned silence. Then Meg turned to her father and said in a hushed voice, “Did you hear that, Pa? He called you
Uncle Jed
!”

Will turned beet red. He hadn't realized Aunt Ella and Meg had noticed that he never called his uncle by name. “Well, he
is
my uncle, isn't he? What else would I call him?” he asked crossly, trying to cover up his embarrassment.

“I'll bet you called me plenty of names inside your own head over the past couple months,” said Uncle Jed.

Will took a deep breath. “I was wrong,” he said. “I was wrong, and I'm sorry.”

Before Will knew what was happening, Aunt Ella was hugging him. And Meg was smiling through her tears. Uncle Jed pushed back his chair. “I'm going out to the barn,” he said. “Come on out when you get a chance, son.”

Had Uncle Jed meant to call him “son”? Will wondered as he crossed the yard. He knew Doc Martin had meant it when he wrote, “I'd be proud to raise you as my son,” because with a letter, you could work on it till it said exactly what you meant.

Inside the barn Uncle Jed looked up from cleaning a bridle. “Thought I'd better see how this leather's holding up if we're going to get a horse,” he said. “I'll find out when the next livestock auction is, and we'll go in to the county seat to pick us out that horse and cow.”

They checked over the wagon and the harness and then left the barn together. “Well, once we put some bedding into those
stalls, this place is ready for critters,” said Uncle Jed.

Will thought of how his uncle had repaired the barn roof and of the weeks and weeks they'd worked together to replace the rotting posts of the pasture fence. “You must have been pretty sure you were going to have livestock again soon,” he said.

“If you have enough patience, things usually work out. Sometimes it takes a lot of patience, though,” Uncle Jed said, looking slyly at Will.

Will was quiet for a moment, thinking about Hank. “Sometimes things work out even when you thought they never could,” he said at last.

“That's true. But you have an easier life if you can believe that things will turn out all right. It sure beats dreading that they won't.” Then, resting his hand easily on Will's shoulder, Uncle Jed said, “Well, son, we're going to be right busy around here once we've got stock again. And with a horse to pull the plow and money for seed, we'll have more acreage in crops next year, so the two of us will have to work pretty hard. Why don't you take the rest of the afternoon to do as you please with? It might be the last free time you have for a while—there's a lot to be done before school starts!”

“Thanks, Uncle Jed.” Will stood for a moment, his uncle's words echoing in his ears. And then in his mind's eye, he saw in Doc's flowing writing the words “I'd be proud to raise you as my son.” Slowly, Will turned toward the house. He couldn't put it off any longer. He had to answer Doc's letter.

Inside, Will glanced around the now-familiar front room, remembering how small and poor it had seemed the day he arrived. But now it felt comfortable. Homey. He climbed the
stairs to his room. It was hot in the attic, but no one would disturb him there, and he wanted to be alone while he answered Doc Martin's letter. There was someone else he had to write to first, though.

That letter took him longer than he thought it would, and by the time he'd revised it and copied it over, supper was ready. He quickly signed the letter and carefully tore it out of his copybook. Folding the paper in half, he tucked it into his shirt pocket and went downstairs.

“Is that another letter you've got there?” Meg asked as they sat down at the table.

Will nodded. “It's one I wrote to Jim.”

“To Jim Woodley?” she asked in disbelief. “You wrote to Jim Woodley?”

“Now, Meg,” said Aunt Ella, “Will doesn't owe us any explanation if he wants to write a letter.”

Embarrassed, Meg mumbled, “I didn't mean to pry.”

“That's all right, Meg. Here, I'll read it to you,” Will said, pulling it out of his pocket. He cleared his throat and began:

“Dear Jim,

We were all glad to hear that you got home all right. I'm sorry I wasn't there to say good-bye when you left and to thank you for the book. I'm reading it aloud to the whole family.

Soon, Uncle Jed and I will go to the livestock auction at the county seat to buy our horse and cow. We all appreciate your generous gift.

After my father and brother were killed, I hated all Yankees, but now I understand that there were good men
fighting on both sides—and that some good men didn't fight. I also understand now that people have to decide for themselves what is right and then stand up for what they believe in.

I hope you are well. Everyone here sends their good wishes.

Yours,

Will Page”

Self-consciously, he folded the letter and put it back in his pocket.

“That's a fine letter, Will,” said Aunt Ella, laying her hand on his arm.

“I'm proud of you, son. That can't have been an easy letter for you to write,” said Uncle Jed.

“It sure wasn't! Took me the whole afternoon. And I still have to answer that letter Doc Martin wrote me last month.”

Meg looked at him reproachfully. “You never did tell me what his letter said. Besides the part about Lizzy and Doc's sister, that is. I think it's mean of you not to tell us!”

Will took a deep breath and said, “All right, then. I'll tell you. Doc Martin said that if I want to, I can come and live with him and his sister. He said it was up to me, but he was sure my mother would have understood if I'd rather live in Winchester instead of here in the country.”

Meg gasped, and out of the corner of his eye Will saw Aunt Ella rest a quieting hand on her arm. Uncle Jed cleared his throat, but before he could speak, Will rushed on.

“When I read the letter, I wanted to go back, but I didn't know how to tell you. Since Doc Martin said I should take
enough time to think it over carefully before I let him know, I figured there wasn't any reason to tell you right away. So I didn't.”

“We'll miss you, Will,” said Aunt Ella. Her eyes glistened with tears.

“But, Aunt Ella, I—I want to stay here.”

“You want to stay here?” Meg echoed in disbelief.

Will nodded. “If it's all right,” he said, his eyes meeting Uncle Jed's at last. “If you want me to.”

“Of course we want you to, Will,” his uncle said. “You're part of our family now.”

Will looked around the table. Aunt Ella's smile made her face glow, and Meg beamed at him. And then he met his uncle's approving gaze again.

“Mama was right to send me here,” he said with conviction. “This is where I belong.”

First Aladdin Paperbacks edition May 1999

Text copyright © 1989 by Carolyn Reeder

Aladdin Paperbacks

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Also available in a Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers edition.

The text for this book was set in 11 point Plantin

The Library of Congress has cataloged the hardcover editions as follows: