Chapter 8

Creighton and Paul returned to the table and Paul sat next to me.

“Paul was it necessary to hit that large boy?” I asked him.

“Mother, he tripped me on purpose. He’s given me problems at school on a few occasions.”

“Mrs. O’Dell, Robert is a misguided boy,” Creighton interjected. “His father beats him, and he passes it on to those around him. No excuse, by the by, but it is the case.”

“Creighton, I appreciate your input, but my son does not need to learn to solve problems with violence.”

“Mother?” Pauli sounded surprised. “Did those words just come out of your mouth? After the stories you’ve told us of our father and uncles. Granted they may have wanted a different method, but it didn’t work out that way in the end.”

“Children, please accept that while violence is sometimes the ultimate solution, other methods are the more preferred route first. Now, it seems like things have calmed down. Creighton why don’t you and Pauli go and dance. Paul, there is a little red-headed girl over there that has been staring at you. Maybe you should ask her to dance.”

“That’s Patty, mother. She is so annoying. She is always smiling at me and talking to me. I think she wants to be friends with me.” He sounded almost despondent when he said ‘friends’.

“Oh my! I can see how that might be annoying to a young man of eleven, but I think that you might find it to be more enjoyable when you are a bit older. I think you should at least ask her, as a friend.”

“All right, mother,” he agreed, with the tone of voice only an eleven year old boy sentenced to dance with a girl could speak.

Paul walked slowly around the floor, the little red-headed girl tracking him as he walked. Her expression brightened as he turned towards her. There was a gaggle of giggles from her friends. How novel, a boy asking a girl to dance. Paul had learned his lessons well and it turned out that the young girl was a good dance partner for my eleven year old son.

After two dances, the last one a slow dance, Paul led the girl over to our table.

“Mother, this is Patty Pindar,” he sounded exhausted. “Patty, this is my mother Opal Anne O’Dell.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mrs. O’Dell,” she said with a curtsy.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Pindar. May I say that you dance very well for such a young lady.”

“Thank you, ma’am. May I say that you’ve done a marvelous job of teaching Paul to dance.”

“How old are you, my dear?”

“I’m eleven.”

“Are your parents here?”

“No ma’am. My mother has passed, and my father is one of the men caring for the stable tonight.”

“Mother, would it be all right for Patty to sit with us?” Paul really tried very hard to not sound overly eager.

“Miss Pindar, if your other friends don’t mind losing your company, I would enjoy some additional company.”

“Thank you, ma’am. May I sit next to Paul?” she asked with a note of hope in her voice.

I looked at my blushing son and nodded to the young girl. The two had no sooner taken seats when Creighton and Pauli returned to the table.

“I can take care of myself, Creighton!”

“But you shouldn’t have to if I am around. I care for you, Pauline.”

“My friends call me Pauli!”

“Children? What seems to be the problem?” I tried to interrupt before another fight broke out.

“Mother, I was trying to explain to Creighton that I appreciated him protecting Paul, but we O’Dells can take care of ourselves.”

“And I was trying to tell her that I care for her and that I would always try to protect her from ruffians like Robert Simmons.”

“Pauli, You need to accept that you have an admirer and a protector. Creighton, you need to accept that we O’Dells are used to taking care of ourselves,” I explained before looking at my daughter, “and we are often hard-headed and too stubborn for our own good.”

“Mother!” Pauli said, sounding exasperated.

“Daughter!” I said returning Pauli’s open eyed expression of exasperation. “You wanted to come this dance with this young man. Are you now telling me that you don’t care for the sort of young man that he is?”

“No ... no ... of course not,” Pauli said suddenly aware that she might chase off her young man.

“Then understand that men have a natural tendency to want to protect what they love. Take it as a gift and live with it.”

“Love?” Creighton asked.

“Love?” Pauli repeated.

“Love! Both of you. I knew it as soon as I opened the door and saw his face. Now he seems to think that you, Pauli, are worthy of defending. Creighton, you have my permission to see Pauli after the dance.”

“Thank you, Mrs. O’Dell. Pauline, now you can help me with school without hiding.”

“I would do that anyway, Creighton.”

I sat at the table watching my children dance, and develop budding relationships, with their potential partners. I also kept an eye on Michelle. She just stayed with her friends and talked the night away. No boys asked any of them to dance and they didn’t seem interested anyway. At the end of the night, Michelle’s group of girls all hugged each other and then Michelle joined us at the table.

“Is everyone ready to go?”

“Yes, mother. Can we wait a little?” Paul asked quietly. “Patty’s father has to work until the last horses are out of the stable and she asked for you to meet him.”

“I don’t see any problem with being the last buggy to leave.”

“Creighton, can you wait with us?” Pauli asked.

“Yes, Pauline.” Creighton took Pauli’s hand and just held it as we waited for people to leave.

I smiled a little and then noticed that Paul and Patty were holding hands. Finally the only people left in the school hall were Mr. Bates, his wife, and one other chaperon. The chaperon was a tall older man. He carried himself with a lot of self-confidence and was soft-spoken. I stood, along with my children and their friends, when the trio approached, and addressed Mr. Bates.

“Mr. Bates, overall a very nice evening.”

“Yes, Mrs. O’Dell it was. Except for that slight disturbance involving your family and the Simmons boy.”

“Even then it was a minor occurrence.”

“Mrs. O’Dell, this is my wife Eleanor, and this is Mr. Harvey Lepus. He used to be the principal here and before that was a teacher of mathematics.”

“Mrs. Bates, it is a pleasure to meet you,” I said gently shaking her offered hand.

“And you,” the principal’s wife said politely.

“Mr. Lepus, it is a pleasure as well.”

“Your servant, Mrs. O’Dell.”

“We were waiting to be the last, since Miss Pindar’s father is tending horses in the stable tonight. She and my Paul have become friends this evening.”

Paul blushed almost as much as Patty. We all walked out the door and towards the stable. As we approached, a man came out of the barn, driving our buggy. He stopped at the end of the fence in front of the school hall.

“Since there are only a few animals remaining, I assume that this buggy is yours,” he said in a deep, soft voice.

“It is. You must be Miss Pindar’s father.”

“Charles Pindar, ma’am, and you must be the famous O’Dell clan.”

“Clan? That is a term I have not heard referenced to us in many years. I am Mrs. Opal Anne O’Dell. This my daughter, Pauline, my son, Paul, and my niece, Michelle.”

“A pleasure to meet all of you, although my Patty has mentioned Master Paul more than a few times.”

Patty now blushed almost as much as Paul.

“If our buggy is all ready, I think we should be heading home.”

“It is ready. The horses have been fed and watered. Yours as well Master Miller.”

“Thank you, Mr. Pindar.”

“Not at all. It is always a pleasure to help out with a school function.”

Charles Pindar offered his hand to me, helping me into the buggy. I needed no help, but an offer from a gentleman was not to be politely refused. My children bid good night to their friends and then Michelle and Pauli got into the back of the buggy and Paul took the front seat with me. We began our drive home, with Creighton riding alongside next to Pauli’s side of the buggy.

We hadn’t covered more than a half mile when several hooded figures jumped out of the dark and stopped us. Two of the figures, carrying torches, took hold of the horses reins, while another grabbed Paul and dragged him off of the front seat of the buggy. Creighton quickly rode around to the front of the buggy and that was when the other two figures pulled out guns. One aiming at Creighton, the other just standing with the gun pointed slightly to the ground.

“Stay where you are Creighton Miller and you won’t get hurt,” the man who dragged Paul out of the buggy, and was the apparent leader, demanded. “Now, Michelle O’Dell, get out of the buggy.”

“Mother?” Michelle said, fear in her voice.

“Do as the ruffian says Michelle. Everything will be all right,” I said calmly.

“That’s right, Michelle,” the leader said. “Once I’ve had my way with you, everything will be all right.”

The leader of the men stood still as Michelle approached him and he slapped her across the face, knocking her to the ground.

“NO!” Paul screamed, swinging his left fist at the man holding him. Being much shorter than the man, Paul’s blow struck him high on his stomach, just below the ribs, and knocked the wind out of him. The masked figure quickly sank to his knees and then fell over on his side.

That was when Creighton spoke up loudly.

“Robert Simmons, I know your voice. What do you think you’re doing?”

“This little bitch slapped me. I’m going to pay her back.”

The horses reacted to the sudden violence by rearing their heads and pushing away the two boys holding their reins. I pulled back on the reins, jerking them out of the boys hands and, gaining control, I calmed them. While that was going on, and while Creighton was speaking, Paul commenced to kick the boy on the ground in the head several times. One of the boys, as I now knew them to be the boys from the dance, began to raise his pistol to aim at Paul.