Chapter 2: The Mysterious Boy in the Woods

Isabelle explains how she met Jeb, a mentally disabled boy, on the trails to Montana. A fuss is made when Isabelle brings up the near by Natives, and a mysterious animal visits the farm again.

Upon lifting the lid of cast iron pan, I found the stew bubbling, steaming with the most delectable smells, and I raised it off of its hook over the fire, and set it atop the table.  After a hard day’s work, nothing was of more delight than to enjoy a warm, flavorful meal, only knowing it wouldn’t last long, and tomorrow’s workday would soon arrive.  The savory smells of roast beef and potatoes filled the small room with a hearty aroma, and seemingly relaxed my tired body. Henry and Jeb had already had their kind hearts set the table, and I was always and forever thankful for their gracious help to me, despite Henry’s fatigued body after working the mines all day, and Jeb’s disadvantaged circumstance.

Jeb wasn’t ours, really. We had happened upon him along the trail out here to Montana, under some confusing circumstances to say the least. We had decided upon stopping for the night in a small clearing just off the trail, and had been setting up camp when we saw him, buzzing around the bushes and the trees, his arms up from his sides like the wings of a bird. Naturally, I had thought that we had stumbled upon another group of those pioneering west, camping out for the night near their resting point.  Henry and I had looked around past that of where we had stopped, but found no one in sight, not even a trail from another loaded wagon. In the neck of the woods we had halted in, we knew there to be no settlements here, at least none of which were documented.  It was a funny thing, it was, as we had been told by others we passed by that this part of the woods was known to be a long stretch from any sort of settlements, a long stretch for many travelers.  All in all, I knew there was something about him buzzing about the grasses and trees that didn’t quite add up to me, and something told me his folks weren’t nearby.  

He weaved in and out of the clearing in which we had stopped with a carefree look on his face, nothing to stop him or get in his way.  Once we knew that we were, indeed, alone in the woods, I approached him with a kind and gentle disposition, while Henry started setting up camp.

“Hello, there,” I called to him, and he stopped a few yards distance from me, slowly lowering his hands to his sides.

“Are your…are your parents around?”

I smiled, slowly walking towards him with my hands at my sides, careful not to cause him a fright.  He looked at me, a bit bewildered at first, then shook his head no, and continued buzzing about the grassy terrain. His short, brown hair and unkempt clothing looked as if it hadn’t been cleaned for quite some time, his face looking rather emaciated. From his short stature, I guessed he was no older than 10, too young to be wandering about alone, especially in this sect of the woods.

I looked at Henry, unsure of how to proceed. He ambled over to me, stretching his arm around my waist, and said,

“What’d he say? Did you ask if his folks were around?”

“I did, ask him about his parents. I asked if they were around, and he just shook his head no. Poor boy.”

Henry looked at me with a frown, thinking the same thing I had thought when the boy had answered. “Think he’s lost? Or…” He trailed off on a worried note.

“Or do you think his folks left him behind.” It was a question, but my tone suggested otherwise, for I had a bad feeling about this one on the inside.  The both of us looked around past the trees, making certain we didn’t spot any others, any other hope of the boy just being strayed away from his crowd, but saw nothing. 

“Maybe we should get him to come get some food. He’s looking a bit lacking,” Henry observed.

I nodded in approval, and made my way back over to where the boy was, this time sitting among the tall grasses, drawing something in the dirt.  Much to my surprise when I came up behind him, he just looked up and gave a simple smile to me, then continued in his drawing.

“Are you hungry?” I asked. “Have you eaten anything recently?” He looked up at me with his lighthearted eyes, and shook his head no again.

“Why don’t you come and get something to eat?” I said to him, smiling. “We can make you something, okay?” 

He didn’t look up again this time when I had questioned him, but kept his eyes fixated on his illustration in the dirt. I waited a few seconds, then bent down on my knees to get a better look at what he was scraping into the ground.  He stopped abruptly, and pointed at the ground, wanting my acknowledgement towards his effort.

“Bird,” he said, as he pointed at it. He levitated his arms again, just the way he had when we first encountered him, and moved them up and down at me. I looked down at his drawing, and it certainly did look like a bird, wings stretched out to the side, a big beak situated on its face.

“Bird,” he said again, with the biggest smile spread across his face, a smile of whole-hearted happiness, as he moved his arms around and began to buzz about the bushes again, staying close to wear I was standing.

I knew suddenly that he was a bit different, with his limited response, and his vocabulary lacking for his age. His outwardly carefree attitude about the woods, and his apparent separation from his folks made me realize that maybe he really wasn’t lost, but left behind.  Surely all passengers would be accounted for before heading off on the trail, particularly a child. And knowing children of his age, they surely would be concerned if left alone stranded. There was something different about him, and I knew he wasn’t bound to be like the rest of us.

When he had trotted his way back over to me, I slowly headed back to camp, where Henry already had a fire going, and was getting out the meat to be cooked. The boy followed, slow and unsure, and I assured him it was alright.

“Do you have a name?” I asked him, as we parted shrubs from our path on the way back to the rest area. He looked unsure of retorting, but after a few seconds he replied.

“Jeb.”

“Jeb,” I repeated. “ Well it’s nice to meet you, Jeb.”

When we had gotten back to the campsite, I had introduced Henry to Jeb.

“Well how do you do, Jeb?” Henry asked.

Jeb stood by my side, silent in response to Henry. Even from my short encounter with him, I knew he didn’t talk much, and probably never had. Henry looked at him quizzically, wondering why he remained soundless.

“Well, who’s hungry?” I said, breaching the silence with an uncomfortable smile.

We sat in silence at chewed on the tough, salty meat without complaint. I had never much enjoyed it, although circumstances could be much poorer, and I wasn’t about to do any fair share of complaining. When we were finished, Jeb wandered off into the grass, although dusk was setting in, so we warned him to stay close by.  Despite his outward lack of understanding, Jeb never wandered far from where we had set up camp, and we made sure to keep an eye on him.  Occasionally, he would stop his running around, as he likely got tired from doing so, and would occupy himself with some other menial distraction.

He stayed the night with us, camped out under the stars, and slept all until the morning. Before we set off in the morning, there was still no trace of Jeb’s family, and Henry and I certainly weren’t going to leave him behind.  We thought that maybe if our luck was tall, we could run into his folks on the trail. But chances of that were dearly grim, I had noted to myself, as Jeb’s circumstances were no doubt why he had been left behind.  Although my present conditions had not left me as a mother, my maternal instincts were lit by the taking in of Jeb, however long that would be, I didn’t know at the time. 

As we bumped along the trail, every now and then he would turn and smile at me, and it saddened me deeply that his simple mind couldn’t comprehend the extent of the situation.  I couldn’t fathom the kind of mother, or family even, that could do this to a poor, disadvantaged boy. It hurt me to know that he probably didn’t think anything of it, that his humble mind was at ease.  But maybe that was the beauty of it all, his mind being at ease, as it helped separate him from the things in life that caused the rest of us to suffer.

Due to his lack of speech, it was a bit difficult at times trying to communicate with him, but we managed alright.  His words didn’t work well, but his listening was excellent, and he understood us just fine.  The longer he stayed with us, the more we learned of the troubles he had with certain things, or the way his thoughts would just wander at times, away from things we had spoken to him.

One thing was certain; we never looked down upon him as a burden, but looked at him just as we would anyone else. I didn’t know it back when we found him, but he would find a special place in my heart, and Henry’s too.  He was special, Jeb was, and we came to love him as one of our own.

 

It seemed like such a long time had passed since that moment, back out on the trail where we’d found Jeb, to now, with him sitting at the table, patiently awaiting his evening meal.  Henry and he had formed quite the bond since that time, and Jeb finds nearly every excuse to help Henry out around the homestead when he’s not out at the mines. In times other than helping Henry, Jeb was always willing to help me out with the many strenuous chores that had to be done about the farm.

“Alright, the both of you, supper is just about ready now,” I said, grabbing a big wooden spoon from the hanging rack over the stove.

No one said much to the start of dinner, as we were all just as exhausted as one another from the day’s work. I filled everyone’s bowls to the ridge, and gave everyone some bread to start off the meal. Despite our fatigued bodies and minds, I always tried to keep up the conversation, in hopes of keeping everyone’s spirits up.

“Jeb did a mighty fine job today helping me out in the woods, collecting fruit. We were going to take some of the seeds and try planting ourselves a tree,” I explained to Henry.

“A tree? Well, that’s a fine idea. What kind of tree?”

“We were thinking an apple tree, weren’t we, Jeb?” I asked him.  He nodded back to me in approval. I continued on. “There’s already a little grove some ways into the woods with a few apple trees, but it’s a bit of a far walk, especially since I don’t have a horse here to ride.”

“You thinking we should get you a horse?” Henry asked curiously.

“Well I don’t think it would be a bad idea, now would it? It would be truly useful, especially for going out into the woods. Then I could scout out all that open land behind us, see what it’s good for,” I explained. “I heard there’s a tribe of Natives not far from here.”

“Savages?” Henry suddenly looked all too serious, and halted himself from continuing his meal. His fists were clenched together, the whites of his knuckles showing through.

“Well yes,” I replied, “When we were talking to that nice man the last time we were down in town, the one who owned the shop, he spoke of a Native tribe not far from here. I could see about their whereabouts.”

Henry snapped. “I don’t want you, nor Jeb, to be going anywhere near that bunch of savages.  We have no use for them, and you sure don’t need to be making them think we want to be on good terms with them.”

I was taken aback. I knew of Henry’s disliking of the Natives, as it seemed all white men did these days, but he had never showed revulsion of this sort in front of Jeb. In my eyes, I didn’t see what all the fuss about the Natives was. I didn’t have any interest in them, nor did I have hatred like the rest did.

“Well alright,” I countered, “but I still think getting me a horse would be a worthy idea.”

Henry looked a little upset at his outburst, as he wasn’t the type of man to do such things.  I could see a slight bit of shame in his eyes, but I was always forgiving towards him, as he was forgiving towards me just the same.  I knew of his hard work every day down in those dark, dusty mines, and understood that it might get the better of him towards the end of the day.

“I think we can manage that,” he smiled. “I’ll keep an eye out for anyone who’s selling; ask around a bit at the mine.”

We continued our meal in silence, swallowing back every last bit of the stew.  It was nice, sitting around the table at the end of the day, just enjoying our meal and one another’s company.  It made me miss Vermont, and my papa and brother.  One thing I had never tired of was making a virtuous meal for my papa, and my brother when he found the responsibility to get on home.  Despite our busy lives, it was a time to be together, to share stories and memories, to talk about current issues we were all faced with, and more than anything, the time to be a family. Although I missed what I had back home, I realized that what I was really looking for was all right here, sitting with me at this table.  I had Henry, who was a fine man and husband, the hardest worker I knew. And I had Jeb, although he wasn’t really mine, but he knew I was only here to look out for him and do my best for him.

Just as we were finishing up our meal, I looked out the window, only disappointed to see that the fence that enclosed the oxen was down again.

“Oh! Well, I’ll be!” I exclaimed, rising from my chair to peer out the window. “That darn fence, it’s down again!”

In the few months that we had lived up on the mountain, that same fence had been down at least once a week, and the oxen and other small animals in the pasture never seemed active enough to blame.  Just as Henry and Jeb rose to get a look as well, I saw what looked like the swish of a tail, disappear into the foliage. 

Author's Note

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