Leaving Hedges

by Theresa Konwinski

Table of Contents

Table of Contents
parts: 1, 2, 3, 4

part 2.2

It wasn’t long before Dad made time to take Arnold out to meet Big Phil, and I got to tag along. Now I was the one whistling and dancing ahead while Dad and Arnold walked along, talking quietly with each other.

We made our way to the clearing, and I noticed right away that Big Phil had done some work at the site. The broken windows of the cabin had been cleared and all the shards of glass removed. Several tree stumps had been set up around the fire ring. There were no clothes in the tree branches. It must not have been laundry day.

Big Phil unfolded himself through the door of the cabin and met my dad and Arnold in the clearing. His dark hair was neatly combed, and he had on a red plaid flannel shirt, even though it was a warm June day. He offered us coffee in tin cups. My dad let me have a little with milk and sugar in it. I don’t know where Big Phil got the milk.

Then we sat on the stumps Phil had arranged around the fire ring and had a perfectly pleasant, regular old conversation. It was so normal that I got bored and started looking for trillium and beehives in the woods. It seemed like a long time before the men finally stopped talking and we headed back towards town.

Arnold Haskins was smiling. “Reckon it’ll all work out, Roy. Thanks for going with me.”

“I enjoyed it myself. He’s an interesting man.”

“That he is. We should invite him into town to meet other people.”

My dad stopped walking. “You really think they’re ready for that, Arnold?”

Arnold chuckled a bit. “If I can stop being afraid, and I’m seventy-seven, I believe the rest of these youngsters ought to be able to work up some courage.” He kept on walking.

Dad rubbed his chin, then took a couple of quick steps to catch up with Arnold. “I have an idea...”

He didn’t say what his idea was, but I knew that when my dad started dreaming up something, it would come to pass.

* * *

Mom had baked about twenty pies. The other ladies in town made potato salad and baked beans, lime Jell-o molds and chocolate cake. A hog roasted on a spit over a deeply dug pit.

George and Mary Parker had volunteered their back yard for a town party. Mr. Parker even built an oversized bench for Big Phil to sit on. The legs were made out of slender tree trunks, the seat out of a larger tree trunk which Mr. Parker split in half.

Most everyone in town was there except for a few of the real old people and the Pettigrew family.

All we had to do was wait for the guest of honor. The women clucked over many delicious-looking dishes set on a picnic table and made promises to share recipes. We kids played jacks on the sidewalk in front of the Parker house until Dad, Arnold, and Big Phil came down the street. I saw Big Phil’s head above the privet long before I ever heard the men walking toward us. I ran out to meet them.

“Howdy, little lady,” Big Phil said. I wondered if he’d forgotten my name. “Whooo-whee! Something sure does smell good!” He stopped to sniff the air, taking in a long, deep whiff. “Helen, why don’t you take us to wherever that smell is coming from?”

He hadn’t forgotten me at all.

I reached up and took his hand, proud to be one of the instruments of Big Phil’s introduction to the town. The kids I’d been playing jacks with watched with their mouths hanging open as I guided our new friend around to the back of the Parker house, where the adults waited.

A few people hesitated to approach, but most everyone walked right up to Big Phil like they’d known him all their lives. I credit my dad for this response, which was unusual for the residents of Hedges. Dad had done a lot to pull this party together, talking to people all over town about what to expect, telling them what fun it would be to do something outside the normal routines of life. He’d done a good sales job because even the timid soon got over their uncertainty.

After lunch, with Big Phil declaring it was the best meal he’d ever eaten, kids played freeze-tag while the adults talked to each other and to Big Phil. Eventually, our new friend joined the children, offering each one of us a ride on his shoulders. Boy, who could’ve ever turned that down? Anxious mothers watched on but didn’t deny us our chance to be nine feet seven inches in the air.

I took my turn on Phil’s shoulders, but I knew I was really too big for that sort of thing, and besides, I felt a little sick at my stomach. I asked Phil to put me down.

“Are you all right, Helen?”

“I think so, but I don’t feel as good as I did this morning. I guess I ate too much.” I started to walk towards the shade of a big maple tree.

Big Phil called to me. “Uh, Helen? Wait.” His face was dark, serious. He strode towards me. “Maybe you didn’t eat too much. Maybe it’s something else.”

“What?”

He hesitated, then looked at the ground. “Helen, you have a red stain on the back of your pants. I think it might be... you know... blood.” He lifted his face just enough to look at me with one eye.

Of course. Mom had told me to expect it at any time now. Mortified, I spoke as quietly and clearly as I could. “What do I do, Phil? I have to get home! Right now! And everyone will see!” My face was on fire.

“Let me think, Helen... Hey, weren’t you wearing a little sweater earlier?”

I had worn a pink cardigan until the sun warmed me up. I saw it lying where I discarded it, near the very maple tree I had been walking towards.

“Stay right here. I’ll get it for you.”

Big Phil jogged over to the tree, picked up my sweater and jogged back with it. As he ran, I followed him with my eyes, looking to see if I had gotten any blood on him. Relieved, I saw nothing.

“Use the sleeves to tie this around your waist. Let the sweater part hang down in the back. No one will ever know.” He smiled.

I thanked him and walked away to tell my mom I was leaving. I looked back over my shoulder and noticed how tired Big Phil looked. I figured him to be about twenty-five or thirty years old, but even if you’re young, when you’re as big as all that, it’s a lot more work to run around with kids who aren’t even half your size.

I couldn’t ignore this. Phil had helped me. I had to help him. Before I took off to find Mom, I got the biggest glass I could find, filled it full of water from a pitcher on the picnic table, and gave it to Phil. He drank it down in one long swig, then wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

“Thank you, Helen. I needed that. But you should head for home now, and I guess I should go back to the cabin.”

“Want me to walk with you?” Despite my own plight, grateful for his kindness, I craved more time with him.

He smiled. “You’re a sweet girl to offer, but it probably looks better if you stay with your parents.”

I didn’t understand what he meant but, before I could ask, he continued: “Don’t worry. I’ll see you again soon. You go take care of yourself.” Then he walked out of the Parker’s yard and down the street towards the outskirts of town, where the road would take him all the way back to the woods.

* * *

To be continued...