Chapter Text
The children settled into something of a routine. Most of the days they spent at the farm, picking, canning, drying, caring for the animals, and any number of odd jobs that Peggy needed done. Lunch was always provided them on those days, and usually a treat for them to take home for supper and even breakfast the next morning. One day here and there Benny would go with Henry to the farm and help Peggy while Henry milked the goats, and the girls would head to the houses to find more treasures. With the use of the wagon, they managed to bring the lumber and sandpaper needed for Henry to build a shelving unit in the evenings, and soon the pantry end of the boxcar held neat rows of cans. Jess had grabbed whatever clothing she could find in the houses, and while they looked a little funny (the sight of Henry tightening his belt and rolling up the pant legs to wear pants designed for a grown man was a bit comical), they were warm and clean. Many an evening found them enjoying their pool, and Jess even found a copy of a book of animal stories for Vi to read when she had a minute—and an interesting storybook for herself.
One evening, Jess announced to all, "It's time we had our hair trimmed. I found a pair of hair trimming scissors on our last trip to the houses. Benny's, in particular, is getting into his eyes."
"Will it hurt?" Benny asked.
"No, it doesn't hurt to cut your hair," Jess reassured him, smiling. "Mom used to cut it before. Here, stand in front of me, and I'll give it a quick trim. I don't need to take off that much, just so you can see without any hair in the way."
So Jess trimmed Benny's, and then Vi's. "Don't cut it short, though," said Vi.
"Wouldn't it be easier to take care of?" Jess asked.
"No-o, then you have to keep it out of your face. It combs out easily enough. At least leave it as long as my shoulders," she said.
Henry's was a quick trim, and then Jess handed the scissors to Vi, who carefully snipped an even line across the back. "There, that looks better," Jess proclaimed. She set the scissors in the correct drawer and pulled out her book to do a little more reading by the fire before they had to turn in.
A few minutes went by, and her reading was interrupted by Benny's voice. "There, I trimmed Watch's hair too," he announced.
"Oh no, Benny, what did you do?" asked Jess with a groan. When she caught sight of Watch, she began to laugh. Most of the hair on one side was cropped short, but unevenly, so long tufts sprouted here and there. It was so ridiculous that she laughed and laughed until tears came to her eyes. Vi laughed too, until she was really crying, and couldn't stop.
Jess felt Vi's forehead. "Her head feels really warm; she must have a fever!" she said to Henry, eyes wide with worry.
They lifted Vi into bed and covered her with warm blankets, and gave her a tablet of ibuprofen. Henry and Jess sat up to watch her, but that night she began to shake. "I think we had better take her to Peggy's," Henry said. "Peggy would know what to do."
Jess was grateful that Vi was still small for her age, as they carried her to the trailer and curled her body up to fit in it, blankets tucked all around her. They packed a change of clothes in their backpack and tossed in a small handful of things they thought they might need. "Benny, wake up," Jess called, shaking him gently. "Vi is very sick, and we have to go to Peggy's house so she can take care of her." Benny sleepily climbed on the bike. "You can't ride in the carrier; you're getting too big. Besides, Watch will have to sit there," Jess told him.
Watch seemed to understand the importance of staying still, and he stood motionless in the seat as the children began to bike the path by moonlight. "I'm tired," complained Benny with a yawn.
"I know, Benny, but we have to get there now. You're a big enough boy now to ride the bike," Henry said.
Peggy's house was dark, but when Henry ran up the steps and pounded on the door, Peggy soon answered it, holding a candle. "Henry? Whatever is the matter?"
"My sister Vi is sick, and she can't stop shaking. Can you help?" Henry pleaded.
"Of course, of course; bring her inside. I'll go make up a pallet for her on the floor in the kitchen here. Then start the stove fire while I look at her," Peggy told him.
For the rest of the night and the next day, Peggy gave Vi medicine and showed Jessie how to use hot and cold water to treat the fever. "This is how my grandmother used to do it; they called them fomentations. Works wonders, as well as most of the so-called miracle drugs they discovered this century. And without the side effects too. The medicines are still good now but eventually they'll quit working, so you'll need to learn how to do this."
Benny followed Henry around that day, as he cared for the animals and garden. After the first day, Vi's fever broke, but she was very weak for many days, and Jess had to go get all of their clothes from the boxcar so they could stay with her until she improved. In the evenings, Peggy taught the children things she had learned as a child—how to darn socks, how to knit… "There's a flock of sheep on one of the other farms," she said. "All I've managed to do for them is to make sure they have access to enough food and water, but it'd be good to see if we can't keep them alive till next spring and shear them. Wool makes excellent clothing."
Jess looked at Henry, a question in her eyes. They would need to discuss their plans, and soon, especially as Vi was regaining strength quickly now.
The next evening, after the children had cleaned up from supper, Jess caught Henry's eye and went out to the porch swing. He made excuses soon after, following her out and sitting beside her.
"When we came here, it was so Vi would get better. She's almost better now. What then?" asked Jess. "I like Peggy, but… I don't want another grandma." Theirs had lived an hour away by car; Jess knew the chances of her survival were slim to nonexistent, and had accepted that she would never see her again.
Henry thought for a bit. "I feel the same way. I think we should go back to live in the boxcar, but…" he trailed off.
"What is it?"
"When it comes to winter, the boxcar isn't going to be warm enough. We can't put a stove in it, like Peggy has in her house. It's great in the summertime, with our pool and fridge and everything, but in the winter the pool and fridge will be frozen over and we will have a hard time even starting a fire, much less cooking."
Jess sighed. "You're right."
They sat in silence for a few more minutes, listening to the sounds of the peaceful evening. Other than the occasional bleat from the goats carried on the breeze or rustle from the chicken pen nearby, the evening birdsong was all that met their ears. "Maybe we can ask Peggy if we can board like farmhands used to? Over the winter, an exchange of our labor for the room and board."
"I like that," said Jess. "When all the adults died, at first it was really scary, you know? But, I've gotten used to it now—making decisions, taking care of everyone…"
Henry nodded. "Yeah, me too. We've learned to work together, and I like that. I don't want to give all of that up just to have a grownup take care of us again."
"No, we can do this," Jess declared. "We just need a place to live where it's warm. Maybe we could stay at the other farmhouse, the one by the goats."
Peggy was enthusiastic when they broached the idea with her. "Excellent idea! Of course you could stay there, that farmhouse has been lying empty for over a month now. I took care of the people who lived there, so it's clean, just probably a bit dusty. There's enough bedrooms for all of you, and it has a wood stove as well, thank goodness. The one on the other side of me took theirs out only a few years ago; I told them it was a bad idea, but they thought I was too old-fashioned. Old-fashioned, hmph!" Her loud snort made clear the depth of her feelings towards that decision. "For that matter, you can take over the goats permanently. I'm an old woman, and I'm not getting any younger; what use do I have for two farms? Can't keep up with one," she told them.
"So we can move in tomorrow, then," Henry said.
"Good idea as any. You don't have to tell me outright; I can tell you youngsters are used to taking care of yourselves now."
"It's not that we don't like you…" Jess tried to explain.
Peggy gave her a sympathetic look. "I understand, Jess. So farmhands, eh? I could use four of those, you know. Two bigger, two smaller. Hard workers. I can trade food and knowledge for labor. How does that sound?"
"Perfect," said Henry, smiling, and shook her hand in agreement.
The next day, Vi stayed up at Peggy's while Henry and Jess and Benny went to the boxcar and back, to retrieve the things they had left that they would want with them. "I'm going to miss this place," Jess said as she folded their blankets up and packed them into the trailer.
"We'll come back," he told her. "Maybe even next month, but for sure next summer. We'll come back and camp here several times, and swim in the pool, and make food over our fire. Every year, we'll do that. It can be our home away from home."
Jess smiled. "Home away from home, I like the sound of that."
They loaded the wagon and trailer with all that they could hold, and even Benny's backpack held as much as they could stuff in it. They were unloading when Jess walked out the front door of the house to see a man walking by the road. "Henry!" she called, and he quickly joined her at the door.
"Let's go talk to him," Henry said. "Good afternoon, sir!" he greeted, walking down the path toward the road.
The man looked startled to see the children. "Are you related to the Millers?"
"Were they the family who owned this farm?" asked Henry. "No, we're not. They died in the plague. I've been milking their goats."
The man was taken aback. "It's rare to find a boy who knows how to milk goats. Were you from another farm in the area?"
"No, Peggy taught me," Henry told him.
The man's face lit up. "She's alive? She survived the plague? I had hoped, but… so many did not."
"Are you her son?" Jess asked, joining Henry. "We're her farmhands. She's teaching us how to farm."
The man smiled wide. "Yes, I'm her son Neil. It's good to meet you. I'm going to go see my mother now." And with that he strode down the road to Peggy's farm, twice as fast as he had come.
Henry and Jess looked at each other and almost unanimously started following him. "Benny, let's walk down to Peggy's," Jess called.
They could not keep up with the man's long legs, so when they arrived they found Neil and Peggy hugging each other again and again. Tears ran down both their faces. "I thought you had died in the plague," said Peggy, and Neil said the same thing back to her.
Then Peggy caught sight of the three children. "Oh, Neil, have you met my farmhands? This is Henry, and Jess, and their little brother Benny. Their sister Vi's been staying with me; she had pneumonia a few weeks ago and is almost recovered."
"Pneumonia? How old is she?"
"She'll be 10 next month," Jess said.
"You used the old remedies, I take it," Neil said.
"Of course, what else would I use?" Peggy retorted.
Neil grinned. "Ah, Mother, it's good to hear your voice."
Henry and Jess smiled at each other. "We'd better get back to unpacking," Henry said. "It's nice to meet you, Neil."
They walked back to their new home and resumed carrying in their things. When each item was in its new place, Jess walked outside and surveyed the land around them. Henry walked up beside her. "It doesn't feel like home quite yet," Jess said softly.
"We've had to move a lot. But now we have two homes, the boxcar and here," Henry said.
"And we have each other." Jess smiled at him. "Just like Peggy has Neil now."
"That's the most important thing," he told her, and returned the smile. "We're all together, and we'll make it."