15 comments/ 29122 views/ 5 favorites Miss Mannerly By: 2Xwidderwoman "Miss Mannerly, you must do something." "Your Honor, perhaps you can help me, then." "And how may I help you?" He asks, as if it might be slightly beneath him to give help to someone, rather than expecting it from them. "That I know of, there is no law, city ordinance or other directive that makes it a requirement he be in school." Miss Mannerly is careful of the way she expresses herself, she is, after all, merely the teacher, not a city leader. "Well, there should be", he announces indignantly. "This town pays for you to teach our children and that young man should be in school. Why, he can barely speak our language." "Yes perhaps something should be done, but it is not my responsibility to see it so." "Then I will do something about it", he announces and stands, places his hat on his head and leave the schoolhouse, intent upon stirring someone to do something about a young boy who has never set one foot inside the community school. Of course, he expects to sit back and watch the actions others perform, while he takes a portion of the credit for being a forward looking citizen. "And when you have done so, I will be happy to have him in school." The Judge, as he is called, because he was once on a judicial bench in another place at a much earlier time, stomps out of the small building where Miss Mannerly holds school for the local students, during those parts of the year, when the children can be spared by their parents from farm or other chores, for a modest education. The young woman returns to looking at the mathematical calculations of two of the older students and contemplates, once again, that if her mother had married a man with a less polite name, she might not have been expected to be quite so pleasant to the Judge. If, for instance, she were able to introduce herself as Miss Hellfire or Miss Damnation, she could swear or curse, on those occasions when a curse word is eminently suitable. As Miss Mannerly walks down the small hill and along the main street, to Henderson's Boarding House, she is so engrossed in her thoughts that she is not looking where she is going and runs into Mister Adams, or would have done so had he not stopped her by grabbing both of her upper arms. "Mary Ann?" "Oh, hello, Peter, how are you today?" "I'm fine, but you seem to be in deep contemplation of a very serious matter." "I am, Peter. I'm planning the next session's lessons." Unable to involve her in a conversation, beyond her request for some printed worksheets, Peter Adams finally says, "Good night, Mary Ann." Mumbling to herself as she walks away, "It is Marion, Marion, do you hear, it is not Mary Ann". The only word she permits herself to say aloud, although she says it under her breath, is "Idiot." And hopes anyone who hears her will think she is talking to herself. **** The next morning, Marion Mannerly walks sedately, all the way to the other end of town, passing a small carpenter's shop, with its most prominent display item, a hand rubbed, beautiful grained, wooden coffin propped against the outside wall of his shop, beside the door. "Mr. Abernathy", she says, indicating the coffin "that is certainly beautiful woodwork." "Why thank you, Miss Marion." She thinks to herself, it is most unfortunate that one of the few people in this whole town, who can say her name correctly, specializes in building coffins. It is additionally unfortunate, that he is at least fifty or may even be sixty years old. Because of the newspaper's error with her name, when the article was written about the school re-opening after a new teacher was hired, to everyone she is Mary Ann Mannerly (Miss). During the first few days she was in town, she told people of the error, but few actually paid much attention. When she enters the general store in search of a ribbon to replace one on her good petticoat, which broke this morning, Peter Adams approaches her. "Good morning Mary Ann. When you have completed your shopping, I have some papers for you to look at, to see if I have done as you requested." "Peter, thank you, I had not expected you to do them so quickly. After all you have other customers to please." "Oh, but you are indeed a special customer. Shall I expect you before I close at noon?" "Yes, I have at least one additional stop after this and I will be along shortly." "Very well, see you then." And he walks off down the wooden walk gaily humming. "I think he's sweet on you, Miss Mannerly." Choosing to ignore that comment, Marion says, "Good morning Mistress Babbitt. I am in need of two yards of wide ribbon, preferably white." "You don't think Mister Adams is sweet on you?" "I do not know him well enough to give you a good opinion on that matter." "Well, I know him and I think he is sweet on you." Try as hard as she can, she cannot muster a blush and if ever one was called for, now is the time. It would prevent her from needing to voice a response, and instead she asks if there are any new bolts of cloth. Colder weather is approaching and she would like to make a new cloak with a hood, to wear back and forth to the school on cold mornings. Mistress Babbitt shows her two bolts of wool, one is navy blue which will probably fade every time it is washed, and the other is a very dark red, which will also fade. If she purchases enough of one for the outside and enough of the other for the lining of her cloak, the colors will certainly bleed onto each other and look old, worn, and faded before winter is over, and if they get wet while she is wearing the cloak, which is a certainty, they may bleed onto her dress under the cloak and she will look simply awful. But it seems these are the only choices, so she asks for enough from each bolt for her cloak and thread to match, please. Adding an additional stop for her morning is now a necessity. She can take care of her own laundry needs, for the most part, but this is going to be a more difficult task that she can handle at the boarding house. She walks to the other end of town and goes behind the stable to speak to the Chinese man who operates a combination bath house and laundry. She wonders, not for the first time, who has taken a bath in the wash water used to clean the occasional piece of clothing she brings for Mister Chin to launder, but goes inside anyway. "Good morning, Mister Chin." "Ah, teacher lady." Although Mister Chin speaks English very well, he continues to act the part of a simple Chinese immigrant, when she knows, for a fact, he was born in San Francisco and ventured east to find a drier climate. "I need some help. I want to make a fully lined cloak and the only wool cloth Mistress Babbitt had is dark blue and dark red. I am afraid the colors will bleed every time they are washed and then bleed onto each other as I wear the cloak from and to school and stain my dresses and skirts. Can you suggest a solution or should the material be boiled?" "Chin fix for teacher lady. Chin piss." "I beg your pardon?" Looking about to make sure no one else can hear him he says, "In Scotland, when the women wove their clan tartans, they poured hot fresh human urine on the tartan material and pulled and stomped the material to set the colors and give them a waterproof quality. After treatment the material would often be put into a river to allow a great deal of water to flush the urine out and then it is laundered. After this treatment the colors might fade gradually over many years use, as will any material with use, but not nearly to the extent they would if they were not treated." Unlike some other people, Marion is not shocked at his explanation. "How wonderful it is, that we can still use some of the old methods. Civilization may not be lost, after all. So, can you treat this wool for me?" He reverts to what is expected of him and says, "Chin fix, seven day, you come back." Now, if the bank will finally give her this month's salary, even though it is due to her on the first of the month and is now nearly the middle of the month, she will have completed all of her errands and can go see about her worksheets. "Good morning, Mister Hanson. And may I have my salary today?" "Why yes, Miss Mannerly, I have just enough, that is, if you care to make a deposit to your account." He opens his desk drawer and removes an envelope and hands it to her. Then he stands and goes behind the teller's cage and takes the money back, except for the few dollars she puts into her purse. Teach a few months and off for the summer. Teach a few months and off for the winter. Working this way fills just over six months and she was told to expect eight. So, being paid six months pay is not what she expected, but there are so few places for her to spend money, that she has managed to save some, only because she cannot find anything to purchase. As she walks out of the bank, the sheriff across the street tips his hat to her and she raises her hand and calls a friendly good morning to him. He is such a quiet, solemn man, seldom saying more than two or three words at a time. She has seen him on the street almost every time she is near any of the local businesses. She wonders if he spends all of his time outdoors or if he sits in his office for part of each day. Several other shop keepers or shoppers stop to say a few words or simply wave as she walks toward the newspaper, a few inquiring about their child's progress in school. Across the counter from her, Peter Adams shows her the papers he has printed, spreading them about to show her. She is surprised, "Peter, this is exactly what I need. Thank you, so much." "I have something else that may help, too. Just a minute, let me go get it." He steps away from his side of the counter and goes to a desk in the corner, which is covered with past issues, stacks of paper and customer orders. When he returns, he lays a very broad point calligraphy pen on the counter and a small bottle of ink. "Oh, how smart you are", Marion says. "Mary Ann, I must caution you. This is not India ink, or ink you might expect to use with a letter writing instrument. It is much denser and thicker. If you get it on your clothing, it may not come out and there is the devil of a time getting it off your skin." He turns his hand palm upward and shows her his fingers and hand and the ground in ink that stains them. "Do you ever wear gloves?" "The problem with gloves is you are more likely to be clumsy and make an even larger mess. No, I do not. I heard of a printer who, this is a little delicate, took sheep intestines, much like you would use for sausage stuffing and he made coverings for his fingers. Although it worked well for him, I doubt it would help much in the long run. About the only thing I have found that helps somewhat, is to use a good hand cream, or lard if necessary, rub it into your skin well, helps with making your skin soft, too", and he picks up one of her hands so she can see how soft his hand is, but he does not let go, even when she politely tires to remove her hand. Before he lets her hand go he asks, "Mary Ann, would you like to join me in a picnic lunch today? I have a buggy and the lunch is already in the buggy." Stumbling around for some excuse, Marion says, "Peter, I do not think it would ... I am trying to be polite .... I am in a very vulnerable position here ... Oh, I hope you understand." He tries to cover for his blundering and says, "Perhaps we might go to that big tree in the school yard, and eat our lunch there. It is in full view of most of the street and you would feel better about it that way." "Yes, that is much better. Please, before you plan another outing, such as this, you might ask me first", Marian smiles, when she would much prefer to scream at the man for the awkward position he has placed her in. "Yes, I had thought to do that, but this was such a spur of the moment thing after I saw you this morning, that I stopped at the café and ordered lunch." And Marion is not the least bit convinced that he is not lying through his teeth. He has planned this for a week or more and the encounter this morning was not chance and how is she going to tell this man that she is not the least interested in his attention? Besides him, the man who owns both the saloon and the stable approached her, along with the widower father of one of her students and one of the sheriff's occasional deputies. What is with all the men? That's just it, there are all these men, and no women. And every one of the men want only one thing, a wife. So, much as she dreads what will be said of her, all over town, before the lunch is even unpacked, she tells Peter she will walk to the school, and he can bring the buggy and the lunch later, after he closes the newspaper shop for the day. And then, as an afterthought adds that after lunch she will need to stay at the school to complete some work for the next week's classes. Then she thinks to herself, and he absolutely cannot stay with her and take her back to the boarding house. She still wishes she had arranged with a friend to send her a letter every week or so and she could pretend the letters are from a beau, so she would not be having this problem. If this happens again, she may as well leave town. She may loose two students as it is, the son of the widowed father and his brother's daughter. What a mess. It is no fun being twenty-two, single, in a town where more than half the men are single and she is not looking for a husband. She wants to earn a little money, go on a trip, and then go to another town and do the same again until she finds a place where she would really like to live. Only then will she consider being "courted" by a man. The picnic lunch is really good and she did develop quite an appetite walking from one end of town to the other and thankfully Peter was smart enough to bring a jar of sweet tea, for each of them, wrapped in a wet cloth that when left in the breeze cools even more. The tea is very good and she was beginning to get thirsty, but would not stop until she had all of her errands finished. However, about the time they are just finishing their meal, the Sheriff rides up, stopping near the quilt where she and Peter Adams are sitting. After getting off his horse and approaching, he removes his hat and says, "Miss Mannerly, I hate to disturb you. I noticed you are at the school today when Mister Adams brought you some lunch. But I have a situation I would like a little help with, if you do not mind?" "Certainly, Sheriff, what is it?" Marion looks up at him. As he pulls an envelope out of his pocket, he asks, "Ma'am do you read French?" "Yes, I do", she answers. "I am by no means an expert, but I can try. What do you have?" "Well, I ... I tell you what. I'll just go into the school until you have finished your lunch and then you can help me. Is that acceptable to you?" "Yes, I just need to help Mister Adams pack up the basket and I will be right with you." Then she adds to herself that she may fall at his knees in thanks for getting her out of such a mess. When Peter, packed lunch basket in hand, is on his way back to town, Marion goes into the school house and walks to the front of the room, where the Sheriff sits in one of the front seats, which has no desktop. "Now, Sheriff, how can I help you?" "Oh, I was just telling a little story. Thought I'd help you out a little. If you wish that I not interfere, you would have thought of something, I am sure." She stands and looks at the man, not a bad looking man, by the way. Somewhat older than she is, but still what is politely called, "a fine figure of a man." And without meaning to, she bursts into laughter, while he grins and she falls down to sit in the front seat in the next row. When she can finally talk, she says, "Oh, you are a wonderful man." While he blushes, she adds, "I was just thinking to myself that I should fall at your knees in thanks for you getting me out of such a mess." Which statement she follows by an explanation of the chance meeting earlier with Peter and his hand holding invitation to a picnic and her dread of the consequences of the picnic, no matter what she tried. "Well," he drawls out the word, "I have seen him watching you and I was a little afraid he would try to "put his brand on you" as the western expression is used. If I have stepped on your toes or caused you to miss a nice afternoon with a suitor, I apologize." "No no, no apology is needed, but you do have my thanks. You don't really have a letter in French, do you?" "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. But it is from my Aunt and not something I need translated." She tries not to show her surprise, but doesn't quite manage it, "You... you read French." Feigning a western drawl, he says, "Aw shucks ma'am, ain't all us cowmen so dumb, as you might expect." She tries to cover for her blunder and says, "No, that is not what I meant" and decides she really should be honest, "I am sorry, yes it was what I meant and I apologize for thinking you were nothing more than a simple sheriff." "Well, as to that, I am rather simple. But perhaps not as uneducated as I try to appear", he smiles easily, but the smile is quickly gone again. "Then why do you? Why do you try to appear uneducated?" "Oh, I guess it has more to do with the people here, than it does with me. I need to be trusted, you see. I do not believe people want to be, or are, comfortable trusting someone who might know more than they do. I may not be saying it in a way you can easily understand, but I believe you know what I mean, perhaps from your own experience." "Sheriff ... you know, I don't even know your name." "Miss MARION Mannerly, may I introduce myself, I am Richard Harold Robertson, the Third, by the way. But you may call me Richard or Dick as most of the people around here do, although I would really prefer you use Richard." Marion holds out her hand, "I am pleased to meet you Richard. And once again, thank you." He shakes her hand gently and says, "Now if I may be a little familiar and call you Marion, I will see you home." "Yes, I would like that." As they walk down the hill, with Richard leading his horse, he says, "You know this is a very small town, so please do not think I watch you all the time, but I saw you coming out of Mister Chin's laundry. Does he talk to you?" "Oh, so you know, too", she turns to look at him. Richard looks up at the sky and says, "It is a really pretty day, is it not. The sky is so clear. I think you are the only other person in town he trusts enough to talk to, other than me. We play chess." "Which one of you is the better player?" she asks. "Licks my butt every time, pardon my language", he responds, and then adds, "Then he cackles like a mad chicken." She cannot help herself, as they near the boarding house she is once again laughing for the sheer joy of not needing to pretend with at least one person in this town. Richard chuckles a little too, but also looks around to see who might be watching. At the front gate, he stops for a moment and says, "See you in church in the morning, Marion." "Yes, Richard, I will see you in church, too. Thank you for seeing me home." As he walks away, he stops and turns to ask, "Marion, do you play chess?" "Yes, but I'm afraid I'm not very good." "That is wonderful. If you don't mind, I would like to play you a game or two of chess. Then I won't feel so bad about loosing all the time to Mister Chin." "Oh, that sounds good, and perhaps I can practice and get a little better. I've always heard that practice improves your skill." "I sure hope so. I cannot leave this town until I beat that little cackling Chin." **** After church, several townspeople are standing around talking when Peter Adams comes to stand beside Marion. She managed to sit between two older women in church this morning, which deprived him of sitting beside her as he has done on several other Sundays. She thinks she has a way to show some distance between herself and him and tries a simple greeting, "Good morning, Mister Adams." Miss Mannerly Being addressed formally, he has no choice but to respond in like manner, but she can tell he does not like it, "And a good morning to you Miss Mannerly." The sheriff saunters over and asks, "Marion, are you going to let me beat you at chess this afternoon." "Sheriff Robertson, I am willing to play the game," she smiles faintly at him, and then continues, "but I'm not willing to admit defeat in advance. Are we still going to play our game in your office?" "Yes ma'am if you don't mind. I have one man sleeping off a hard night, but he does not snore too badly. I will call for you about two o'clock." He walks off as several of the church goers stare after him and Peter Adams looks at her as if he wants to spank her for being a naughty child or worse. Marion walks back to the boarding house with a light step, hoping the chess game will put an end to the Peter Adams problem, but fears the fire of that problem is still smoldering and may blaze again if she is not careful. The sheriff calls for her at two o'clock and in fact they play two games, one before the drunken man wakes up, and the other, after Richard lets him go home. With the sheriff's front office door open and a mild breeze blowing into the building, Marion can be seen sitting across the sheriff's desk bent over the chess board. She looses the first game, miserably, and not quite so miserably, looses the second. They talk companionably about a variety of subjects and the sheriff's occasional laughter can be heard well into the street, along with her soft laugh, although not nearly so often. She tells Richard, "See, a little competition improved my skill. In another oh, say, twenty years, I may beat you." As they walk out of his office they discuss if the impromptu chess game helped. She admits it may have only delayed the problem, but time will tell. Peter Adams may be difficult to persuade that she has no interest in him. Several local citizens have begun to use both of their names in a sentence, as if they are a couple, although her use of "Mister Adams" seems to be convincing those same citizens there is no link between the two of them. "Well, let me get you home before the gossip tongues are hard at work on the two of us, creating a story of affection that will keep them occupied for many weeks. However, if I am honest, I might like to be considered as worthy of attracting your attention", he says as they walk out of his office. "I guess it is fair for me to say that you have my attention", Marion admits. "But I will withhold my affection for the time being." "Then, I will just have to work harder, won't I?" Richard asks, chuckling. "Richard, please don't frighten me", Marion takes a step away from him. "No, that was not what I meant. I suppose every human alive, wants some kind of affection, babies, children, even men and women. Simple affection is very different from passion or lust or the various forms of contact between a man and a woman. I'm not speaking too coarsely to you, I hope." "No, but I think I may not have enough experience to understand some of what you are saying", Marion looks down at her feet as she walks down the walkway in front of the local businesses. "Oh, I believe you have the intelligence to figure out most of it. But what I was saying is, simple affection, one person feeling comfortable with another, and being honest with each other, has a lot to do with affection. It is when there is a wall between people that problems occur. Perhaps I should use the word trust, rather than affection, although I believe they are much the same." "You are quite the philosopher, are you not?" Marion asks, looking up at him, as he looks in the direction they are walking. Richard looks down at her and grins, "I have my moments." But his face immediately returns to its usual solemn look. As he takes her arm to help her up to the walkway on the other side of the street, he continues, "Marion, I am a man. Maybe I am not always a good man, or an honest man, or even as God fearing a man as I should be, but what it all comes down to is, I am only a simple human person of the male species. I am a man. And you are a woman, a soft, caring, and I will add that you are beautiful, if it will not offend you, and a downright smart woman. But, you are a woman. There is something about the differences between a man and a woman, and I do not mean the passion part, that is a whole other matter, but this difference is in the way we see the world around us and the people we come in contact with. I am a man and fear no one. You are a woman and fear everyone. And that is true, at least to some extent, for all women and all men. So, I guess what I offer is affection, or trust, if you like that word better. And from you, I would like the same. Can we at least agree on that?" "Yes, I think we can agree on that. But I am having a little difficulty understanding what form of affection you expect", her voice trembles slightly, as she responds. "Oh, I don't suppose I am speaking of something like holding hands, although I should enjoy holding your hand. I do mean that I want to take you on a ride to show you some beautiful country and sit beside you at a nighttime fire. But I do not mean that I want to watch that fire with you on my lap, although I would enjoy that, too. I want to see your reaction when you catch a fish and hear your congratulations for me catching one, too." He sees a closed look on her face and wants to soften his words. "Now, I fear you have the wrong idea, but you see, you are probably not even twenty-five yet, and I am almost forty, so there is a great difference between us as to age and maybe even the way we were reared. But I feel something from you and I want to explore it. Never in my life have I felt comfortable enough to say these things to a woman, and you listen. You don't interrupt and you try to understand. That is quite something in a friendship, if that is what we will call this. But I want some of the same from you. And I believe when you can speak your heart, or deepest feelings in true honesty, we will be showing each other a level of affection, or trust, that we can be very comfortable with." "Richard, I am a little nervous, and I really have no reason to be, but I am an orphan, at least for all intents and purposes. So you see, I know nothing of family, brothers, or sisters and have never had a human person, as you call yourself, to talk to, if I understand, what you are asking of me. I am not accustomed to showing affection to another of these people. But, if you will be patient with me, I should like to find my heart, so I can speak it to you. Does that make any sense?" "Better than you know Marion", he says quietly, not removing the serious expression from his face. "Now, if I happen to be riding by here", he says this as he opens the small wooden gate in front of Bertha Henderson's Boarding House, "and stop to say a word or two to you in the late evening, as I make my rounds, will you come out to the front porch or stand at this gate to exchange some words with me?" He allows her to walk through the gate, and then closes her inside the yard, with himself on the outside of the yard. She looks up at him and for the first time today, gives him a genuine, rather than a forced, smile. "Yes, after all, it would be the polite thing to do." "Good evening Miss Mannerly." "Good evening to you, too, Richard. Or should I address you as Sheriff Robertson?" "For the time being, perhaps Sheriff Robertson would be best. Again, good evening." As she walks in the front door, Bertha Henderson calls from her kitchen, "Is that you Marion?" When Marion responds affirmatively, Bertha asks, "How was your chess game?" Marion laughs lightly, and Bertha looks up from cutting an onion for her special Sunday supper of smothered chicken, because Bertha notices the laugh is more relaxed than she has yet to hear from the teacher, but she does not comment. Bertha then nods her understanding as Marion replies, "I lost the first match miserably, but I was a little better the second. I will need a great deal of practice to beat the sheriff, at his game." "Then you better not try to play chess with Mister Chin. I hear he beats the sheriff every time." "Yes, so Sheriff Robertson said." "Well, I am glad you enjoyed your afternoon. The Sheriff is such a kind man, to be in that sort of profession. I suspect he is near old enough to be your father." "I would not know Mrs. Henderson. We have not had a personal discussion that would allow me to ask for that kind of information. But I do agree that he is a kind man." Wednesday evening, while walking on his rounds of the buildings along the main street, Richard stops for a moment at Bertha Henderson's Boarding House, to say a few words to Marion and Bertha, who are sitting on the front porch, enjoying the last few minutes of daylight. "Good evening ladies", he says, as he tips his hat to the two women. Both women respond that it is, indeed a fine evening. Richard looks at Marion and says, "I am going to play chess against Mister Chin tonight. Might I inquire if either, or both, of you ladies would like to come watch my defeat?" Bertha laughs her booming laugh and says she hasn't enough energy left to walk that far two times. Marion thinks for a moment and says, "Perhaps I should come watch Mister Chin, I may learn something I can use the next time we have a game." "Well, get your shawl and if you do not mind a very slow walk back to the office, while I check doors and windows, I will allow you to witness my loss." He turns to Bertha and says, "I shall walk her home afterward, Mistress Henderson, unless I am so fortunate as to win, then I shall see that Mister Chin does so." Bertha responds, "Sheriff, I will not hold my breath for that outcome. Mister Scott says he can hear Mister Chin's laughter, all the way to the post office." With her shawl over her arm, Marion joins the sheriff and the two make their leisurely way to his office, stopping at each building along the way. For the most part, Richard is silent. As they near the saloon, they hear the sound of classical music being played on a piano. At the open door, Richard stops for a moment and sticks his head inside, "I like that one Bobby. What is it called?" Marion answers, "It's a Mendelssohn waltz, but I'm not sure which one", at the same time Bobby gives him the proper name for the piece of music. Richard asks Bobby, "Might I have a small bucket of beer for Mister Chin? We are going to play chess tonight." And then he turns to Marion and says, very quietly, "My, my, Miss Mannerly, I learn something new about you each time I see you", while from inside the saloon Bobby says that the sheriff should finish his rounds and he will bring the beer over to the office in a little while, when he sees Mister Chin arrive. As they walk toward the bank, then across the street, Marion asks, "Is this a usual chess night for you? And does everyone in town know about it?' "Yes, I'm afraid this is the highlight of the week for many people. So, you may have a number of chaperones, although few will be in the room with us. But that is good, occasionally someone else will come by the office to watch for a while, my defeat is becoming a spectator sport. But it is also the best way I can spend a little time talking with you and have no one doubt my intentions." Marion chuckles, hoping no one hears, but fears everything she does is being watched, she says quietly, "I believe I will need to consult my dictionary, but perhaps the word to use here is "devious"?" "Thank you, I feared you might want to use dishonest or sly, which I do not intend", Richard says as he opens his office door. When Mister Chin walks into the office, he says, "Teacher lady, come see sheriff loose? Chin have beer", as if it is a great treat for him. Marion raises her eyebrows at the small Chinese man and says, "You need not pretend. I know you can speak English as well, or better, than I do." After that, with the beer delivered, for the most part, there is silence for half an hour or so, in the sheriff's office, as Richard takes his time and Mister Chin watches the expressions change on the young lady's face, when one after another of Richard's chessmen are taken. Occasionally there is a short discussion on one topic or another and about midway through the game, the three of them talk about their favorite poets, while Mister Chin laments that they do not understand Chinese, as he has quite a repertoire of Chinese poems committed to memory. However, they do not translate well to English, and he becomes rather maudlin over their lack of understanding the nuances of the Chinese words as he tries to explain several small poems which have fewer than twenty words. When Richard admits defeat, the short Chinese man, after drinking the full pitcher of beer, is slightly tipsy. Mister Chin cackles his laughter and stumbles back to his laundry. Richard keeps the front office door open after Chin leaves, checks the back door, turns off the lamp and locks the front door before beginning his escort of the teacher back to her room, after which he will go to his own room above the bank. "I hope you have not been too bored, this evening," he says, as he takes her shawl from her and puts it around her shoulders. Marion replies, "Oh no, I had a wonderful time. I like Chin. He has an amazing memory to rattle off verse after verse of some ancient poetry." "Yes, he does", Richard agrees, and then his voice sounds sad, "Chin is not well, you know." "No, I did not know", Marion turns to look at him, surprise in her voice. "He has something wrong with his breathing. He says the dry climate here helps, but not enough to reverse the problem", he explains. "I have noticed he has grown weaker in the last couple of years." "Richard, how long have you been here, in this town I mean?" she asks. "Well, I have been sheriff for three years, so I guess about that long. I was hired away from a larger town. But this is a good place to be, lonely as it is." Marion asks, "How can you be lonely, everyone knows you, speaks to you, and they even watch you and your chess games." "Oh that part is true, but being lonely is a little different from being alone. Marion you are alone, are you lonely?" "I suppose, in some ways, I am lonely. As I told you, I am an orphan, or very nearly so. I can tell you about that some other time." "Why don't you tell me now? It is a nice evening and the walk to your room is far enough to give some time for the story", he responds. "If we go slowly, and I take extra time to check doors and locks I can spend just a few more minutes with you." "It is not such a long story. I was two years old. My parents left me with a neighbor. They took an afternoon to be together. It was their wedding anniversary. They took a small boat for a short time and did not return. The neighbor did not know where they went. She said nothing until the third day and by that time both of my parents had been buried in paupers graves. They would likely have been buried so, anyway, even had their names been known at the time. They had so few possessions in their rented rooms. The neighbor finally went through their things and found an old letter from my mother's uncle and she wrote him. But he did not want me and as she had other children, I was taken to a small school, managed by a benevolent Christian couple. A number of years later, I learned he sent an occasional donation, but I have never contacted him." "God, I want to hold you and comfort you", he says with vehemence, "but I dare not, for fear someone will see. Does it embarrass you to know that I want to do that for you?" "No, not really, I suppose that is an instance of the affection you spoke of the other day. Now that I think about it, I can begin to see what you meant. The couple was John Davidson and his wife, Mary. They were rather formal people, not given to demonstrations of emotion. And, as I listen to you speak of affection, I realize that I had little or no real affection as a child. Oh, I was very well cared for, there were always eight of us girls, with occasionally one or two more when a family situation prevented a girl from living at home. But the eight of us were all we had and we knew we were not a family. We were a classroom of girls, all very nearly the same age. We slept in our own narrow beds, in a long room, like a dormitory. Mary Davidson had been an orphan herself and wanted to give us more of a chance in life than she had, and training us to be teachers was her way of doing so." "This uncle of whom you spoke", Richard asks. "He did not want to have you as part of his family?" "I believe he was not a good man, I think that is the proper way to describe him. He gambled, drank rather heavily, and had no home, or if he did, it was with a woman, not necessarily a wife. From what Mary said, he would occasionally send a short note along with some money, perhaps when his gambling was more successful than at other times." Richard takes her elbow and tugs her between the last two buildings, before they get to the boarding house, very quietly, he says, "Come here", and pulls her into the darkness. "Please do not be offended. I will not harm you." He slowly pulls her into his arms and pushes her head against his chest, allowing her the freedom to push back if she wishes. "Just stand here for a moment. I will not do anything but hold you. I want you to know I feel affection for you. If you are comfortable doing so, you can put your arms around me and offer me some affection, too." After a few moments, he says, "Come, I must get you home. It does not take very long to check the windows between these buildings." When they are walking the last few steps to the gate, Marion says, "Now I understand. I believe I had a small fear of you. It is gone now. I am grateful for the affection you offered." He chuckles a little, but very softly, "If I understand such things, I also received and feel better for it." Richard says nothing further, not even after closing the gate, but tips his hat and walks back to climb the stairs to his room above the bank. Nor does Marion speak, but goes to her room, undresses for bed and does not even notice her tears falling as she pulls her nightgown over her head and gets into her bed. For several weeks, there are only minor conversations between Marion and Richard. And they nod when they see each other, or speak politely after church on Sunday. Several times he stops by the boarding house to exchange a few words in the late evening as he makes his usual round of checking doors and windows. Marion begins the cutting and sewing of her winter cloak. Richard takes a young man to the state capitol for a trial and sees he is delivered to the prison after being caught with six of a local rancher's cattle in a pen behind his house. Peter Adams seems to have gotten the message. He will occasionally call her Mary Ann and just as often calls her Miss Mannerly. The young widower marries his bother's sister, who comes to visit her sister. And Richard continues to loose every chess game to Mister Chin, while Mister Chin's health, slowly, almost imperceptibly, continues to decline. On the Wednesday evening, after Richard's trip to the capitol, he stops for a moment in front of Henderson's boarding house. Marion is sitting alone, with a lap full of material sewing tiny stitches along the side seam of the cloak. The material is so dark she needs the sunlight to see the thread. "Good evening Miss Mannerly. I see you are very industrious this evening." "Yes, Sheriff, I am making a cloak for winter. I believe the winters here get quite cold." "Yes ma'am they do. I shall play a game of chess with Mister Chin tonight. Would you care to watch his victory over a much lesser opponent?" Miss Mannerly "Yes I would. The light is beginning to fade and it is difficult to see my stitches. I will get my shawl and tell Mrs. Henderson where I am going." Marion watches the chess game, seeing Richard struggle to keep his chessmen on the board, defending his queen, as long as possible. But it is a loosing proposition, even though Mister Chin compliments him on a well fought battle. When Mister Chin stands to leave, he asks Marion how she is doing with the construction her cloak. She blushes and asks Mister Chin about the braided cord fastenings down the front of his shirt that hold the two sides together. He tells Marion and Richard about how the Chinese tie cords and decorate their homes with different knots having different meanings. Mister Chin sits down and begins to tell a story. From the beginning of time, a certain rock on the Mountain of Fruit and Flowers had been soaking up the goodness of nature and energy. One day this pregnant rock released a stone egg, and from it hatched a Stone Ape, who solemnly bowed to the Four Corners of the Earth, and then jumped off the rock to have fun. This was Monkey. He was high-spirited, egotistical and full of mischievous pranks. He was soon having a wonderful time as King of the Apes. This is how the Chinese came to revere the monkey. There was an old man, who lived alone on a mountain. He decided that he had been sad and alone for so long, he wanted a little fun in his life. So he decided to catch a monkey to be his friend. He left food, which a monkey from the trees came to eat, but the monkey escaped before the old man could catch him. The old man tried to put food in a box, but the monkey climbed into the box, ate the food, and then escaped. However, the old man discovered the monkey was very curious and determined. He took a glass jar with a small opening at the top and put small pieces of food in the bottom of the jar. The monkey stuck his paw down into the jar, pulled out the small pieces of food, one by one, ate them, and then ran away. The old man noticed that the monkey, once he had a small morsel of food in his paw, would not let go of it, he would mash the morsel of food and pull it out so he could eat it. One day, the old man took a length of cord and tied a knot around a small stone and dropped the knot into the jar along with several morsels of food. When the monkey came to eat, he snatched several pieces of the food and then grabbed the knot. However, with the knot in his hand, he could not get his paw out of the jar. But he was also stubborn and would not release the knot. The old man approached the monkey, holding out his hand with a small bit of food in the palm. The monkey was frightened but could not escape because he would not release the knot and the jar was too heavy for him to lift, so he used his other paw to reach for the food. The old man fed the monkey until he began to trust the man. When they had finally made friends, the old man broke the jar, took the knot out of the monkey's fist and released him from captivity. The monkey was so happy to be free and had come to love the old man that he decided to stay. They had a lot of fun and a good life together, the old man and his friend, the monkey. Mister Chin puts his hand into his pocket and withdraws a small silk bag, opens it and selects two coins, the same size. "Miss Mannerly, please make button holes at the top of your cloak, on both sides, just the size this coin will slip through. I will make you a monkey fist knot." When Marion holds out her hand for the coin, Mister Chin places one of the coins in her hand and says, "No blue fingers?" Marion says, "No the blue dye does not come off on my fingers, as I handle the material." Mister Chin laughs, says "Yes. See? Chin piss", cackles his laughter again, and then makes his way to his laundry, occasionally stopping to regain his balance before proceeding along the wooden walkway. While Marion holds the lantern and Richard locks the front door, he says, "I admire a woman's industry. Such a simple thing as a length of fabric can be made into clothing that is as much adornment as merely a covering. I am going to enjoy seeing the rich colors surround you. Mister Babbitt says we will have a hard winter. He says the moss on the tree trunks is lush and fuller than in previous years, which he says is a fair predictor of the snows." "Is that story of the tree moss really true, or just one of those stories old men use as something to speak of when they gather to escape their lonely existence?" Marion asks. Richard chuckles, and then looks around to see if they are being observed. "I do not know. I think of the words lonely and alone and wonder which of those apply." Marion looks up at him and sees him staring at the ground in front of them. "Do you mean which of them apply to you or to me?" He answers as if speaking to his boots. "I suppose I think of how they apply to each of us, at one time or another. I understand what the minister said last Sunday, about man not being created to exist alone. But I wonder some days, if being alone might be better than being with people you have no affection for. I believe I could spend a great many hours talking to you, leaning how your mind works and sharing my own words and thoughts with you. Yet, I can find great pleasure in a short walk beside you, from my office to your lodgings and leave you there, knowing I am alone and you are alone, but neither of us is lonely, simply because we have shared a little affection during that short walk." About two weeks later, when Richard walks by the boarding house one evening, Marion and Bertha Henderson are sitting on the front porch, so he stops to say a few words to the women. Mrs. Henderson asks, "Sheriff Robertson, I have a fresh cobbler I just removed from the oven to cool. Would you like some cobbler and a cup of coffee or a glass of milk?" "Yes ma'am, I would enjoy some of your cobbler." Then he turns to Marion and says, "When I first arrived here, Mrs. Henderson was one of the first people to invite me into their home. She served me some of her cobbler and I have felt welcome in this town ever since then." Bertha says, "Well, come on up here and sit down and I will fix the cobbler." She turns to Marion and says, "And you will have some too, Miss Marion?" Marion answers, "Yes, I will." Richard sits on the top step and looks up at the setting sun, "I am in the mood for some fresh fish and I would like to take you fishing. But perhaps it is not a good idea, unless I can find another woman who would also like to fish. Can you think of someone who might like to go?" Marion shakes her head and replies, "No, I cannot." "Then perhaps I will go fishing alone, and bring them to Mrs. Henderson to cook for me." "Yes, I'm sure she would do that for you." Richard looks down at the toes of his boots and says, "It is a pity that so many people have such small minds. Perhaps some day, small minds will grow, but I am not sure that the respect we give to women will benefit from the change. I will play chess with Mister Chin tonight and I feel a little more confident, would you care to watch, again?" Marion nods and replies, "Yes, I would enjoy that." After Bertha's delicious cobbler, Richard and Marion are walking to the Sheriff's office as he checks doors and windows. He stops for a moment at the general store and asks, "Did you get your cloak finished? I ask, because I can feel the cold weather coming." "Yes", she answers, "I am finished with the sewing, but I was thinking I would like to have a ribbon around the edge of the hood, so it will show less wear." Richard tells her, "I am looking forward to seeing you in the cloak, with the snow falling around you. I think you will look like a spirit coming out of the mist. Marion, do you think Mister Chin looks well?" "No, Richard, this is the wet part of the year and I fear he suffers this time of the year." When Mister Chin laughs his cackling laugh, both Richard and Marion hear his faint wheeze and it saddens them. When the game is over, and Richard has returned to good humor after his loss, Mister Chin reaches into his pocket and hands Marion the promised monkey fist knot. But it is actually two knots connected by a short cord, one knot for each button hole at the neck of her cloak. Mister Chin says, "You see, the two knots are two individuals, no beginning, no end, held together by a silken cord. They may try to pull away from the other, but when one pulls, the other follows. Such is the friendship of men and the love between a man and a woman." As Mister Chin makes his way to his laundry, Richard closes and locks the office and Richard returns Marion to her room. They walk around a large puddle in the street and he asks, "Do you believe a man would throw his coat or cloak across such a puddle, so a woman could cross without soiling her skirt?" He looks at Marion and when she shakes her head, he says, "Nor do I, instead I believe he would carry her across, just for the joy of feeling the warmth of her in his arms. Human beings do not do well, without warmth from another human. Many animals, particularly male animals, spend most of their time alone. I would not like to be one of those animals." For most of the remainder of the walk to the boarding house, they are both silent. As they near the gate, Richard says, "I regret that I am unable to hold your hand or kiss your cheek before I open the gate for you. Perhaps that will change one day, too." Marion stands in the dark, watching the lonely man walking down the street and wonders how he feels, having no one to talk to or be with on the nights other than a Wednesday when he plays chess with Mister Chin. Even after she is in her bed, she continues to think of Richard and how alone he is. Perhaps he does not know how badly he wants another human being around to speak to, or to listen to, as they speak. She wonders if he will ever look for the other half of his monkey fist knot. She goes to sleep with her questions unanswered. With school closed for the winter, on a very cold November afternoon, Sheriff Robertson stops at Bertha Henderson's Boarding House to see if Marion would, once again, like to be a spectator at his defeat in a chess game with Mister Chin. She accepts and he comes to get her shortly after dark, carrying a small lantern that lights them through a light mist, as he completes his rounds. When they arrive at the sheriff's office her hands and face are red from cold and he tells her to warm them by the stove while he gets the game board set up. He apologizes that he cannot leave the door open, but when Bobby delivers the pitcher of beer, Marion is standing by the stove and Richard is sitting in his chair, waiting for Mister Chin. They have been talking about their individual education. Bobby stands by the stove for a moment to warm up a little and asks Marion if she would like to come play the piano sometime, when the saloon is empty. When the weather is better he will move it out to the wooden walkway in front of the saloon, if she would consent to give a concert. She says she will think about it and asks if he would also be willing to play a few pieces he knows. The game tonight seems to last longer than usual and Marion notices that Mister Chin occasionally wheezes when he exhales. Midway through their game, he begins to tell the story of a swan and how the male swan finds a female swan for a mate. A young boy senselessly kills the female swan and Mister Chin describes the male swan's loneliness. He says he is like the male swan and tells about the loss of his wife. He says he understands the Christian principal of heaven and although he is not a Christian, he hopes there is a similar reunion with his wife in the Chinese heaven. As the game resumes Mister Chin lifts one of his chessmen to make a move and points to Marion's cloak and says, "You see, Chin piss", so of course Richard must have an explanation. Richard begins to describe what he knows of his own heritage, and finally pulls an ancient Scots tartan plaid from beneath his desk. He manages to resist Marion and Mister Chin's efforts to get him to demonstrate how the material is arranged and worn by the old clans. For a few minutes he speaks with such a heavy brogue that Marion and Mister Chin laugh so hard they can hardly breathe. Richard says he will show Mister Chin how to put it on and the thought of the small Chinese man in a kilt destroys Mister Chin's concentration so badly he makes a poor move, which Richard takes advantage of, but the game is so far advanced that he is unable or unskilled enough to win. After the usual hearty laughter of his victory, Mister Chin stumbles to his laundry and Richard begins to close up the office in preparation of walking Marion back to her room. He looks at her for a moment and says, "I wish I could keep you here, in the warmth, for the night." Marion responds, "Yes, me too, but I would not like to walk out of here in the morning to the looks of the town's leading citizens." Instead, he pulls her hood over her head, being careful not to muss her hair, folds his old plaid and arranges it around her shoulders. He picks up the lantern and hands it to her to hold while he locks the door, and then walks her home. When she tries to return the plaid, he tells her he will retrieve if at another time. Before leaving her at the gate, he says, "I wanted to hold at least one of your hands, to keep it warm, but perhaps I have another idea." Then he tips his hat and walks away, the lantern gently swinging as he takes one step after another away from her. It is winter, deepening winter, with occasional snows and growing colder, when Richard asks Marion how much of a risk is she willing to take, that he will do nothing to harm her or damage her reputation. She is reluctant, at first, to answer his question. Then he says he means her no harm, but the confines of the small town, his job and her reputation make it difficult for them to have more than a few minutes at a time to speak to each other, except for the times they might play chess or when he calls to take her to watch a game. And those times are not private or unobserved. He adds that he fears to do that too often. They dare not spend too long in conversation on the walkway in front of the general store and as he turns to walk away, he tells her to think about it. The next Sunday, they walk home from church, a few steps behind Mrs. Henderson who is rushing to get Sunday's mid-day meal served to her tenants. Richard and Marion walk slower and Mrs. Henderson is soon out of hearing. Richard explains he needs to go to the capitol for a few days and he suggests that she tell Bertha Henderson she is considering going east to look for a few books for the school and to visit friends. She may be gone as long as a month and will likely not return until after Christmas, perhaps as late as the end of January. He adds that he will explain more on Wednesday. Wednesday, when he stops to ask her if she would like to watch his defeat again, she consents and Bertha Henderson asks how much longer he is going to allow Chin to beat him at chess. He says he is getting better, but is not quite up to Chin's level of skill. When he calls for Marion, he presents her with a rabbit fur lined muff which he says he asked an old Indian man to make for her. She has his old plaid folded over her arm. She returns it, saying she was able to reweave several of the small holes, but had to sew the large tear in one corner, but managed to do so with few of her stitches showing. Mister Chin and Richard play their chess game while Marion and Mister Hanson, the banker, watch. Mister Hanson does not play chess, but wants to learn and interrupts frequently. By the time Mister Chin is cackling in victory, Mister Hanson is in his bedroom, preparing to crawl into his warm bed, beside his wife. Before leaving, Mister Chin says, "bank man, not smart for chess", and the small Chinese man cackles then stumbles and weaves back to his laundry. As Richard arranges Marion's cloak around her shoulders and carefully places her hood over her head then hands her the muff, he says, "I have a sister in the capitol." Marion walks through the door and holds the lantern while he locks the door, then tests to make sure the lock if fully engaged. "I did not know you have any relatives living near here." "Yes, I know. That is the problem, as I see it", he replies. "I can never say more than a few words to you, without my intentions being misunderstood." With their backs to the wind and a few snow flakes falling, they walk down the wooden walkway to its end and he holds her elbow as they go down the steps through snow covered dirt to the wagon wheel rutted, dirty snow in the road. "I would like to pick you up and carry you through this mush and muck. But, more than that, I would like you to meet my sister. She is very special." Marion responds, "I think I would like to meet your sister." They stand in the center of the road while he holds the lantern up high and they watch the light snow falling through its light. "It is beautiful when it falls like that. I always grow tired of walking through it and seldom take the time to appreciate the beauty. Will you spend some time with my sister, in her home?" "I would enjoy that, if she does not mind the company." "She writes me that she would appreciate getting to know you. I must ask your pardon for telling her of you, but I felt I must, before I asked her to entertain you." They step carefully for a few moments before he continues. "I regret that it would not be prudent for me to take you to her, as I feel would be proper. But if you will trust me," he removes a letter from his pocket and folds it against his chest then puts it inside her muff, "that is an invitation from Claire." Marion looks up at him and says, "I think I was ready to be angry that you would write to her about me, but now I'm glad you did." He looks down at her and says, "There are snowflakes on your eyelashes. Marion, do you realize how beautiful you are? Yes, I feared you might feel that way, but I felt it was a necessity. If you will take the train to the capitol, you can get a small buggy ride to her home. It is not expensive and I will go to whatever expense makes you feel comfortable." "Richard, it is not necessary for you to pay. I want to get away from here for a short while, too. I feel enclosed, almost claustrophobic, with the weather and seeming to be observed all the time." "A few days after you arrive, I will be there, in the capitol, for almost a week. Do you have a nice dress? I would like to take you to dinner one evening. I think I would not like to live where the weather is the same, all the time. I understand there are islands in the Pacific with only minor changes from the first of the year to the end of the year. It would be dull and monotonous." "Yes, Richard, I have a very nice dress, which I will pack in my bag. I agree with you, however, about the weather. When it is cold I long for the summer and when it finally arrives and the heat builds, I almost beg for a snowfall. I don't know if that has something to do with being a human person of the female gender, but probably so." As he opens the gate and closes it after her, he says, "No, Marion, I do that, too and then feel a little humbled by the thought that I am dissatisfied with God's plan for this earth and the people who dwell here. If you can leave here in about a week, you can have a week with Claire before I arrive. Her letter will explain more." "Yes, I can do that. Good evening, I will see you at church on Sunday." "Yes, good night", he replies. Then she watches as he walks through the whiteness of the snow with the lantern spreading a small circle around him, which is broken only by his shadow.