Over the course of the next several days, odd things continued to happen at the Piper house. Although my Mom expressly forbade me to go visiting until my homwork was done, I still managed to at least watch, and frequently help, as the whole family set about transforming their little piece of land. I discovered that mornings were for school, and afternoons for work. On Saturdays, as I had first met them, Conor and Simon and Miriam all seemed to simply jump back into school: Conor wanted to go to College to become an Archaeologist, so he had led the hole-digging project out front, now completed and catalogued. Simon, meanwhile, liked working with his hands and was thinking of going to something called "machinist's school," so he dragooned Conor and Miriam and me into helping him fix the big grey-and-red tractor which rolled off a trailor the next Wednesday. Miriam, for her part, said she wanted to be a veterinarian. Mrs. Piper was especially proud of Miriam's choice; I remember her beaming that, with such a profession, her daughter would be sure to catch herself a gentle and intelligent husband. Mr. Piper was glad to have someone around the house to help with the various animals, which started arriving on Thursday morning.
By Friday afternoon, the Piper's entire property had been rearranged, or so it seemed. The land was on a gully, sloping downwards towards a small river and then heading uphill again in a long, wide strip. The house itself sat somewhat downhill from the "top" of the property, which ended about a hundred yards behind. Across the river, Mr. Piper had used the tractor to throw up a pile of dirt that looked as big as a house, with a flat space carved below it into the side of the hill. Someone had started planting dozens or hundreds of ten-foot Cedar trees along what I took to be the edges of the property; the Piper's land was by now half encircled by the prickly evergreens. Above the house was what had once been a large barn which Mr. Carrigan had used for a garage and for storage. It was now inhabited: the Pipers had installed a trio of cows, four horses, and numerous goats, sheep, and chickens in the tumbledown old building, which Simon and Mr. Piper were setting about repairing in the afternoons. The Piper's only car, a large Buick station-wagon, parked in the aisle of the barn; in front of it were parked two carts, one two-wheeled and one four.
As a nine-year-old I naturally found all this most splendid. But even I wasn't prepared for my Mother's reaction the first time the Pipers went shopping.
"Do you know," she said one evening over supper, "Who I ran into at the supermarket?"
"No," said my father, "Who?"
"Mrs. Piper." My mother said, an odd look on her face. "And the entire family as well. And John, you simply will not believe it. Mrs. Piper, that sweet lady, was carrying a GUN in the supermarket."
My father's eyes grew huge. "What?"
"Yes, and her husband as well!" My mother said in frustration. "AND her eldest son!"
I had no idea what to make of this. I didn't -think- I'd ever seen a gun in the Piper house, much less seen anyone carrying one...
"Was there a problem?" My father asked anxiously.
"No..." my mother said, "they were very nice, just like they always are. But then, I saw them loading up as I was taking my groceries to the car, and you won't believe it, but they were using -horses-."
I blinked. My father looked puzzled. "Horses?"
"Yeah!" I said. "They have four of them, and Conor says it's so they don't have to pay the Highwaymen."
"Well," my mother resumed, "They had all four of them today, and two buggies too! They loaded up the big...there! There they are now!"
My mother pointed frantically out the window of our kitchen. Sure enough, ambling along the road, were the Piper family and their rolling stock. Mr. Piper rode beside the two-wheeled buggy on his big red horse, talking to Simon and Miriam as they rolled along. Behind him, driving the big four-wheeled cart with its' colourful paintjob, were Mrs. Piper and Simon. The cart itself was loaded down with things in bags and boxes, a huge amount of groceries, more than my mom could fit in the van with the seats down! And sure enough, I could see that Mr. and Mrs. Piper, and Conor as well, had guns on their belts.
My father seemed at once alarmed and amused. "Where's the covered wagon and cowboy hats?" he quipped. I was shocked to see the little procession break apart at the Piper's gate; Mr. Piper and the big cart headed down the road onto their land, while the little two-wheeled turned into our driveway! I saw Simon jump off and run up the path, knocking on the door after a pause.
"Well, aren't you going to let Dan'l Boone in?" my father asked when my mother hesitated.
"But what if he has a..."
"Oh, for Heaven's sake..." My father rolled his eyes and marched to the door, where he was confronted by Simon and Miriam.
"G'afternoon, Mr. Adams!" Miriam said. "We just stopped by to invite you and your family over for supper tomorrow night. We thought we'd thank you for letting Charlie help out so much!"
My father, now joined by my mother, seemed puzzled. "But Charlie likes going over there, and he's learned so much..."
"And besides." My mother said, "I don't think we can come."
"Why not?" I asked. "Mrs. Piper's a really good cook."
"It's going to be a bit of an event." Simon said, with what I was coming to recognize as his usual dry understatement. "Mom's invited a bunch of her family, and Pop's got a few friends coming in from out of town to help warm the house. We were hoping you'd join us."
My mother looked taken aback. "Well..."
My father rolled his eyes again. "What my wife means to say, Simon, is that she's not sure she wants Charlie in a house with guns in it."
Simon looked puzzled. Miriam cocked an eyebrow and said with undisguised curiosity, "What, yours doesn't?" I noticed that she looked past my parents and spoke directly to me. I felt very proud; grownups almost never ask nine-year-olds questions unless you're in trouble, after all. I shook my head, somehow feeling vaguely embarassed.
The moment of oddness passed, and my father took charge again with a slight fluster. "Well, um...Simon, Miriam, tell your parents we'll be there. Should we bring food, dessert?"
Miriam giggled. "Oh Lord no, Mom and all her relatives are going to start cooking early in the morning, and the men are going to kill two sheep and two goats and a few chickens before the party really starts."
My mother blanched slightly, but I remember thinking about the size of the sheep and goats in the Piper's barn...how many people were they expecting? It didn't occur to me until I was much older that it had been the food potential of the animals in question which had first struck me, rather than the presumably unpleasant transitory stages between hoof and plate. Miriam had gone out of her way to praise the meat qualities of their livestock, I recall; I now suppose she was preparing me for it, knowing the party was coming up.
A few moments later, my father shut the door and my mother turned on him, spluttering.
"What are you thinking, John!? Those people walk around with guns, I don't want Charlie going over there ever again!"
"Oh hush for a minute, will you? I've had a pistol in the night-stand since our wedding night, you know that."
"But you don't carry it around in public, John! You don't make your daughter and wife cover their hair!"
"Oh for Christ's sake, Muriel, they're Christians, remember? They're not terrorists! Besides, how will it look to them if we reject their invitation when they're laying on something so nice? What will the neighbors think? What will Charlie think?"
"I don't know, John, but I don't want him going over there. Those people carry guns, they homeschool their kids...they're WIERD, John!"
"Muriel, I am not having this arguement with you. Charlie and I will go to the party tomorrow and meet the rest of Simon and Miriam's family. You can come, or not, if you like. I think you're over-reacting, and I think you're being closed-minded about this. They seem nice enough, and I see no reason to cut Charlie off from his friends. Have you -seen- his report-card?"
My father gestured to the envelope on the counter. I knew what it held.
"John, I am not..."
"No, Muriel, I am not. I am not going to talk about this while you're angry. Remember what Dr. Sexton said last week?"
At this point I got the notion that I had become a piece of the scenery, rather than a boy, and made my exit. I didn't quite understand what was going on, but I adored my father for stading up for the Pipers. I retreated to my room, undressed, and crawled into bed with the copy of "Treasure Island" that Simon had lent me. He'd said he'd loved it when he was my age. Somewhere around the time Jim fell asleep in the barrel of apples, I dropped off as well.
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I was awakened by my father, who shook me gently at about ten the next morning. "C'mon, Little Man, time to roll out." He said. "The party's getting started next door; Simon and Miriam are here."
I shot out of bed as soon as my brain processed the words, all thoughts of Saturday morning cartoons banished from my world. I dressed quickly in clean but serviceable clothes, and followed by father out the door.
To say that the party was getting started was an understatement. I could see a column of greyish smoke rising from near the house, and a knot of men milling around the barn. The property was now totally encircled with cedar trees, with only a wide gated gap through which you could easily see. The cows were milling around in the open and the horses as well. All along the road there were cars parked, along with several other horse-drawn carts, buggies, and wagons. As we crossed the road and made our way through the gate and into the yard, I could see several other people setting up tables and hauling big boxes over to a flat place down the hill a little from the house. More tables, these ringed with chairs and covered by a white pavillion, were already sitting next to one of the big oaks out front.
Mrs. Piper came up and greeted us, wearing her usual jeans and button-down shirt with her shawl, which flared in brilliant red and gold and black. She was hurriadly wiping her hands and she jogged up and shook my father's hand and mine, leading us towards the house.
"John, it's so good to finally meet you, I'm sorry your wife couldn't come...it must be that stomach bug that's going around, I had a touch of it myself last week before we got here. Now, the men are just getting supper killed, so lunch is a bit of a do-it-yourself affair; soup and sandwiches and such, but I hope you'll find something you like."
From my previous visits, I had some idea of what a "do-if-yourself" lunch at the Piper house usually entailed, and I was not to be disappointed later in the day. I kept my mouth shut, however, wondering how my father would react.
"The shooting match will start whenever enough people decide they're ready, so don't be afraid to suggest it, and I think the Miller boys are going to start a round-robin wrestling tournament or something in a little bit, they usually do. And Senior Vasquez and his sons will probably try to get a soccer match going as well, though I usually just watch those because I like to see Senior Vasquez try to play football after a few too many shots of Tequila. Last time he fell down and broke his ankle, but he'll just not stop on days like this."
My father and Mrs. Piper wandered off, Mrs. Piper still chattering a mile a minute. I slipped away to find Simon and Conor, who I knew would be helping by the barn. Just as I drew up, I heard a series of sharp cracking bangs, all at once, as if somone had dropped four hammers on a stone floor at the same time. I got to the barn and discovered Mr. Piper, his sons, and a fourth man stringing two sheep and two goats up by the legs, their bellies slit and empty in an instant. Beside each man was a pistol, gleaming in the morning sun, and I understood at once that the animals had all been shot in the head at the same instant. A few minutes later, butchered and skinned, they were passed off to other men, who hurried them off towards the house. Others followed, rubbing their hands and talking excitedly. I noticed that Miriam had joined the group, and was in the process of cleaning up the piles of organs. Like her mother, she wore a red-black-and-gold scarf over her hair and shoulders, and I had noticed the colours on other things as well.
"Take a look at this, Charlie." She said, extending a bloody hand, "this is the sheep's heart...look." She picked up one of the skinning knives and slit the heart across. "It's got four chambers, just like I showed you in my biology book." She was right; I could see it plainly. "What's that?" I said, pointing to another organ. It, with another like it, had been set carefully aside from the bucket which held the rest. Miriam grinned. "Those are the sheep's stomachs. Papa's going to make Haggis from his grandma's recipie."
"You EAT it?" I said, shocked. "The stomach!?"
"And some other bits as well." Miriam said, smiling at me. "Don't worry, it's really good. I promise. Now c'mon, Charlie, help me clean up and then we'll go get ready for the shooting match."
I helped her clean up the piles of organs, seperating the stomachs, hearts, and lungs of the sheep from everything else after she showed me what they looked lke. We gathered everything up into string bags and carried it towards the house, and I was pleased to find that I did not vomit, freak out, or otherwise act like I knew so many of my classmates would have. They had already expressed astonishment to learn of the horses and tractor and house; wait until they heard about this! As we worked, I asked Miriam something that had been bothering me since the night before.
"Miriam...how come your Mom and Dad and Conor carry guns?"
"Well," Miriam said, "Sometimes there are bad people in the world, right? Robbers, and people like that, right?"
I nodded. I knew about robbers.
"And sometimes the Police can't help you, or won't help you. So you have to be able to help yourself."
I nodded. It made sense, but..."But aren't the Police supposed to help people?" I asked. My uncle Tommy was a Policeman, and he said he helped people all the time. I believed him; I liked uncle Tommy.
"Well, they're supposed to. And somtimes they do, but..." She said, helping me heave the string bags of organs onto a wide, flat wooden table under an awning. A machine with a crank was bolted to the side, and as I set the bags of organs down I saw Mr. Piper coming up rubbing his hands.
"Is that the goodies, Mir? Good...good morning, Charlie! How are you enjoying the party?" I was surprised to see that he was, indeed, carrying a pistol on his belt. I'd never noticed it before.
"Yes, Sir." I said, remembering my good manners. I couldn't help staring at the gun, though. Miriam must have caught my eyes, because she piped up to her father without missing a beat.
"Charlie was asking about your gun, Papa." She said.
"Was he now?" Mr. Piper asked, looking down at me. "Would you like to see my gun, Charlie? You can if you want to and your Papa says it's allright."
I nodded.
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Topic: There Goes The Neighborhood: Ch2 Up (Read 2723 times)