Chapter 24: Dannie in Hopewing

~A star does not compete with other stars around it; it just shines~. —Matshona Dhliwayo

Dannie’s new cousin, Sophie, was a girl full of ideas and action. Dannie discovered this the next morning when she presented herself at the reverend’s house right after breakfast.

“Come along, Dannie,” she said in a bright voice. “The day is young, and there is so much for us to do. Call Annie to come with us, and I’ll show you around the town. There ain’t much to see, of course. Hopewing can’t compare with New York—but I’ll show you what little we have to boast of. As we go around, we’ll have the opportunity to maybe meet some of yer future students and their parents.”

The three girls were soon going about the town, with Sophie pointing out the different buildings and giving all the stories behind them.

They had just come out of the post office when they were greeted by a boy of about ten or eleven years of age. He was dressed in dirty trousers and a faded shirt, with a dusty cap on his head. He glanced up at Dannie, hostility in his eyes.

“So, yer the new school teacher, are ya?” he asked.

“Scotty, manners!” Sophie barked at him.

“I am,” Dannie replied in an even voice. “And who might you be?”

“Scotty Jenkins. Momma told me I was gonna go to yer school, but I ain’t.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think it’s up to you. As a young child, your duty is to do what your mother tells you.”

“You don’t want me, miss.”

“I don’t? And why is that?”

‘Cause I’m the bestest spitter, and I’ll spit all over the place.”

Dannie frowned at the boy. “Master Jenkins, whether or not you go to my school is entirely up to your mother. I can, however, promise you this. If you dare to spit in my classroom, I’ll make you regret it.”

Scotty’s dark eyes glared up defiantly at her. He took a deep breath and suddenly spat at her. The boy was not joking when he had said he was the best spitter in the town. His spit flew like a little bullet and hit her right in the eye.

“Scotty Jenkins!” Sophie reached over and rapped the boy on the head. Annie pulled out her handkerchief and gave it to Dannie.

“And I ain’t gonna do nothin’ neither but ~that~ at yer school, if you make me go!”

The blood rushed to Dannie’s face, and she took a deep breath. Reaching over, she grabbed the boy by the ear. “Spitting in my face was bad enough,” she said in such a severe voice that even Sophie and Annie took a step back. “But what came out of your mouth after that was far worse. You ~ain’t gonna do nothin’ neither but that~. What on earth is that even supposed to mean, Master Jenkins? Apart from no manners, you have no ability to speak properly, either. Where is your mother, young man?”

“Lemme go!” He struggled under her grasp but she held him firm.

“Lemme? Lemme? Is that even English?” she retorted. “Where do I find this boy’s mother?” Dannie turned to her companions.

“I think she was over at the shop,” Annie replied.

Straightening her shoulders, Dannie marched off toward the general store, dragging the boy behind her. Sophie and Annie followed. Folks in the street stopped to watch the procession. Two people in particular paused with great interest.

Sheriff Grant was on his way with Deputy Brown to put Wild Tom on the mail coach that would take him to Clearbrook. From there, he would get on a train that would take him to Yuma.

“Seems like Miss Preston got her hands on someone else,” Wild Tom said.

Grant paused. “That is Miss Preston dragging Scotty by the ear?”

“That’s her.”

Deputy Brown let out a low chuckle. “Wonder what sort of thing that rascal did this time. He’s always getting into trouble.”

At that moment, poor Mrs. Jenkins came rushing over to the scene, having been told by one too many people of what was going on.

She was a tired-looking woman in a faded dress, her red hair gathered up in a sloppy bun. Dannie stopped, let go of Scotty’s ear, and gave the woman a smile in greeting. “Mrs. Jenkins, I am so sorry to disturb you, but we have had a small incident involving your son.”

“Scotty.” Mrs. Jenkins frowned at him. “What have you gone and done now?”

“Nothin’!” the boy muttered, rubbing his sore ear.

“He spat in my eye and then told me that he ~won’t do nothing neither but that at the school. ~In all honesty, I have no idea whatsoever what he meant by those words, but I assume it’s some sort of threat.”

Mrs. Jenkins drew a deep, embarrassed breath. “Scotty Jenkins, yer pa would be ashamed of you if he were still alive.”

“I ain’t going to no school, Momma,” the boy replied. “I’ll stay and help you.”

“If you want to help your mother, don’t make things difficult for her,” Dannie said, but her tone was kind. “Mrs. Jenkins, despite this rebellious behavior, I am more than happy to take Scotty into my class. After all, just that one sentence out of his mouth shows he needs school desperately.

“However, I do not care for a student who threatens and causes trouble, so I am here to warn you ahead of time that, should he behave like this in the school—which, by the way, is also the church—I will deal with it accordingly.

“I would have washed his mouth out with soap. However, folly is bound in the heart of a child, and not in his mouth—so it is the heart I must deal with. Should I have any problems from him, I will keep him after school and have him memorize a portion of the Book of Common Prayer. And he will not be allowed to leave until he commits that portion to memory.”

“The uh...the what?”

“The Book of Common Prayer. It is the liturgical book used by churches of the Anglican Communion.”

“But um…Miss Preston,” Mrs. Jenkins said with a hint of pride in her voice. “Can he not memorize something else? The Jenkins have always been Baptists, after all.”

“Then you had better make sure that this son of yours behaves during class, or I assure you that, by the end of the term, he will be Church of England.”

Poor Miss Jenkins stared at Dannie in absolute horror. Sheriff Grant let out a low cough, trying to hide his laugh. Miss Preston sure knew how to hit where it hurt the most.

“I won’t memorize nothin’!” Scotty retorted.

Dannie laughed at these words.

“Why is it that the entire town has this obsession with speaking in double negatives? Scotty, my boy, my dear ignorant, uneducated boy, when you say you will not memorize nothing, you have actually told me you are going to memorize ~something~. You gave me your word; there is no going back on it. Unless, of course, you are not a man.”

“I am too a man!”

“Then I will see you on Monday. And no tricks, or we shall have a splendid time in the afternoon. Just you and me and the Book of Common Prayer.”

Mrs. Jenkins sniffed loudly and, grabbing the boy by the arm, dragged him away. “You will mind yer manners!” she warned. “Don’t have yer father rolling over in his grave, seeing his Baptist son turning Anglican just because he couldn’t behave!”

After a few seconds of silence, Grant’s deep voice spoke out.

“A wild woman with a frying pan.”

Dannie looked up at these words and, for the first time, noticed Wild Tom, the sheriff, and the deputy.

Sheriff Grant was by far the most outstanding of the three.

The large black hat on his head bore a silver star that glistened in the sunlight. He wore a dark brown shirt and a red waistcoat, on which was also pinned a silver star. In his holster, he had two six-shooters, one on each side. His brown trousers were tucked into high, brown leather boots.

Grant stood a head taller than both Wild Tom and Deputy Brown. Despite his imposing figure, his light-brown eyes sparkled, and there was a smile on his clean-shaven face.

“I beg your pardon?” Dannie coughed out.

“Though she be little, yet she is fierce,” Grant replied, remembering what Jake had said and beginning to understand what the cowboy had meant.

“Howdy, Miz Preston.” Wild Tom gave a small bow.

“Ah, Mr. Tom, I see you are still in Hopewing.” Dannie turned her attention to the outlaw.

“They’re sending me off right now,” Wild Tom informed her. “But I’ll be back with coals of fire. I’ll have to see if you’ve converted Scotty to Church of England, after all.”

Dannie let out a small, embarrassed laugh. “For the sake of his mother, I should hope not.”

”Well, in that case you can convert me.”

A touch of color came to Dannie’s cheeks at these brash words, and Sheriff Grant gave Tom a rough shake. “Mind yer manners, Wild Tom!”

“Either way,” Dannie said, “I do hope you will be able to reflect on your life choices, Mr. Tom, and come to some good conclusions. I shall be praying for you.”

“Thank you, Miss Preston. I’ll treat ya to a feast when my time is up.”

She gave him a small nod and the hint of a smile. Deputy Brown led the outlaw away.

But Sheriff Grant was not in a hurry to go anywhere.