In Sacramento With Aunt Polly

Aunt Lou had told him that Aunt Polly would be wearing pink. It was her favorite color and was a large part of her wardrobe. Harley had no trouble spotting her. It seemed like nearly everyone else on the boarding platform was dressed in black, brown, or gray. She looked like a single flower in a bare garden. She was beaming at him as she approached, but he could hardly muster a grim grin. He was fearful she would know something was terribly wrong right away and it would ruin their first meeting. She was so special to his mother, and now he had to bring this disaster to their brief visit.

“Harley, dear, it is so wonderful to finally meet you!” she gushed, giving him an arms-wide-open embrace. He hugged her back, and as they parted, she looked at him quizzically. “Are you not feeling well, Harley?”

“I’m so sorry, Aunt Polly. I let something horrible happen on the train, and I am feeling awful about it. It’s a mess now, and it just happened about an hour or so ago, and I’m angry and mad at myself and I really don’t want it to spoil my visit, but I don’t know what to do at all,” Harley rambled on as he held her hands in his. “I’m just so sorry.”

“My goodness, I don’t know what to say. What are you talking about, dear?” She stepped back just a little bit and looked up at him.

“I left my suitcase on my seat and stepped out of the car at the last stop. When I came back, it had been stolen. My jacket, my clothing, and all the money I earned at Uncle Gene’s. It’s all gone,” he confessed. “It’s all my fault.”

“My word! How awful. Did you tell anyone?”

“The conductor took all the information, and relayed it back to Susanville, where it happened, but he thinks there is little that can be done. It was probably an experienced thief. I can’t believe that fella sat next to me almost all the way from Chelan. We didn’t speak much, but he had no reason to do this to me,” Harley explained. He felt so naïve. “I guess I appeared to be an easy victim. And I suppose I was.”

“I’ll tell you what,” said his great aunt, “Let’s get back to my house, have something to eat, and try to figure this out.” She tugged at his arm and guided him away from the train. He followed her through the station and to her car.

It was a nice gray Ford. Really clean and shiny. She offered to let him drive, but since she knew better where she was going, he declined. He thought maybe he could see more of the sights if he was not driving. Plus, he was still having difficulty thinking of much else than being robbed, so he would be a distracted driver. Harley had not driven much in the city, either. Most of his road experience was on dirt roads or in the small town of Grimes, having only driven in Des Moines three or four times. He was definitely not ready for the streets of the capital city of California!

Aunt Polly’s house was a white cottage with a red-tiled roof. The yard was bursting with colorful flower beds that his mother would have loved. The driveway was crushed white rock. The inside was welcoming and there were a lot more windows than there were in the replacement farmhouse they had built after the fire. Someday, he would make sure his parents had a really beautiful home like this, he thought.

She ushered him into the sunny front room. It was nearly four o’clock in the afternoon, so she said that a piece of pie and a cup of tea was in order. Harley took a few minutes to look around the room as Aunt Polly went to the kitchen to prepare his treat. It was tidy and organized. His great aunt did have a large stack of books and magazines piled next to what was obviously her reading spot, so she was definitely related to his mother. Other than that conglomeration, everything else was quite symmetrical and well-appointed. The furniture and wall decorations were floral and color-coordinated. Harley was no expert of décor, but it clearly reminded him of the tasteful rooms he had seen in some of the magazines that Betty sometimes brought over to show his mother. Betty was somewhat into trying to be more modern in the decorating of her house. Lena’s house was functional and everything had a purpose. There were not many frills in his upbringing. He enjoyed the looks of Aunt Polly’s house, but decided his home in Iowa was more suitable for his taste.

The windows in this house really made the difference. It was almost like he was sitting outside. That was probably the intended effect and he did appreciate that part. He usually wasn’t much for sitting around inside.

Aunt Polly returned with pie and tea, as well as a plate for herself. It was served on one of those little oval carved-glass trays with a matching cup, like he had seen the ladies at church teas use, or like they put out on the cake table at the graduation party he had attended at the church in Grimes. His mother owned nothing like these and he was surprised his great aunt had her own set. He thought they were just used at larger gatherings. Pretty fancy, but of course Aunt Polly was a widow who had inherited good money, so she could afford special things like this.

“I made the pie myself, Harley. Do you like it?”

“It’s a delicious pie, ma’am. As good as my mother’s, and that’s darned good,” he replied.

“Well, thank you for that, Harley. That’s quite a compliment, because Lena does make delicious pie,” Polly answered. “Are you feeling a little better?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Harley ventured. “I am very disappointed in myself, and I don’t know what I am going to do, but I do dread telling my parents what has happened. I want them to know, but I don’t want them to find out. That doesn’t make any sense, does it? I’m so sorry to come here in these circumstances. I thought this would be a grand visit and then I would get on the train to Iowa and be college-bound. I have gone through a lot of difficulty to earn that money. It’s quite a story, and now it’s all for nothing.”

“Listen,” Aunt Polly spoke firmly but quietly. “This is bad, I will admit. It is hard to hear and you are clearly so unhappy. I understand. Gene told me how hard you worked and also some of the very difficult times you had just getting to Chelan. Especially with that friend of yours who fell off your horse and died. That must have been terrible. I understand, but I can only imagine a little bit of the disappointment and loss you are feeling.”

“I would give anything to get my money back, Aunt Polly.”

“I could replace it for you, Harley,” she replied.

“Oh no, we can’t do that. I mean, that is very generous, but I want the money that I earned to pay for college. I cannot just have someone give it to me. Thank you so much, but I never intended to impose on you like that. I can’t.”

“Of course, you can. I am family, Harley,” Aunt Polly insisted.

Harley was just as insistent. “No, just plain no,” he stated. “I will find a way to earn it again when I get home. There is always a way to earn money if you really need to.”

Aunt Polly looked at him for what seemed a whole minute. He had to look down at his pie. Then she told him how she admired him, and she knew his parents had ‘raised him right’. She told him there were long bread lines in downtown Sacramento, and really no jobs here. Almost 90,000 people lived in Sacramento and she was one of the lucky ones. The way the economy was, her money wasn’t worth much, but she could get through all this and had no desperate need like so many people. She offered to drive him around and show him, but he declined.

“I have seen enough struggle,” Harley explained. “Let’s just get to know each other. Maybe you can tell me some stories about my mother and father, if you like. Or, tell me about how you came to live in California, all the way from South Dakota. I really just need to relax and figure out what to do when I get home. We have two more days to get acquainted, so let’s just do that.” He hoped she would not be offended and respect his desire to just try to take it a bit easy.

Aunt Polly was sweet and certainly seemed to understand. He had a comfortable bedroom to himself, with a wonderful east-facing sunny window. Waking up in that room reminded Harley of his parent’s bedroom. His father had always told Lena how he liked seeing the sun come up every morning right away. Harley missed his parents badly, the most since he had left Iowa. He figured he had just been too busy before now, and it seemed odd that he was so anxious to finally be home again, while at the same time dreading having to face them and tell them about his stolen college money. He tried not to think of it too much, but it inevitably creeped into his thoughts several times a day.

Aunt Polly was a delightful hostess. They went fishing once, but she was the only one who caught anything. Harley made the excuse that he was out of practice and vowed to her that he would catch one next time. She also regaled him with stories of his mother as a young girl on the farm in South Dakota. He learned more details of their life as neighbors living in their sod houses and toiling to scrape out an existence on the bleak South Dakota farms of their parents. Aunt Polly obviously had the same level of adoration of the old draft horses as his mother did. Harley felt blessed to have such a large family with a strong work ethic. It gave him encouragement that he would find a way to regain his money for school.

Her version of how his parents met at the train station in Des Moines differed considerably from his mother’s tale. Aunt Polly was not as sure of the “love at first sight” as Lena was. Polly saw a pretty rough-looking farm guy on that boarding platform, and Lena saw her true love. It turned out that both women were right, Harley told her, and she did have to agree with that.

The pair ventured out one more time in her Ford, so Polly could show him the state capitol. There was no way for them to avoid seeing Sacramento’s astounding “Hooverville”, however. It was large and sprawled for many acres across a hillside not far from downtown. It was full of tents, crudely-built shelter shacks, and hundreds of homeless folks. She avoided driving right along the side of it but got plenty close for Harley to get the feeling of dire poverty that rose up from it and hung thickly over the entire area.

Harley rode along silently for a while, then he spoke up. “I will not be like that, and I will not allow my parents to be like that,” he firmly told his great aunt. “I told you about my plan to own my own business, to help my parents, and to have a car just like Mr. Flynn. I mean it, with every bone in my body. I will be successful, no matter what.”

“Well, I know you don’t mean, ‘No matter what,’ dear. You will work hard, be honest, and gain your fortune in a way that will make us all proud.” Harley straightened up, smiled at her, and Aunt Polly continued, “I hate to bring this up, but we have not spoken of it for quite a while since you arrived. Have you given more thought about where your college money will come from?”

“Yes, I have, but I will keep the details to myself. I’m sorry to seem secretive. My ideas are still working around in my head. I have some people, like Uncle Lynn and Mr. Flynn, who I think I might speak to about this when I get home. I’m sure my mother will keep you posted, since you know all about this now. I truly appreciate all the accommodations, delicious food, and the pleasant time you have helped me have during my visit here. I’m going to be sad to leave tomorrow. Do you know what time my train leaves?” Harley inquired.

“Ten o’clock sharp, in the morning. I have a canvas valise you may take your things in, dear. Please keep it,” offered Aunt Polly.

“Thank you so much and thank you for getting me an extra change of clothes. Are you sure you don’t want the valise back? I have imposed on you quite a bit already.”

She insisted, “Please take it to the university with you, Harley. That would please me very much, really,”

Harley gave her a smile. Her kindness was so comforting as he continued to contemplate telling his parents about his disappointing loss.

They drove back to Aunt Polly’s house and Harley spent the rest of the afternoon doing some yard work for her. It felt good to have chores to do. He wanted to stay busy and he was pleased to be able to help her out. Her yard was small but had several different beds of flowers in the front that needed weeding and a bank of bushes in the backyard that needed trimming. She brought him out a glass of lemonade just as he finished, so he was sure she had been watching him from inside the house.

“I’m going to write your mother and ask her if I can borrow you for yardwork more often,” joked Aunt Polly. “Your folks sure have taught you to work hard. Uncle Gene told me what a go-getter you were, but I had no idea! This work would have taken one of my local yard men a couple of days. You did it in one afternoon!”

“Happy to help you out, Aunt Polly. It feels good and will help me get ready to pitch in again when I get back to Iowa. I’d better finish off this lemonade and get cleaned up for dinner. Is there anything in the kitchen I can help you with?” asked Harley.

“Golly, no, Harley. Thank you, though. You have helped me plenty. Just go wash up. I have dinner almost ready.”

After cleaning up, Harley ate dinner with his great aunt. Their conversation was pleasant and the unfortunate theft of his college money was not discussed, but it was all Harley was thinking about. He would have more time on the train, but he knew he had to come up with a plan for getting more money. Harley went to bed that night, thinking about it; he woke up the next morning, thinking about it.

Aunt Polly gave him a tight little hug at the train, and he climbed aboard with his gift valise. She had given Harley a twenty-dollar bill for his afternoon of yard work, which was like a week’s pay at the ranch. He thanked her repeatedly for all her hospitality and especially for her generosity. He promised to give Lena a hug for her and waved out the window of the train one final time as the wheels started turning. He was going home.