The Private Journals of Isaiah Watts

By: Nicholas Hall
(© 2021 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

nhall@tickiestories.us

Chapter 7
The Early Years

“In 1931, when I was seven years of age, we moved to Decker’s Corner where Daddy was born and raised until he left home at age fourteen. We moved in with Grandma Watts, Uncle Joseph, and Uncle Zachary on the farm. I learned how to milk cows, which is not much different than jackin’ off, when a chicken pecks you it doesn’t use it’s pecker, a hog will eat anything, pig shit stinks, and I met Giovanni Fiorella Russo, one hell of a good looking boy and the friend for life I fell in love with.”

(The Private Journals of Isaiah Watts) 

Up until 1929, when Isaiah was five, life continued to be good with the Lovell Band. William Lovell always claimed his family originated in Wales, but migrated from there to England and to the United States. He’d often laugh, reciting the old nursery rhyme to his grandchildren, “Taffy was a Welshman, Taffy was a thief. Taffy came to my house and stole a side of beef,” and would jokingly, but proudly, point a finger at first Claire, then young Isiah, praising them for being able to recognize the difference between beef, gold, jewels, and paper currency, hence relieving the band from having to “herd cattle,” instead, carrying gold in their purses.

The band prospered and David, growing pessimistic, uncertain the good times would continue, made frequent trips, alone, to “Uncle Abram’s” to leave dollars and gold for safe-keeping. He trusted them, knowing they’d not only guard his wealth, but per his instructions, made periodic payments to his mother for her care and the care of his brothers.

David’s feeling of pessimism and uneasiness going into 1927 was based on several factors; he was blessed with a strong intellect, excellent insight in the markets and man, a voracious reader with an insatiable curiosity, financial acumen far beyond his years, and the accumulated wisdom and experience of Abram Saunders.

The economy may have seemed robust to many since many were spending early on in 1927, but not everyone. Not all of the spending by those not in the wealthy category but hoping to be there someday soon, was their own. Much of it was borrowed and personal and corporate debt was rising rapidly. Since the end of World War I, the war to end all wars, production of war materials decreased, leaving many who were previously employed, unemployed. In addition, there were returning soldiers who were seeking employment as well. Prohibition generated “empty” dollars since most of it was “under the table” and did little to add to the national wealth or GNP.

David noticed people were much less inclined to spend their gold coins, preferring to spend paper currency and hoard the gold. Bankers, according to Saunders, were becoming cautious amidst all of the talk from Europe and Asia of new governments with leaders who were more “nationalist” than previous ones and interested in expanding their own borders. The traditional state (country) boundaries were pretty much destroyed by the Treaty of Versailles. The economies of those countries devastated by the war, were not recovering as rapidly as one might expect as a result of the Treaty. Infrastructures of those countries were slow to be rebuilt, but progress was being made. In Europe, the most vocal in protesting the Treaty was Germany and a very strong Nationalist attitude was developing.

David’s uneasiness caused him to decide to increase his “stash” with Saunders. Not only gold coin and paper currency were being entrusted to “Uncle Abram” but some silver coin as well as jewelry and gem stones. David believed, rather than sell all the items as he had in the past, in holding pieces back as a hedge against hard times.

In 1928 David made a total of four trips to the Saunders’s home. On the last trip he asked Abram and Rose to contact his mother, tell her of his concerns, and ask if she’d sell the farm to him. He’d pay her in quarterly payments, keeping his father from grabbing the money, so she’d be able to take care of herself and his brothers. David had been paying the taxes on the property and would continue to do so. He felt it was a natural progression, at this point; he would own the farm and relieve his mother from the worry. His brothers would continue to work it and keep any revenue, after bills were paid, for his mother and them. Saunders thought his terms were very generous.

His mother readily agreed since, in her letter to David, she notified him his father was in the Scott County jail for assault and battery of two men. He’d gotten into a drunken brawl, and letting his temper get the best of the fight, ended up breaking one man’s jaw and another man’s arm. The judge failed to accept his pleas for leniency since it wasn’t the first time Neville had appeared before the court, so the judge sentenced him to the county poky.

David took his family to visit their “Uncle Abram and Aunt Rose” periodically.  Abram and Rose were always so delighted to see his family and spoil them, according to Claire. The children and Claire had yet to see their Grandmother Watts or their uncles on their father’s side.

David and his mother agreed many years before it might be unwise to have the children in close proximity to his father as they grew up. David agreed, especially seeing how delightfully beautiful his sons were developing. He was more than just a little concerned for Isaiah.  He kept her posted on their growth, their progress with their studies, and birthdays. She always sent them a little something, not much, but just something.

There was no doubt, in David and Claire’s mind, Isaiah was developing into a boy who liked other boys and, the fact he was lame in his right leg, might make him especially vulnerable to someone like his father. His brother’s threats, and his own, to pinion Neville’s dick to the barn floor kept him at bay, but David wasn’t certain having young boys around him and the threats would keep Neville’s dick in his pants!

They’d traveled to Abram and Rose’s place pulling their caravan (house trailer), not by horses, but by automobile. It was easier for them and for Rose and Abram since the Saunders household was full to overflowing since the stock market crash in 1929 and subsequent downtown of the economy and consumer spending. 

The market crash didn’t have an immediate effect on the Lovell band of Romany’s since they owned no stock other than livestock, using them for transportation. However, even the use horses was falling to the wayside with the advent of motor vehicles and availability of gasoline. Within six months, the market crash did have an impact! Cash money was hard to come by, goods and services the Romany’s provided wasn’t being sought, and pockets no longer were “ripe for the picking.” With many people losing their property and livelihood, families split up, and people moved to where they thought things just might be better. The Lovell Band was no different, until the remaining group of people contained the children of William and Zoe, the spouses of their children, and grandchildren. Even then, the family group began to shrink as members split off, hunting for a way to provide for their own families.

David needed to draw on his resources held by Uncle Abram for him to help maintain his own family as well as supplement his father-in-law’s. David had sufficient wealth, he thought, to weather a storm, but he needed to visit with Abram, picking his mind and experience, so he could draw some conclusions of his own.

Abram Saunders hunkered down as well, reducing his inventory of horses and mules, cutting back on expenses, closing his office in Burlington, and managing his shrinking business from his home. Their two sons, on the road selling and trading horseflesh for their father, moved back to the home place with their families since there was no profit on the road with the business shrinking. The house and the bunkhouse were remodeled to accommodate the families.

Matt Turner, still living with Saunders, gave up the bunkhouse and moved into one of the bedrooms in the main house. He continued to handle the books for his Uncle Abram and became the farm manager. Abram switched to a couple of large gardens to provide food for this large family, pastured beef cattle and a half-dozen milk cows, raised chickens for eggs, and hogs for meat for the family and sale. In fact, anything the family didn’t use, he sold. By hook or by crook (mainly crook), Abram managed to acquire enough machinery for him to farm. His purchases were made, in most cases, with ten cents on the dollar. Since they lived close enough to a large population area, during prohibition, he trafficked in boot-leg liquor until Prohibition ended. No one could say Abram Saunders didn’t know how to turn a buck.

It was exactly this advice David was seeking. Traveling with his family, using the caravan as their home, eased the burden on the Saunders household for providing sleeping room for his family.

By chance, on this visit in late March of 1931 when the economy was really horseshit, David received word from his brother Joseph, his mother fell and broke her arm and his father was due to be released the first of May from jail. Joseph pleaded with David to come home, they’d need him, especially if his father decided to return.

Learning of his mother’s injury and of his father’s release from jail the first of May, Claire and David decided to travel directly to Decker’s Corner rather than return to the Lovell encampment some fifty miles south of the Iowa/Missouri border. Abram assured them he’d see that a message was sent off to Bill Lovell explaining why David and Claire wouldn’t be rejoining them. David also sent one hundred dollars in gold coin to help out his in-laws. Times were tough for them as well and David knew they’d appreciate any help they’d receive from him. It wouldn’t be the end of his assistance to his wife’s family or to others.

Claire was disappointed and would miss the closeness of her family, but understood David’s concern. She was however, also looking forward to meeting his mother and brothers, as well as setting up housekeeping in a real house with a farm to provide food for her growing family. Gideon, their youngest was still at her breast. Isaiah was a great help, caring for Joshua, age five, Thomas, age four, and Jerome, age two. David, a most caring father and husband, was her biggest help with the children and she knew he’d do his very best to provide for their family.

Isaiah was disappointed as well, not only because he’d miss his cousins and other friends, but the “fun” they had together, playing naked games, pleasuring each other, but when David told him he was “his right-hand man” and not to worry, he’d find new friends, he reconciled himself to the move.

Before David and his family left for Decker’s Corner, Abram Saunders gave him some very sound advice; “Banks are repossessing lots of property because people default on their loans. Much of it can be purchased for little or nothing, if a person knows how to haggle. Owning property is a good way to invest and also hide income.” He slapped David on the back adding, “If you need a partner to supply any extra cash, let me know.”

Three days later, David, Claire, and family were in Decker’s Corner and at the family farm. His mother, brothers Joseph and Zachary all hugged David and cried in their joy. David couldn’t believe how much his brothers grew since he saw them last or how much older his mother appeared, left arm in a cast and a sling.

“You’re really, really home,” Dorothea kept repeating, as she continued to hold him tight to her breast with her right arm, rocking them both back and forth.

He slowly pulled away. “Momma, I’d like you to meet my wife, Claire, the love of my life.”

Claire was embraced by her mother-in-law, the first time she’d ever seen her, only heard of her from David, as Dorothea said softly, with great admiration and happiness for her son, “So small, so young, and so very lovely.”

Joseph and Zachary stepped forward, introduced themselves, and when receiving a hug from their new sister-in-law, reciprocated, and expressed their pleasure in meeting her and welcomed her and the family to their new home.

“I must meet all these handsome young men who just couldn’t be my grandsons, could they?” Dorothea exclaimed with a warm, welcoming smile.

Isaiah, holding young Gideon as his mother was greeted by his grandmother and uncles, responded, “Yes, mam. I’m Isaiah, age seven; this is Gideon,” nodding his head at the babe in his arms, “and this is Joshua, age five almost six,” giving a nod of his head for Joshua to step forward. Pointing to each of his remaining brothers, indicating they should step forward; “Thomas, age four almost five, and Jerome, he’s two.”

The boys hesitantly accepted hugs from their grandmother. They were withholding judgement, uncertain how they’d be received, and quite unwilling to trust a stranger, even if the stranger was their father’s mother. Besides, as far as they knew she was of the white or “gaje” community, and this would be their first close and continual contact with someone they thought wasn’t of their own.

Dorothea recognized the hesitation, pondered it only for a moment, before replying, albeit haltingly, since she seldom spoke it, in Romany, “Welcome to your new home. I hope you will be happy here and know you are among your own people.”

Grins broke out on the little boy’s faces, looking at their mom and dad for reassurance all would be well!

“That’s right, boys,” David said softly, “you’re home now and here’s where we will live, still among those who know of us.”

Isaiah, Gideon still in his arms, watched carefully during all of this. He’d been making some very intense observations, concluding his daddy looked somewhat like his grandmother, definitely was warm and welcoming like her, but really resembled his uncles more so; they were about his dad’s height, of the same complexion, infectious smile, slim, yet strong, and not very talkative as well. He wondered if they possessed the same skills as his father with a knife or ability to pull a con. They both appeared ready to accept him and his brothers and share their home with them.

“I’m putting you, David and Claire, in David’s old bedroom. I moved in a trundle bed and crib for the little ones. I just knew you’d come so I got’em from Sabrina Russo up the road from us. She’s a good friend and has been so much help over the years. Isaiah and Joshua will bunk in the same room with Joseph and Zachary until we can get beds for the spare room. There’s two double beds in there,” and with a wave of her unfettered arm, bid them to join her in the house.

She settled them down at the kitchen table, welcomed them with a cookie jar full of sugar cookies, glasses of cold milk, and a cup of hot tea for Claire, now nursing Gideon, while Joseph and Zachary helped David park the caravan, unload it, and carry their personal belongings to the proper bedrooms. Unloading and organizing the rest of the family’s belongings would take a little more time, finding proper places for everything.

Isaiah, keeping one ear open to the casual talk at the table as his grandmother tried to learn of the life they led and know them better, also kept his eyes open to the items brought into the house. When his dad and uncles announced they were finished for now, he noticed the three small locked chests in the caravan were not brought into the house. He made no comments, but a quick glance at his dad, and a wink from him in return, delivered the message. His dad wasn’t about to unload those small chests yet, not until he was positive everything was well and safe. Isaiah knew only too well what was in those chests since he’d helped his dad pack them.

David and his brothers relaxed with a cup of coffee and a cookie, joined Claire, Dorothea, and the boys at the kitchen table, after the caravan was unloaded and the bedrooms rearranged for his family. Joseph indicated they still had evening chores to do. Chickens needed to be fed, eggs gathered, the hogs fed, check on the five steers in the pasture next to the barn, the horses fed and turned out into the corral, and the two cows milked.

“May as well learn now,” David announced to Isaiah. “Get a jacket and cap on, it’s chilly out there, put on some old clothes and shoes, and help. Your old shoes will have to do until we get you boys some boots. It gets a little messy in the stock yards and messing around with livestock and poultry.”

Joshua’s bottom lip started to protrude, evidencing his sorrow thinking he might be left out. David was quick to notice it, quickly adding, “Joshua, you better put on some old clothes too. The eggs need to be gathered along with feeding and watering the chickens. Chickens can be pretty messy.”

The boy scampered to the bedroom, joined his older brother in changing clothes, and the two of them joined David and their uncles on the way to the barn and pens. Joseph and Zachary set about feeding and watering the horses, turned them out into the corral, but left the door open so they could come back in if they wanted or the weather got bad, while David, Isaiah, and Joshua headed for the chicken house.

The boys were unfamiliar with how to take care of chickens. The Lovell Band didn’t keep poultry, relying on barter or purchase for eggs or chicken to eat. More often they ate wild birds, such as quail, pheasant, ducks or geese, and doves the men shot. Of course, there were times they just helped themselves to several of some farmer’s chickens as they passed through the area as well.

The chicken house and pen held about three dozen laying hens, perhaps fifteen little chicks with two hens clucking at them, and a half dozen roosters.

Inside the chicken house, there was a two-tiered row of nesting boxes on one wall and a ladder type wooden structure against another one. The ladder type structure leaned up against wall at an angle and had several rows of horizontal long wooden cross pieces. David explained the strange device was for the chickens to roost on at night and the wooden boxes, with layers of straw in them, were where the chickens were supposed to lay their eggs.

“Sometimes they don’t so you have to look around for them. The boxes with the paper note on them reading ‘brooding’ means the hen is sitting a clutch of eggs, incubating them so they’ll hatch. Grandma wants the little chicks to grow the flock and provide chicken for us to eat.”

He heard a “ee-yuuu” erupt from one of the boys, Joshua to be exact, as he stepped in a pile of chicken shit.

“No matter how careful you are boys, you’re bound to step in a pile of shit somewhere on a farm. Just make sure you clean your shoes off real good before going into the house. Don’t want to track that stuff in and upset your Momma or Grandma.”

 Joshua thought it absolutely hilarious hearing his dad say “shit” so freely and without fear of reprimand from Momma. David picked up on it right away and cautioned the boys it was okay to use certain words out in the yard and around the barn, but not around Momma and Grandma Watts. Joshua still thought it was funny until Isaiah gave him a jab with an elbow. “Shit” was one of many words Isaiah learned around the older boys in camp and knew early on not to use them around the womenfolk.

“Isaiah, you gather the eggs while Joshua and I fill the feeders and put fresh water in the water containers. It helps distract the hens while you gather the eggs. Just watch they don’t peck you!”

“You mean,” Isaiah sort of stuttered, his head swiveling in astonishment, staring incredulously at his father, “they might try to fu…..,, ah, stick their peckers in me?”

“No, Isaiah, not ‘peckers’ like in cock,” David replied, amused but not wanting to embarrass his son, “but jab you with their beaks. It hurts like hell, unlike playing with your pecker which doesn’t!”

Both boys laughed! They understood very well what their daddy meant that time.

Isaiah started gathering the eggs and the chickens started coming in from the yard after hearing the rattle of the feeders being filled. He didn’t relish being pecked on the hand when he reached in for eggs, so any hens he found still on the nest, except those nests marked with the “brooding” note, he shooed off, sending them squawking and flapping their wings.

Working, David explained to the boys feeding the chickens and gathering the eggs had to be done twice a day, in the morning and the evening. The cows had to be milked twice a day as well and all of the stock, including the hogs had to be checked and fed, if necessary, twice a day as well.

“A farm can be real busy,” he explained, “but I hope you learn to enjoy it as I did.”

Eggs gathered, David asked Joshua to take the eggs to the house and help his grandmother clean them while he and Isaiah helped Uncle Zachary and Uncle Joseph feed the hogs and milk the cows.

David filled a bucket with water from the pump on the windmill, carried it to the hog pen, walked to the barn, filled a bucket full of ground corn and oats, carried it to the hog pen, and mixed the water with it until the mixture looked like soupy oatmeal, and poured it into the trough in the hog pen. There were four males, sans balls hence “gilts,” and two sows with a total of fifteen little piglets scampering around them. The sows knew which ones were their own, but to Isaiah the piglets all looked alike, nosing and butting the sows low hanging teats as they walked to the trough.

“Called mash,” he explained to Isaiah. “Hogs love it. Makes’em fat, along with everything else we feed them.”

“It may make them fat,” Isaiah thought, “but it sure don’t do nothin’ for the smell of their shit.” He thought hog shit was the most disgusting thing he’d ever inhaled, even worse than Gideon’s diaper when he filled them. He really hated scraping the shit stuck to Gideon’s ass cheeks when he cleaned him up. “Absolutely disgusting!” he thought every time he had to do it.

The stock tanks needed filling for hogs and horses, so David engaged the clutch on the windmill and let the blades began to revolve, pumping water, into the stock tanks, filling the water tank perched twenty feet up in the air on a four-legged wooden tower not far from the windmill. The tank provided water for the house and the water hydrants near the barn, the chicken yard, and the corral, by gravity feed.

He sent Isaiah to the house for the slop pail and when he returned with it, he dumped it into the trough as well, explaining, “A hog will eat anything that ends up in their feed trough or pen. They can be dangerous as hell so don’t wander into the pen or let your little brothers in there either!”

Watching the hogs snorting, chomping, guzzling at the trough was enough of a demonstration to convince Isaiah.

Zachary and Joseph were finished watering and feeding the horses, two teams of work horses and one saddle horse, and turned them out into the corral for the night. The door to the barn was left open in case there was rain or a storm or the critters decided to come inside. David noted there were two teams of work horses and would ask his brothers why later on after supper.

His brothers were in the process of milking the two milk cows. Each was seated on a three-legged milk stool near the rear flank of a Guernsey milk cow, their heads resting against the side of the beast, hands underneath, milk pail positioned to catch the flow of milk, and carefully, rhythmically, squeezing and pulling on the teats to make the milk flow.

“Move over, Joseph,” David said, “let me give it try and see if I still know how to.”

Joseph nodded, smiled, and relinquished his stool. “She’s all yours, Brother.”

David was quite pleased he hadn’t lost his touch in coxing milk from the cow. After a couple of minutes, he motioned Isaiah over to his side.

“You need to know how to do this,” he said patiently, “in case we’re not around or need the help.”

Slipping Isaiah between his knees as he squatted on the stool, he positioned the boy’s hands on the soft, warm teats of the cow. “Grip the teat securely in your hand; don’t squeeze hard enough to hurt the cow, but squeeze and pull down, sort of stripping the milk from the bag to the teat to the bucket,” helping Isaiah squeeze and pull with both hands alternately on two teats. “It’s sort of like pulling on your cock, tight enough to give you a good hold and stroked enough to give you pleasure.”

Isaiah giggled, struggling to follow his father’s instruction, yet knowing the cow’s teat was bigger than his cock, at least for now, and somewhat embarrassed by his father’s description. It was somewhat difficult for him to imagine his father ever jacking off, but listening to the older boys talk back in camp, he had no doubt every male knew how and did.

Isaiah gave it a try, with his father’s help, and just about the time the cow was growing irritable and impatient, a stream of milk shot from first one teat and then the other.

“Yes!” he exclaimed with a laugh and soon fell into the rhythm of hand-milking. It would be several days before he became adept enough to could milk a cow from beginning to end. Not fast, but fast enough.

Cows milked, turned out to pasture, the men hauled the full milk buckets to the spring house, where they were emptied into a metal milk can, and the lid tamped on to keep it from leaking. The milk can was placed in the concrete holding tank where the cold spring water emptied into via a pipe in the ground. The overflow from the tank spewed out an overflow pipe at one end and from there flowed out of the spring house forming a small stream which emptied into a pond below the barn. From there the water eventually flowed to the river. The spring never froze and was used to keep milk, butter, and other items cold rather than in the ice box in the house.

The four of them washed up in the small washroom just off of the large kitchen before joining the rest of the family seated at the table where all meals were taken. Gideon, tummy full of his mother’s milk, was fast asleep in his crib in the bedroom. This gave David and Claire time to concentrate on feeding Jerome, seated in a wooden highchair between them.

Dorothea resurrected the highchair she’d used for her own sons when they were small and decided it was time to use it for her grandchildren. She hoped, now David was home to stay, her other sons, Benjamin and Darius, would come home with their families to visit. David’s presence would do more than just deter Neville from acting out, but just might keep him away permanently since he still remembered David’s promise to pin his testicles to the barn floor with a pitchfork.

Supper was fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, home-canned green beans cooked with thick slices of bacon and thin slices of onion from the farm, home-baked bread slathered with home-churned butter and topped with grape jelly from the grape vines out near the garden, along with glasses of fresh, cold milk, tea or coffee. Dessert was fresh sugar cookies, still warm from the oven.

Isaiah sat between Joshua and Thomas so he could help Thomas, if he needed it, and still visit with Joshua. Thomas needed some, but not much, help serving himself, but he, along with Joshua and Isaiah, was hungry and, encouraged by their Grandmother Watts, ate his fill. When the camp moved, which it did quite often, meals were simple, nourishing, but with less variety and quantity than the one they were enjoying now.

Isaiah learned, listening to his father explanation, breakfast was served after the chores were done, lunch was at noon, and supper was in the evening after chores were done, hence the reason for eating later than they were used to. The farm animals needed tending first his dad explained, because they not only helped in producing the food, but were food themselves.

The hissing of the pressure gas lamps illuminating the kitchen and a very full tummy soon had Isaiah’s eye lids drooping, Joshua’s head bobbing and wobbling up and down and side to side, and Thomas sound asleep in his father’s arms. Jerome was out like a light on his mother’s lap. With a nod to Claire, David stood, saying softly to Joshua and Thomas, “It’s time for bed.”

Claire carried Jerome to their room where she placed him in the trundle bed, checked on Gideon, and returned to the kitchen to wait for David to return. He’d mentioned earlier he wanted to visit with his mother and brother concerning the farm books, crops, what they had done so far, and what they saw in the future for the farm.

“Looks like the three of you will be sharing the same bed until we can make some other arrangements,” David said softly so as not to awaken Thomas. He carefully stripped the lad to his undershorts as Isaiah and Joshua did the same.

“Thunder mug is under the bed in case you have to pee and don’t want to go outside.”

Isaiah sort of moaned, barely audible to anyone but himself and to David.

“Leg hurt?”

Isaiah nodded.

“I’ll get some of Grandma Zoe’s liniment and massage it for you. Should take away some of the hurt,” he said leaving the room to his.

David returned with a jar of the ointment, put a glob on his hand, motioned for Isaiah to drop his undershorts, and began massaging the soothing, analgesic balm with its recuperative, relaxing properties and ingredients into the lad’s leg. David’s heart ached as he worked on the tired, pain-ridden boy’s leg. Not once, whenever sort of skipping along beside him, walking or playing with his brothers or other boys, helping saddle horses or tear down camp, or do all of the chores today did Isaiah complain; he never whined or bemoaned his disability. No, Isaiah was a happy, smiling, good natured, and loving boy even when he was in pain. Yet underneath all of this, there was a strength, a determination, a loyalty, a love for family and friends that few possessed!

As he massaged the leg from ankle to hip and back, manipulating, squeezing, gently rubbing the leg, he could feel the tightness in the muscles in Isaiah’s hip, thigh, and lower leg began to relax, and the boy’s breathing began to deepen, slow in long deep breaths signaling the was asleep.

Even this first day back home with his mom and brothers did he hear one mention of Isaiah’s infirmity. They treated him as a normal, physically capable boy, a member of the family to be loved and not pitied. David only wanted for his oldest son and his other sons to be loved by Claire and him and know it, not suffer the indignation, the cruelness, and physical brutality of a non-loving family as he had. No, not his sons, not ever if David could prevent it. Underneath it all, he knew Isaiah wouldn’t permit it either.

Isaiah was a strong boy, perhaps not physically since he was slight of build, but in an internal strength very few possessed. He was content being himself, asking no more of anyone than the person was capable of doing and expected to be treated no differently in return. He was an extremely intelligent boy, as were all of David’s sons, but Isaiah was not only intelligent, but had insight into life and into people. He was a better judge of a person’s worth than David, quickly sorting out the “wheat from the chaff.” It was easy for him to sort the rich from the not rich, which man or woman carried a valuable and where it was located.

The lad had an inner core David found difficult to define, extremely loving and loyal, quiet, attentive, and studious on the outside, but submerged beneath the surface was the determination to protect, defend, promote those he loved, even to the point of physical aggression toward anyone who would pretend to do them harm. The lad would be like his dad, vengeful, exacting retribution on those who deserved it; those who’d do him harm or those he loved. His innocent look also masked the fact he was an excellent con, damned good pick pocket, able without guilt but with guile to relieve someone of their wealth, and had a mouth closed tighter than a grown man with lock-jaw when it was necessary. Isaiah knew better than most how to keep a secret, as did all of his sons, members of the Lovell Band, and residents of Decker’s Corner. Never tell, never betray, and act as innocent as a new born babe.

“Never worry with Isaiah at your back,” David chuckled softly. “God, the kid was good and would only get better.”

David knew Isaiah was different from other boys, even at age seven. He was so much like his cousin Matt. Isaiah would never give grandsons to Claire and him, but David only could hope he’d find some young man to love and spend his life with; someone who deserved it and would return it many times over, blessing Isaiah with happiness and prosperity his entire life. His grandfather Lovell proclaimed the day Isaiah was born he’d be a man of wealth someday.

In David’s mind, and in what he was trying to teach his sons, besides hard work and thrift, was love is priceless, lasting, and given without thought of personal reward, only what it gives your partner, such as the love he had for his Claire and the love she returned to him.

David and Claire sat down at the kitchen table and listened carefully as his mother and brothers described the financial situation on the farm and of the family. David learned there was not a great deal of extra cash available, but since he’d purchased the property, relieving his mother of the burden of making the mortgage payment and taxes, she was able to pay the bills, purchase seed and feed, and maintain the livestock. Sale of extra milk and cream, eggs, and an occasional pig or steer helped out.

However, in the past year prices on the sale of farm products tumbled and cash was becoming increasingly tight in the area.

“More and more farms and people’s homes are going up for auction,” Joseph relayed. “As people are unable to make their mortgage payments and fall behind or pay their taxes, the bank or the county puts the property up for sale. Business people will only accept cash for purchases. We’ve been able to have a little cash to pay for what we need to farm and for staples for us.”

Before David could ask, Zachary stepped in. “We hide any from dad knowing he’d just drink it up rather than for food.”

“Where’s he get money for booze?”

“That’s why in he’s in jail – stealing it.”

Everything else the family needed, other than staples, was raised and preserved here on the farm. The garden produced enough for the three of them with some extra to trade with neighbors.

“Better double the size of the garden since there’s seven more of us now,” David said as his brothers nodded their heads understanding the magnitude of more people to feed.

David also learned the small blacksmith shop closed in Decker’s Corner and Joseph bought out the equipment and small forge. He’d set up a small shop in a corner of a machine shed just to fix their own equipment, but since he was so handy and the old gentleman who’d owned the shop volunteered to work with him and teach him the skills, others were bringing their equipment to him for repairs. He’d even begun working on trucks, tractors, and cars- not many but just enough to begin getting the hang of it. The extra cash or whatever he could barter came in handy.

The number of steers, horses, and cows seemed adequate at the time, but David wanted to add as they became available, if the price was right and the market good. They had two teams of work horses so Joseph could work one while Zachery worked the other. All of the farm equipment was in good working order thanks to Joseph. All in all, David was more than satisfied with the farm books and plans, much to the relief of his brothers.

“If you’re interested,” Dorothea advised, “there’s an auction in Logansport coming up soon. House and all furnishings are on the block. The family couldn’t pay the mortgage and the bank is selling everything. Should be a large crowd and things should go cheap because there’s not a lot of money to be had around here. Maybe some city people will show up.”

“Might be a place I can pick up some beds for the boys and bedding,” David acknowledged.

The discussion grew to a close as the hour was late. Davie casually asked, “Is Freddy Russo still around? Last I heard, several years ago, he was in jail.”

“Got out about two, maybe three years ago and living with his folks,” Dorothea answered. “He’s been a big help to them with the small farm they have and with raising Gio.”

“Who’s Gio?”

“Ardel’s son,” Zachery said. “She got knocked up eight years or so ago, had the boy, and dropped him off at Agostino and Sabrina’s house and that’s the last they saw of her.”

******* 

David woke Isaiah and Joshua as the sun was coming up. They were used to waking early, especially on those days the camp moved. Everyone had a task to do on those days, as they did every day, except for the smallest of them. It’d be no different now they lived on the farm, at their grandmother’s house (“now Daddy’s,” as Joshua remarked), on a farm, in Decker’s Corner.

Both boys slipped on their shoes quickly before dressing, taking care not to awaken Thomas. Their tummies hard from the pressure of full bladders and their peckers stiff as lead pencils suffering from “pee-hard-ons,” the two of them trotted outside clad only in their undershorts to relieve themselves behind a large shrub just to the side of the house. Cocks pointing out instead of down, they “let fly,” as Isaiah giggled to Joshua, and they pissed streams up in the air until the release of pressure allowed their dicks to wilt like a daisy without water.

The young boys, intent on emptying their bladders, laughing as they “crossed streams,” or piss the farthest, and the size of their peckers, were happy with their new life and failed to notice Joseph and Zachary standing to their left, large, fat, long, uncut cocks hanging out the front of their pants pouring a stream into the earth as well.

Isaiah just happened to look over, away from Joshua, and saw his uncles pissing. He focused not on their faces, but the large, man-sized cocks hanging, dangling like big sausages hanging in a smoke house, from the front of their pants.

“Wow,” he muttered to Joshua. “Take a look at those fat todgers. Cocks as big as Daddy’s stallion has.”

His remarks definitely drew Joshua’s attention, swiveling his head to the left as well. He sort of squinted, clenched one eye shut, twisted his face muscles, as he looked, contemplated, and evaluated the exposed man-flesh.

“Not quite as big as Daddy’s.”

His words were not spoken softly, but were quite audible to his uncles.

“Morn’in, Nephews,” Zachary said in greeting. “See you decided to shake hands with the mayor too.”

Isaiah looked down at his smaller, yet large for his age, version of the piece of meat his Uncle Zachary was holding, and decided aloud, “Looks like you’re shaking hands with the whole town by the size of your cocks.”

“Don’t your hips get sore from luggin’ all that extra weight around?” he asked.

Before he could reply, Joshua added, with a touch of feigned remorse in his voice, “Mine surely would; I’d have to sit and rest now and again- I would,” and nodded his head for emphasis.

Zachary and Joseph, laughing out loud, agreed they’d love their nephews, now members of their family. The boys were quick, smart, and, as they’d see in the next few days, not afraid of hard work. Their positive, happy attitude at both work and play made life seem easier and more enjoyable for everyone.

The family settled into a routine of sorts in the next few days. Grandmother Watts’ broken arm hindered her activities somewhat but Claire and the boys pitched in to pick up the slack. Isaiah and Joshua handled caring for the chickens, feeding and watering the hogs and steers, while David, Zachary, and Joseph traded off plowing and disking the fields preparing them for planting. They wanted to get the corn in and oats sown before it was time to cut the first crop of hay.

They used two, two-seated sulky type two bottom plows, each pulled by a team of horses, to plow the fields. Once plowed, the fields would be disked with riding disks pulled by the teams. The brothers would switch off, giving one of them a break from the fields and handling the horses and equipment, periodically. The horses were rested and fed, keeping the animals strong and in top form. The weather held and they felt fortunate for that. Planting season was a busy time, with little time off.

David did take some time to go to the auction in Logansport when the day came.

“Might see something you like,” he said with a wink and nod to Isaiah. Isaiah knew what he meant and so did Joshua. If it looked good and the opportunity presented itself with relatively low risk, take it! Joshua made certain he wore the special pouch that fastened around his waist concealed by his undershorts, and hung just in front of his cock and balls under his bib overalls. It was accessible by reaching in the side slit of the bibbies, from either side, in order to slip anything in Isaiah might pass off to him. Who’d allow anyone to feel up a six-year-old boy to see what he had in his underwear? Not many!

A large crowd gathered in front of the stately home where the auction was held. David and the boys wandered through the house, poked around at the tables outside on the lawn piled high with items to be sold, and checked out the furniture on the drive and in the garage.

The auctioneer was methodical, desperate to get as high a price as he could for each item since he worked on a percent of the sale, but the crowd was unwilling to bid a great deal or spend their money. The auction seemed to be endless as far as the crowd was concerned, becoming disinterested as the auctioneer continued to rattle out his spiel.  As a result, David was able to purchase a set of bunk beds, two “twin” beds, all with bedding and mattresses, a couple of small dressers for the boy’s clothes, an absorption-type refrigerator, some relatively new cast iron skillets and kettles, and a pressure canner with jars, lids, and rubbers. He thought they’d give it a try instead of just relying on the hot water bath method of canning and preserving.

His best purchase, he thought, was an office safe. It’d take some help loading it into the wagon he drove to town and help from his brothers to get it unloaded at home. He spent very little considering all he’d purchased. Actually, they’d go home with more than they spent and brought with them in the first place.

Isaiah and Joshua worked the crowd, finally decided on a portly, well-dressed, cigar smoking man, thumbs in his vest pocket, watching the crowd, smiling and nodding as each sale was concluded. The higher the price, the more he smiled.

“I’ll be the fat guy holds the paper on this place,” Isaiah said softly to Joshua.

“Probably from out of town by the looks of him. Nobody seems to talk to him,” guessed Joshua as he watched Isaiah move on the man.

The auction began winding down with no bids on the house and the crowd began dispersing. Loud shouts could be heard from two young boys, “Mister, mister, mister, wait up!”

Without looking, David knew it was Isaiah and Joshua. He did turn however, watching the two boys run toward a fat man who now turned to see what the problem was. The man seemed slightly irritated his progress toward the auctioneers pay booth was located.

Isaiah was running toward him holding what appeared to be a leather purse in his hand.

“You dropped this, mister,” Isaiah wheezed, apparently out of breath from running from somewhere to catch up with the man. Joshua panted up and stopped next to Isaiah.

“We brung it to you as fast as we could,” Joshua said, catching his breath.

The man reached out, examined the leather purse, reached into a pocket, smiled with amazement, and responded, “I believe I did, young man,” reaching forward to accept the full, jingling purse. He hefted it several times, as if checking the weight, and judged, without looking, the contents were intact.

Several people gathered around him, wondering, watching how he would react to the young boys. There were those in the crowd who would have just wandered down the road, that much richer, not choosing to return the booty.

“You are two very honest young boys,” he said somewhat patronizingly. “Your parents should be very proud of you,” he continued reaching into his purse extracting two silver dollars and handing one to each boy.

Isaiah and Joshua, feigning embarrassment, sort of scuffed their feet in the dirt, put their heads down, before looking up at the man.

“Shucks, tweren’t nothin’,” Isaiah replied.

“Momma would say it’s the right Christian thing to do,” Joshua said as he slipped the silver dollar into the front of his bib overalls pocket, being very careful not bump the pouch under his overalls containing the four twenty dollar gold pieces Isaiah handed off to him a few minutes earlier before tossing the purse, which he’d lifted from the fat man’s front pocket, in the dirt, and standing on it so no one else would grab it.

Isaiah and Joshua quickly scooted over to where David waited beside the wagon. David was amazed how good Isaiah was and how he manipulated the man. Didn’t the fat guy announce to God and everybody how honest they were? Their reputation from his announcement would put them above suspicion for some time. Of course, the boys knew well not to be greedy or “shit where they ate,” taking their activities out of town or only occasionally locally if there was a large crowd of outsiders. Make it big and do it seldom, was his motto and theirs.

“Well, boys,” David asked with a chuckle and a twinkle in his eyes, “do you think the three of us can lift that heavy safe and load it in the wagon?”

Isaiah and Joshua, looked at the safe and back at their father.

“That safe looks pretty heavy, Daddy,” Isaiah responded. “Maybe just Joshua and I should do it lest you hurt yourself because you’re so old.”

The boys laughed and so did David, knowing there was no way the three of them would get either item in the wagon. The horses just stood patiently, tails swishing, and with an occasional stamp of a hoof. David and the boys did get the bed, mattresses, dressers, iron skillets and kettles, pressure canner, jars, lids, and rubber rings loaded. David was contemplating taking this load home and getting his brothers to help him, when he heard someone shout,

“Davey; heard you was back home, but hadn’t seen you yet.”

Isaiah and Joshua turned toward the direction the shout came from and saw three guys walking toward them. One of the strangers was about David’s age, another was an older man, and the third was a boy about their age.

David jumped down from the wagon, returning the greeting by hollering back, “Freddy, how the hell are you?” and walked toward the young man and the other two. He embraced the young man while the older gentleman stood by and watched the two old friends greet each other.

“It’s been a lot of years,” David said, stepping back, while the boy walked toward Isaiah and Joshua.

The conversation was lost to Isaiah as he did a quick assessment of the boy coming toward them. The stranger was about his age he figured, probably three inches or so taller, twenty pounds or more heavier, with dark brown hair, dark eyes, tanned in complexion, lanky with wider shoulders than Isaiah, trim waist, dressed in bib overalls and cap similar to theirs, and not an ounce of fat on him.  He carried himself with the confidence of a tough guy, who was used to getting his way around other kids!

Isaiah concluded he was no different than those similar characters he’d encountered in other places they’d been such as fairs, larger towns or cities, carnivals, or circuses. He really wasn’t too concerned but he still gave a cautionary wave of his fingers for Joshua to step behind him.

The move didn’t go unnoticed by the strange boy, thinking to himself, “So he thinks he’s the smaller kid’s protector. Ain’t very big himself.” Grinning with self-confidence, walked up, stood in front of Isaiah and put his hands on his hips.

“I saw what you did.”

Isaiah, taking the measure of the taller boy, responded casually, “Saw me do what?”

“Put your foot over the purse on the ground so nobody else could see it. Then you up and chased after that fat money-bags, give it back to him, and got a couple of bucks for finding it.”

“So?”

“So, you stupid or what? I’d kept the whole fucking purse.”

“Maybe you would have, Mr. who thinks he knows it all, but you don’t have the purse and we have the two bucks.”

The boy was taken aback at the response he got back. “Maybe I’ll just punch you and take’em then.”

With that, Joshua, on a small signal from Isaiah, stepped forward, poked the bully in the tummy with a finger. “Try it and my brother will gut you like a goat being butchered for dinner!”

The bully stepped back, frowned at the defiance of the littler boy standing in front of him, and distracted by the kid’s bravery, failed to notice Isaiah step up beside him, and slide a hand inside the opening in his bib overalls.

“Yeah, right, as if that little shit could do any……..” and his speech came to an abrupt halt as he felt the slight prick of a knife point against his bare abdomen, just above his cock.

“Maybe,” Isaiah said calmly and resolutely, “I’ll trade those two bucks for your two balls or I might just stick you and take’em.”

The kid slowly raised his arms in the air to chest level, admitting he was bested. Grinning, looking down slightly at the boy who had his hand and knife so close to his pecker, said, “You’re pretty damned quick with that knife. What’s your name kid?”

“Isaiah Watts; that’s my dad talking to one of the guys you came with and this is one of my brothers, Joshua. Now who the fuck are you?”

“Giovanni Fiorella Russo, but people call me Gio, and that’s my grandpa and Uncle Freddy Knuckle-fucker.”

To be continued...

Posted: 01/07/2022