The Resting Tree - Chapter 2: Little Schuyler Grows

Little Schulyer grew strong and healthy after the death of his mother. He grew into a hardworking young man whose heartaches did not stop with the loss of his mother. After the death of his mother, the already poor family was spiraling even deeper into poverty with his father in great denial of what had happened to his wife, despite the fact he watched her deteriorate day after day. It had come time everyone had to work and that even meant a 12-year-old Schulyer.

He moved in with his aunt and uncle for a time, working as a farmhand. It was hard work but Schuyler felt well earning something to give back to his struggling father. Not being home then, Schuyler didn’t realize the real agony his father was in. When he came home some weekends it didn’t seem like the money he or his brothers were making and sending was helping towards anything. It all made sense with the findings of many secret empty whiskey bottles. At that point, one of Schuyler’s brothers had given up work to watch over their father in hopes of stopping him from doing any more harm but it was too late.

Schuyler sat one night by the fire in his aunt and uncle’s kitchen upon receiving word that his father had died. His stomach ruptured from the constant drinking. Little Schuyler now felt worse than when he had lost his mother. He felt orphaned. And orphaned so he technically was. On the day of the funeral, they did not lay their father beside their mother under the resting tree. Somehow it just felt wrong. It was not his spot. Their father never went to this tree for comfort and rest, instead, he went to the bottle.

At his young age, little Schuyler didn't know where to go. His aunt and uncle didn't mind his staying but he had itchy feet. He agreed to stay with his aunt and uncle until he was 18. Then the war began...

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In an attempt to serve his country and be a true American, Schuyler (no longer little), put in his registration for the draft.

"You can't really go, can you?" said his girl, Sally.

"Well, I'm not sure if I really can or not but that's not going to stop me from trying," Schuyler replied as he hammered lids back on some paint cans. It was his lunch break. Schuyler had found a job as a painter which was hard work that he found very fog-lifting. It cleared his mind and helped him to think about things more clearly. Which was a true blessing these days.

Sally gave a bit of a huff, "But then what about us?"

Schuyler grunted slightly, "We will be just the same." He was tired of this conversation. Loads of young couples had gotten married quickly once the war began. Schuyler didn't really see the point in that rushing especially when certainties seemed to be a thing of the past. What was the point of getting married if one could go off and be killed in an instant?

Sally had always been persistent though, even before the war. They'd been together nearly a year. And why was it Schuyler had never proposed to her? He got on with her family well and he cared for Sally. But something just kept him from ever making the move. Something that just felt off.

"Alright, we're off then," said Schuyler, finishing up putting away his brushes and offering his arm to Sally. She took it dramatically as they walked away from the post office where Schuyler had been painting and headed for Clark's just around the corner.

Clark's was a corner country store that served some of the most delicious food. It reminded Schuyler of his mother's cooking. He frequented the spot for lunch for this very reason. Not to mention prices were extremely reasonable, even in light of the war. This was good for Schuyler, a painter didn't make much money.

They walked into the store and up to the deli counter.

"And what can I get you all, the normals?" the question came from Bert behind the counter, a jolly-looking man whose face nearly glowed with a mixture of sweat and true joy.

Schuyler nodded and Bert scurried off to make his normal fish sandwich and Sally's chicken tenders. Both with french fries, of course.

Bert returned with their baskets and handed them over. "What do you think about this war, Schuyler? I heard on the radio just this morning that they are going to start a mandatory draft."

"Well glad I put in my registration this morning," Schuyler said, feeling a bit patriotic.

"You did?" Bert asked with wide eyes. "I'll tell you, it's scary out there Schuyler. I'm worried they are even going to take an old man like me at the rate things are going."

Schuyler smiled at Bert, "No there surely must be an age cut-off, Bertie. Nothing for you to worry about."

"Never really imagined I'd be this thankful to be an old man," Bert laughed, a little nervously. "Well, you all enjoy your lunch now, and thank you for coming in." Bert was a grateful person but especially so in these hard times.

"Of course, Bert," Schuyler smiled and led Sally away to a booth that sat between a window and a small icebox filled with prewrapped individual ice creams. Clarks wasn't a very big place, but it did have room for a couple of little booths for those who chose to sit down and eat. Schuyler and Sally frequented it so often that this particular booth had become their own.

Schuyler could feel Sally's silent gaze on him as they sat down and began to eat.

He looked up, "Do you wish to say something, my dear?" He felt uneasy.

Sally sighed and picked out her french fries, "I certainly just don't understand it." Sally was a very straightforward person and knew what she wanted.

"Meaning?" Schuyler replied, knowing very well what she meant.

"This. Us." Sally began, motioning to the two of them, "Schuyler, we've been together for nearly a year, you love my family, they love you, there's a war on and we do love each other, don't we? Forgive me for being so upfront, but what on earth are you waiting on?"

How could Schuyler answer her question when he didn't know quite know the answer himself?

"I... I don't really know. I suppose I just don't feel... ready." Schuyler said, stuttering a bit. Sally's gaze was almost physically hurting him it was so severe.

"Not ready?" Sally snorted, "What more 'getting ready' could you possibly have to do?" The fury in Sally's eyes this time around was new to Schuyler and he wasn't sure how to react, so he stayed silent. Sally eyed him close. "I'm more than ready and I can assure you I'm beyond the best you could ever get. Why, if it was anyone else, they'd be jumping to marry me and..."

"Wait for just a second," Schuyler cut her off, "what is that supposed to mean?"

Sally stuttered and looked a little shocked, not used to Schuyler ever putting up a fight, "Well I... I just meant a man from your... from your... background and me from where, well... I come from..."

"And perhaps by my background you mean poverty, is that right?" Schuyler pressed, "and you coming from, what exactly Sally? Money, education, a promised inheritance?"

Sally tried an uncomfortable smile, trying to radiant the confidence she normally held, and reached out to touch Schuyler's hand, "I just meant, dear, that it only makes sense for us to get married. Please try and see it from my perspective. What with the war and all and you voluntarily signing up, at a moment's notice I could be completely alone wondering what could have been with us. Why wait?"

Schuyler still hadn't completely shaken off the comment Sally had made earlier, but he did attempt to see it through her eyes, "Yes, I understand. You're quite right, Sally. Who knows what may happen next? And at what time? I know that about as well as anyone." He said this while thinking about his mother and how distinctively he could remember her even though she died when he was so young.

"There, see? That's all I meant. Schuyler, I do love you, you know." Sally smiled and squeezed his hands.

Schuyler returned the squeeze accompanied by a weak smile, "Yes, yes of course. And I you, my dear."

They continued their lunch in silence. Sally in a comfortable, victorious silence and Schuyler back in an uneasy, confusing fog.