ROSEWOOD

         Daniel was a quiet boy. He spent a great deal of time working by himself, cutting wood or loading freight or walking the trap lines through the woods. Some days he never spoke at all except to say ‘Thank you’ and ‘Please’ to the women in the house when they served his breakfast and dinner. The rest of the time he was alone and quiet, lost in his own thoughts. He thought a great deal about the future, college and work and caring for his sister and his grandmother in Gainesville, who was not well much of the time. He thought about leaving Rosewood and staying in Rosewood, and could make up his mind about neither.

         He had begun to think a great deal about Rose. He hurried back from the Wright’s store in the mornings now, to walk with Rose and his sister to school. He waited for them in the afternoon and walked them home, then went to his chores and hurried through them to spend time in the kitchen, watching her work, listening to her laugh and chatter with the others. He was embarrassed when his uncle asked him if he was thinking about learning to cook, but Sylvester just grinned and told him to go on in when Daniel shook his head.

         Rose was mostly quiet just like him. He liked watching her move from task to task, quiet, looking up from time to time to smile at him. He liked that she worked so hard, steadily moving through the dinner chores until they were finished, never complaining like Marlene or disappearing at the first chance like Mary.

         Daniel liked that Rose was quiet but he liked too that she would tease and joke sometimes. She was especially sassy with Happy, laughing and teasing her auntie about her cooking, and sassy with Sylvester, who always had jokes and compliments ready when he came in the kitchen after a long day’s work. Daniel liked how Rose’s brown eyes would shine and her cheeks turn rosy when she laughed. He liked how her laughter rang out, and he would hurry if he heard her as he returned home, hoping to see her laughing when he came in.

         Daniel enjoyed listening to his uncle Sylvester too, fooling with his sisters and nieces in the kitchen, and enjoyed being with him as they worked. Sylvester was outrageous at times, telling huge whoppers that nobody believed but everyone laughed at. Sometimes he was serious and even a little scary. Daniel knew he had been in prison for stealing cattle, had spent six months alongside Daniel’s grandfather, his father, in a turpentine camp for that crime. Turpentine was the only job his uncle wouldn’t work now, not tapping trees for pinesap or rosin, not distilling kerosene or carting it with Sam Carter, the teamster for the local camps.

         “Blood money,” he’d frown, shaking his head. “We don’t need that type of silver.”

         Daniel liked how Sylvester was always himself, no matter who was around. He had nice manners and was always respectful, but he never looked away from people or kept his glance down. It made some people nervous, that steady look, but Daniel liked how it felt when Sylvester was looking right at you and paying attention. It made you feel important, he thought. He liked that his uncle could be quiet too, walking for miles in the quiet woods, thinking his own thoughts and letting Daniel think his own.

         “Uncle Syl, what’s it like being married?” he asked one day as they were walking along their trap line.

         “My God, you startled me,” Sylvester cried out as he jumped a bit to the side. “You haven’t said a word in over two hours.”

         Both of them started to laugh.

         “Sorry, I was just thinking,” Daniel apologized.

         Sylvester wiped his brow with an exaggerated gesture, replaced his black Stetson.

         “Marriage. Hmm. What you have in mind?” he asked, his glance loving and kind as he looked at Daniel.

         “Nothing. Like I said, I was just thinking,” Daniel replied. His face was burning hot.

         “Man starts to think about marriage, usually he’s been thinking for a reason,” Sylvester said. “Well, let’s see. Marriage is sometimes the best thing in the world, but sometimes the worst thing. Sweet, but sour as a lemon. Fiery and a wet old blanket.” He frowned. “Agony. Delight. Joy. Sorrow.”

         Sylvester shook his head. He looked sad for a moment but soon grinned and looked over at Daniel.

         “Why you ask?” he asked his nephew. “What’s on your mind? Or, who is on your mind, is the question, I guess.”

         Daniel shrugged, embarrassed that he had even started this conversation, but Sylvester smiled and slapped him on the back.

         “Old love bug’s been biting you, I guess. Nothing bad about that son, being in love’s a fine thing. Different than being married, though,” he laughed. “Love’s a sport for young men. Marriage is only for grown up men, and it would be better if more men knew it.

         “You go on and be in love, be crazy,” he told Daniel, smiling. “Do brave deeds. Fight someone over her. It’s all good and part of it. Can’t hurt you to be in love. Sixteen is too young for getting married, mind you, but just about right for love.

         “She’s a quiet girl, sad in a way. Too young for so much sadness, I think. But still, beautiful. She’s sweet, kind, loving to your sister. You think nobody sees, but I do,” he laughed at Daniel’s embarrassment. “Easy to see. You go right ahead, fall in love. Come tell me what you find out after,” he smiled as he walked on ahead to their next trap.