Jenny's Trail, part 1
Written by Kate
Part I- Jenny
Jennifer Anne Mousefield looked out upon the stars in her New York sky. She had lived on Mouser Farm since she had been born, 23 years ago. She was, as yet, unmarried. She knew perfectly well that she was a bit old (by the standards of 1863, anyway) to catch a husband, and she liked that fact just fine, because Jenny was no ordinary girl.
Her parents had always disagreed on how girl children should be raised. From the age of 2, her mother dressed her in silly frills and sweet frocks designed to make girls look girly. It wasn’t hard to give Jenny a wardrobe, because Mouser Farm had the best produce in Monroe County. So her mother stitched tirelessly, trying to get Jenny to look like a nice, normal girl. And, until age 5, she had. But when she turned 5 her parents made the mistake of letting her go outside to play wherever she wanted. She met her best friend, Christina Cordelia Garland, when she was walking by a creek.
Christina was splashing in the creek as happily as she could be, not caring for a second that she was standing around in just a play frock and some old drawers. She was just a year older than Jenny, and it was she who introduced the outside world to Jenny as if Jenny was only a little baby. Jenny grew to love the outdoors, and begged her dad to take her on fishing outings just like her three brothers.
Her mother protested and pulled her indoors by the strings of her lace pinafore, but her father shrugged and said "Why not?" He argued that half of the girl children in their town ran about climbing trees anyway; it’d be good for Jenny to get some fresh air. So Jenny’s next-oldest brother, Jack, lent her a pair of trousers he’d outgrown, and the five Mousefields strode out to the creek.
Jenny turned out to be an expert tree-climber, a good hunter, and a better fisherman than any of her brothers. Her father was amazed at her skills. Each night after that first day, before he came inside for bed, Ken Mousefield thanked the heavens for his three sons, and his one little tomboy.
There was another matter that Jenny’s parents, Ken and Peggy, disagreed on, and that was education. Peggy Fairlea Mousefield hadn’t had much schooling other than learning to read, write, and do simple arithmetic. She tried to steer Jenny the same way but couldn’t, and found quickly enough that Jenny, who picked up reading easily, was already too good for most of the limited library at Mouser Farm, and had to go to town to see what the booksellers brought in.
Ken encouraged the girl as much as her brothers, using the statement that their only difference was that she was a girl and his sons were boys, and even then, females have something on males. They tended to be cunning and clever, at least from Ken’s experience, and he was proud that Jenny wasn’t one of those shallow gigglers at the private school ten miles away.
Ken liked to take the entire younger generation of Mouser Farm dwellers on camping trips, often including Christina Garland in the mix, and as he and the kids grew older, he decided to let them go alone every so often.
But now Jenny was 23, and two of her brothers were fighting in the Civil War, and one brother lived out west. She, too, had to pick a path, because at 25, only two years away, her parents would turn her out into the world.
Part II- Christina
Christina Cordelia Garland Mousefield wasn’t expecting any news on that sunny summer day. She certainly didn’t think she’d hear that her best friend had lost a brother, and that she was a widow. The news wasn’t earth shattering, since she didn’t have any kids, but it was still painful nonetheless. She had loved James Mousefield since five years ago, in 1858, when she was 19 and he was 22. Both of them had led on that nothing was there between them, but when Christina turned 21, they eloped, shocking the entire Mousefield and Garland clans, and James’ supposed sweetheart, Elspeth Smith. They were now sitting pretty in a brick house in Boston. Well, they were until the Civil War really picked up and he was forced to join the fighting.
The house was taken care of; she would be well provided for into her old age, if she chose to retire from her job as an itinerant painter. She was in great demand here in Boston, what with all of the rich people wanting an image that would stand the test of time. Unless specifically directed to paint her subject as if she were painting a photograph, she always made the older subjects look younger and the adolescents more mature. Nobody had ever shown displeasure with her work, and if they had, they kept it to themselves, because Christina was something else, something rare during wartime: cheap.
The news that her husband was dead was not the only bit of news she heard that day. A letter arrived with a small package. Inside the small package was an enormous diamond ring. The note said, "Send this by courier to Good New Hope, Oregon, and step on it!"
And the footnote: "P.S. The courier must be a member of the Mousefield clan, related somehow to Jack Mousefield."
Part III. Dot
It was really Dorothea, but Dot suited the little imp so perfectly that soon almost nobody remembered what it stood for. Dot Mousefield was just on her way to school at Miss Garner’s Girls’ Academy, when her cousin Jamie’s wife, Christina, came riding into town on a chestnut mare.
Dot could only stare up in awe- Christina and Jenny were her only daring cousins, and here was Christina, looking like a bat out of… um, Satan’s lair. (Dot wasn’t even allowed to think curses yet, or else she’d get her mouth washed out with lye soap, dried with the dusty ashes, and waxed with the candle stub from her room.) "Don’t just stand there, Dot, hop on!" yelled Christina. She was in a great hurry. "Where are your siblings?"
Dot climbed on the horse as best she could. "They’re at school," she said truthfully. And they were… at the Mousefield School of Playing Hooky.
"Oh, never mind, we’ll find them later," muttered Christina, knowing full well which school Dot meant, having gone there herself many a day. They rode quickly over the path, never stopping to bid anyone good day. When they reached the log home of Ma Diane and Pa Stephen Mousefield, Christina climbed down. Jenny was already in the parlor, hair wild from riding. Jen’s remaining brother, Junius, was on furlough and sitting in a wheeled chair, with both legs sprinted and elevated. His wife, Maria, and their seven children Caroline, Kenneth, Robert (nicknamed Rab), Ophelia, Dagwood, Florence, and Katrin, sat surrounding him. Along with those branches of the family, there was Jane Mousefield Figley’s family, consisting of herself, her daughters Alice, Katherine, and Cordelia, and her twins Sadie and Sam; Alicia Beasley Mousefield, his mother; and, of course, Christina and Dot.
Almost the entire group was assembled, and the adults were passing the note around. They were murmuring and speculating about why they were all called in. The Figley sisters were trying on the ring, and Christina chuckled to see Alice and Katherine squabbling over it. Only Cordelia hung back. She was too annoyed to play.
Part IV. Junius
Junius Mousefield wondered where his brother Jack was now. The note with the ring gave the impression that he was being held captive. It pained him that he couldn’t do anything to help, with his broken legs. His wife was useless, too- Maria did naught but whine and produce more mouths to feed. Not that he didn’t love his children; he held them dearer than their mother. Each one had his or her defining features.
Caroline, Kenneth, Robert (nicknamed Rab), Ophelia, Dagwood, Florence, and Katrin were born over a fifteen-year period, with Caroline in 1840, and Katrin in 1855. Katrin was Dot’s age and they were practically inseparable, even now, in the log home of his aunt and his cousins. Katrin was actually Dot’s second cousin. Katrin was the wildest one of his already rambunctious crew. She ran and played more than she should, kind of like his sister Jenny.
Caroline was the docile one. She played the mother when the children had a session of make-believe. Kenneth Jr., in turn, was the father figure when Junius could not appear. He took care of the kids with Caroline when Maria insisted on going to New York City for those insane society balls. Rabbie was the most history-minded, always holing up in the den with several of the Scottish history books on the Mousefields’ ancestors. Normal people would mistakenly call him Rob, instead of its Scottish variant, and would appear puzzled at his accent. Ophelia was the dramatic one, always daydreaming about becoming an actress. She always claimed her name was fitting for someone who wanted to act Shakespeare someday; Junius didn’t dare tell her that she was named for her great-great-grandmother, a housewife to the end. Dagwood took after his father, copying every motion, every deed, every thought of Junius’. He even asked to change his name to Junius Jr. and go to the same schools as his dad had. Junius had resisted, however, saying that one junior in the family was enough. Florence was named after the city she was born in, Florence, Italy. She loved the European lifestyle, and could always be counted on to glamorize the situation. And Katrin… well, Katrin was Katrin. There really wasn’t much to say about her.
Now, in the den, the children had gone to find favorite cousins and aunts and such. Caroline tried to get Jen and Christina to see the light of the true married life. It escaped her grasp that she was unmarried herself. Kenneth sat by himself in a corner, wondering if his best friend, Jack, was all right. Rab told Scottish legends to anyone who would listen. Ophelia, Cordelia, and Florence were acting out the witches’ scene in "Macbeth." Katrin and Dot had brought out their poppets Gillian and Juliana for a little game of "Throw Anything You Can Into The Fireplace." The poppets never burned, but someone’s hair ribbon or a parent’s receipt would. They snagged treasures from around the room, hoarding the nicest ones. Dagwood copied his father’s stance and simply sat there with his parents.
Everywhere in the room, there was an undercurrent of worry, but even more so for Junius’ kids, who were worried sick about their Uncle Jack.