Millie

Chapter Seven

A month had passed since the Otis Bailey incident. Millie thought her dad had forgotten about it and she sure wasn't going to remind him. Otis was at somewhat of a loss since Mrs. Whitby's no-nickname phase had passed. He teased Gerald Oberli about being fat until he got the "look" from Freddy and was told by Millie that with a name like Otis and his smart mouth she'd be surprised if he lived to make it to the sixth grade. Sylvia Bailey called her mom about that, too.

It may have been that phone call or it may have been just the way Jack did things. After supper he said, "I been thinking."

"Oh, no! Here it comes," she thought. A little part of her was relieved. She'd finally be done with waiting. But it was only a little part.

"I hear you and your friends are planning a Halloween party. Where's it going to be?" her dad asked her as they were sitting outside together on the porch swing after dinner.

"Mom said we could have it here."

"Fine with me. I want you to invite Otis Bailey to your party."

"DAD! It's just a girl's party. Two are going to stay all night. Freddy's going to spend the night in Elkton with Dallas Snyder so they can go trick or treating." That last sentence was said in such a disdainful manner that it was abundantly clear she thought boys were such children. She'd never be caught trick or treating. She was a young lady. She would, however, be more than willing to accept any of Freddy's treats he deigned to give her.

"Well, you either invite Otis or no party."

Millie was horrified. She looked to her mother for support. Her mother was on the porch, too, sitting in a straight chair, sewing a patch on one of Freddy's overalls. She ignored Millie. No support was forthcoming.

"Mom!"

"It's your dad's decision. Deal with him."

"Dad, that's not fair. Mom said I could have the party and I already told my friends. If you make me invite Otis nobody will come. You'll ruin my life!"

"I'm surprised you don't want boys at the party. You solve your problems like a boy."

Neither of them spoke for a spell. Millie knew what her father meant, that he was referring to her hitting Otis in the nose. The swing moved back and forth, back and forth, in silence. Then, her father said, "Tell you what. You can either have a girl's party or a boy's punishment."

"OK, whip me."

"You keep telling us that you're a young lady. I don't whip ladies. Young boys, either, if I can avoid it. What happened to Freddy when he went to Whitby's and didn't tell his mother where he was?"

"He had to pitch all the manure out of the heifer's box stall." And then Millie's mouth dropped open. "DAD, YOU WOULDN'T!"

"Either that or invite Otis to the party."

"But it's almost two feet deep and with all that straw it's hard to dig out. Anyway, you keep saying that farm work is for men and boys."

"I said field work. I never said anything about barn work."

"Same thing. Anyway, manure is icky."

"Well, I said my piece. Invite Otis to the party or clean the stall. It's up to you."

Actually, it was an easy but disgusting choice for Millie. It said a lot about Otis that Millie chose the manure. Jack let her work for about half an hour, and then, just as he had with Freddy, went out to help her. When he got to the barn, he found Freddy already there, pitchfork in hand and a kind of hand-in-the-cookie-jar look on his face.

"It's really hard work, Dad."

At that moment Jack Ferman couldn't have been more proud of his children. They were both good, caring kids. He knew not all siblings that age stuck up for each other.

It was hard work. They had to pitch it out a window that was as high off the floor as the kids' heads. Millie wasn't dawdling. She was trying her best. It was disgusting but it was her choice. She saw that Freddy could work faster and lift more than she could. Maybe boys, Freddy at least, weren't such children. Her arms were beginning to feel like lead, but she wasn't giving up.

After another five minutes Jack asked, "You had enough of being a boy?"

Millie hated to admit it but, indeed, she had. "Ya."

"Well, remember that next time you have a problem to solve. Do it like the little lady I know you are. Now, go on in and take a bath."