Hunter Lake 3/100 Henry walks back to his home

HUNTER LAKE 3/100 Henry walks back to his home

Today was like the day Henry Setterholm returned, only it was Spring, fields not grown yet. Like Junior he carried on his shoulders, not grown yet either. Would take some time to teach him the ways of the earth, how to respect it so it would give back to you.

Then of course there was Alma, his wife and the mother of his children. But she was more than that. She held it and him together in a way that was difficult to explain. She was a strong woman and he wanted to talk over the truck invasion he had just experienced. Those Engineers were up to no good. He knew the stories. There were pipes about 4 feet under the surface of North Dakota farmland, and no record of their existence. The farmers had been convinced it was a good idea, especially when they heard how their neighbors had done it, and how the mayor approved it, and how all the permits were already there.

He walked across a field of prairie grasses that led up to his home. The winter snow crushed them flat, and when the melt happened they popped up and green shoots pushed their way out between the roots, searching for the sun like everyone else did after a long winter.

A smile spread across his war-weary face. The sun brushed his wool winter hat and spilled onto the exposed forehead, chin, neck and hands. His camo greens blended in with the tree break his dad had built. Pants tucked into his army boots, he stopped in anticipation.

The prairie sounds were back, the way he always heard them, a comforting blend of earth noises making their into his life the way they should. It wasn’t much and yet it was everything.

“Henry, speed it up, dinner’s on.” It was Alma’s voice, another song on the prairie, it caressed his ears like the rest of the sounds.

Junior patted him on the head. “Down.”

Henry placed him on the prairie grass and he raced through. His hat bobbing through a field that parted way as he ran towards the house. “Mommy, mommy, glebes.” Junior gleefully climbed up the concrete stairs to a kitchen door slightly parted to admit his excited entrance.

The white house looked molten gold in the afternoon sun. Already a few months into daylight savings, more of the evening stretched ahead. Henry looked back at Hunter Lake, it too reflected gold and sky blue. He sighed and his shoulders relaxed a little.

“He liked the bird mating dance, I see.” Alma smiled at Henry. He loved that smile, had thought about it for the four years he was gone. Nothing would shake his faith in a woman who stood rooted in the prairie.

“I swear, you seem taller every day.” Henry shook his head. “Maybe I’m shrinking.”

Then the laugh, the gentle quiet one that rose from inside her as she delighted in the world and the family that surrounded her. It was infectious, and even when he was in the foulest mood ever he couldn’t help but react with laughter.

“Hey, my friend June is coming over tomorrow, she’s been keeping tabs on the Water Board meetings, taping them; she’s gone to Bismarck, listened to the legislators, read all the new bills. Listen to her, I trust her perceptions.”

“I donno’, rather just work the farm.”

“I’d believe that, until I see you like this, kind of wigged out after what happened today.”

“Let’s eat.” Henry nodded his head.

“Kids, we’re ready.” Alma started bringing the hot food to the dining table.

The table stretched across the length of the hundred-year-old-house. On one side the windows opened up to the East, where flat plains stretched out endlessly. The stairs rattled with the footsteps of four girls. They poured into the dining area and took out dishes and flatware from the built-in buffet and placed them all around the table, the youngest grabbed cloth napkins and tried to fold them on all 7 plates. Henry sat at one end, with Junior in a highchair, Alma at the other, passing the plates around. One large bowl with steaming mashed potatoes dripping with butter, another with bright green beans from last years harvest, steamed from a bag right out of the freezer, slices of pan seared and roasted turkey breast.

“Alma, Ivy, Rose, Sunny, Paradise and Junior, I am so grateful to have these days and evenings with all of you. This beautiful meal was prepared by your mother, from the earth you all worked so hard to keep in our family while I was gone. I say this every evening, and I will continue to say that we live in a world graced by plenty and beauty, but it only stays that way because of what we do. Let’s eat!”

“Hey I want more potatoes.”

“You already had some.” The oldest, Ivy, sat up straight and stared at Paradise. She was used to keeping them in line.

“No I didn’t, you always hog them.” Paradise turned to Sunny her twin sister.

“Well what did she do to get so many?” Rose, the quiet one started to chime in.

“I want more potatoes,” said Paradise.

“Ivy, you’re not the mom of us, you can’t tell us what to do,” said Sunny.

“You just stay upstairs and text,” said Paradise sticking her tongue out.

“Shut up,” now Ivy was standing.

“Ivy and Mark sitting in a tree…” Paradise and Sunny rhymed together.

“Stop it.” Ivy’s tears rolled down her face.

“That’s it children.” Almas’ voice was calm.

“About those trucks.” Henry’s voice was loud, it put a damper on the whole argument.

“Goes for you too Henry, I told you, talk to June.”