Hidden History by Melody Carlson Read Free Book Online Page A

“That is, if you don’t mind, Alice.”
    “Oh, I don’t mind at all. I love reading Father’s words.”
    Jane pulled out the big leather chair and smiled. “Well, if you’re doing the honors, it seems only fitting that you sit in his chair.”
    Alice was self-conscious about being the center of attention. A faint blush colored her cheeks as she sat downand put on her reading glasses. “Okay, I think this is where we left off, right after the part about occasionally imbibing bootleg liquor.” She cleared her throat and began to read.
    … Although I am not certain that this latter habit is common knowledge throughout our small community. For if it were, I am sure my father would be fined for breaking the laws of prohibition, or more likely, thrown in jail since he has no money to pay fines. Would I feel bad if my father were locked up in jail? I am not sure how to answer that question honestly. I realize that my father does provide for us in what I would describe as a random manner. He does put in his crops and, weather permitting, harvests them, but if it were not for my mother’s gardening and canning abilities, my fishing skills and the kindness of neighbors, I know we would go hungry more than we do. I should not complain about eating since it is really much better now that all my older siblings have moved on, although I know my father misses the extra farmhands. I miss them too, but not so much for their sturdy backs as for their companionship. I wish they would come back home to visit occasionally, although I know they probably will not, since they have not done so yet. I think I miss my sister Alice most of—
    “I had almost forgotten about Aunt Alice,” said Louise as she poured each of them a cup of hot tea. “Do you remember meeting her, Alice, back when we were little girls? She and her husband came to visit for a few days one summer.”
    Alice nodded. “Yes. She seemed quite old at the time, but I think it was only because she’d had a hard life. If memory serves, she was only a few years older than Father.”
    “That is right.” Louise handed Alice a cup of tea. “There were four others who were older than Aunt Alice.”
    “I know that Father came from a large farm family,” said Jane. “But I never really thought much about his siblings, since I never met any of them—except for Aunt Ethel.”
    “Aunt Alice, Father and Aunt Ethel were the youngest,” said Alice. “There were three other brothers and one sister. Of course, all but Aunt Ethel passed on long ago. Let’s see, as I recall, John was the oldest, and I think he lived in Michigan. Then came Martha, who died of typhoid as a child. Then there was Charles. He moved somewhere down south where his wife’s family lived—South Carolina, I think. And, of course, there was Dad’s favorite brother, Adam.”
    “Was he the one who died in World War I?” asked Jane. “I remember Father mentioning him in sermons a few times.”
    Alice nodded. “Yes, that was Adam, the brother who taught Father to fish. Father loved him dearly.”
    “Alice, I officially nominate you to be family historian,” said Louise. “I cannot believe you got all those names and the birth order straight. Will you write that down somewhere so we can keep track of it?”
    “Of course. I better do it before my memory begins to fade.”
    “That is a good idea, but I want to hear more of the journal. Please keep on reading,” urged Jane.
    Alice picked up where she had left off.
    … I miss my sister Alice most of all, but I wish her well with her new husband Asher. He seems like a good man and he holds down a steady job. I just wish they did not live so far away, but maybe it is for the best. Alice and my father never got along well. I am sure that was only because she spoke her mind to him. She did not appreciate his treatment of our mother, nor do I, and she was always quick to stand up for me when it came to my education. Every time my father decided it was