Inside the Walls

Copyright © 2011 by Victoria Rhodes

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Certain characters in this work are historical figures, and certain events portrayed did take place. However, this is a work of fiction. All of the other characters, names, and events as well as all places, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-4502-8936-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4502-8938-2 (dj)

ISBN: 978-1-4502-8937-5 (ebk)

Printed in the United States of America

iUniverse rev. date: 02/03/2011

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 1

Polk County, Missouri

April 1892

The morning sun’s rays filtered through the cracks in the barn. Seventeen-year-old Daniel Frye squinted as his eyes adjusted to the brightness. He shifted uncomfortably on the makeshift bed of hay. This had been his bed for the night. His clothing and breath had a lingering rancid odor of dandelion wine. It had been the wee hours of the morning when he managed to stagger home from frolicking with his friends at the river. Fearful of his father’s wrath if he were to be awakened, Daniel had chosen to sleep in the barn.

DANIEL! Jonathan yelled. WHERE ARE THEE, DANIEL?

Daniel jumped from the hay and quickly brushed his clothing clean. He peered through the barn door at his father, who briskly walked from the house towards the barn carrying the leather strap he routinely used to discipline his children.

Jonathan Frye was a man of few words and impenetrable emotions. With strong religious beliefs and dutiful family values, he ruled his home with a razor sharp tongue.

Daniel swallowed hard. He grabbed the wooden milk bucket from the floor and hurried out to meet his father.

Here, Father. He straightened his back and forced a smile. I was just about to do the milking.

Jonathan grunted. I have been calling for some time now. Why did thou not answer?

Daniel’s face was flushed. I apologize, Father. I awoke earlier than usual and went to the hillside to meditate and pray. I suppose I was out of earshot and did not hear you.

A distrustful look crossed Jonathan’s face. I see… and what, may I ask, did the good Lord relay to you this morning?

Daniel’s fingers fidgeted on the bucket handle. He did not like lying to his father, but he felt his father did not understand him. Sometimes, he felt he didn’t even understand himself. He told me to get back home quickly, as there was work to be done, he responded with a half chuckle.

With a frown, Jonathan shot back, Do not mock our Lord! He does not take kindly to thy humor. Mother is preparing the morning meal and needs help in dressing and feeding the young ones. When you finish there, hurry with the chores and then hitch up the horse and buggy. I have promised our Brethren that we would help fix the broken windows of the schoolhouse. Now get a move on!

Yes, Father. Daniel sheepishly tucked his head and hurried towards the house.

The Frye family farm lay at the foot of the gently undulating hills of the Ozarks. The community consisted of the Friends meeting house, burial ground, and other nearby Quaker farms. The homes and meetinghouse displayed neat paneling of well-trimmed shutters. The exteriors were built to last with serpentine stone, displaying simplistic taste and refinement. Inside, the dwellings were bare of furniture, except the practical necessities.

In the Frye home, a huge oak table with six walnut cane-bottomed chairs and two youth chairs sat in the middle of the main room. Near the hearth was a small round table covered with a crocheted doily, a lantern, and the family Bible. There were three sleeping rooms. Daniel’s parents had a room, Daniel and his two brothers shared one and his three sisters another. Each sleeping room had one small oak chest and narrow beds with brightly colored quilts. In the kitchen area was an iron stove in the center of the room and open front cabinets, filled with neatly stacked dishes and utensils.

Outside the main house, there was a smokehouse, outlying sheds, two barns, a root cellar, and a spring house. Rainwater ran through the gutters, then siphoned into barrels to provide the family’s drinking and bathing needs.

Life was simple, though painfully austere. The men worked the land with mule-drawn implements. They planted and harvested crops consisting of sweet corn, pumpkins, squash, and beans. After harvest, the produce would be sold at the community market, or taken by rail to large produce auctions. Most of the farmers had hogs, cows, and sheep. The womenfolk tended the vegetable gardens, prepared the family meals, and cared for the children.

The Society of Friends beliefs were based on the doctrines of honesty, non-violence, justice, simple living, and tolerance. Their worship service consisted mainly of sitting quietly while individuals reflected upon God. Men and women met separately for worship, the men at the meetinghouse and the women in the homes. Children were taught at a young age the beliefs of their elders and were expected to live according to the rules set forth.

Daniel was a birthright Friend. Tall and lanky, he had the coloring of his forefathers with sandy blonde hair, sharp blue eyes, and portrayed handsome features. As the first born son of Quaker parents, he shouldered the responsibility of becoming a man long before his young age was ready. His impressionable years of boyhood were spent in daily walks with the elders, stringent studies, and farm chores.

Daniel went inside to assist his mother, Agnes. He watched as she washed her hands in warm water on one side of the stove, and then began preparing their morning meal.

From the corner of her eye, she studied Daniel as he took bread from a large metal box on a shelf, sliced it, and then stacked it high on a plate. It was several moments before she spoke. I see Father found you, she said.

At first, Daniel did not turn towards her, did not look at her. In fact, he barely moved. Then he faced her and flashed a flimsy, one-sided grin as he shrugged his shoulders. He hiked his chin up a notch, refusing to let his nervousness show.

Agnes read his expression with uncanny accuracy. With a shake of her head, she dropped the matter at hand and said, Please help seat the young ones and carry the food to the table.

Realizing the conversation with his mother would go no further, Daniel let out a sigh of relief and immediately did as she asked of him.

Agnes Frye had lovely features and a slim figure. She wore her long blonde hair wrapped tightly in a bun, dressed modestly in a calf-length calico dress, and always wore a stiff starched white apron. She had graceful qualities and gentle ways. Unlike her husband, she was raised in a somewhat liberal Quaker home, and had the privilege of a formal education. Her thirst for knowledge was passed down to Daniel. She had taught him to read and write at a young age and for that, he was scholastically ahead of others at his school. Sometimes, she felt Jonathan was too harsh with Daniel, but she rarely, if ever, argued with her husband over the discipline of the children, and never challenged him.

Agnes and Jonathan had met at the age of seventeen and married shortly thereafter. Within the first year of their marriage, she gave birth to Daniel and they moved from Pennsylvania to Missouri to join others of their faith.

After the morning meal was finished, Agnes methodically lined the younger children in a row and carefully checked behind their ears and under their fingernails for any unsuspecting dirt. Without speaking, she slicked down their hair with the palm of her hand and straightened their shirts.

Mother, fourteen-year-old Amos whined, I am almost a man. Is this necessary? You do not insist that Daniel endure this torture!

You call this torture? Agnes asked as a grin flashed across her face. I do not see how preparing you for your studies is a form of torture. Neatness and cleanliness are signs of holiness. As far as Daniel is concerned, he will be helping your father today. When the windows are repaired, then you may return to the schoolhouse with others of your age, but until then, you will be joining your younger brothers and sisters here for class.

Amos frowned. Why can I not help Father repair the windows? I would rather work at his side than read from the books. I don’t see why I need to have any schooling. It’s senseless in my mind.

Agnes crossed her arms and studied her second to the oldest son. I see. What, may I ask, are you planning on doing with your life, young man? Without a proper education, you will have few choices.

I want to be like Father. I want to farm our land, Amos answered without hesitation.

Do you not think your father has knowledge of things other than farming? While it is highly commendable that you want to walk in his footsteps, you must realize that reading and writing are very much a part of being a success in whatever endeavor you may choose. Amos, I do not have the time or the energy to argue with you this morning. Please lead your brothers and sisters to their chairs, and I will be with you momentarily. With that said, Agnes turned and went to the kitchen to finish the morning cleanup.

Daniel stood in the doorway and watched his siblings march like ducklings in a row towards the table, and quietly and obediently take their designated seats. Two-year-old Sarah was the youngest and squirmed uncomfortably in her chair, while making faces at the others. Daniel smiled to himself and then turned and studied Amos’s frown. Inside, Daniel felt a pang of jealousy. Sometimes, he wished he could be like his younger brother and have the same love for the farm, but he didn’t. Daniel wanted more out of life. He just didn’t know what the more was.

After his chores were finished, Daniel loaded the carpenter’s tools in the bed of the wagon and sat with reins in hand, waiting for his father to join him. The two-mile ride was virtually uneventful. They did not speak. Daniel whistled a low tune and inwardly marveled at the beauty of the countryside. The wild flowers were in full bloom, and he would catch an occasional glimpse of a rabbit or deer scurrying across the well-beaten path.

At the schoolhouse, three other men joined them. All were dressed in loose fitting black pants, suspenders, straw hats, and white cotton shirts. They greeted each other with a firm handshake and a pat on the back.

I do not understand this, one man remarked as he shook his head. Our youth have become rebellious in some ways. I hear they are sneaking from their homes during the night and meeting at the riverbank, where they partake of evil spirits. Rumor has it that there is drinking, smoking, and God only knows what else going on there. My son, Isaac, says he heard that two of the boys made their way here to the schoolhouse the other evening and, in an expression of anger towards God, threw rocks at the windows.

The men gasped in disbelief. Daniel stood back, trying to hide his smile. He knew the incident had nothing to do with either anger or God. He and his best friend, Adam, were just after the biscuits that Miss Abigail kept in a basket under her desk. Their wine drinking had led to hunger and that was the only food they could think of, without going to their respective homes in a drunken stupor. He looked up to see his father staring at him. His grin immediately changed to a forced frown. How dare those who would do such a thing! Daniel mumbled, again trying to hide his smile.

The man continued, Isaac also told me that he heard there were even a couple of young ladies at the river. Can you imagine such a thing? What on earth were they thinking? If my children are involved in any way with these shenanigans, I will whip them until the flesh peels from their bodies.

Amen, the others agreed in unison.

Amen, Daniel whispered with a grin, again looking up just enough to see his father glaring at him.

Jonathan took a step towards his son. He frowned as he sternly asked, Daniel, do you know anything about this?

No, Father, Daniel answered as he wrung his hands and shrugged his shoulders.

As the doubt crept in his eyes, Jonathan asked, Are you sure? Surely you have heard something. Young ones talk among themselves, though not to their elders, as they should. We must have the names of those involved, so we may correct their evil ways and set them straight with the Lord.

Daniel’s eyes met his father’s as he slowly began to speak with calm conviction. Father, perhaps you and the Brethren are making too much of the situation. Perhaps, the ones involved were just having some fun and enjoying themselves. Don’t you think the good Lord wants us to have some time to enjoy life, rather than just work from sunup to dark…

He was unable to finish as Jonathan’s palm struck him hard against the side of his face, sending him sprawling backwards into the dirt. How dare you speak in such a manner! The fire of self-righteousness burned in his eyes. Go sit in the wagon until we finish! For the sin you have just committed by thy utterance, you will be denied food for the next three days. Perhaps the cleansing of thy body will also cleanse thy tongue and soul.

Daniel slowly rose to his feet and rubbed his face. The pain was excruciating from the blow his father had delivered, but the disapproval of his father was even more painful. Inside, he was confused. Daniel was filled with compassion and love for others and his God, but he had a sense of restlessness in his soul. At night, he would lie in bed and wonder what life was like outside of the community he had been raised in. He would imagine himself traveling to cities that were only words to him now. The silence and solitude of his present surroundings were suffocating the very life from him.

That night, Daniel lay awake with hunger pains gnawing at his belly. It was shortly after midnight when he caught a glimpse of a shadowy silhouette through the lace curtains. He tiptoed to the window and saw his friend, Adam, motioning for him to come outside. Quietly, so not to awaken his brothers, he slowly lifted the pane and crawled through, carefully closing the window behind him.

Once outside, Daniel and Adam crept along the side of the house, making their way to the back. Feeling they were safely out of the home’s view, they darted towards the hillside and ran for nearly a half-mile before stopping to catch their breath. Exhausted, they took cover under a clump of trees.

Adam, what are you doing here? Are you crazy? Daniel gasped as he fought for air. "You realize our fathers suspect that we are sneaking out at night, don’t you? We must be careful. We cannot take chances like this, at least for a while, until