ONE FINAL INDIGNITY

The year that Jenny was thirteen and was finishing up the eighth grade., the Painters lost their farm, having been unable to pay their taxes in some years. The bank had been lenient, but it was time to foreclose. Dad bought the quarter section of good land at a reasonably low price. The Painters had been given a specified date in which to vacate the premises and that date had passed, but they showed no signs of getting ready to move. It was spring and time for Dad to begin working the land. He also wanted to tear down some of the out buildings such as the old barn and a storage shed, so that he could use the lumber to build a cob house and some other places for storage in their own yard.

For the first time in eight years, he drove down the lane to the Painter house and the minute he stopped the car, he was confronted by Hank, who had seen him coming.

“All right. Get out of your car and fight like a man,” was Hank’s greeting. He had to hold on to what pride and honor he had left. Knowing that his arch enemy had bought his farm and his home was a bitter pill.

“I didn’t come here to fight. I came here like a gentleman to ask you when you are planning to move.”

“Well, I’ve got sickness.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had sickness.”

“I’ve always got sickness.”

“Would two weeks give you enough time? I don’t want to have to call the sheriff to evict you. I’d rather you leave on your own.”

Hank replied with a shrug and a scowl.

Dad drove back home, fearing that things might get nasty and that he might have to resort to calling in the law, but in two weeks they could see the aging Model T drive past loaded with household goods and heading toward town. In a month they were gone.