Miss Mannerly

Being addressed formally, he has no choice but to respond in like manner, but she can tell he does not like it, "And a good morning to you Miss Mannerly."

The sheriff saunters over and asks, "Marion, are you going to let me beat you at chess this afternoon."

"Sheriff Robertson, I am willing to play the game," she smiles faintly at him, and then continues, "but I'm not willing to admit defeat in advance. Are we still going to play our game in your office?"

"Yes ma'am if you don't mind. I have one man sleeping off a hard night, but he does not snore too badly. I will call for you about two o'clock." He walks off as several of the church goers stare after him and Peter Adams looks at her as if he wants to spank her for being a naughty child or worse.

Marion walks back to the boarding house with a light step, hoping the chess game will put an end to the Peter Adams problem, but fears the fire of that problem is still smoldering and may blaze again if she is not careful.

The sheriff calls for her at two o'clock and in fact they play two games, one before the drunken man wakes up, and the other, after Richard lets him go home. With the sheriff's front office door open and a mild breeze blowing into the building, Marion can be seen sitting across the sheriff's desk bent over the chess board. She looses the first game, miserably, and not quite so miserably, looses the second. They talk companionably about a variety of subjects and the sheriff's occasional laughter can be heard well into the street, along with her soft laugh, although not nearly so often. She tells Richard, "See, a little competition improved my skill. In another oh, say, twenty years, I may beat you."

As they walk out of his office they discuss if the impromptu chess game helped. She admits it may have only delayed the problem, but time will tell. Peter Adams may be difficult to persuade that she has no interest in him. Several local citizens have begun to use both of their names in a sentence, as if they are a couple, although her use of "Mister Adams" seems to be convincing those same citizens there is no link between the two of them.

"Well, let me get you home before the gossip tongues are hard at work on the two of us, creating a story of affection that will keep them occupied for many weeks. However, if I am honest, I might like to be considered as worthy of attracting your attention", he says as they walk out of his office.

"I guess it is fair for me to say that you have my attention", Marion admits. "But I will withhold my affection for the time being."

"Then, I will just have to work harder, won't I?" Richard asks, chuckling.

"Richard, please don't frighten me", Marion takes a step away from him.

"No, that was not what I meant. I suppose every human alive, wants some kind of affection, babies, children, even men and women. Simple affection is very different from passion or lust or the various forms of contact between a man and a woman. I'm not speaking too coarsely to you, I hope."

"No, but I think I may not have enough experience to understand some of what you are saying", Marion looks down at her feet as she walks down the walkway in front of the local businesses.

"Oh, I believe you have the intelligence to figure out most of it. But what I was saying is, simple affection, one person feeling comfortable with another, and being honest with each other, has a lot to do with affection. It is when there is a wall between people that problems occur. Perhaps I should use the word trust, rather than affection, although I believe they are much the same."

"You are quite the philosopher, are you not?" Marion asks, looking up at him, as he looks in the direction they are walking.

Richard looks down at her and grins, "I have my moments." But his face immediately returns to its usual solemn look. As he takes her arm to help her up to the walkway on the other side of the street, he continues, "Marion, I am a man. Maybe I am not always a good man, or an honest man, or even as God fearing a man as I should be, but what it all comes down to is, I am only a simple human person of the male species. I am a man. And you are a woman, a soft, caring, and I will add that you are beautiful, if it will not offend you, and a downright smart woman. But, you are a woman. There is something about the differences between a man and a woman, and I do not mean the passion part, that is a whole other matter, but this difference is in the way we see the world around us and the people we come in contact with. I am a man and fear no one. You are a woman and fear everyone. And that is true, at least to some extent, for all women and all men. So, I guess what I offer is affection, or trust, if you like that word better. And from you, I would like the same. Can we at least agree on that?"

"Yes, I think we can agree on that. But I am having a little difficulty understanding what form of affection you expect", her voice trembles slightly, as she responds.

"Oh, I don't suppose I am speaking of something like holding hands, although I should enjoy holding your hand. I do mean that I want to take you on a ride to show you some beautiful country and sit beside you at a nighttime fire. But I do not mean that I want to watch that fire with you on my lap, although I would enjoy that, too. I want to see your reaction when you catch a fish and hear your congratulations for me catching one, too." He sees a closed look on her face and wants to soften his words. "Now, I fear you have the wrong idea, but you see, you are probably not even twenty-five yet, and I am almost forty, so there is a great difference between us as to age and maybe even the way we were reared. But I feel something from you and I want to explore it. Never in my life have I felt comfortable enough to say these things to a woman, and you listen. You don't interrupt and you try to understand. That is quite something in a friendship, if that is what we will call this. But I want some of the same from you. And I believe when you can speak your heart, or deepest feelings in true honesty, we will be showing each other a level of affection, or trust, that we can be very comfortable with."

"Richard, I am a little nervous, and I really have no reason to be, but I am an orphan, at least for all intents and purposes. So you see, I know nothing of family, brothers, or sisters and have never had a human person, as you call yourself, to talk to, if I understand, what you are asking of me. I am not accustomed to showing affection to another of these people. But, if you will be patient with me, I should like to find my heart, so I can speak it to you. Does that make any sense?"

"Better than you know Marion", he says quietly, not removing the serious expression from his face.

"Now, if I happen to be riding by here", he says this as he opens the small wooden gate in front of Bertha Henderson's Boarding House, "and stop to say a word or two to you in the late evening, as I make my rounds, will you come out to the front porch or stand at this gate to exchange some words with me?" He allows her to walk through the gate, and then closes her inside the yard, with himself on the outside of the yard.

She looks up at him and for the first time today, gives him a genuine, rather than a forced, smile. "Yes, after all, it would be the polite thing to do."

"Good evening Miss Mannerly."

"Good evening to you, too, Richard. Or should I address you as Sheriff Robertson?"

"For the time being, perhaps Sheriff Robertson would be best. Again, good evening."

As she walks in the front door, Bertha Henderson calls from her kitchen, "Is that you Marion?" When Marion responds affirmatively, Bertha asks, "How was your chess game?"

Marion laughs lightly, and Bertha looks up from cutting an onion for her special Sunday supper of smothered chicken, because Bertha notices the laugh is more relaxed than she has yet to hear from the teacher, but she does not comment. Bertha then nods her understanding as Marion replies, "I lost the first match miserably, but I was a little better the second. I will need a great deal of practice to beat the sheriff, at his game."

"Then you better not try to play chess with Mister Chin. I hear he beats the sheriff every time."

"Yes, so Sheriff Robertson said."

"Well, I am glad you enjoyed your afternoon. The Sheriff is such a kind man, to be in that sort of profession. I suspect he is near old enough to be your father."

"I would not know Mrs. Henderson. We have not had a personal discussion that would allow me to ask for that kind of information. But I do agree that he is a kind man."

Wednesday evening, while walking on his rounds of the buildings along the main street, Richard stops for a moment at Bertha Henderson's Boarding House, to say a few words to Marion and Bertha, who are sitting on the front porch, enjoying the last few minutes of daylight. "Good evening ladies", he says, as he tips his hat to the two women. Both women respond that it is, indeed a fine evening. Richard looks at Marion and says, "I am going to play chess against Mister Chin tonight. Might I inquire if either, or both, of you ladies would like to come watch my defeat?"

Bertha laughs her booming laugh and says she hasn't enough energy left to walk that far two times. Marion thinks for a moment and says, "Perhaps I should come watch Mister Chin, I may learn something I can use the next time we have a game."

"Well, get your shawl and if you do not mind a very slow walk back to the office, while I check doors and windows, I will allow you to witness my loss." He turns to Bertha and says, "I shall walk her home afterward, Mistress Henderson, unless I am so fortunate as to win, then I shall see that Mister Chin does so."

Bertha responds, "Sheriff, I will not hold my breath for that outcome. Mister Scott says he can hear Mister Chin's laughter, all the way to the post office."

With her shawl over her arm, Marion joins the sheriff and the two make their leisurely way to his office, stopping at each building along the way. For the most part, Richard is silent. As they near the saloon, they hear the sound of classical music being played on a piano. At the open door, Richard stops for a moment and sticks his head inside, "I like that one Bobby. What is it called?"

Marion answers, "It's a Mendelssohn waltz, but I'm not sure which one", at the same time Bobby gives him the proper name for the piece of music.

Richard asks Bobby, "Might I have a small bucket of beer for Mister Chin? We are going to play chess tonight." And then he turns to Marion and says, very quietly, "My, my, Miss Mannerly, I learn something new about you each time I see you", while from inside the saloon Bobby says that the sheriff should finish his rounds and he will bring the beer over to the office in a little while, when he sees Mister Chin arrive.

As they walk toward the bank, then across the street, Marion asks, "Is this a usual chess night for you? And does everyone in town know about it?'

"Yes, I'm afraid this is the highlight of the week for many people. So, you may have a number of chaperones, although few will be in the room with us. But that is good, occasionally someone else will come by the office to watch for a while, my defeat is becoming a spectator sport. But it is also the best way I can spend a little time talking with you and have no one doubt my intentions."

Marion chuckles, hoping no one hears, but fears everything she does is being watched, she says quietly, "I believe I will need to consult my dictionary, but perhaps the word to use here is "devious"?"

"Thank you, I feared you might want to use dishonest or sly, which I do not intend", Richard says as he opens his office door.

When Mister Chin walks into the office, he says, "Teacher lady, come see sheriff loose? Chin have beer", as if it is a great treat for him.

Marion raises her eyebrows at the small Chinese man and says, "You need not pretend. I know you can speak English as well, or better, than I do."

After that, with the beer delivered, for the most part, there is silence for half an hour or so, in the sheriff's office, as Richard takes his time and Mister Chin watches the expressions change on the young lady's face, when one after another of Richard's chessmen are taken. Occasionally there is a short discussion on one topic or another and about midway through the game, the three of them talk about their favorite poets, while Mister Chin laments that they do not understand Chinese, as he has quite a repertoire of Chinese poems committed to memory. However, they do not translate well to English, and he becomes rather maudlin over their lack of understanding the nuances of the Chinese words as he tries to explain several small poems which have fewer than twenty words. When Richard admits defeat, the short Chinese man, after drinking the full pitcher of beer, is slightly tipsy. Mister Chin cackles his laughter and stumbles back to his laundry.

Richard keeps the front office door open after Chin leaves, checks the back door, turns off the lamp and locks the front door before beginning his escort of the teacher back to her room, after which he will go to his own room above the bank. "I hope you have not been too bored, this evening," he says, as he takes her shawl from her and puts it around her shoulders.

Marion replies, "Oh no, I had a wonderful time. I like Chin. He has an amazing memory to rattle off verse after verse of some ancient poetry."

"Yes, he does", Richard agrees, and then his voice sounds sad, "Chin is not well, you know."

"No, I did not know", Marion turns to look at him, surprise in her voice.

"He has something wrong with his breathing. He says the dry climate here helps, but not enough to reverse the problem", he explains. "I have noticed he has grown weaker in the last couple of years."

"Richard, how long have you been here, in this town I mean?" she asks.

"Well, I have been sheriff for three years, so I guess about that long. I was hired away from a larger town. But this is a good place to be, lonely as it is."

Marion asks, "How can you be lonely, everyone knows you, speaks to you, and they even watch you and your chess games."

"Oh that part is true, but being lonely is a little different from being alone. Marion you are alone, are you lonely?"

"I suppose, in some ways, I am lonely. As I told you, I am an orphan, or very nearly so. I can tell you about that some other time."

"Why don't you tell me now? It is a nice evening and the walk to your room is far enough to give some time for the story", he responds. "If we go slowly, and I take extra time to check doors and locks I can spend just a few more minutes with you."

"It is not such a long story. I was two years old. My parents left me with a neighbor. They took an afternoon to be together. It was their wedding anniversary. They took a small boat for a short time and did not return. The neighbor did not know where they went. She said nothing until the third day and by that time both of my parents had been buried in paupers graves. They would likely have been buried so, anyway, even had their names been known at the time. They had so few possessions in their rented rooms. The neighbor finally went through their things and found an old letter from my mother's uncle and she wrote him. But he did not want me and as she had other children, I was taken to a small school, managed by a benevolent Christian couple. A number of years later, I learned he sent an occasional donation, but I have never contacted him."

"God, I want to hold you and comfort you", he says with vehemence, "but I dare not, for fear someone will see. Does it embarrass you to know that I want to do that for you?"

"No, not really, I suppose that is an instance of the affection you spoke of the other day. Now that I think about it, I can begin to see what you meant. The couple was John Davidson and his wife, Mary. They were rather formal people, not given to demonstrations of emotion. And, as I listen to you speak of affection, I realize that I had little or no real affection as a child. Oh, I was very well cared for, there were always eight of us girls, with occasionally one or two more when a family situation prevented a girl from living at home. But the eight of us were all we had and we knew we were not a family. We were a classroom of girls, all very nearly the same age. We slept in our own narrow beds, in a long room, like a dormitory. Mary Davidson had been an orphan herself and wanted to give us more of a chance in life than she had, and training us to be teachers was her way of doing so."

"This uncle of whom you spoke", Richard asks. "He did not want to have you as part of his family?"

"I believe he was not a good man, I think that is the proper way to describe him. He gambled, drank rather heavily, and had no home, or if he did, it was with a woman, not necessarily a wife. From what Mary said, he would occasionally send a short note along with some money, perhaps when his gambling was more successful than at other times."

Richard takes her elbow and tugs her between the last two buildings, before they get to the boarding house, very quietly, he says, "Come here", and pulls her into the darkness. "Please do not be offended. I will not harm you." He slowly pulls her into his arms and pushes her head against his chest, allowing her the freedom to push back if she wishes. "Just stand here for a moment. I will not do anything but hold you. I want you to know I feel affection for you. If you are comfortable doing so, you can put your arms around me and offer me some affection, too." After a few moments, he says, "Come, I must get you home. It does not take very long to check the windows between these buildings."

When they are walking the last few steps to the gate, Marion says, "Now I understand. I believe I had a small fear of you. It is gone now. I am grateful for the affection you offered."

He chuckles a little, but very softly, "If I understand such things, I also received and feel better for it."

Richard says nothing further, not even after closing the gate, but tips his hat and walks back to climb the stairs to his room above the bank. Nor does Marion speak, but goes to her room, undresses for bed and does not even notice her tears falling as she pulls her nightgown over her head and gets into her bed.

For several weeks, there are only minor conversations between Marion and Richard. And they nod when they see each other, or speak politely after church on Sunday. Several times he stops by the boarding house to exchange a few words in the late evening as he makes his usual round of checking doors and windows. Marion begins the cutting and sewing of her winter cloak. Richard takes a young man to the state capitol for a trial and sees he is delivered to the prison after being caught with six of a local rancher's cattle in a pen behind his house.

Peter Adams seems to have gotten the message. He will occasionally call her Mary Ann and just as often calls her Miss Mannerly. The young widower marries his bother's sister-in-law, who comes to visit her sister. And Richard continues to loose every chess game to Mister Chin, while Mister Chin's health, slowly, almost imperceptibly, continues to decline.

On the Wednesday evening, after Richard's trip to the capitol, he stops for a moment in front of Henderson's boarding house. Marion is sitting alone, with a lap full of material sewing tiny stitches along the side seam of the cloak. The material is so dark she needs the sunlight to see the thread.

"Good evening Miss Mannerly. I see you are very industrious this evening."

"Yes, Sheriff, I am making a cloak for winter. I believe the winters here get quite cold."

"Yes ma'am they do. I shall play a game of chess with Mister Chin tonight. Would you care to watch his victory over a much lesser opponent?"