Off To The Beattys - Chapter 2

The next morning Ross got a phone call from Patton State Hospital

in San Bernardino, California. He had called them previously to

explain that his wife required medical attention for her mental condition.

They told him that some hospital officials should be arriving soon

to pick up Mary and bring her to the hospital. Elizabeth, age two, and

Lois, age one, stood quietly as Ross was on the phone. After the phone

call, Ross sat down on the sofa. Elizabeth and Lois carefully walked

over to the couch, where he picked them up to sit next to him. He sat in

silence but reminded himself of all the other things that needed his attention.

He had to make several phone calls to the social workers, as

well as fill out an application for financial relief through the county

agency. He also thought of how he would deal with his kids living in

foster homes and how they would deal with it too. Ross began to feel

the pressure build within, and it made him start to sweat.

He paused.

Suddenly, he felt tears well up in his eyes. Wiping them as fast they

appeared, he bowed his head, then got up and told his girls that he

would be right back. He headed for the bathroom and, once inside,

bowed his head in front of the sink.

He cried.

He began to talk softly as though to himself, but he was praying.

As he prayed, he admitted his weaknesses but asked for strength.

He asked God to take care of his wife and to help him through all of

this. He looked in the mirror and noticed how blood shot his eyes had

already become. What had seemed like an eternity in the bathroom, in

reality was only a few minutes. He wiped his face clean with running

water and made his way back to the living room. His girls, both cute

little brunettes with big brown eyes, looked at him cheerfully, kicking

their legs in the air since they were too small to reach the floor. He

smiled at them, and the tension in his stomach eased.

An hour had passed and Ross was drinking a glass of water as he

heard a car outside. Mary had her things ready to go, and they escorted

her out to the car. Ross walked with her and kissed her cheek before

she got in. As they drove away, Ross felt weak and went inside to eat

something and have more water.

He picked up the phone and called the social workers to see if they

were ready to go to the school to pick up his kids. They said they were,

and upon hearing their confirmation, Ross called the school and spoke

with the principal to notify him that he would be there soon to take his

kids out.

About a week earlier, Ross had personally visited one of the

county-approved places for the girls to live. He had noticed it was not

only a foster home, but was a ranch located in Alpine, California. He

had picked up the phone, dialed, and had spoken with Mrs. Beatty. She

and her husband lived on the ranch and took care of their animals. The

Beattys previously lived in a smaller house, but moved to a larger ranch

as their foster care grew. They had arranged a meeting, and Ross drove

there.

On the way there, it was sweltering inside Ross' car. His tie and

collar were both undone, and his gray fedora would have been soaked

through had he not placed it on the seat next to him. The soft sound of

displaced dirt on the road under his car was exchanged for louder,

earthier sounds of grumbling gravel as he approached their country

house.

As the mid-day weather heated up like an oven ready to bake oatmeal

cookies, it brought warm, dry air, and the Beatty ranch appeared

to be an oasis of hospitality. He grabbed his fedora and looked uncomfortably

conservative in his gray tweed suit. Dipping his hat, he

introduced himself. Mrs. Beatty, wearing a light-blue dress with white

lace ruffles and an apron tied around her wide waist, welcomed Ross

with a smile that warmed him beyond the 90 degrees outside.

They walked inside.

As if the ginger bread characters sewn on her apron weren't welcoming

enough, she had a pitcher of home-brewed lemonade, sweating

as it beckoned him. The sparkling ice cubes were dancing, diving, and

circling as she picked it up and poured him a glass. If it weren't for the

business at hand, Ross would have fallen asleep to the gentle humming

of the round, metal fan in the kitchen as it sent refreshing cold air to his

face. He noticed the bucket of ice placed in front of the fan to make the

air cooler. Then Mr. Beatty walked up the wooden stairs of the back

porch, stomped his heavy boots free of dirt, and opened the screen

door. He leaned over and kissed his wife, and then he gave Ross a

smile so wide that it covered up his eyes. He wiped his hands on his

faded overalls, cleared his throat, and welcomed him like they were

long lost friends.

"Hello Mr. Owens. I'm Harold Beatty. How are ya, sir?" he asked

as they shook hands like aging, amiable heavyweights.

"Just fine, thank you. You can call me Ross," he replied.

"My wife, Edith, here makes a mean glass of lemonade, don't you

think?" Mr. Beatty asked.

"Yeah she certainly does. I think I'll just let you describe how the

ranch looks, and I'll sit here with the pitcher," he said as they shared a

laugh together.

Mr. Beatty invited Ross to take a look around their house as well as

the ranch outside. He strolled through the living room, holding his hat

at his side, and followed the Beattys. They gave him a grand tour including

all the bedrooms. The house had all the touches of a benevolent

country home, with family photographs, hand-sewn coffee coasters

with houses stitched into them, a Bible on the coffee table, lamps with

doilies under them, wonderfully decorated rooms for young girls to

stay, and the smell of dust and cinnamon everywhere.

They took Ross outside, and they went over to the animals. The

heat had been long forgotten, but as they made their way to the horses,

the heat seemed to be an overbearing intruder. Ross took a deep breath

and turned slowly in a circle, capturing the panoramic moment in his

mind. He turned around, patted the horses, and then followed the Beattys

around the ranch until they decided that Ross had seen everything.

Whether he had seen the entire ranch or not, he knew that he missed

being indoors.

He looked at his watch and realized he had other errands to do.

They watched him and politely gave him the opportunity to get back to

his day's business.

"Thank you Ross for visiting us today," said Mrs. Beatty.

"It was my pleasure," he replied.

"Well, when you decide to bring your girls, we'll be here," said Mr.

Beatty.

 "Okay then," he added.

"Would you like more lemonade before you leave?" she asked him.

"I'd appreciate that very much," he replied. They walked back inside.

He finished two full glasses and eyed the pitcher. He would have

had two more, but he would have emptied it.

"Thank you both again. Take care and God bless," he said.

"You too, Ross. We'll wait to hear from you real soon," Mr. Beatty

added.

Ross got back in his car, undid his collar and tie, and placed his fedora

back on the seat next to him. They stood waving at their doorstep,

and he waved back. He drove off, exhaled deeply, and felt relief.

He got back home and went straight for his bed. Exhausted from the

drive and heat, he sat down on his bed and lay back with his arms over

his head and the top of his hands on his brow. He stared at the ceiling

and thought of the ranch. He remembered Mrs. Beatty and her brown

hair, curled into a perm, and Mr. Beatty's slicked back silver hair and

denim overalls. His thoughts, like the horses he had seen, galloped until

they put him to sleep.

After an hour he woke up and washed his face. He felt refreshed

and decided to make some phone calls to a social worker to find a place

for his boys. After talking on the phone, he went outside to find if the

car needed maintenance. He opened the hood and checked the oil level.

A friendly neighbor lady walked over to him. Mary and the lady were

friends, and she knew what had been going on lately with the family.

"Hello Ross. How are you doing today?" she asked kindly.

"Fine, thank you ma'am. How are you today, Tillie? How's John

and your children?" he responded.

"Just fine. Just fine. Ohh they're just doing swell, thank you," she

said while grinning the kind of smile that had as much gums as it did

teeth. "So have you found a place for the girls yet, hmmm?" she continued.

"Not yet, but I visited one today that was promising," he said politely

as he added motor oil to the car.

"Well if you can't find a home to take all those girls, I could surely

help. If it would be helpful, I wouldn't mind adopting little Esther.

With her short blonde hair, she's just cute as a --," she added.

"Adopt?" Ross answered abruptly. "My kids aren't up for adoption.

I plan on keeping my family together." He lifted the hood high and let

it shut. He wiped his hands on a towel, wiped the sweat off the top of

his head and forehead with his handkerchief, excused himself, went

inside, and shut the door.

After cooling down, he sat down on the edge of his bed and prayed.

A few days later, he called Mrs. Beatty to let her know of his decision

to send his girls there to live.

"Hello, Edith?" asked Ross.

"Yes this is Edith," Mrs. Beatty responded.

"This is Ross Owens. I'm calling to let you know I'd like for my

girls to stay with you at the ranch. I think it would be a good place for

them to be right now. There will be three at first, but perhaps after six

months, I'll bring the two little ones, Lois and Elizabeth," he said.

"Well good. We are planning to have other girls living here later

on, but as you know there is plenty of room. When would you like to

bring them?" she asked.

"Well, I'm working with a social worker on this, but I'm sure

within two days. Is that okay with you?" he asked.

"That'll be just fine, Ross. We'll be here," she added. As soon as

they hung up the phone, Mrs. Beatty began preparing a room for the

three Owens girls to stay.

Now, Ross found himself sitting in the front seat of his car, Elizabeth

and Lois in tow, trying hard to start the stubborn car so that he

could get his kids out of class and take them to their new homes.

Ross was physically prepared to go, but he wasn't emotionally

ready. To say he was ready to give his children over to new homes

would be to imply there was contentment in his life. He was not content,

especially with no certainty of the kind of life it would mean for

his children.

He drove to the school and headed toward the office building. He

asked for the principal. The man, who was older, lean and had a gray

mustache, acknowledged Ross and promptly had a secretary fill out

forms to summon Roger and Ruth out of class. She told her young student

assistant to go to each class and deliver the summons to each

teacher. The social worker was already there, waiting for almost twenty

minutes. Ross noticed him and greeted him as everyone waited.

In class, Roger sat reading quietly along with the rest of the students.

Ruth, in another class in an adjacent building, saw some of her

classmates raise their hands in eagerness to answer a math question.

They both watched as their teacher was handed a small piece of paper.

They were told to report to the principal's office right away. In both

classes, it was quiet enough to hear every "oooooh" from the other

kids. Roger and Ruth were shocked that they would be asked to visit

the dreaded principal's office.

While the teachers restored order, the brother and sister were off to

the main office building. Roger got there first, and then Ruth walked in.

They both were now slightly frightened at the sight of their dad. It

didn't matter that he was an imposing figure at six feet who had the

aura and look of a respected fire chief. It didn't matter to them what he

did for a living either, whether he was out to stop spreading fires or,

simply, was on fire for spreading the Gospel. At that moment, they just

knew that their father was in the principal's office. Ross told Roger and

Ruth the news and how they would be on their way to foster homes that

same day. The two were puzzled at how quickly things could change,

but nevertheless they trusted their dad's judgment.