Tall Tail

Thursday, August 4, 2016

“I thought I heard someone out here,” Mignon greeted Harry.

“Sorry, I tried to be quiet.” She finished spreading the mulch on Penny Holloway’s front plantings.

“You were, but the truck makes a rumble. I’m taking a brief break from making notes with the governor. Perhaps sometime I can interview you, since you know the family so well. And Susan is your best friend.”

“Most days. Other days we fuss.”

The petite woman laughed. “Family history is how I became interested in Virginia history and beyond. Like the Holloways, the Skipworths have been here a long time.”

“Well, you’re standing on a pile of history.” Harry smiled. “Big Rawly goes back before the Revolution. French inspired, all these buildings. Gives it an exotic look.”

Mignon replied, “You do know the history around here.”

“I was raised here, but a year ago I found myself learning a lot more about The Barracks prisoner-of-war camp. Also, I’m a congregant at St. Luke’s Church, which was the first Lutheran church this far west.”

“Very beautiful. Designed by an Englishman. Working for the governor, I’ve been poking around western Albemarle County. Everyone focuses on Monticello and Ash Lawn and, of course, the University of Virginia, but a great deal happened out here. It was the Wild West for a while.” Mignon clearly enjoyed research, her work.

“Funny, isn’t it? Nothing is really lost. We just have to find it.”

“Good way to put it,” Mignon agreed.

“If I learn about the past it’s usually through farming practices, seeds, livestock,” said Harry, ever the farmer. “My paternal family has farmed here since shortly after the Revolution. The apple hasn’t fallen far from the tree, and as you know, lots of apples in Virginia.”

“Oh, yes,” Mignon said and chuckled. “Just this morning when I was reviewing the governor’s first year in office as governor, he recalled the primary crops, which were corn followed by apples. He keeps right up with things. He informed me that Virginia now ranks sixth in the nation for apple production, ten thousand four hundred acres devoted to apples, one hundred ninety-five million pounds of apples. He’s amazing how he can remember details. Can rattle off figures from the past and the present. He told me that the owner of all the land on the other side of Garth Road first started big apple orchards.”

“Ewing Garth,” Harry added.

“Yes.”

“Garth also grew peaches and pears, the old varieties. If I ever get rich, I am going to devote myself to growing the old varieties.”

“I’ve never heard anyone say that. They usually say if they get rich they’ll buy a new car, pay off debts, vacation in Hawaii.”

Harry looked toward the Blue Ridge Mountains. “What could be more beautiful than that?”

“That’s the truth,” Mignon enthusiastically agreed.

Another attractive woman came out the front door. “Mignon, he’s asking for you.” She then looked up at Harry.

“Harry Haristeen,” Harry introduced herself. “I promised Mrs. Holloway I’d deliver some mulch, and so I have.”

Relief crossed her face. “Good. I’m Rebecca Colman. I’m here part-time since Barbara Leader’s unfortunate accident. I’m learning what a good nurse she was,” Rebecca said.

“Penny finally told the governor,” said Mignon. “He was so upset. Rebecca, he’ll warm to you. Just tell him he’ll outlive us all.” She smiled.

As Harry drove out, she passed Sheriff Shaw and Cooper arriving in Rick’s squad car. She figured they had received the medical examiner’s report on how Barbara Leader had died. These tests and reports often take weeks. This report was quickly done, no doubt because the deceased had been tending to an ex-governor.

Harry expected the news wouldn’t be good.