Custody Battle, part one

On September 10, 1925, after Leta walked Vivian and Dale to school, she stopped for a few minutes to catch up with other mothers as she was wont to do, and then walked home to continue her chores for the day. She had breakfast dishes waiting and then she needed to clean the living room. If she had time in the afternoon, she would bake cookies for her loved ones.

Her sister-in-law Florence asked her to hem three dresses for her own little girls – Lucille and June. While Florence was a woman of many domestic talents, sewing was not one of them. As Leta was quite handy with a needle, she could easily make the necessary adjustments, and she would do it gladly. She already had two pairs of slacks to shorten for Dale. The weather permitted him to still wear short pants, but he would soon be nine years old, the weather would turn cooler, and it was time for him to graduate to long pants.

Summer had yet to turn to autumn. While nearly all the flowers were gone, the land was still green and the air warm and soothing, like an old friend. The sun danced merrily across the sky and smiled on everything. The air still held the scent of freshly mowed lawns, and migratory birds—robins, finches, wrens, orioles, blackbirds vireos, swallows, thrushes and chickadees—were still lounging in the trees with only a hint that leaves were turning. The buckeyes and acorns still hung in heavy supply—at least those not already purloined by the busy squirrels that ran from tree to tree in search of winter sustenance.

But Leta knew that the autumn would come suddenly, one evening the air would become too chilly to keep the windows open, and dampness would settle into the house, requiring them to light the furnace. The sun would shine, but selfishly keep its heat to itself. This would be followed by the short, snow-filled days of winter. And the days would fly by quickly.

As she approached her front porch, her thoughts were interrupted by a man sitting there. She saw him from three houses away, and at first thought he was a shadow. The closer she came, however, the more obvious his shape became. With the still in the basement, she felt some anxiety. He could be a federal agent come to inspect or a potential customer. While she had become comfortable with making corn whiskey in the basement of their home, and the selling of it, she had relied exclusively on her husband to manage their customers and any unsavory types that might intrude upon their home.

She paused in front of the neighbor’s house and looked carefully at the man. He was, at least, dressed in a dark gray or blue suit, with a dark bowler hat. For safety’s sake, she turned up the sidewalk of the house next door, where she knew her neighbor Mrs. DeLong would be enjoying her second cup of coffee before commencing with her daily housework. Leta tapped lightly on the door. A moment later the other woman answered.

“Leta!” she said with some surprise. “To what do I owe this early morning visit?”

“Please let me come in, and I’ll explain,” Leta whispered, and immediately, Mrs. DeLong ushered her into the house. They stopped just inside the door.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Mrs. DeLong inquired.

“There’s a strange man on my porch,” Leta said anxiously.

“A man?”

“I was just on my way home from walking the children to school, and from the down the street I could see him. See for yourself.”

The two women looked through the drapes, where they could see the man.

“He looks proper,” Mrs. DeLong said, “but you don’t know him?”

“Not at all. And he doesn’t look like a brush salesman.”

“Of course not. They don’t have time to just lollygag around. Besides, he didn’t come to my house first.”

“He looks official,” Leta said.

“And you weren’t expecting anyone?” Mrs. DeLong asked.

“No one,” Leta answered. “And Albert is at work.”

As far as Leta knew, Mrs. DeLong did not know about the alcohol making, so she did not mention that he could have been a federal agent. But her own nervousness infected her neighbor and friend.

“Hm,” Mrs. DeLong said, thinking. “Why don’t we try this? I will put on my coat and go onto your porch, as if I needed to borrow a cup of sugar. I can ask him what he’s doing there. Then I will report back.”

“But that could be dangerous,” Leta protested, and felt foolish right after the words came out.

“My dear, why on earth are you so frightened?”

“I don’t know,” Leta sighed. “It’s early in the morning. I usually don’t have strange men arriving at my door. I just have a feeling this isn’t good.”

“Then let’s proceed with my plan,” Mrs. DeLong said as she removed her apron. “You can watch from the window.”

To be continued.