Free The Waltons 3 - The Easter Story by Robert Weverka Page A

got a feelin’ things are goin’ to get better, Sheriff.”
    Ep nodded. “Well, maybe you’re right. Can’t see how they can get any worse.”
    John-Boy was a little disappointed not to see his father’s truck when Sheriff Bridges dropped him off at home. Grandpa and Ben had the saw going, pushing a huge log through, and Jason was sitting on a woodpile plucking his guitar.
    “Hey, John-Boy,” Grandpa said, “you’re just the man we’re lookin’ for. These logs are heavy.”
    John-Boy put his catalogue and brochures aside and stepped in beside Ben. “How about Jason? He don’t look so busy.”
    When they finished the cut, Grandpa shut down the saw motor and sighted along the smooth edge. “Oh, we can’t expect a great musician and guitar player to risk gettin’ splinters in his fingers. No sir, Jason Walton’s done all the hard labor he’s ever gonna do in his life. So don’t anybody go askin’ him to pick up a broom or carry in any stovewood.”
    They all grinned and Jason struck a loud chord on his guitar. “I’m gonna win that contest, Grandpa. Then I’ll carry all the wood you want.”
    Grandpa snorted. “You win that contest and you’ll be expectin’ breakfast in bed.”
    “Yeah, at ten o’clock in the mornin’,” Ben said. He smiled at John-Boy. “I got an answer from the magazine company today, John-Boy. They’re sendin’ me two dozen magazines, and they should be here tomorrow.”
    “Hey, that’s great!”
    “With nobody havin’ any money, don’t know who you’re goin’ to sell ’em to,” Grandpa muttered. “OK, let’s run this log through again.”
    They slid the log back and made a second cut. “Where you been, John-Boy?” Grandpa asked when they finished.
    John-Boy told them about his conversation with Dr. Miller, and that the man was going to send them pamphlets.
    “You say this fella’s crippled himself?”
    “Yes, but he got the polio twenty years ago, Grandpa. Sister Kenny’s only been doin’ her treatments a few years. And even Dr. Miller thought it was a good idea to find out what she does.”
    “You mean maybe Mama can be cured and walk again?” Ben asked.
    “Well, now we shouldn’t get too excited about this,” Grandpa cautioned. “And it might not be a good idea to let your mother hear about it until Dr. Vance looks at them pamphlets. I reckon you’d better talk it over with your father first, John-Boy.”
    “How’s Mama feelin’?”
    “She hates those splints,” Jason said.
    Ben nodded. “And she’s gonna hate gettin’ in a wheelchair even more.”
    “Well, those are things everybody’s just goin’ to have to face,” Grandpa said. “We can hope for some kind of miracle cure, and maybe it can even happen. But don’t forget your Mama’s havin’ a lot of pain. Let’s not encourage her to do a lot of exercises, or take treatments that are gonna make it worse for her.” Grandpa suddenly had a gravely serious look. “And there’s somethin’ else I think every one of us ought to reflect on. Nothin’ would break your mother’s heart faster than havin’ everyone expect her to come out of this all healthy and walkin’ again—and then her not doin’ it. She’d figure she let us all down.” He gave each of them a solemn look and then smiled. “Now, how about if we get this log cut up?”
    Grandpa’s statement jarred John-Boy a little. He knew there was a lot of truth in it and he felt a little ashamed that he hadn’t thought things through that far. It would be terrible if she went through all kinds of tortures to please them, and then nothing happened. He resolved to be more cautious about his enthusiasms.
    They had finished the timber and were cleaning up the scraps of bark when John finally got home. The truck came rattling around the dirt drive and squealed to a stop, and he swung easily down from the cab.
    “Hey, Daddy, you got some new tires!”
    It was the first thing John-Boy noticed. The last time he had driven the