'Oh, where have have you been, Billy Boy?'

HILL BILLY

 

Black and gray roofed farm houses dot the rolling wheat fields. As I look down from my narrow window seat on Southwest Airlines I recognize the tall red silos with their silver caps, standing like soldiers on a chess board. Soon my feet will touch Kansas where my heart has always been. I will see it, feel it, touch it, breathe it in. Mom, my dear widowed Mom, will be waiting for my huge hugs at the luggage rack.

 

Need I have worried? Of course not. There she is looking none the worse. She does, however, notice me noticing a new slight curve to her back. Quickly she lifts her shoulders, smiles like an angel and reaches me as I reach out to her. We are both so happy we can't stand each other and pull apart. 'Mom, leave my suitcase alone. I'll carry it, not you, ' means little until she tries to lift it. 'You win, Willard. Then she adds, 'Wait here, I'll get a cart for you.' 'Let's go, Mom.' Leaving the parking lot, she tries to hand me two bucks that I refuse.

 

'Will, are you ready to meet Uncle Harry's children?They're good kids. Be nice to them. Jake is the older boy. He's fifteen and a lot smarter than Billy's whose 8. But I love them both. They keep me busy, never sass me or talk back.' Guess what I'm making for dinner. Your favorite Jambalaya!' Jake likes it too but the boys will get roasted chicken with my super roast potatoes.' 'Mom, I'm already salivating.'

 

The house is cool, comfortable without air conditioning. Gentle winds come in the windows from two directions. Uncle Harry enters thru the kitchen door. Holding the tail of his plaid shirt is Billy. Uncle Harry and I shake, have a few insignificant words and he heads to the kitchen for a glass of ice cubes and dash of water. Jake shakes my hand. 'Glad you're here, Uncle Willard. Maybe you'll play tennis with me one afternoon. ' He leaves Billy with me and Mom. Billy is a good looking boy, kinda cute. His face is moon shaped, his eyes a soft blue. He looks at my Mom and with a question mark on his face he asks her if he can go outside to the hills again.  Before Mom answers, I ask him, 'What's on the hills, Billy?' He looks at me as if I am stupid and tells me the gnomes are on the hills. I look straight at Mom and ask her, 'What is Billy talking about. Gnomes?' Mom turns her head so Billy can't see her and winks to me. 'Don't you remember Willard, I wrote you about the gnomes who moved onto our hilly land. They're Billy's best friends. Now you be nice to them if you see them.' Billy, shyly thanks her and goes outside.

 

When I see him walking down the path to the fields, I ask her what gnomes. 'Can't you see, Son, can't you tell Billy isn't exactly like us? He's a bit backward, not 100% up to his age level and has no friends at school so he made up the gnomes. Lord, he has me believin' in those things already.'

 

Dinners, lunches, breakfasts made and served with love, clean towels in the bathroom, empty hangers in the closet waiting for my things, all tell me I am home, but I am not. My week flies by. Each day I watch Billy going into the fields, walking up hills until he disappears. Jake waits for him to come down every afternoon, well before it gets dark. One day I notice Mom packing lunch and later see Billy walking up the hill carrying the brown bag.

 

My short visit is over. It has been a wonderful respite from city life, being with my family, watching the wheat sway and dance in the sunshine. I say good bye to Uncle Harry and Jake, almost crush my Mom with tender love but don't see Billy. Uncle Harry calls him, Jake leaves me at Mom's car and goes searching for Billy. 'It's time, Mom. We better go.' I put my suitcase in the car trunk and head to the airport.

 

As I get out my plane ticket, I find two one dollar bills my Mom got into my pocket when I came. I can't help but smile. I find something else, a tiny piece of wood that somebody had shaped into an ugly person–maybe a gnome. It has a little leaf for a hat and chicken feathers for a beard. I fold it carefully in my white handkerchief and put it in my shaving case. On the plane I write a simple letter in all caps to Billy.

 

'Thank you, Billy. Next time I visit, please take me up your hills so I can meet your gnome friends.

 

Love, Uncle Willard.'