Unable To Close the Distance
The Munson farm and orchard had combined
a local market trade—the bartering
of family surplus crops for metal goods,
molasses, liquor, salt and cloth—with one
where ample yields of produce, wheat and rye
found marketplaces far afield. The year
Wil drove a loaded cart of apples down
to Berwick, twenty miles away, his wife
had asked him to bring back some sewing needles,
buttons, and a hat for Wilmot Jr.
Jones Mercantile & Millinery stood
at Market Street and Second. Jones’s wife
—Wil had surmised—was measuring a length
of cotton for a customer. Wil browsed
the store for hats, and hoped perhaps, despite
the prevalence of Joneses . . . Someone asked
if he might be of help. As Wilmot turned
and faced the likeness of his younger self,
he knew his search was at an end. Benoni!
The terse reply, The name’s John Eton Jones.
John listened skeptically as Wil recounted
the sad events that ushered in this moment.
Rachel’s death. The willing wet-nurse friend.
The exodus in opposite directions.
His dying father’s quest to find the child.
John disavowed all knowledge of the Munsons,
but granted that he had a twin, Susannah,
that his late mother’s name had been Rebecca,
but brusquely brushed it off as happenstance.
The birthmark on his cheek told otherwise.
The chapter titled Unable To Close the Distance comes from Andrew Forster’s poem “Brothers”
COMING SOON: PART FOUR, CHAPTER FOUR
(the final chapter)
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