and cynical, and now her children were following her example. Mr. Van Lunn had been a deacon in the church and all the family had attended church regularly. But none of the family had been to church since their father’s funeral, despite the entreaties of the pastor and friends. Soon Donna returned from her visit to the new neighbors. “Mother,” said Donna excitedly, “ you simply must come and see Mrs. Lennox, our new neighbor. You will really like her. Why, you would think that they had been here a week, they are all settled. And what do you think? They owned a large ranch in the Texas Panhandle, oil was discovered on their property, and they sold the ranch to a large oil company. They thought this house was in the suburbs with a couple of acres of land around it. They feel all cramped up. I reckon they won’t stay long. But I wish that they would stay — they are so different.” Donna final ly had to stop for breath. “ Donna, I’m surprised at you!” ex claimed the indignant mother, “What do you mean by saying that you want such uncouth folks to live in our district?” “ Mother, just because they arrived “ ranch-style” doesn’t make them un couth. I thought they were, too, judg ing from their furniture. But I guess that Lincoln was right. Furniture doesn’t make the neighbors. Come and see!” Reluctantly, Mrs. Van Lunn con sented. She put on her best dress, fixed her hair, and powdered her face. “ I must show these people the class of folk that they have moved among. I hope that you are right about their not liking this place and that they
some mistake had not been made. Soon a blonde girl emerged from the rear seat of the car followed by an older dark-haired boy. They were all brown as berries. The boy spied Lin coln and greeted him with, “ Hi-ya, neighbor. Is this Proctor Boulevard?” “Howdy,” responded Lincoln. “Yes, this is Proctor Boulevard all right.” The tall man, who evidently was the young folks’ father, scratched his head and looked puzzled. “Ma,” he said, “ It surely looks as if we have made a mistake. This doesn’t look like the picture that the real estate man showed us. He said there was lots of land around the house. Fifty feet on each side — reckon he thought that was lots of land! But we’ll have to stay here for today, any how.” Lincoln ran into the house laugh ing. “Well, mother, you’re surely right. There was a mistake all right. The new neighbors don’t like this dis trict. There’s not enough room for them!” By night both Donna and Lincoln were bursting with curiosity. Where did these folks come from? Why had they bought a house in this fashion able district? Mrs. Van Lunn was curious but she wouldn’t let the chil dren know that she was. “ Children, perhaps you had better go next door and welcome the new neighbors. Even if they are not our kind, remember, we Oklahomans are considered to be friendly folks. We must swallow our pride and at least call on them and say ‘Hello,’ ” Mrs. Van Lunn said rather reluctantly. While her husband was living Mrs. Van Lunn had been a kindly woman, but after his death she became cold
I t w a s Saturday morning when the belongings of the new neighbors arrived at the house next door to the Van Lunn residence in the fashion able Proctor Boulevard district. When the movers began to carry in the old- fashioned furniture, the Van Lunn children ran into the house to tell their mother about the new neighbors. “Mother, look at the old-fashioned furniture that is being moved into the house next door,” exclaimed the teen age Donna Van Lunn. “ Surely, there’s some mistake.” Mrs. Van Lunn peeked through the window curtain and said, “Well, I certainly hope that there is some mis take. What kind of a neighborhood would this be if we are to have folk like that in it!” “Neighbors like what?” asked the practical minded twelve-year-old Lin coln Van Lunn, “ I don’t see any neighbors yet.” Donna sniffed, “ Oh, there you go again with that practical mind of yours. Of course the folks aren’t there yet, but if you see a man in a worn- out coat, can’t you tell what kind of a man he is?” “No, I can’t,” retorted Lincoln. “ I don’t think that clothes make the man, and I don’t think that furniture makes the neighbors.” Mrs. Van Lunn looked at Lincoln in amazement and said, “ For a twelve-year-old that is a pretty good conclusion. Donna, Lin coln may be right. Let’s wait and _ jj see. Later in the afternoon when an old ranch station wagon drove up next door, and a tall, sun-tanned, middle- aged man s t e p p e d out, followed by a woman in a short yellow jacket, Lincoln himself began to wonder if
43
APRIL, 1959
Made with FlippingBook flipbook maker