“Get Myself a Rocking Chair” is a novel by Nora Heiskell, age 12. Told from the first-person perspective of Katrina, the story is written in the past tense. The first chapter opens on lyrics to “Church Street Blues,” which is audible through the air above the town. We learn that the person singing and playing guitar is Peter McCumber, an odd man who spoke to no one. The townspeople all distrusted him, except Katrina’s father. We learn some more backstory about Katrina. Her mother died when she was four, and she lives with her father and their cook, Helen, in a small cottage. Helen has raised Katrina since her mother died.
When Katrina gets home from listening to the music, she changes out of her preferred overalls and into a dress, even though she does not like to wear dresses. Her mother’s mother is coming for a visit. We learn that Grandmother is very strict and has some old-fashioned ideas about what girls should and shouldn’t do. During dinner, Grandmother criticizes everything and everyone. Then, she goes to bed. Katrina, her father, and Helen sit and watch the sunset. The chapter ends like it began—with some more lyrics to “Church Street Blues.”
What makes the characters in this story strong?
This is only the first chapter, but already it is clear that this story is full of strong, distinct characters. The characters make themselves known to the reader right away. First, there is Katrina, whose narrative voice we follow throughout the story. The writer provides some degree of exposition about Katrina’s backstory. But much of what we learn about her comes from her preparations for Grandmother’s visit—the things she does, and the things she considers. It is through these details that we get our first glimpses into who Katrina is as a character.
I picked out the blue dress Father got me for my birthday. It was very lovely, but I hated dresses, and I wore overalls almost every day. But I knew that Father would appreciate it if I dressed nicely tonight because Grandmother was coming.
We learn a lot here right away about Katrina. We learn that she hates dresses and prefers overalls. We learn that she is close enough to her father for him to buy her a birthday gift. On the other hand, the relationship doesn’t seem perfect—after all, why didn’t her father know she hated dresses and get her something she would have liked more? Finally, we learn that Katrina is willing to make compromises to make her father happy. All of this just from one small moment of description!
Then there is Grandmother. Her character feels strikingly realistic, and also somewhat terrifying. A lot of what we learn about Grandmother comes from other people’s reactions to her. For example, we discover why Katrina wears a dress for her grandmother’s visit:
Anyway, Grandmother did not approve of girls wearing pants, so every time she came, I donned a dress and stuffed my overalls to the back of my closet, in case she happened to peek in.
Not only does this passage reveal a belief held by Grandmother, it also reflects that Grandmother is the sort of person who might go snooping in other people’s closets and criticize what she finds there. Finally, it tells us that Grandmother probably doesn’t know Katrina all that well.
Similarly, we learn a lot about Katrina’s dad’s relationship to Grandmother:
I stepped away from Father to see Grandmother standing beside him. She was very short, not much taller than me, but Father once said that was a good thing, because if she were any taller, she would be too intimidating to even talk to.
This moment helps us understand, as readers, something that wasn’t clear earlier—perhaps Katrina’s dad makes her wear the dress not because he misunderstands his daughter but because he is frightened of his mother-in-law.
Discussion questions:
- In this chapter, the writer introduces us to characters who will remain important to the plot throughout the story. First impressions matter. How do you think the writer hopes to portray the characters in this chapter?
- How do you predict that the characters in this story might change over time? Do you envision Grandmother becoming kinder? Will Katrina’s dad develop more of a backbone? How will Helen’s role in the story change?
Get Myself a Rocking Chair
Chapter One
Lord I been hangin’ out of town in that low-down rain
Watchin’ good-time Charlie, friend, is drivin’ me insane
Down on shady Charlotte Street, the green lights look red
Wish I was back home on the farm, in my feather bed
The soft music of the guitar floated through the still air. Smoke from a chimney could be seen above the rooftops of town.
Peter McCumber was an odd man. He spoke to no one, but he sang and played his guitar as if he was all alone in his own world. Nobody could remember the last time Peter McCumber had gone to church, let alone to visit somebody. The townspeople all kept their distance, as if he were ill or crazy or something. My father was the only person that would speak to him.
I was interested in the old man; there were not many elderly people in Emerald Hills, where we lived. The only other one was Mrs. Gaffney, the milliner. But, like everyone else, I kept my distance.
Our town, Emerald Hills, consisted of two neighborhoods. I lived at the very edge of the smaller neighborhood, closer to the part of town where all the shops were. My house was a tiny one-story cottage with whitewashed boards and sky-blue trim around the windows. I lived with my father and our cook, Helen. My mother died when I was only four, and I hardly remembered her. Helen came shortly after Mother died, and she had raised me for most of my life.
I opened the kitchen door, and a wave of delicious scents hit me. Helen hardly ever made anything hot in the summertime, but today was Friday, and Grandmother was coming. Helen had cooked a whole chicken and made mashed potatoes, which were a special treat. She had roasted carrots and for dessert there was a large chocolate cake hidden in the cupboard.
“Smells delicious!” I exclaimed, dropping into a chair.
“It’s nothing,” Helen said with a smile. “But I could use some help. Go change and then help me set the table.”
“Sure.” I left the kitchen and went into my bedroom. I picked out the blue dress Father got me for my birthday. It was very lovely, but I hated dresses, and I wore overalls almost every day. But I knew that Father would appreciate it if I dressed nicely tonight because Grandmother was coming.
My father’s parents had died before I was born, but my mother’s mother was still alive. She was a stately old lady, and very old-fashioned. She did not really approve of my father, because my mother had run away to marry him. But with time she had grown to tolerate him, and after Mother died, she helped us in some small ways.
Anyway, Grandmother did not approve of girls wearing pants, so every time she came, I donned a dress and stuffed my overalls to the back of my closet, in case she happened to peek in.
The dining room was set up nicely with a pale yellow tablecloth and flickering candles. Usually, we ate at the kitchen table, but as I’ve said, Grandmother was very stately and old-fashioned and did not approve of dining in the kitchen.
I helped Helen bring the various dishes to the table. Just as we finished, the front door opened and my father entered.
I could hear him taking off his hat and putting down his umbrella. He had been in the city, picking up Grandmother. I ran to him and wrapped my arms around him. “Hey, kiddo. How was your day?” he asked, squeezing me to him.
“Good,” I told him. Then I heard a loud sniff.
I stepped away from Father to see Grandmother standing beside him. She was very short, not much taller than me, but Father once said that was a good thing, because if she were any taller, she would be too intimidating to even talk to.
“Hello, Grandmother,” I said quietly.
She sniffed again. “It is not proper to come flying at someone like that. And Martin, you must not say ‘hey’— it’s so unrefined! When I was young, we stood in a line in front of my father when he came home from work, so as to greet him. We never flew at him like small animals!” she said.
That is what I meant about Grandmother.
Father smiled. “Katrina was just happy to see me. That’s all,” he said.
“Yes, well.” She sniffed again. “Really, Martin. I do think you should have named her Julia Margaret! That’s proper, you know! The first daughter named for her mother! Especially because her mother is now dead. Did you ever think about changing her name after my daughter died? It would make people see how much you were mourning her!”
Grandmother brought this up every time she visited. But Father always said with his quiet firmness that my mother had hated the name Julia Margaret and had not wanted to name her daughter that.
“Supper’s going to get cold. Why don’t we all head into the dining room and have a bite to eat?” suggested Helen, poking her head through the door.
“And really, Martin. Servants should know their place! They should not interrupt conversations! They should not talk at all!” Grandmother said.
“Helen is a dear friend, not a servant,” Father replied. He still spoke in the same calm manner that he always did, but I could tell he was aggravated.
Helen did not seem to mind Grandmother’s remarks. I saw her hiding a smile as she withdrew back into the dining room.
Dinner was mostly uneventful. Grandmother criticized everything from peeling paint on the walls to how Father’s wristwatch was seven seconds faster than the grandfather clock in the corner.
All the food was delicious, and so was the cake that Helen brought out after everyone had cleared their plates. Helen did not say another word throughout the rest of the meal. Of course, Grandmother had said that was the proper behavior for a “servant,” but I think she knew Helen was secretly laughing at her.
After dinner, Grandmother retired to the bedroom that was usually Helen’s. There were only three bedrooms in our house, so Helen would be sleeping in with me that night. “How Meg could be who she was when her mother is like that . . .” Father muttered as he helped Helen and I clear the table. Indeed, I hardly remembered my mother, but Father had told me stories about her, and it seemed like she and her mother were polar opposites. We went out onto the front porch after dinner was cleaned up. We often did this in the summertime, because it was too hot to go to bed right after dinner, and the sun was still up.
“I got a letter from my daughter this afternoon,” Helen said suddenly. “She is going to have a baby.”
“Why Helen, that is wonderful! Do you know when the baby is to come?” Father asked.
“In September.”
There was little else to say, so we sat in silence for a long while, watching the sky change from blue to periwinkle to violet and then finally, an inky blue. The stars appeared one by one, as if someone were lighting hundreds of candles to cut through the darkness. I leaned against my father’s strong shoulder and closed my eyes.
I think that I fell asleep against Father’s shoulder, because he woke me and I stumbled blearily into bed. The last thing that I remembered were the soft notes of a guitar and an old man’s voice echoing across the quiet town.
Found myself a picker friend who’s read yesterday’s news
Folded up page twenty-one and stuck it in my shoe
Gave a nickel to the poor, my good turn for the day
Folded up my own little folder and threw it far away
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Philadelphia, PA
Woodacre, CA
