Bringing Ezra Back (11 page)

I pointed to my Barlow hanging at my side, and she looked at it doubtfully. “Nobody here would blame you if you backed out and went on home,” she said.

I felt too hopeless to speak.

Little Miss Mary continued, “But, like I said, Calvin and me talked it over a good bit. We thought of a way you just might do this.”

I looked at her. “How?”

“Well, your friend here is weak as a newborn kitten from being shackled. He barely eats enough to keep alive. He barely
is
alive, if you see my meaning.”

My feelings at that must have shown on my face, because Miss Mary went on quickly. “So you'll need a place to hole up for a while. Someplace Trask won't find you if he comes looking, and I expect he will. Someplace close, 'cause you won't get far with him the way he is, even if he wasn't shackled.”

“I got a place,” I said. “But I don't know if I can get him there. It's—”

She held out her hand to stop me. “Shhh. Don't tell me. If Trask suspects you had help, the less we know, the better.”

I could see the sense in what she said, and I tried to calm myself and listen.

“Once you get to your hide, you stay there for a while. Three, four days, however long it takes for him to get his strength up,” she was saying. “It'll give you time to figure a way to get those shackles off. Assuming Trask doesn't find you in the meantime, of course,” she added.

“We'd best get started,” I said.

She nodded. “I wanted to be sure you knew what you were getting into,” she said. Then she handed me a sack. “This here's food.”

She signaled to Pea-Head and Calvin, and they came over and helped me get Ezra to his feet. He didn't raise his head, or twitch a limb. A quivery feeling, like hundreds of little fish were swimming through my insides, rose up in me. It made me feel weak, and I tried to fight it down.

I'd been real scared before in my life, when I'd been stalked like an animal through the forest by the killer called Weasel. But I'd never felt so afraid as I did right then. Looking into the emptiness of Ezra's face frightened me so bad I wanted to run and not stop till I got home to the farm.

Miss Mary was staring at me with a concerned expression. “It's not a fit job to ask of a boy,” she murmured to the others.

I shook my head. I could do it. I
would
do it. Holding the sack of food in my left hand, I braced myself as Pea-Head and Calvin draped Ezra's arm over my right shoulder. I grasped him around the waist. He flinched from my touch, like he'd been burned, and grew stiff. It made me sadder than anything that he didn't know me, didn't know I'd never hurt him.

“Come with me now, Ezra,” I said, soft and gentle as I could. “It's not far.”

We took a few slow, shuffling steps. The chain between Ezra's shackled ankles clanked faintly. The rustle of old, dead leaves beneath our feet seemed louder, somehow, filling each step with fear of waking the Trasks.

Miss Mary walked alongside us, looking scared and worried, too.

“Thanks to you, Miss Mary,” I whispered. “To all of you. I wish—”

She broke in and said, “You just get home safe, you hear?”

I swallowed hard. “I will.” I looked back and saw Calvin, Pea-Head, Betty, and Amelia watching us, their faces full of fear and hope.

“I will,” I said again, trying to sound like I was sure, and wishing I could be.

Ezra and I made our slow and painful way through the night. I didn't dare look back, or think ahead any farther than the next step.

14

THE SUN WAS GIVING
off a pale light and I was more exhausted than I'd ever been by the time Ezra and I made it to the overturned cart. I don't recollect much about getting there, other than being glad for every step we made without falling or getting caught by Trask.

Somehow I pushed and rolled Ezra underneath and crawled in behind him. Then I thought to get water from the creek for what would likely be a long day hiding in that small, closed space. I worried what Ezra might do while I was gone. But when I got back, he hadn't moved at all, far as I could tell.

I held a cup of water to his mouth, tilted his head back, and poured slowly. In the sack of food from Miss Mary I found biscuits, cooked beans wrapped in the big leaves from wild grape vines, some chunks of cooked meat, several apples, and corn bread. I ate an apple, which was good, though sharp-tasting from being picked green. I couldn't get Ezra to eat so much as a bite.

All the time, I was listening for the sound of approaching footsteps. Miss Mary had figured Trask would come after us, and I didn't doubt it was true. If he'd had dogs, we'd have been sunk. Being so close together in that small space, I could tell Ezra hadn't been given the opportunity for a bath in a long while, and I knew I didn't smell so good myself. I had to hope Trask didn't know much about tracking. Pa or just about any Shawnee could have followed our trail quicker'n a fox on a rabbit.

I didn't mean to, but I dropped into sleep. A light rain had begun falling, drumming a rhythm on the boards overhead that lulled me. I dreamed about the night Ezra had led me and Molly through the forest to get to Pa. He'd been so quick and quiet, like a wild creature that could see in the dark. I woke up suddenly, and almost despaired again, wondering what could have happened to change Ezra into this dull, clumsy stranger.

Then I heard voices coming our way, and realized that they must have been what woke me. The loud rustling of several people approaching through the underbrush made my heart jump into my throat. They were very close. Out of instinct or habit, I reckon, I put my finger to my lips in a signal for quiet, but Ezra wasn't watching.

“Even if he got the shackles off, they can't have got far.” It was Trask. “Not with that half-wit hardly able to stand hisself upright.”

Holding my breath, I moved my head slightly so I could see out through a space between two boards. Pea-Head Pete and Calvin Edson were walking on either side of Trask. They were moving along in a row, looking down at the ground for signs of our trail. Trask's face was red and irritable-looking. He was shading his eyes in a pained way, and I figured maybe he was feeling the effects of all the whiskey he'd drunk the night before. He saw the cart and began heading straight for our hiding place.

I drew my knife, imagining how he'd laugh when he tipped over the cart and knocked it from my hand with the tip of his rifle.

“Boss!” It was Calvin Edson's voice.

Trask was just three or four steps away—close enough, I was sure, to hear the pounding of my heart. “What is it?” he hollered, sounding in a right ill humor.

“Over here,” said Edson urgently. “Quick! I think I see footprints.”

Trask turned away and headed toward where Calvin stood peering at the ground.

Before I had time to feel relieved, Pea-Head called, “I'll check under that cart for you, boss.” Next I heard his footsteps approaching, and I held my breath again. I was glad it wasn't Trask coming, but I didn't know for sure if Pea-Head had good sense. Did he have a grasp on what was happening, or did he maybe think it was all a game, like hide-and-seek?

I was about to find out.

Pea-Head let out a groan as he crouched down to his knees to peer into our hiding place. Through the space between two boards our eyes met, and I felt myself stiffen as he let out a high-pitched giggle. I closed my eyes, waiting for him to call out to Trask that he'd found us.

“Nothin' here but a nest of mice, boss,” he yelled.

I opened my eyes, and I could have sworn I saw him wink at me before he stood up and walked away.

Trask called back, “Then go look sharp in the soft mud there by the creek bank, you hear?”

After a moment Pea-Head let out his giggle again and answered, “Looks like raccoons been in the creek, that's all.”

“Darn rain made their tracks hard to read, boss,” said Calvin. “But I'd say it looks like we should try going this-a-way.”

Still crouching like a cornered animal, I remained rigid, listening until there was nothing more to hear. Even then, I didn't dare move for a long time. Thinking about it, I decided Calvin had suspected Ezra and I might be under the cart, and had led Trask off someplace else. Silently I thanked him, hoping he'd taken Trask far away.

I'd been pretty sure Trask would get mean when he woke up and found Ezra gone, and I'd worried that Amelia's fear of Trask would cause her to tell him about the others' helping me. I'd also worried that one of the show folks who had been my allies in the dark of night might feel different come daylight, when faced with Trask's anger. So far it appeared they'd been steadfast, and for that I was thankful.

But now that Trask hadn't found us, his temper would most likely turn even uglier. I thought about moving to a new spot, but I didn't know if there was anything nearby that would serve as well as the cart to hide the two of us. I had to hope that if Trask continued to look for us, he wouldn't head back where he'd already searched once.

If only Ezra were stronger, and not shackled … I stopped myself. No sense in wishing for what might be. Better to keep my mind on what was, though it made a dreary picture.

At least one of my worries—that Ezra might give us away—seemed foolish now. He was so still and quiet I found myself looking to see if his chest was rising and falling with breath.

I didn't try to talk to him. I was too afraid of Trask sneaking back to risk making a sound. But, truth to tell, I was glad for a reason not to talk. Ezra had never been able to answer me in words, but his face and body had always been alive with his thoughts, and he'd had a way of acting out what he wanted to say. It was uncanny, Pa used to say.

But talking to someone who didn't give you any kind of answer was lonesome business. It scared me, the way Ezra behaved like I wasn't even there. It made me feel hopeless, and I couldn't let myself get discouraged. We weren't yet free and clear of Trask and we still had a long trip ahead.

I spent my time eyeing and feeling those shackles, thinking how I might get them off. There wasn't much to them, just like Miss Mary had said. A thin band of metal was bent into a circle around each of Ezra's ankles. The ends of the bands overlapped slightly.

From the greenish color they left on his skin, I figured they were copper, and that gave me a glimmer of hope. I knew copper was soft. Well, soft for metal, anyhow. That was the reason Trask had been able to clamp them on. Still, the force of bending them around Ezra's legs must have hurt him something terrible.

A heavy chain hung between the bands. Unlike the bands, it looked and felt to be made of iron. Before Trask bent the bands shut around Ezra's ankles, he must have first slipped the end links of the chain onto them.

The skin on Ezra's ankles was rubbed raw, and the greenish color from the copper only made it look worse. The sight fed my fury at Trask. I forced myself to think instead about how to get Ezra free.

The chain itself would be impossible to cut through without a blacksmith's tools, and I didn't dare march Ezra into a town like Vestry and ask for help in setting him free. There'd be too many questions, and word might get to Trask somehow.

I was going to have to work on the softer copper bands myself. The problem put me in mind of cutting through my half eagle coin. I wished for Orrin Beckwith's little hammer and chisel, though I didn't relish the idea of pounding on the bands with Ezra's ankles inside them.

I figured I'd try to pry the bands open with my knife, rather than attempting to cut through them. A Barlow is a fine tool, but I didn't know if it was strong enough for what I had in mind.

When the food from Little Miss Mary was gone, I'd need the knife to get more. I reached for some nearby sticks, and passed the time whittling snares for catching rabbits and small ground birds. That way I'd have them, even if my knife broke while I worked on the shackles.

I waited until after dark that night, and when Trask hadn't returned, I crawled out from under the cart into the pale moonlight. I pulled and poked and prodded until I got Ezra to come out, too. Then, to coax him to walk a little, I spoke in a hushed voice. “I'll get those shackles off soon as I can, Ezra. I know it's hard for you to walk with them on. But we need to start getting you strong for traveling.”

He didn't seem to take any notice of my words, so I hung on to his arm and we commenced taking small steps, the way we'd done before. We hadn't gone far when a harsh voice tore through the night.

“Stop right there, boy, and put your hands in the air.”

I froze like a scurrying nighttime creature that feels the whoosh of the owl's wings overhead just a moment too late.

15

THE VOICE I KNEW
to be Trask's came from the shadows again. “You heard me. Or have you gone deaf and dumb like the Injun?”

I let go of Ezra's arm and raised my hands. Peering toward the sound, I saw moonlight glinting off metal. Then I made out Trask, aiming the rifle my way.

“I'm taking the Injun back with me,” he said. His flat tone said there wasn't any point in arguing. “I'm tired of you, boy. And when I'm tired, my finger gets jumpy.”

My eyes flew to his finger against the trigger.

“There's nobody around here that knows who you are. Nobody that cares. Folks back where you came from ain't got any idea where you are right now. I could kill you, leave you in the woods to rot, and who would know the difference? Or you could turn over the Injun and forget we ever met.” He shrugged. “Your choice, boy.”

In my mind, I saw his finger tighten on the trigger. I heard the shot, and saw myself fall to the ground, dead. I saw Trask going off with Ezra, leaving my body to the scavenging animals that would surely come. In the quiet that seemed to go on forever, I saw Pa and Molly waiting and waiting for me to return, and finally, sadly, giving up hope. I saw Ezra, back in the show, no better off than he'd been before, and maybe worse.