Hoggee (16 page)

Cyrus sat back down in his chair, almost, it seemed to Howard, drawn into a ball. He had never noticed before how small a man Cyrus was, and he looked even older, old and frightened. “I don't believe in this hand-talking business.” He shook his head. “Sarie ain't right, and I won't have her troubled by a lot of nonsense.”

An idea came to Howard. “Let me show you,” he said. He put his hand into his pocket, took out the purse he carried with him always, and removed a precious half-dollar. Pushing back his plate, he cleared a space on the table. He put the coin on the cleared
spot, then laid a fork and the book in line with it. Next, he went to Sarah, who sat on the other side of the table. Pulling on her hand, he led her to the three items.

The room was silent. Howard passed his hand over the three items, then turning to Sarah, he used his thumb to rub across his fingertips. “It's the sign for money,” he said to the others, and again he held his hand up to make the sign for Sarah.

The girl nodded, picked up the coin, handed it to Howard, and smiled. Laura and Gracie clapped. Mistress Donaldson burst into sobs. Only Cyrus remained quiet, and he leaned his face into his hands. Howard led Sarah back to her seat. He stood by the table. For a time no one said anything. Then Mistress Donaldson spoke. “Set yourself down, Howard Gardner, you're going nowhere.” Then she turned to her father. “Howard will teach Sarah, Da,” she said. “Howard will teach Sarah, and God be praised that he is willing.”

Laura left her chair and went to her grandfather. “It will be all right, Grandpa,” she said, touching his shoulder. “Don't be afraid.”

Cyrus raised his head and turned to Howard. “She's like a cup, like a fine china cup, Sarie is. She'll break, too, terrible easy.”

Howard nodded. His body felt shaky. “I know, sir,” he said. “I promise I'll be careful.” He turned from the table then. “I need to see about my brother.”

After he had closed the door, he carved the message. Sarah was learning to speak, and he was learning to speak out. His body still shook, but inside he felt good.

All morning Howard stayed quietly beside his brother. He did not think about how he would manage
to stay in Birchport to teach Sarah. He thought only about Jack and would not leave him when the noon meal was ready. “We'll fix you a plate, then,” said Laura, who had come to call him, but it was Sarah who carried the food to him.

He nodded his thanks to her, took the plate, and sat down on his chair beside the bed. Sarah moved quietly to the other side of the bed, where she stood looking down at Jack. Howard realized then that she had not been in the room before. She pressed her hands to each side of her face, and tears rolled down her cheeks.

Howard wanted to go to comfort her, to remind her how her warning had saved several people from falling, but of course he couldn't. Someday he would be able to say such things to her. “Today is an important day for you, Sarah,” he said as she studied Jack's face. He took the brown book, touched her shoulder, and held it out to her.

Sarah took the book and opened it, studying the words and diagrams. Reaching out first to touch her hand, Howard made the sign for learn, taking knowledge from a book. He placed his open, down-turned fingers of his right hand on the book. Then he closed his fingers, raised them, and placed them on her forehead.

Sarah's blue eyes searched his face, questioning. Howard pointed to himself, then to Sarah, then to the book. He made the sign for learn again. Next he turned the book to the word
money,
showed her the diagram, and made the sign with his fingers and thumb. He pulled the half-dollar from his pocket.

A smile began to grow in Sarah's eyes and spread beautifully to her lips. She took the book and pressed it to her heart.

“We're starting, Sarah,” Howard said. “We've got a long way to go, but we're starting.”

After the meal Howard felt suddenly very tired. He spread his blanket again on the floor and drifted at once into sleep.

When he woke, Laura sat beside Jack. “He seems different,” she said. “Restless, like.”

Howard looked down at his brother. It was true. Jack no longer lay quietly. Lips moving and eyebrows jerking, he did not look peaceful at all. Howard washed his face. “What's wrong, Jack?” he said softly. “Are you dreaming, falling again from the bridge?” He brushed the thick, dark hair back from the bandaged forehead. “You're all right. Just open your eyes and you'll see. You're safe in bed. Old Cyrus put you right in his own bed. Isn't that something?”

All the rest of the day Howard sat beside Jack's bed. Laura and Gracie came and went, their voices quiet and their eyes down. When the evening meal was ready, Laura came to stand beside Howard. “You go now,” she said. “I'll stay with Jack.”

Howard shook his head. “I'm not hungry,” he said. “I'm still full from before,” but she brought him two hunks of hot buttered bread on a plate. “Thank you,” he said, and he forced himself to eat.

When the bread was gone, he put the plate on the chest and went to stand by the window. Outside, a spring twilight slipped across the yard and the hill. The soft light filled him with a sudden loneliness. If Jack died, Howard would feel so alone. He wiped at a tear that rolled down his cheek, then went back to Jack.

“Want to hear something that will make you wake up and tease me?” he said. “I was about to cry just now,
about to bawl like a baby because I was afraid you might die. That was silly, wasn't it?”

He reached for Jack's hand. His fingers closed around Jack's, and he jumped, startled! Jack had squeezed his hand. “Jack,” he said, his voice rising. “You heard me, didn't you? Do it again, Jack. Squeeze my fingers again so I'll know you can hear me.”

Laura came in just then. “What is it?” she asked, hurrying to the bed. “Did something happen?”

Howard nodded his head quickly. “He squeezed my hand. I was talking to him, and he squeezed my hand.”

“I'll get Ma,” said Laura.

Howard kept Jack's hand tight in his. Mistress Donaldson came rushing into the room with Laura. The woman went to the bedside and moved Howard away. Leaning over Jack, she lifted an eyelid and peered into this eye, let it drop, and lifted the other. Then she stood quietly, studying Jack's face.

When Howard could stand the silence no longer, he reached out to pull at her dress sleeve. “He squeezed my hand! Did Laura tell you? He squeezed my hand!”

The woman nodded. “Aye, she told me.” She did not look at Howard.

“Well, then,” he said, bending his body in an effort to see her face, “what do you think?” He straightened and looked at Laura. “It's a good sign, isn't it?”

Mistress Donaldson sighed, and she turned to Howard. “I hope so, lad,” she said softly. “By all that's sacred, I hope so!”

“But why wouldn't it be?” Something about the look in her eyes made Howard's voice shake. “Why wouldn't it be a good sign for him to squeeze my hand?”

The woman took her apron and wiped at her face.
“I'll not lie to you, lad,” she said. “It ain't my nature to be false.” She breathed heavily again, and Howard waited. “It could be a good sign, him squeezing your hand.” She pursed her lips. “Was it to happen again, I be inclined to think it more likely, but, lad, there's a thing some call the quickening, like when life comes into a babe.”

Howard shook his head. “I don't understand.”

“Well, they say that sometimes before a person dies, he might quicken, have a burst of life. I've seen it happen. My Jacob, the girls' father, he done it. Hadn't been able to talk or set up a bit, but just before he died, he set up, he did, and he asked for his pipe.”

Howard stepped around the woman. “That's not what's happening,” he said, and he bit hard at his lip. “That's not it at all. Jack is not going to die.” He dropped his head and closed his eyes tight. “I couldn't bear it if he did. I just plain could not bear it.”

He felt a hand touch his arm and opened his eyes to see Mistress Donaldson beside him. “You could bear it, lad. You'd have to. There ain't no choice about such. You'd go back to that towpath, and you'd walk behind them mules same as always. You'd be different inside, awful different, but you'd still walk the towpath.”

The evening took a long time becoming night, but finally Howard could not see the birch tree outside the window. Jack continued to toss about on the bed, and Howard waited. When the family went to bed, he spread his blanket on the floor, rolled himself in it, and after a long time, he slept.

Sometime in the night he woke. Someone had called his name! He was certain of it. He stayed still, listening. “Howard.” He threw back his blanket and sprang to his feet.

“Jack!” he shouted. “Jack!”

“Could you get me a drink of water?” Jack said.

Howard took the cup from the chest, helped Jack raise up, and held the cup to his lips. “That's good,” Jack said. Then he looked around. “Where are we?”

“This is old Cyrus's bed,” said Howard. “You've been unconscious. The bridge, do you remember?”

“Oh,” said Jack, “Oh, yeah. The bridge fell. Is Laura all right?”

“Yes, Laura's all right, but four people died.”

“You told me it was going to fall,” said Jack. “I should have listened to you.”

Howard closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. “You should have done just that. It's a thousand wonders you're still alive,” he said, and he smiled.

It was the first really lighthearted carving for Howard, and he smiled as he carved. It happened the night after Doctor Pruett's morning visit to examine Jack. “He appears to be making a full recovery,” the doctor said, and he closed his black bag. “I would suggest at least two more days of bed rest.”

Howard walked out with the doctor and paid him with the half-dollar from his own pocket. “You've come to this house enough unpaid,” he said.

The doctor climbed onto his carriage. “I suppose it's back to the canal for you two brothers as soon as possible,” he said.

“Jack will make a great rush of it, I'm sure, but as for me, I'm not going back. I mean to find work here in Birchport.” Howard slipped his hand into his pocket to touch the purse. He still had six dollars, enough to eat on for a time while he looked for work.

Thinking, he walked slowly back up the steps. Inside the house, no one knew that he did not intend to return to the canal. He had stated his intention to teach Sarah, but he had not come right out and said he was not going back to the boat. When he did, it was certain
that Cyrus would not let him sleep in the barn. Nor did it seem likely that the man would take him in. Cyrus was not that sold on Sarah's learning.

Then, of course, there was Jack, who would rant that Howard belonged back on
The Blue Bird.
Howard closed the gate slowly behind him. Two days—the doctor had said Jack should rest at least two more days. He would say nothing until he had to.

Gracie sat on the porch, her feet crossed under her. In the lap of her dress was a small bag with walnut meat spilling out of it. “Eating nuts, are you?” Howard asked her.

Gracie shook her head. “These are old. Ma overlooked them too long in the pantry, and they don't taste good now, but I been coming here every day.” She pointed to the birch tree. “There's a squirrel up there. I've named him George Washington after the man in your book.”

“The first president, the father of our country,” Howard said. “Your squirrel should be proud of so noble a name.”

“Yes, him. Well, when you go inside, I'll put a piece of walnut on the porch for George Washington to get. I do it every day. Then I stay all quiet, and he comes to get it. First I started with the ground below the tree, but now he'll come right up the steps. Pretty soon I'll get him to come inside.”

Howard laughed. “A squirrel's a wild animal, Gracie. He won't come into a house with people in there. Besides, if he did, your ma would have him in a stew in a wink.”

“Cook the father of our country,” said Gracie, “that would be terrible ornery. Mayhap I'll ask George Washington to come in at night.”

Howard shook his head. “Don't try to touch the thing. He'll bite and scratch something furious.” He went on into the house.

Jack, propped on pillows, frowned at Howard when he came in. “Two more days in this bed.
The Blue Bird
will be almost to Buffalo by that time. How are we going to catch up to her? Maybe we could catch a hurry-up boat. They go fast.”

Howard shook his head. The hurry-up boats were the only ones on the canal allowed to go as fast as possible. The boats rushed to repair damage in the earthen bank because such a break threatened canal travel. “Hurry-up boats won't take passengers. You know that. If they did, they'd never get their work done. The men on those hurry-up boats aren't going to change the rules just for us.”

“It could be almost two weeks before
The Blue Bird
is back in Birchport. What are we going to do all that time?”

“I don't know about you, but I'm going to teach Sarah sign language and maybe do some reading lessons with Laura.” Howard went to the chair to pick up the brown book. “In fact,” he said, “I'm going to see about starting with Sarah right now. You should try to go back to sleep.”

“I've been sleeping two days,” said Jack. “You'd best spend all your time on Sarah. You don't have time to teach Laura, too. You only have a week or two.”

Howard sighed. The blow to his head had not changed Jack. Everything was still a contest with him. Jack, who thought Howard belonged on the canal with him, would also not like Howard's being around Laura so much. Say right now that you're not going
back, Howard told himself, but he went quietly from the room.