Marysvale (34 page)

He gave a quiet but jovial laugh.
“Well, yer not out of the woods yet, young John. They’ll know ya
disappeared inta one of these doors, and they’ll be a goin’ house
to house looking for ya anytime now. We best getcha out, before
they get here.”

“
How… how’d you know my
name?” I asked, astonished.

“
Got some friends workin’
the gate, which means a lot of people know yer name now; and after
tonight you’ll be a big hero fer some.”

“
You’re not going to tell
are you?” I asked, suddenly worried.

“
Relax,” he said. “They
ain’t findin’ out from me; but everyone will suspect. Quite a
coincidence—the nightcha show up, a big commotion with gunfire and
everythin’ happens. Not sure whatcha done, but I’m sure it was
spectacular.”

“
I’m confused. Why would
that make me a hero?”

“
Plenty a folks don’t like
it much here. Anythin’ bad that happens to
them
is good
news to us.”

“
So why doesn’t anyone do
anything?”

“
They’re all too powerful
and we ain’t got no organization or leader. Now, I’d love a chat,
but we best get ya off.”

He hobbled over to a shelf and withdrew
a small hammer of sorts from behind a few books. Returning, he
stooped down and pried some floorboards up from their nails.
Beneath lay more old rotting planks. Those, he simply lifted and
revealed a deep hole dug in the dirt.

“
Down inta the tunnel with
ya. Follow it ‘til it ends, and you’ll come up in an old, burnt-out
house. From there, ya ain’t far from yer destination.” He then gave
me the directions and added, “Ya best not be found with that
musket, or they’ll know for sure it was you. Leave it down there;
we’ll take care of it.”

“
We?” I queried.

“
A small resistance,” he
said with a dismissive wave. “Not much, quite pathetic really, but
it’s all we got. Most folks are just plain too scared to join
us—consequences and such.”

A banging could be heard from the house
next door.

“
Now off ya go,” he ordered.
“And do be quiet, woncha? I ain’t got many days left, but I’d
rather not spend ‘em rottin’ in a cell.”

I slithered down the hole and called up
softly, “What’s your name?”

“
Simon.”

“
Thank you,
Simon.”

“
Yes, yes. Think nuttin of
it, my boy. Now do be quiet.”

I remained unmoving and silent in the
small tunnel, which was barely large enough to crawl through. A few
rickety boards were the only support keeping the whole thing from
caving in on me. The only light came from above, and that
disappeared rapidly as the old man replaced the planks and the
floor. No sooner did he finish, than a soldier pounded on the door,
which rained dust and dirt down onto my head.

The soldier demanded, “Open up, you
filthy scum! And be quick about it, or we’ll break the door
down.”

“
Comin’, comin’,” replied
the old man.

The sound of the door unlatching
drifted down and soldiers rushed in. They ran through the house.
Vibrations from their boots continued my little rainstorm of filth.
Occasionally, there was the sound of something being knocked over.
After a few minutes, I heard a soldier declare, “He’s not here,”
followed by the sound of boots scurrying out. A moment later, the
same orders to open another door, almost word for word, could be
faintly heard.

Not wasting any more time, I half
crawled, half slithered my way through the dark, miserable tunnel.
My hands pawed over the dirt. From time to time, I would touch an
object which I was glad I couldn’t see—a few of them squeaked and
scampered away. Progress was determined by the different boards and
beams that collided with my head, which in turn caused more dirt to
fall down on top of me. Each time, I gritted my teeth and kept
going, doing my best to keep from cursing—albeit it was unavoidable
at times.

The tunnel was longer than expected,
and I found it quite tiring to travel in that dog-snakelike
combination. Nevertheless, I made good progress and found the end,
or more specifically my head discovered the end when it plowed into
a hard-packed dirt wall.

Reaching up, I felt for the opening.
Using my fingers, I checked for any protrusions that may cut or
give me any more head knocks on my way out. Finding nothing, I gave
the obstruction a push. The heavy lid only budged slightly before
falling back down. With a deep breath, I gathered my strength and
sprang up, giving it a hard shove. This time it moved, but not as
expected. The door, or whatever it was, swung more sideways than
up, but it was enough to escape. I crawled out and into a grimy
mess. Briefly studying my surroundings, I discovered that only two
walls remained of the decrepit building I found myself in. There
was no roof. Debris and ashes were scattered everywhere. The object
blocking the entrance to the hole turned out to be a wooden board
covered with a filthy, molding rug, or perhaps a dead animal…I
didn’t care to find out. With a few good, squishy shoves from my
boot, it fell back in place.

I briefly shook off as much dirt from
my hair and clothes as possible. The blackness of the night was
fading. On the horizon, a line of light began to penetrate the
darkness. The sun, again, waged its epic and eternal battle against
the dark night—both relentless in their pursuit of the
other.

Following the directions given to me by
the old man, it wasn’t difficult to find my way back. Before long,
I crept into the house. Jane waited in the dim
candlelight.

“
Where have you been?” she
demanded. “You’ve been gone for hours! Don’t you know it’s
dangerous to be out after dark?

“
Yes, I’m somewhat
acquainted with the dangers now,” I mumbled. “I’ve been trying to
find a way out of this town.”

“
And did you?”

I shook my head; more dirt particles
floated down.

“
Good heavens, have you been
rolling around on the ground? You’re filthy.”

I opened my mouth to reply, and she cut
me off.

“
Never mind, you can tell me
about it later. With all the commotion you’ve caused, they’re sure
to check to see if their new citizen is at home.’

“
You could hear
that?”

“
I believe it’s reasonable
to assume we would notice when the whole hilltop blows up in musket
fire,” she said with just a hint of sarcasm.

“
Where are the
others?”

“
Hannah can sleep through
most anything. I doubt she could be roused, even if the gunfire
happened right here in this house. And I just sent father to bed.
Now we’d better get you cleaned up in case they come, or they’ll
know for sure it was you. So off with your shirt,” she ordered, and
left.

While she disappeared into the other
room, I did as I was told. She returned with a pair of breeches, a
shirt, and a wet cloth. Without a word, she ran her fingers through
my hair and shook out what dirt she could. With the water, she
cleaned my face, neck, ears, and hands. To be truthful, I enjoyed
it, and silently wished it could go on a moment or two
longer.

Jane’s face remained
unreadable.

Taking the clean clothes, she tossed
them at me and said, “Put these on and be quick.” Then she turned
and again strode into the other room.

I stripped down to my undergarments and
pulled the clean shirt on; at which point, Jane
returned.

I let out a small cry and covered
myself with the clean pair of breeches.

She rolled her eyes. “For being so
swift, you sure are slow sometimes.”

“
When else have I been
slow?” I demanded.

She again rolled her eyes and walked
back into the other room without replying; leaving me to get my
pants on and figure out what else she meant.

I finished dressing as quickly as I
could and called, “Ready.”

She returned, took the dirty clothes
and, with the wet rag, she smothered the candle. Then she wrapped
my soiled garments around it.

“
Best if they don’t smell a
freshly extinguished candle,” she explained unnecessarily. “Lie
down; and for heaven’s sake, pretend you were asleep. Better yet,
if they don’t come, try to get some real sleep; you look like you
are in need of it.”

Without another word, she swept out of
the room, and I obeyed her command. Sleep came easily. The moment
my head touched the blanket that made up my bed, I was already
out.

Unfortunately, it didn’t last
long.

It felt like I’d just barely closed my
eyes when a mighty pounding at the door, and a shout from an angry
soldier, jarred me from my sleep.

I groaned, rolled over, and heaved
myself to my feet. It was a difficult task, and more difficult yet
to pry my eyes open.

“
Open up! Or we’ll break the
door down,” demanded the soldier.

“
We’re coming,” cried Mr.
Wolfe, as he scurried down the stairs and into the room. Jane and
Hannah were at his heels. Unlike me, I noticed that the others were
fully dressed.
How odd,
I thought.
When did they have
time to get dressed?

The pounding continued more vigorously.
Hannah rushed over and unlatched the door. Light streamed in and I
was surprised to discover that at least a few hours had passed;
though, to my tired body, it had only felt like minutes. The
sunlight blinded me as I tried to blink away the sleep from my
eyes.

Two soldiers rushed in, ready to give
combat to anyone daring to make the slightest move. No one did. The
sight of the next man sickened me. Lyman strode in with a bit of a
swagger, all dressed up in his soldier uniform. I wondered if he
slept in it.

“
Ah, Mr. Casey, have a late
night did we?” he asked in that greasy voice of his. Walking around
the room, he wiped his finger across the table inspecting it for
dirt. He then eyed everything as if it were painful to see such
poverty; until at last, his lustful eyes fell on Jane. “Miss Jane,
always a pleasure.” They lingered on her far too long and a tad too
low.

She looked at him blandly and said
nothing.

Finally, he pried his eyes from Jane
and turned them to me. Instantly, they changed from lust to hatred.
The feeling was mutual.

“
Well?” he asked.

Maybe it was because of exhaustion, but
I felt confused. “Well, what?”

“
My goodness, you are a slow
one, aren’t you?” he said with a contemptuous look. “I asked you a
question. Now let me state it in a way even you can comprehend.”
Then, accentuating every word, he said slowly and loudly, “What
were your actions during the night?”

Mimicking his tone and voice, I
replied, “I was sleeping.”

It wasn’t the smartest thing that’s
escaped my lips and his face turned red. Contorting with rage, he
rushed over and slammed me against the wall, jamming his forearm
onto my neck and under my chin. He spat through a clenched jaw,
“You are a bloody fool to mock me. Do you think I’m
daft?”

I really wished he hadn’t asked me
that. He had a way of making me drop my senses and say whatever
came to mind. Hannah sensed the same thing, and with her eyes, she
relayed the message, “Now would be the time to KEEP YOUR MOUTH
SHUT!” I took her silent advice and resisted the temptation to
reply frankly.

Lyman continued, “I know you were at
the garrison last night. I expected you would try something that
stupid.”

He leaned hard on my throat, choking
off my air supply. Then, putting his mouth to my ear, so that only
I could hear, he hissed, “I do not know why my father insists on
bringing you to dinner, you pathetic little boy. If it were up to
me, I would kill you now; a pleasure I may still enjoy after
tonight. So, if I were you, I would hold my tongue and show some
respect. Who knows? I may even decide to be merciful and permit a
quick and painless death.”

Through his eyes, I could see he truly
hated me, which was no surprise, but this was intense—so fierce
that I could feel he desperately wanted to kill me. And there was
something else that accompanied the loathing…it was tremendous
fear. Why he felt so afraid and angry would be a mystery that I
wasn’t going to find the answer to just yet.

To emphasize his point, Lyman released
my neck, grabbed my hair, pulled me a few inches away from the
wall, and then violently slammed my head back against the hard
surface. Stars obscured my vision and pain shot through my skull.
The process was repeated once more, and I nearly blacked
out.

He released me and snapped his fingers.
A short, wiry man scuttled into the room carrying new clothes and
boots. Pretending to resume composure, Lyman said, “A gift from my
father. I will return later this afternoon to escort you to
dinner.” Then, wrinkling his nose, he added, “And do clean up; you
smell like a pig.”

With that, he turned and walked briskly
out into the light. The little man left the clothes and bustled
away, followed by the soldiers.