The Healer (24 page)

Billy shouted, "Come, Wasser, come!" The plaintive whine answered him. Wasser clearly couldn't come.

Billy turned to the men in the truck. "My dog's in there and he's hurt. Help me get him out."

The men in the truck looked at each other. One of them said, "That was the fighting we heard, Sam. That wolf was chewing up the kid's dog."

So Wasser was badly hurt, maybe dying. "Where's the game warden?" Billy begged.

"We'll get him for you without going into those bushes." The man honked the horn of the truck, then stopped to listen. There was an answering hail.

Billy shouted, and Stoltzfoos' voice answered. "He's coming," yelled Billy and plunged into the cover. He heard the men in the truck shouting after him, but he kept on. Once he found Wasser, he could see how badly the dog was hurt.

The cover was so thick he could hardly make his way. Then he came on a system of well-trodden runways that looked much like the tunnels rabbits made in a brier patch, but much bigger. Billy could crawl along them on his hands and knees. He called again and again. Wasser whimpered, and Billy could tell by the rustling that the old hound was trying to stand up. He wriggled toward the sound.

There was another, louder sound in the tangle. It must be the warden. Billy called, "I'm here!" and even as he called, he suddenly realized that the warden could not get through the thicket unless he was crawling like Billy, and this creature was moving fast.

Wasser was baying: a long, terrified, hopeless cry of fear. Whatever the creature was, it was not coming toward Wasser. It was coming toward Billy. Behind him, the boy heard Jim Stoltzfoos struggling through the thorn bushes. He heard the man shout, "Lie down! Lie down!" Billy saw a black form threading its way with marvelous speed through the thicket. It was the giant coydog and the animal was charging. He could see the white teeth and the curled lips. He dropped flat on his face, and as he did so the animal was on him. There was a numbing shock as the coydog's teeth fastened in his shoulder and he felt himself being shaken as easily as he could shake a rabbit. He thought
this is how a sheep must feel when the dogs are killing it
. Then the jaws closed on his neck. He felt the teeth grate on the bone and heard something crack. He was vaguely conscious of the report of a rifle before he fainted.

He came to in a throbbing, aching whirl of pain. He was being dragged along the tunnel, one man pulling him by the arms and another pushing his feet. The pain was fearful and Billy screamed and screamed. "My neck's broken!" he sobbed. Burning nerves of agony were shooting from his neck into his head with every motion. His shoulder hurt almost as much as the man jerked on his hurt arm. "Let me alone, I can't stand it anymore, I can't stand it."

"We've got to get you out," panted a voice he recognized as Jim Stoltzfoos'. It was the warden who had his arms. He did not know who had his feet and did not care.

Billy kept fainting, coming to, and fainting again all through the long trip down the tunnel. He did not remember when they came out of the thicket. He remembered being lifted into the power company's truck. The jolting when the truck lurched up the grade in low gear was nearly as bad as the pain of being dragged through the tunnel. Then they hit a hard-surface road and it was a little better. He moaned, "Where are you taking me?"

"To a hospital." Jim Stoltzfoos was supporting the boy's head against his chest, holding his neck with one hand. "They'll give you an injection to take away the pain."

"Can't the man drive faster?" gasped Billy. The warden only said, "He's doing the best he can."

They stopped at the first farmhouse and Stoltzfoos telephoned for an ambulance. Billy was put on the sofa. The ambulance did not come and did not come. The warden telephoned again and told Billy, "It's on the way."

At long last they heard the moan of the siren, and then Billy was lifted onto a stretcher and carried to the ambulance. Another horribly painful drive, and they were at the hospital. Billy kept asking, "Where's the injection?" but it was a long time before the needle went into his arm. As the pain drifted away Billy wept, "Thank you, oh, thank you!" before he went to sleep.

When he woke his mother was there. Outside the room, he could hear his stepfather saying to someone, "The best of everything. I don't care what it costs. Private room, nurses around the clock, he's suffered enough."

"How long will I be here?" Billy asked.

"We don't know, dear. Just be thankful you're alive. I never should have left you with Uncle Zook. It was a terrible mistake."

For two days, Billy was in intensive care. Lying on the bed, alone and in pain, it was natural that he would be constantly drifting into his dream state. It had always been his escape from suffering and the problems of the world, and in his confusion over what had gone wrong with the coydogs, he was full of problems. Yet curiously, he never sank into his trance state and had no desire to do so. He was too busy thinking.

Finally Billy was moved to a room where he could receive visitors. Everyone came: Lapp, Yoder, and Abe Zook, who had a compound made of roots, bats' fur, and water from a dark well which, so the old braucher claimed, was far superior to the traction that the doctors had ordered. Billy was willing to try it. He hated the traction but the hospital staff thought differently.

When he was a little better, Jim Stoltzfoos came to see him. For the first time, Billy learned exactly what had happened.

"That dog had you by the shoulder, worrying you," the warden explained. "I didn't dare to shoot for fear of hitting you. Then he got you by the neck. I knew that was it. He was killing you, so I had to take the chance. I swear the bullet went through your hair. The dog dropped you and ran back up the tunnel. Then one of the powerline men crawled in and helped me pull you out."

"Is the coydog still alive?"

"No, I went back later. I don't mind telling you I wasn't too crazy about crawling through that tunnel again but I found the dog dead."

"What about Wasser?"

Stoltzfoos didn't answer, and Billy said quietly, "Wasser is dead, isn't he?"

"Yes, I'm afraid he is. He was too badly hurt to live. Abe Zook put him out of pain."

"Poor old Wasser," said Billy. "He was the only one of the pack who dared to close with that big coydog. Not even Buck or Rock would do it."

"That's right," said the warden. "He was a brave dog."

"Are you going to kill Wolf and Blackie now?"

"No, neither of them will be killed. Blackie is living with Abe Zook. She brought the smallest of the litter with her."

"Blackie with Uncle Zook?" Billy tried to lift himself, but the traction pulleys held him back. "How did she get there?"

"She came to the farm after we caught Wolf. No, we didn't hurt him. We caught him in a padded trap. I promise you he's all right."

"How could you ever catch Wolf? He was too smart to be trapped."

"Abe Zook showed me how. I'd never have thought of it. You know what he used for a bait? An alarm clock."

"An alarm clock?"

"That's right. One with a loud tick. We buried it and put the trap over it. Zook said all coyotes are curious—he still calls them werewolffen—and Wolf wouldn't rest until he found out what was making that ticking. Darned if he wasn't right. Wolf tried to dig up the clock and got caught."

"What are you going to do with him?"

"I told your father, or maybe I should say your stepfather, how you felt about Wolf. I had to tell him Wolf could never be tamed, and it's true, Billy. I suggested he be sent out West and turned loose where there are other coyotes. Your father put up the money for shipping expenses. Wolf is on his way there now."

Billy was silent for a time. "I guess it's better so."

"I'm sure of it. Then I tried to trap Blackie. With Wolf gone, she was lonely and couldn't feed herself and the pup. One evening Zook heard the guinea fowl yelling and went out. There was Blackie and the pup. She must have known all along you lived at the farm and came looking for you. You used to feed her, didn't you?"

"All the time."

"She's a domestic dog, gone wild. She can be tamed. So can the pup. They're both almost tame now."

"Can I see them when I'm better?"

"You certainly can. Zook would like to keep Blackie. Would you like the pup?"

"I'm going to call him Runt."

Jim Stoltzfoos laughed. "That's a good name. He'll need you to protect him. He's scared stiff of Dracula, and Grip teases him all the time."

Billy was silent for a while. "Will I be staying with Uncle Zook this winter?"

"Do you want to?"

"I'd like to during the summers. But I'm getting a little big for that school. It only goes to eighth grade."

"Would you like to go back to your parents?"

Billy was silent for much longer this time. Finally he said, "I guess so. I'm getting a little tired of digging roots and farm work. At least, I wouldn't want to do it all my life."

The warden said slowly, "You didn't get on too well with your stepfather, did you?"

"I sure didn't, but maybe he isn't as bad as I thought he was."

Stoltzfoos hesitated. "Billy, there are some people we just don't get along with. Abe Zook doesn't like me. I don't think he has any right to keep breaking the law, but I try to understand how he feels about things and we were able to work together to get Wolf because we both like you. Maybe you'll never like your stepfather, but there must be something about him or your mother wouldn't have married him."

"I guess so."

"He wants you to be like other people. Maybe you never will, and he can't understand that. But perhaps when you get older, you'll find that there are a lot of people in the world much worse than he is. He's got his way of thinking and you don't understand it and he doesn't understand you. You may never love him or even be good friends with him. That would be a pity, but all your life you'll have to work along with individuals you don't love and don't especially like. I think that years from now when you look back on your stepfather, he won't seem nearly as bad as he does now."

Billy was thinking of Wolf and the coydogs. Wolf was their father, but he could not understand them and the coydogs could not understand him. Both were right in their way. Probably the coydogs could never have hunted and lived like the coyote, and it was too bad that Wolf could not realize that. Still, there was plenty the young coydogs could not understand either, and their foolhardy and vicious behavior resulted in their death.

"Maybe this time I'll try to understand the old man better."

"Try it. You'll be going on to college and perhaps you'll go into ecology or nature study of one kind or another. If you do, you'll understand what crazy ideas your uncle has—a lot more crazy and some more harmful than any of your stepfather's. You'll also find out that, in his own way, the old boy knows things about nature that no scientist does, or ever could."

Billy lay thinking. "I guess I'm going to have to grow up."

"Everybody does, and the worst part about it is that we never stop growing. You know what the Pennsylvania Dutch say, 'Ve get too soon old und too late schmart!' "

"I was lucky to see some of the country before everything is cut up into highways and housing developments and factories."

"Maybe when you get older, you can save what's left."

Billy wiggled in his traction and lay looking up at the white ceiling. For the first time he had a feeling of contentedness and purpose.