The Nine Pound Hammer (21 page)

“Why not?” Ray asked.

“Just don’t.”

They were quiet for some time after that. When they
stopped for the night, Si and Ray went off to gather firewood.

“What’s going on with Conker?” Ray asked her. “Why’s he want to keep what happened from Nel?”

She picked up a broken branch and stuck it beneath her arm.

“You have to understand, Ray, Nel took us in, all of us in the medicine show. Conker never knew John Henry. His mother, Polly Ann, died not long after John Henry did. Conker was just a baby then. Nel is the closest thing he’s ever had to a father. Conker would never want to do anything to upset Nel. And Nel would never want us to run off and try to stop the Gog, not that we’d stand a chance at stopping him anyway. But now Conker’s been given his father’s hammer!”

Ray said, “The Nine Pound Hammer. Looks like about ninety pounds!”

Si agreed with a nod. “Conker must see a new path before him, and it’s not Nel’s path or that of the medicine show. It’s the path of taking up his father’s hammer and destroying the Gog. Carrying on his father’s work.”

Ray picked up some more branches as he thought about what Si had said. “Were your parents Ramblers, Si?”

Si continued collecting sticks. After a few moments Ray thought she was ignoring him, but then she said, “I’m not sure.”

Si cast a glance at Ray, adjusted the sticks, and continued, “My parents came with their families across the
Pacific to California, my father and his brothers all wanting to get rich working on the railroad. I was the youngest of four sisters. Having all girls was bad enough, but being the fourth was … an unlucky omen, as my uncles and aunts saw it. My name means
four
, a number that’s associated with death in China. But the worst of all was how I was born with a black hand.”

Si’s gaze lingered a moment on her hand, holding the bundle of firewood. “My parents left. Maybe to help John Henry fight the Gog. My uncle, who was taking care of me, thought I was cursed, some sort of demon. When my parents never returned and relatives of ours started dying mysteriously, my uncle took me on a trip into town. At least that’s what he said we were doing. He tied me up and left me in the woods.”

Ray saw the pain in her expression and knew that bringing up the memory was not easy. Si heaved her chest in a sigh, but then scowled as her ferocity returned.

“I got loose. At the time it seemed so simple. I didn’t realize that those knots would have been impossible for any other little girl to untie. It was also simple for me to find my way back home. It was my hand. The markings came up on it for the first time. They showed me the way.

“When I returned, my uncle was horrified. But my aunt must have felt some sympathy for me. She knew Mister Everett. He worked on the same railroad as my family at the time. Mister Everett told her about a man he knew who could take me in—a man who understood about such
things as the strange markings on my hand. Without so much as a hug or a goodbye, she gave me to Mister Everett. And he took me to Nel.” She shrugged and bent once more to collect another branch.

Ray felt sad for Si. That her own family could be so heartless and superstitious filled Ray with disgust.

They started walking back toward the campsite. After a few moments Ray said, “I found out something before I left, Si. Do you know who Li’l Bill is?”

“Sure,” Si said. “He and John Henry were thick.”

“He was my father.”

Si’s eyes widened. “You’re … Li’l Bill’s son?”

Ray nodded. “And, like you said about Conker, there’s a new path for me; it’s just that I can’t see where it leads.”

Si hoisted the load of branches in her arms. “I don’t know much about Ramblers, Ray, but it seems to me you’re on the way to being a good one.”

“How about you?” Ray asked.

Si cocked an eyebrow. “How about me what?”

“Do you want to be a Rambler?”

They were nearly to the campsite now. “Wherever Conker goes,” Si said, almost in an undertone, “I’ll go.”

When the pair returned, Conker was bent over the smoking kindling. Ray’s eyes pulled to the Nine Pound Hammer lying on the ground, wrapped in the cerecloth. Here was the weapon that had destroyed the Gog’s Machine.

As Ray stood watching Conker blowing a blaze up
from the circle of stones, he wondered if his friend might be the hero who would finally defeat the Gog. And Ray felt, like Si, that if he did, that he would be there at Conker’s side.

That night as the fire burned down to embers, Ray sat up. He gave up on falling asleep. Too many thoughts swirled about his head. Ray turned and was surprised to see Conker awake and sitting with his back against a log, gazing into the dying fire.

“Can’t sleep?” Ray whispered.

Conker gave a thin smile and shook his head. Ray got up and sat at Conker’s side.

“I’m sorry, Conker.”

“Why’s that?” Conker’s eyes widened curiously.

“For using the lodestone to see your dream.”

“Oh, that weren’t nothing.”

“But I’m also glad I did,” Ray said. “If I hadn’t, I never would have figured out who my father was.”

“So where’d you go anyway, Ray? You didn’t need to run off. I didn’t mean to get so mad, but you know I wouldn’t have held it against you.”

“No, it wasn’t that,” Ray said, prodding a stick to stir up the fire. “I was mad at Jolie.”

“Jolie? How come?”

“Because, all that time she was the reason my father wasn’t around.”

“That ain’t true,” Conker said. “It weren’t Jolie’s fault.
You want to blame someone, blame the Gog, or blame the goodness in your pa’s heart, ’cause he was only doing what none other could.”

Ray told Conker about finding his father as a rabbit and showed him the golden foot. Conker listened intently to all Ray had learned from Mother Salagi.

When he finished, he and Conker sat for a time before Ray asked, “What are you going to do, Conker? Now that you have the Nine Pound Hammer?”

Conker sighed. “Why you think I can’t sleep? I don’t know. When I pulled the
Snapdragon
off that shoal, I’ve never had no strength like that. It’s the hammer, Ray. That’s what I was feeling as soon as we got on that pirate steamer. I think just being near to it started to change me. But I’m afraid, afraid of the Gog, and worse, I’m afraid of my father’s hammer.”

“But the hammer can help you,” Ray said.

“That hammer led to my father dying,” he said solemnly. In the fire’s glow, Conker’s eyes appeared illuminated, dancing with phantom flames. “And I’m scared it’ll be my death, too. But if my father weren’t scared, maybe I need to quit hiding under Nel’s skirt.”

Ray sat quietly a moment and then said, “I’ll help you, whatever you decide to do.”

“I don’t know what that’ll be,” Conker said.

“What would Li’l Bill and John Henry do? I think we need to protect Jolie. If the Gog is after her, the best thing we can do is keep her as far away from him as possible.”

“Just because you two can’t sleep,” Si grumbled from across the low coals of the fire, “doesn’t mean you have to keep me up with your yapping.” Ray and Conker turned to see her sitting up. She gave one of her rare smiles and then rolled over.

Ray and Conker sat in silence for a long while, watching the sparks pop from the fire and drift into the dark.

The following day Si led them to the
Ballyhoo
in the dusty hill country of eastern Mississippi. The show was nearly set up and there were hours until it was to start. Seth was practicing with his swords as they walked into camp.

“You again,” was all Seth said in a flat voice to Ray before returning to his routine.

“Like to see what would happen if he’d been on the
Snapdragon,
” Si said out of the corner of her mouth. “Try using those swords for real for once.”

Eddie, as soot-covered as ever, stepped from the locomotive and broke into a big grin. “Ma, they’re back. And Ray’s back, too!” he called. Ma Everett poked her head from the kitchen car and ran out to greet them, giving each a big kiss on the cheek.

Marisol’s face peered curiously from the window at the sleeper car. Several windows down from her, Redfeather called out a hello. Buck sat in the shade of the locomotive, his head cocked. As Ma Everett hustled the three to the mess car for a meal, Peg Leg Nel strolled out in his bandy-legged fashion. His smile went to surprise and faded to a
curious scowl as he saw the black roll of cerecloth in Conker’s arms. He turned without a word of greeting and went back into his car.

Conker gave Ray an anxious look. “It’ll be okay,” Ray said. “I’ll be there in a second. Save me a bite.”

Ray turned to jog up to the locomotive.

“I met someone you used to know,” Ray said before handing the envelope to Buck.

The cowboy ran his fingers over the wax before breaking the seal. He lifted the envelope to his nose and inhaled its scent. A vague smile twitched on his thin lips.

“How is Lorene?” Buck asked.

Ray assumed this must be the Pirate Queen’s name. He wanted to laugh. The sudden realization that she had once been a girl with a normal name before becoming a feared outlaw caught Ray off guard.

“Good, I suppose,” Ray replied.

Buck shook his head and chuckled. “You never cease to surprise me, Ray.”

“I do my best. I have something else, too, but I can’t show you here.”

“Come with me.” Buck led Ray to the cowboy’s sparse room, where Ray took out the siren-song music box from the small painted case.

Buck ran his fingers over it. “What is it?”

“A music box. It’s got a wax cylinder,” Ray said as he assembled it and turned the crank. Buck tilted his head as the sweet, eerie singing began.

“You got this from Lorene?”

“Yes. The Gog attacked her ship trying to get it. He could use the music box to control Jolie … if he captures her.”

Buck stopped the turning cylinder. “He won’t. We’ll put it somewhere safe.”

The cowboy took the box and slid it under his bed.

“Buck, I have something else to tell you. … ”

Buck sat at the table, his hands folded in front of him as he listened to Ray. Ray told him everything—about the lodestone and about seeing Li’l Bill in Conker’s dream, about the rabbit’s foot and the Nine Pound Hammer. As Ray spoke, Buck’s craggy face remained placid and expressionless. When he finished, Buck muttered, “He ain’t going to like this.”

Ray was about to ask what he meant, when the cowboy stood. “Come on. Let’s get Conker. It’s time we talked to Nel. It’s time you knew.”

P
UZZLED
, R
AY FOLLOWED
B
UCK TO THE MESS CAR
. Conker was halfway through a plate of grits, fried wild tubers, and jelly-slathered biscuits. “Come with us,” Buck said.

Conker looked up anxiously, his spoon perched before his open mouth. “What’s going on?” he asked, looking to Ray.

Ray said, “We’re going to talk to Nel.”

“Now?” The giant’s eyes widened. Picking up the Nine Pound Hammer as he stood, Conker said, “Just one moment, Buck. Need to go to my room first …”

“Bring it with you,” Buck growled.

Conker gulped and joined Ray behind Buck. As they entered Nel’s car, the pitchman was chewing anxiously on
the end of his briarwood pipe and gazing out the window. When he saw the boys enter behind Buck, his eyes fell immediately to the bundle of cerecloth in Conker’s hands.

“Sit down,” Buck said to Ray and Conker.

As the four sat around the table, Buck began, “Nel, we’ve got some talking and it ain’t going to be quick. First, you need to know what these boys have been up to. And then, I think it’s time we told them a few things.”

Nel shifted in his seat, his elbows cocked awkwardly as he squeezed the arms of the chair. Nel looked first at Conker. “Where did you get it?”

“What?” Conker asked.

The deep folds and wrinkles around Nel’s eyes relaxed until Nel looked both patient and sad.

Conker took a deep breath. “From the Pirate Queen.”

Nel looked at Buck, and Buck said, “I gave the Nine Pound Hammer to her to keep years back. You wanted it off the train, remember? You worried that it put the children at risk. Her steamer was the safest place I knew.”

Buck then cocked his head toward Ray. “Go ahead, Ray. Tell Nel who you are.”

Nel frowned, “What do you mean?”

Ray picked at the edge of the table nervously. “I’m not Ray Fleming, sir.”

“You’re not?”

“No, my real name is Ray Cobb.”

Nel’s eyes were bright and wild as Ray began telling
him about the lodestone and how he had found his father and gotten the rabbit’s foot. “… the lodestone disappeared, too. Well, not exactly. I still have it but it’s buried inside my father’s hand.”

“His hand?” Nel gasped. “Severed by the Hoarhound! Ray, is it made of silver? Can I see it?”

“It’s not silver,” Ray said as he took out the toby and removed the rabbit’s foot. “It’s gold.” He handed it to Nel.

Nel looked down at the rabbit’s foot for a long time, before saying, “This is troubling to an old man, boys. There are many things I hoped to protect all of you from. But those wicked hounds won’t get off my trail.” He gave a dry snort. “Metaphorically and literally, I suppose.” Still gazing down at the golden foot, turning it over and over in his hands, Nel added, “It would seem the Hoarhound’s jaws have taken another.”