Speaker 1: Twelve. It had no value to him other than it
Speaker 1: gave him something to do all day long. The summer
Speaker 1: had been an unmercifully and overbearingly hot one. The coal shaft,
Speaker 1: even several feet under the ground, provided none of its
Speaker 1: typical cooling, and the trees that surrounded the hole where
Speaker 1: he lived gave their usual shade, but they also seemed
Speaker 1: to enclose him in a cell where no breezes were permitted. Everywhere,
Speaker 1: whether above or below ground, seemed to be trying to
Speaker 1: deprive him of breath that he didn't have to struggle for.
Speaker 1: Moving about to try and find even a temporary acceptable
Speaker 1: existence was a constant and exhausting chore. But lying perfectly
Speaker 1: still while he tried to wait the worst out only
Speaker 1: afforded him the opportunity to lie in a wash of
Speaker 1: his own sweat and smell the ever growing stink coming
Speaker 1: from his damp body. It was at the pool where
Speaker 1: he had come up with the idea. The pool had
Speaker 1: supplied him with water every day for more than fifteen years.
Speaker 1: The pool was also a draw to the animals that
Speaker 1: he snared each day for his daily meal. He would
Speaker 1: not have survived a week, much less more than fifteen
Speaker 1: years without it, and aside from the coal shaft, it
Speaker 1: was about the only thing he could think of to
Speaker 1: be thankful for. But it was small, not so much
Speaker 1: larger than a pot that his mother always used for
Speaker 1: making soap, in large enough to give him ample water,
Speaker 1: but small enough that it wasn't so much of a
Speaker 1: job for him to break all the ice away with
Speaker 1: the rifle barrel when it froze over. A few times
Speaker 1: each winter, in just bare feet and trousers, he went
Speaker 1: again to the pool with the sole purpose of lying
Speaker 1: on his stomach in the leaves and splashing water on
Speaker 1: his face every time he grew warm. He expected to
Speaker 1: be there all day and possibly well into the evening.
Speaker 1: It was much too warm to think about eating something
Speaker 1: directly off the fire. He did not recognize the man
Speaker 1: staring back at him. He knew who he was, because
Speaker 1: he just knew, but he did not recognize him. With
Speaker 1: sweat inching down the sides of his face, Reuben continued
Speaker 1: to gaze at the surface of the water. So far
Speaker 1: as he knew, it was the first time that he
Speaker 1: had looked upon his own image since before leaving the
Speaker 1: battlefield in Maryland. It was a shocking and disturbing ghost
Speaker 1: of a man that stared back at him. His first
Speaker 1: thought had been accusingly of this place and what it
Speaker 1: had done to him, the man looking back from the
Speaker 1: surface of the pool, with his long and matted gray
Speaker 1: hair and beard, the sunken cheeks and the vacant eyes,
Speaker 1: the deep lines and crevices marking a once smooth and
Speaker 1: fair face. This place had he done this to him.
Speaker 1: It had isolated him and ravaged him little by little
Speaker 1: over the past decade and a half. But then he
Speaker 1: thrust his hand into the water so that he could
Speaker 1: splash some one into his face in order to cool
Speaker 1: it and to make the other man disappear. He didn't
Speaker 1: ever want to see him again. But the heat displaced
Speaker 1: for just a moment, and droplets of water falling from
Speaker 1: his beard. He thought about this place and knew that
Speaker 1: he had been wrong earlier. This place had not done
Speaker 1: these terrible things to him. This place had sheltered him
Speaker 1: and provided for him. It had taken him in even
Speaker 1: knowing that he was an embarrassment and a disappointment. He
Speaker 1: was a coward, a coward that had betrayed the trust
Speaker 1: of the men that he had sworn to stand beside,
Speaker 1: and that had stood beside him. He was a man
Speaker 1: that had turned his back on all that he had
Speaker 1: been taught growing up about honor and faithfulness, and still
Speaker 1: this place had won welcomed him. When he had sat
Speaker 1: weeping on so many nights over the loneliness his heart
Speaker 1: felt for the one who had said that she would
Speaker 1: love him forever. This place had offered him warmth and
Speaker 1: a dry place to lay as the tears dried and
Speaker 1: sleep finally came. Blaming what he had seen on anything
Speaker 1: other than himself was just as cowardly as running from
Speaker 1: the battlefield had been. It was he who had brought
Speaker 1: all of this about to himself, and the blame could
Speaker 1: be laid nowhere else but at his own feet. If
Speaker 1: he had stayed, like all those thousands who had been
Speaker 1: just as scared as he had been, had stayed, then
Speaker 1: perhaps he would have died as he had been afraid
Speaker 1: of doing. But at least he would have rested in
Speaker 1: peace and rested honorably instead of enduring a living death
Speaker 1: each day. And now the days would be worse now
Speaker 1: that he knew what he looked like, not pleasing to
Speaker 1: behold neither inside nor outside anymore. It was the heat
Speaker 1: that pulled him from his dark thoughts. He had changed.
Speaker 1: The image on the surface of the pool had proven that,
Speaker 1: but the heat had not, and it was still stifling.
Speaker 1: He lay still, aside from the splashing of water onto
Speaker 1: his face every couple of minutes, and he forced his
Speaker 1: mind to become empty. It seemed there were no good
Speaker 1: thoughts left to be had in this world. Then it
Speaker 1: occurred to him to how relaxing it would be if
Speaker 1: he could just sit down in the pool, like he
Speaker 1: had in the place that was walled out large enough
Speaker 1: for him to swim a little in back home when
Speaker 1: he had been a child. He opened his eyes and
Speaker 1: allowed all the gold and purple specks brought on by
Speaker 1: the bright white sun to disappear. The pool as it
Speaker 1: sat was much too small to get in, and even
Speaker 1: if he could, it would not be a relaxing way
Speaker 1: of reclining. But if the pool were enlarged a bit,
Speaker 1: that would be altogether different. He reached his hand over
Speaker 1: the edge and grasp a handful of sodden dirt and
Speaker 1: moss that seemed to be forming the rim, and was
Speaker 1: surprised at how easily it pulled away with just a
Speaker 1: tug from his hand. He was sure that farther away
Speaker 1: from the water, the ground would be less inclined to
Speaker 1: let go, But he wasn't intent on fashioning a lake,
Speaker 1: so he gave no worry to what might be. Handful
Speaker 1: After handful, he pulled and threw across the pool into
Speaker 1: the surrounding trees, and then abruptly stopped. The water had
Speaker 1: become murky and cloudy as a result of his ministrations.
Speaker 1: He heaved himself up from the ground and went back
Speaker 1: to the coal shaft. He should have thought earlier to
Speaker 1: fill his canteen with clean water before doing as he had.
Speaker 1: There was a trickle from the spring a few yards
Speaker 1: up from the pool, but it was harder to fill
Speaker 1: the canteen from there. He would allow the water to
Speaker 1: settle and clear, and then he would plenish his water
Speaker 1: supply and began again. The following afternoon. He had enlarged
Speaker 1: the pool in width and length enough to sit in
Speaker 1: it comfortably, but it was still too shallow. Well, that
Speaker 1: was the bad news. The good news was that digging
Speaker 1: out the death could be done while sitting in the
Speaker 1: cool water. Sitting in the water came almost to the
Speaker 1: tops of his thighs. Lying on his back, it barely
Speaker 1: reached his hips. But it was cooler in the water
Speaker 1: no matter how he was positioned, and he made no
Speaker 1: great efforts to grab handfuls of leaves or muck from
Speaker 1: the bottom. He would extract a handful and toss it
Speaker 1: over the side, and then use his fingertips to drizzle
Speaker 1: the water over his chest. After a couple of minutes,
Speaker 1: he would pull a bit more up and toss it away.
Speaker 1: The rubon was not on a mission. He was content
Speaker 1: and labored only in the pool when he felt the urge. However,
Speaker 1: just as he was about to let go of a handful,
Speaker 1: a glitter caught his eyes attention, and he clamped down
Speaker 1: hard with his fingers before it could be thrown into
Speaker 1: the foliage. Perhaps it had been part of a brightly
Speaker 1: colored leaf that had tumbled down during the fall of
Speaker 1: the year and somehow managed to avoid the right process.
Speaker 1: Perhaps it had been the shell of something like a
Speaker 1: crawdad or a snail that had caught the light just so.
Speaker 1: But when his fingertip flicked away all the slimy debris,
Speaker 1: what was left was a nugget made of pure gold.
Speaker 1: The size of a musket's mini ball. Most would have
Speaker 1: examined and adored it for a moment, and then replaced
Speaker 1: it securely on the bank before plunging both hands up
Speaker 1: to the elbows back into the muck in search of
Speaker 1: more Reuben Miller wasn't like most people, though. He washed
Speaker 1: it thoroughly so he could admire it and all its splendor,
Speaker 1: and then he tossed it over onto his trousers, where
Speaker 1: it rolled off into the leaves. He reminded himself to
Speaker 1: make sure and relocate it before he left for the evening.
Speaker 1: He very much wanted to see how it glittered and
Speaker 1: brightened when illuminated by the firelight. He continued to deepen
Speaker 1: the pool, but only whenever the mood struck him. He did, however,
Speaker 1: take glances through the muck before simply throwing it into
Speaker 1: the trees and scrub it. Became something to do, and
Speaker 1: that was something he hadn't had in a long while.
Speaker 1: Over the following two weeks, the pool grew deeper, and
Speaker 1: his comfort level in the pool was considerably higher, and
Speaker 1: one of the two bowls that he had carved years
Speaker 1: ago now held more than two pounds of gold nuggets. Chips, flakes,
Speaker 1: and dust. He didn't have a pan of any kind,
Speaker 1: so the usual method of extracting gold, specks and dust
Speaker 1: from the mud wasn't available to him. But the other
Speaker 1: bowl was. Each evening before leaving the pool, he would
Speaker 1: fill the bowl full of mud and then return it
Speaker 1: to the coal shaft, where he would empty the black
Speaker 1: contents onto the rocks that surrounded his firepit to dry,
Speaker 1: and the next morning he would scrape the dried material
Speaker 1: from the rocks into his palm, and with the tip
Speaker 1: of his knife, he would separate the dirt from the gold.
Speaker 1: It was a tedious and mind numbing exercise, but he
Speaker 1: had nowhere to go, and he was in no hurry
Speaker 1: to build up his riches. Others would have torn down
Speaker 1: half the hardwood ridge to collect more, but others had
Speaker 1: things they could spend the wealth on in places that
Speaker 1: they could go to spend the wealth, and Reuben hadn't either.
Speaker 1: To Ruben, collecting the gold was the same as whittling
Speaker 1: or bird watching, just a new way of filling in
Speaker 1: the hours between when he awoke and when he laid
Speaker 1: down again. He was thankful for finding the gold, but
Speaker 1: not for the same reasons that others would have been.
Speaker 1: On occasion before he could stop it from happening. His
Speaker 1: mind would wonder, and he would begin to think of
Speaker 1: all that he could do with his newfound wealth. Not
Speaker 1: a large one, because the years had taught him how
Speaker 1: very little he needed to be sheltered and comfortable, but
Speaker 1: a fine house somewhere with a porch that caught the
Speaker 1: rising sun. He wouldn't mind having one of those on
Speaker 1: a lot with grass, and a picturesque town somewhere, a
Speaker 1: town with an eatery that served meals on tables with
Speaker 1: white tablecloths and kept plenty of cool buttermilk chilling in
Speaker 1: the spring house. He didn't think that he would ever
Speaker 1: want to prepare another meal for himself if it could
Speaker 1: be helped. But not that being wealthy made and want
Speaker 1: to have people serving him. He was just tired of
Speaker 1: killing and cooking his own food. A piece or two
Speaker 1: of fried chicken a couple of times a week wouldn't
Speaker 1: go down badly either, and skewered robins and woodpeckers roasted
Speaker 1: over a coal fire were not the same thing. Owning
Speaker 1: more than one pair of pants and two shirts per
Speaker 1: year wouldn't be bad. Sometimes it seemed as if his
Speaker 1: clothes didn't even need him in them to stand up
Speaker 1: on their own. Pants that weren't full of holes all
Speaker 1: the time would be nice. He was always dripping rabbit
Speaker 1: or possum blood as he prepared a supper for cooking,
Speaker 1: and the blood always managed to fall on the parts
Speaker 1: of his pants where his bony legs showed through pants
Speaker 1: that covered his legs entirely all the time. Well, he
Speaker 1: wouldn't feel awkward walking to the cafe and pants like
Speaker 1: that once every couple of weeks. Walking down to the
Speaker 1: barbering shop would be something to look forward to and
Speaker 1: not minding sitting on the bench and waiting his turn,
Speaker 1: because other men would be there and they would be
Speaker 1: telling stories about how well a particular pair of dogs
Speaker 1: had worked during a quell hunt, or whether red worms
Speaker 1: or night crawlers had been the preferred bait. On their
Speaker 1: last visit to the river to do some fishing for
Speaker 1: blue channel catfish, he would make sure that he had
Speaker 1: located into one of those towns that had a center,
Speaker 1: one of those places right in the middle of town
Speaker 1: where they had a nice little stage or platform built,
Speaker 1: and sometimes during the warm months when the weather was agreeable,
Speaker 1: folks would go up on it and play music and
Speaker 1: have singings. He had heard from some that he had
Speaker 1: served with that there were towns like that, and back
Speaker 1: in Marion, the Seilers each spring would straighten their place
Speaker 1: up and throw a barn dance, and that was fun.
Speaker 1: But he'd never seen a singing right in the middle
Speaker 1: of town before. He'd heard lots of singing, but it
Speaker 1: had always been in a church house, and they do
Speaker 1: more than frown on dancing there. All of that had
Speaker 1: an undeniable appeal, but it would never come to pass.
Speaker 1: And Reuben thought, as he stared at the goal that
Speaker 1: was slowly sifting through his fingers, you have to go
Speaker 1: to a town like that before you can live in
Speaker 1: a town like that, And going anywhere was out of
Speaker 1: the question. He couldn't leave this place until he knew
Speaker 1: for sure that the war was indeed finally over with,
Speaker 1: and he would never know that if he never left
Speaker 1: this place. It was a bit of a snake eating
Speaker 1: its own tail sort of affair. And even if he
Speaker 1: did somehow discovered that there had been a secession to
Speaker 1: the fighting and that everyone had shaken hands and made up,
Speaker 1: he would never know if a man was just looking
Speaker 1: at him wrong, or was eyeballing him to identify him.
Speaker 1: He was safe here, and he was secure here, but
Speaker 1: he was also trapped here. Thinking any way other than
Speaker 1: permanent residence here was just foolishness that gained him nothing
Speaker 1: other than sadness. Besides, what good would it do him
Speaker 1: to go to a town like he had conjured up?
Speaker 1: Even if he could get there and set up housekeeping.
Speaker 1: All the money he could carry might buy him something
Speaker 1: to wear other than rags, and it might put good
Speaker 1: food in his belly. But when he went back home afterwards,
Speaker 1: he would be walking alone, and the house would be
Speaker 1: dark when he arrived there. Those things would not bring
Speaker 1: him happiness. The one thing that would was days and
Speaker 1: days of walking away and probably mourning over an empty
Speaker 1: grave if she remembered him at all. That was a
Speaker 1: new thought. He shook the gold dust from his hand
Speaker 1: back into the crude bowl and sat back to ponder
Speaker 1: all these years with nothing for companionship save his own thoughts,
Speaker 1: And still he could have a new one now and again. Well,
Speaker 1: that took him by surprise. Of late, he had begun
Speaker 1: to think that he had used up all his allotment
Speaker 1: of original thoughts. And while the revelation was heartening, the
Speaker 1: subject was less so, simply because not a day in
Speaker 1: more than fifteen years had passed that he had not
Speaker 1: thought of her and all that was to have been
Speaker 1: it did not mean that she had passed her time
Speaker 1: in the same way. It was a sobering and dreadful notion,
Speaker 1: but one he could not blame her for. Old Man
Speaker 1: Whitlow remarried two weeks after his Eynez took her last breath,
Speaker 1: But he and Story were to have been different from
Speaker 1: those around them. What they had formed was stronger than
Speaker 1: log chains. At least that was the way he had
Speaker 1: always thought of the bond. She had been young and
Speaker 1: beautiful when he had walked away to fight in a
Speaker 1: war that neither of them truly understood, and while there
Speaker 1: were deep concerns on both of their parts, it was
Speaker 1: her hope and his intention to walk that same road
Speaker 1: back to her one day. But because he had not
Speaker 1: done that, had he had the right to expect her
Speaker 1: to grow old and maybe not so beautiful while she
Speaker 1: waited alone. Nothing had ever pleased Reuben so much as
Speaker 1: seeing Starry smile. It was her happiness that made him happy.
Speaker 1: Shouldn't he be sitting in his burrow, hoping that she
Speaker 1: found a way to be happy, after finally realizing that
Speaker 1: he was never coming back to her. No, he said aloud,
Speaker 1: storry is to be happy, but only because I am
Speaker 1: near to her. That was the vow that we made
Speaker 1: to each other. Never once have I forsaken her or
Speaker 1: forgotten to think of her in all these many years.
Speaker 1: I know Story better than any one. I know she
Speaker 1: has kept her promise and has done the same. No
Speaker 1: one was ever so true as story. Reuben felt better
Speaker 1: after reminding himself of that fact. Thirteen the musky dines
Speaker 1: were ripening in The basket that he had woven from
Speaker 1: oak splits and lined with fur was nearly full, but
Speaker 1: he flung it aside and threw himself into the nearest
Speaker 1: depression in the ground, and he held his breath as
Speaker 1: he listened. The horse that he had heard was close,
Speaker 1: not a few trees away and loping down the ridge,
Speaker 1: but close enough to hear. At least, he believed the
Speaker 1: sound to have come from a horse. He listened intently
Speaker 1: for a repeat of the sound. If he heard it again,
Speaker 1: he was almost sure that he would be able to
Speaker 1: verify his assessment. Or stand corrected. He just needed to
Speaker 1: hear it again to know there was a sound. Or
Speaker 1: he thought that maybe he had heard something he wasn't
Speaker 1: sure about the latest possible noise, And then it reached
Speaker 1: his ears again. The horse sound, not the possible other thing.
Speaker 1: It was almost definitely the sound a horse makes when
Speaker 1: it screams, either from terror or pain. Some don't know
Speaker 1: that horses can scream, but they can. He had heard
Speaker 1: them do it often enough when he had still been
Speaker 1: in the ranks. The horses are tough and strong, just
Speaker 1: like men are tough and strong, but both will scream
Speaker 1: under the right circumstances. He had heard the screams of
Speaker 1: both often enough, and the screaming had been one of
Speaker 1: the deciding factors in his decision to run away. He
Speaker 1: began to listen even harder, not for the sound again,
Speaker 1: so as to identify it. He now knew what he
Speaker 1: had heard. Now he needed to hear it again so
Speaker 1: he could know where it was coming from. Sounds here
Speaker 1: bounce off trees and stone and the ridges themselves. Yet
Speaker 1: to listen closely else the sounds would send you off
Speaker 1: in all directions. Owing to how noises swirl around here,
Speaker 1: it fell on his ears again, only softer and weaker, perhaps,
Speaker 1: but enough that Reuben thought he knew from where now.
Speaker 1: The leaves made no sound as he walked. Today had
Speaker 1: been the first day that he had awoken out of
Speaker 1: the past six that it hadn't been raining. It hadn't
Speaker 1: been a heavy downpour all of that time, but it
Speaker 1: had been steady and constant. He had been afraid that
Speaker 1: all the rain might have washed the musky dines from
Speaker 1: their vines, but it was still early enough in the
Speaker 1: season that they held on strong. It was why he
Speaker 1: had rushed to pick them up as soon as he
Speaker 1: had seen that the rain had stopped. He used to
Speaker 1: pick them every year as a boy for his mother
Speaker 1: to make jelly, just as he did with blackberries and crabapples. Obviously,
Speaker 1: he couldn't preserve the ones he picked now in any way,
Speaker 1: but they were sweet and good for eating straight from
Speaker 1: the basket, so long as it was done in moderation.
Speaker 1: Enough would induce scours, and he neither wanted or needed that.
Speaker 1: The sound of the distressed animal came to him again,
Speaker 1: and it was unmistakably weaker than before, but he believed
Speaker 1: himself to still be walking in the correct direction. It
Speaker 1: made sense the direction he was traveling. The sounds he
Speaker 1: was curious about were leading him toward the road that
Speaker 1: he sometimes watched as he sat with his back against
Speaker 1: a tree. If a horse was to be anywhere near here,
Speaker 1: it was logical that it would be in the proximity
Speaker 1: of the road. There was no certainty. He was simply
Speaker 1: guessing about things as each tidbit of information revealed itself.
Speaker 1: But since he now believed he knew exactly where the
Speaker 1: horse was, Reuben felt that he could walk a little
Speaker 1: faster and with less caution. He wanted to see what
Speaker 1: was going on. It had been a very long time
Speaker 1: since anything of note had occurred. This must have been
Speaker 1: how I felt as a sprout when the traveling side
Speaker 1: shows would come through and my father would take me
Speaker 1: to see them, he thought. It took a few moments
Speaker 1: to decipher what he was looking at. The jumble that
Speaker 1: filled his eyes was disorganized and messy and not immediately discernible.
Speaker 1: The horse screamed again. It was a weak scream, and
Speaker 1: there would be very few more unless something was done
Speaker 1: in quick order. The other sound that he had heard
Speaker 1: came again, also, and it was weaker than that of
Speaker 1: the animal, several somethings needed doing, or all would be
Speaker 1: silent soon. Reuben inched up a few feet for a
Speaker 1: better look and sat down on the wet leaves while
Speaker 1: he took it all in and gave what was before
Speaker 1: him some thought. All the days of constant rain had
Speaker 1: done more than prevented Reuben from going out to pull
Speaker 1: wild fruit from vines. He supposed that he might have
Speaker 1: considered a few of the hardship's people that lived in
Speaker 1: the real world might be struggling through at the same time,
Speaker 1: if he had given any time to thinking about it.
Speaker 1: But he had not done that. He tried hard not
Speaker 1: to think about the world that he was no longer
Speaker 1: part of if it could be avoided. So among all
Speaker 1: things that he had not considered as he sat by
Speaker 1: his fire during those days of constant rain was the
Speaker 1: beating the roads were taking because of the current conditions.
Speaker 1: The road just yards below him had suffered greatly. It
Speaker 1: never had been used heavily, so it was prepared for
Speaker 1: the assault. The once mediocre road was now little more
Speaker 1: than a winding brown strip of bog and slop. Maybe
Speaker 1: the wagon had been too heavily laden, or had been
Speaker 1: loaded improperly, or had been trying to take the slightly
Speaker 1: more than gradual curve too quickly. Reuben neither knew nor cared.
Speaker 1: All that was certain was that a few yards away
Speaker 1: a wagon was more off the road than it was
Speaker 1: on it, and a chubby, balding fellow of advancing years
Speaker 1: was trapped underneath it, and the horse that pulled it
Speaker 1: was too exhausted from fighting the mud to regain its feet.
Speaker 1: The horse was still in the harness, but it was
Speaker 1: on his knees and sliding more to its side with
Speaker 1: each passing minute. A rear wheel had slid, and now
Speaker 1: the older man was wedged between it and the mud.
Speaker 1: He was flat on his back, and the strength of
Speaker 1: his arms were all that was keeping the wheel from
Speaker 1: pinning him. Worse, his strength was failing, would soon be
Speaker 1: gone completely, and if a man of even nominal strength
Speaker 1: was to pull back on the wheel, even just a
Speaker 1: couple of inches, the older man could slide his bulbous
Speaker 1: body out of harm's way. Then the horse could be loosed,
Speaker 1: and it might not stand up instantly, but the wagon
Speaker 1: was going to continue to slide, and the animal would
Speaker 1: be left free to wallow and thrash as it liked
Speaker 1: until it was able to again stand. Reuben saw how
Speaker 1: all of this could be done with only a few
Speaker 1: moments of effort. He rubbed his chin and then thrust
Speaker 1: his hands into his trouser pockets as he strolled down
Speaker 1: to the wreckage. The man under the wagon actually started
Speaker 1: crying when he saw Reuben walk up and stand beside
Speaker 1: the wheel. The older man couldn't wipe the tears from
Speaker 1: his eyes without turning loose to the wheel, and that
Speaker 1: couldn't happen. He would have immediately been in worse shape
Speaker 1: than he was already in the tears of hope and
Speaker 1: joy rolled down his dirt round cheeks. I've never been
Speaker 1: happier to see a man in my entire life. I
Speaker 1: don't know how or why you happened up just now,
Speaker 1: and now I'm eternally grateful that you did. The older
Speaker 1: man wheezed out. The voice was strained and barely above
Speaker 1: a whisper, but still Reuben flinched and took a half
Speaker 1: step backwards. It had been the first voice he had
Speaker 1: heard other than his own in almost sixteen years. Why
Speaker 1: why are you so glad to see me? Reuben said softly,
Speaker 1: and slowly. The man tried chuckling, but the wagon slid
Speaker 1: another inch and cut off just that much more air
Speaker 1: that he needed. As you can clearly see, I've gotten
Speaker 1: myself into rather a spot of bother. My wagon threatened
Speaker 1: to sidle into the ditch as we began the curve.
Speaker 1: I was doing my best to keep it pushed up
Speaker 1: the hill while Jake kept pulling forward. And I think
Speaker 1: we were doing well until I slipped and fell. I
Speaker 1: hollered when I did, and it startled poor Jake. And
Speaker 1: you can see what has become of us. We've been
Speaker 1: here for some time and are more than ready to
Speaker 1: be free of the situation. Now that you are here,
Speaker 1: perhaps we can remedy all of this before long. The
Speaker 1: old man said, Oh, you mean that we could if
Speaker 1: I help you, Ruben said, A dark, confused expression clouded
Speaker 1: over the man's face when he heard Reuben's words. Why
Speaker 1: I do not understand you have to help me. I
Speaker 1: will surely die if you don't. The older man said, yes,
Speaker 1: you surely will, but no, I do not have to help. You.
Speaker 1: Always be accurate with your words. Less than that leads
Speaker 1: to misunderstandings. My father taught me that Now do be
Speaker 1: hushed for a time. It has been a while since
Speaker 1: I've looked at shop goods. I much desire to see
Speaker 1: what the world is claimed for these days, Ruben said,
Speaker 1: as he turned toward the back of the wagon and
Speaker 1: what used to be the road. The wagon contains nothing
Speaker 1: but women's clothing. It is what I deliver. Stores order
Speaker 1: them from the catalogs, and I deliver them. I'm just
Speaker 1: over at Hamilton making a delivery. Anyone there can vouch
Speaker 1: for me, the older man said. I have no need
Speaker 1: of others to aid me in making up my own mind.
Speaker 1: And I told you to be quiet for a while,
Speaker 1: Ruben said, before he disappeared from the old man's view.
Speaker 1: The old man hollered when the wagon grown and shifted
Speaker 1: as Ruben climbed up into the bed. Get hell. I
Speaker 1: cannot breathe, he managed to utter. Ruben heard him, but
Speaker 1: he kept looking through the parcels and the wagon. A
Speaker 1: wooden box under the seat held a fry pan, a
Speaker 1: couple of tin cups, and a small assortment of utensils.
Speaker 1: Ruben fastened the latch securely on the box and allowed
Speaker 1: it to fall over the side of the wagon into
Speaker 1: the mud. Obviously, the man had been telling the truth
Speaker 1: about what he did for a living. There was naught
Speaker 1: in the wagon aside from ladies where the wagon jiggled
Speaker 1: when Rubin jumped over the side onto the road, and
Speaker 1: the man squealed from the fright it gave him. If
Speaker 1: it's money that you're looking for, there's none among my
Speaker 1: things in the wagon. I have eight dollars in my
Speaker 1: coat pocket, which you are more than welcome to if
Speaker 1: you will assist me, the older man said in a
Speaker 1: hurried fashion. The money could be mine whether I assist
Speaker 1: you or not, but I have no need of eight dollars,
Speaker 1: Ruben said, as he walked by the man and headed
Speaker 1: toward the front of the wagon. The old man listened
Speaker 1: as the less than helpful Samaritan pulled something from the
Speaker 1: wagon's seat. He knew what it was being, as there
Speaker 1: was only one item up there. Ruben held the rifle
Speaker 1: out at arm's length and studied it. The shiny brass
Speaker 1: plate on the shoulder stock red given with sincere appreciation
Speaker 1: to William Sanders' honored friend and hero. Well, this is
Speaker 1: a fine piece of workmanship. My father owned the same make,
Speaker 1: but it wasn't near as nice as this one. How
Speaker 1: did you come by a weapon so nice as this one?
Speaker 1: Would you be William Sanders, Ruben asked as he walked
Speaker 1: back to the man lying on the ground. The man
Speaker 1: tried twice before he was able to manage making himself heard.
Speaker 1: I am William Saunders, and that rifle was given to
Speaker 1: me as a gesture of appreciation and gratitude some years back.
Speaker 1: It is all that I own, and it is dear
Speaker 1: to me, not because of what it is, but because
Speaker 1: of the people who gifted it to me. Saunders said, Well,
Speaker 1: the writing says that you are an honored friend and hero.
Speaker 1: How did you manage to become that? Ruben asked, It's
Speaker 1: not important, Sanders said. Saunders's face was turning shades of
Speaker 1: red and purple as he continued to struggle to keep
Speaker 1: the full weight of the wagon wheel from bearing down
Speaker 1: upon him. Now, you just lied to me, or you
Speaker 1: lied earlier. You said this rifle was dear to you
Speaker 1: and that it was the only thing that you possessed.
Speaker 1: You would have not have said that if it was
Speaker 1: a mere trifle, and they would not have gifted this
Speaker 1: to you for no reason. I would be interested in
Speaker 1: hearing how one becomes a genuine hero, not to mention
Speaker 1: an honored one at that, Reuben said, if you insist
Speaker 1: on hearing. I was in a town in Kentucky several
Speaker 1: years ago. I had not long been started in this profession,
Speaker 1: where I traveled so much. I was making ready to
Speaker 1: depart when the chaos began over a calamity that had begun.
Speaker 1: Some younger boys were doing nothing more than playing at
Speaker 1: mischief when they managed to set the schoolhouse on fire.
Speaker 1: Everyone was rushing for buckets of water when it was
Speaker 1: discovered that some of the youngest girls had opted to
Speaker 1: eat their noon meal indoors that day, and by the
Speaker 1: time anyone realized this, the building was burning greatly. No
Speaker 1: one knew exactly what should be done, and parents were
Speaker 1: running in from the town very much in a panic.
Speaker 1: For years before taking on my current profession, I had
Speaker 1: been an apprentice to a blacksmith, and being so near
Speaker 1: to the extreme heat was something I was familiar with.
Speaker 1: I ran at the door of the school and forced
Speaker 1: my way insight, and it was fortunate and that I
Speaker 1: found all three girls in short order, and they were alive.
Speaker 1: One clung to my neck, and while I carried the
Speaker 1: other two back to the door, into the fresh air
Speaker 1: in safety. That is all there is to the story,
Speaker 1: Saunders said. Reuben looked at the man under the wagon,
Speaker 1: and then again at the rifle. Believe me when I
Speaker 1: say this to you, for there is no jest of
Speaker 1: any kind in my words. What you did was a
Speaker 1: fine thing, and you are indeed deserving of their affection.
Speaker 1: You should have been honored, and you should feel pride
Speaker 1: in the action that you took that day. Reuben said, well,
Speaker 1: of honor you just as greatly if you will help
Speaker 1: me today. I own very little much of worth, but
Speaker 1: all that I have is yours. If you will only
Speaker 1: assist me for a moment, Sanders said, all that you
Speaker 1: have can be mine, whether I choose to dirty my
Speaker 1: hands or not. Aside from a fry pan and this rifle,
Speaker 1: you have nothing I desire or need. That is not
Speaker 1: why I've decided to let you lay there and accept
Speaker 1: whatever the fates decree. I live a rather isolated life,
Speaker 1: and perhaps only by an innocent slip of the tongue,
Speaker 1: you will one day relate the story of your salvation
Speaker 1: to someone. Now that I cannot allow, William Sanders, I'm
Speaker 1: going to take your fry pan and this rifle, along
Speaker 1: with your possible bag and horn of powder. But before
Speaker 1: I leave, I will wish you a speedy and painless passing.
Speaker 1: You deserve better than to die in the mud. You
Speaker 1: did a great and fine thing back then, and I
Speaker 1: hope that golden crown full of stars await you. I
Speaker 1: do not think you will wait long before you see it.
Speaker 1: Ruben said, So you truly are going to take from
Speaker 1: me my few meager possessions and then leave me to die.
Speaker 1: Sanders asked, yes, I am. I wish it were not so,
Speaker 1: but it is how it must be, Ruben said. Sanders
Speaker 1: was struggling more and more for each breath, but he
Speaker 1: was also angry, though he was trying to mask it
Speaker 1: with confusion. I do not understand why must it be
Speaker 1: this way. If the roles were reversed and I had
Speaker 1: found you in this position, I would have helped you
Speaker 1: all that I could. Sanders said, I have no doubt
Speaker 1: that your words are true ones, and I believe that
Speaker 1: no matter who was dying in the Mud, you would
Speaker 1: attempt to assist them. But I am not you. If
Speaker 1: I help you, then one day it will get out
Speaker 1: that I did, and it will become known that I exist.
Speaker 1: Maybe it will be of no consequence, but I cannot
Speaker 1: afford to take that chance. If I pilfer through your
Speaker 1: wagon extensively and then you are found, it will appear
Speaker 1: that some manner of road agent fell upon you, and
Speaker 1: the search for me will begin and will not likely end.
Speaker 1: I can't have that happening either. The same would happen
Speaker 1: if I did the merciful thing and ended your suffering quickly,
Speaker 1: your body would be found and the hunt would begin.
Speaker 1: And if I leave you as I found you, your
Speaker 1: death will be marked as an unfortunate accident, and that
Speaker 1: will be the end of it. Likely you will receive
Speaker 1: a proper burial out of it, as someone travels this
Speaker 1: road every couple of days. Reuben said this before he
Speaker 1: turned to walk once more into the trees. Well you
Speaker 1: do meet one kindness, Sanders asked, Will you do me
Speaker 1: just one and what would that be? Reuben asked, will
Speaker 1: you remove the tact from my good horse Jake, so
Speaker 1: that he might gain his footing and rise again. He's
Speaker 1: a good horse and has done nothing to earn a needless,
Speaker 1: suffering death. Sanders said, you are right. He is just
Speaker 1: an animal that does not deserve this. But when you
Speaker 1: were found but your animal is not, then it will
Speaker 1: be assumed that someone saw your misfortune as an easy
Speaker 1: opportunity to steal your horse. Men who still horses are
Speaker 1: looked upon less favorably than those who would leave you
Speaker 1: to die in the mud. I'm sorry, but for my
Speaker 1: own sense of well being, I'm afraid that poor old
Speaker 1: Jake must suffer the same fate as his master. My
Speaker 1: life would be upended if I were to supply either
Speaker 1: of you with help. Good day, William Sanders, it was
Speaker 1: an honor to meet you. We will not see each
Speaker 1: other again, Reuben said, just before he disappeared into the tree.
Speaker 1: Reuben forced himself not to look back at the wreckage
Speaker 1: he had walked away from. In the days to come,
Speaker 1: he would just adamantly force himself not to return to
Speaker 1: the point on the hardwood ridge from where he could
Speaker 1: see the road. Curiosity would grip him with iron like
Speaker 1: hands on occasion and beg him to go and see
Speaker 1: if the bodies had yet been removed, or did they
Speaker 1: still remain drying, even as the mud was drying around them.
Speaker 1: He would not return to that place, not even to
Speaker 1: look from a distance. To do so would give him
Speaker 1: the opening he needed to begin second guessing the decision
Speaker 1: that he had made. He would not allow himself to
Speaker 1: do that either. He had done what needed to be
Speaker 1: done in the name of self preservation. No man could
Speaker 1: be condemned for doing that, not by his peers, and
Speaker 1: certainly not by himself. He regretted having to make the
Speaker 1: choice and the way that he had made it, but
Speaker 1: that did not mean that his decision had been the
Speaker 1: wrong one. He regretted the way that he had chosen
Speaker 1: to do many things during the past sixteen years, but
Speaker 1: he was content in that he believed all those choices
Speaker 1: to have been the correct ones. Many regret decisions they make,
Speaker 1: and few can say that all they made had been
Speaker 1: the right decision. He could say this fourteen The meat
Speaker 1: tasted better than any he had eaten in a very
Speaker 1: long time. It had only been a yearling dough, small
Speaker 1: enough for him to have managed on to his shoulders
Speaker 1: so that he could move nearly a mile from where
Speaker 1: he had shot it before beginning to dress it out
Speaker 1: lest someone nearby had heard the gun go off, but
Speaker 1: still large enough to provide him with several days worth
Speaker 1: of meat. The rifle that had once belonged to William
Speaker 1: Sanders not only appeared fine to the eye, but it
Speaker 1: also shot accurately, and Reuben, having been a batter than
Speaker 1: average marksmen in his younger days, used a quality firearm
Speaker 1: to bring down the deer in short order. It took
Speaker 1: the better part of the day for him to cook
Speaker 1: all the meat so that it wouldn't go bad, and
Speaker 1: to prepare the hide for stretching while it cured. Now
Speaker 1: the days could go on as usual, but now there
Speaker 1: was meat set aside in case the snares fell on
Speaker 1: hard times for a day or two, and at night
Speaker 1: he would have a sizeable fur to drape over himself
Speaker 1: while he slept. Compared to the way that he had
Speaker 1: been getting by for more than sixteen years, he was
Speaker 1: now enjoying being in the lap of luxury, far from
Speaker 1: what the kings of the countries are accustomed to, but
Speaker 1: for someone who had spent almost half his life living
Speaker 1: underground in a coal vein, it was a marked step up.
Speaker 1: He cut another of the ribs loose from the dough's
Speaker 1: cage and sat back in his chabby rendition of a
Speaker 1: chair to savor it. He had read as often as
Speaker 1: he could when he had been a young man, before
Speaker 1: the war had changed him as it had changed no other.
Speaker 1: A few hundred miles to the west, and then across
Speaker 1: the Mississippi, or as the Algonquin Indians called it, the
Speaker 1: Father of Waters. From there it would be a journey
Speaker 1: across the plains, and then his eyes would behold the rockies,
Speaker 1: just as Lewis and Clark had seen them. Surely no
Speaker 1: one so far west would be apt to recognize him,
Speaker 1: And until he reached that place where east was indeed
Speaker 1: separated from the west, he could be cautious and keep
Speaker 1: only to himself. Then he could disappear into those mountains.
Speaker 1: There he would be isolated as he was now, but
Speaker 1: he would have the freedom to move about, hunt and
Speaker 1: explore as he wished, maybe even build a small proper
Speaker 1: cabin to live in, begin to once again live. Existing
Speaker 1: was what he was doing now, existing until the inevitable
Speaker 1: time that he no longer did the he would already
Speaker 1: be buried. This place that he thought of as a
Speaker 1: sheltering and providing home was really just a tomb a grave.
Speaker 1: They hadn't filled in yet, and each day that he
Speaker 1: awoke he found himself a little more dead than he
Speaker 1: had been the day before. But it would not have
Speaker 1: to continue, not if he was in a place like
Speaker 1: the Rockies. Anytime that he liked, he could eat elk
Speaker 1: liver for supper, and then go and rinse the grease
Speaker 1: from his fingers in the clear, cool streams that were
Speaker 1: full of trout. He could live there unmolested by the locals,
Speaker 1: because he would make it clear to them that he
Speaker 1: was only one man there to abide, with no intentions
Speaker 1: of settling anything. For those that they had thought were
Speaker 1: to follow him, they would leave him alone, and he
Speaker 1: would do the same with them. And then, one day,
Speaker 1: when the winters pained his bones too much to stay,
Speaker 1: he would continue moving west until he felt the warm
Speaker 1: spray of an ocean in his face. He had never
Speaker 1: seen an ocean, only read about them. Some He thought
Speaker 1: it would be pleasurable to take up residence where the
Speaker 1: water in front of him was so vast that the
Speaker 1: far bank could not be seen. Perhaps hire himself on
Speaker 1: as part of a crew that sailed great ships across
Speaker 1: the oceans to places that had never been written about.
Speaker 1: Perhaps he would even be one of those who chased
Speaker 1: after a whale. He had seen drawings of the men
Speaker 1: that worked on those ships, and from those depictions, it
Speaker 1: appeared as if each and every one of them were
Speaker 1: in the same boat as he was, or similar enough
Speaker 1: so that it didn't matter. He had to assume that
Speaker 1: some of the men that did that type of work
Speaker 1: were doing so because it had been a calling or
Speaker 1: a lifelong dream, but the majority could easily have been
Speaker 1: marked as men who were escaping life. It's what he
Speaker 1: would be doing if he set foot on a deck
Speaker 1: and made his mark in the captain's ledger book. It
Speaker 1: was such an easy way to fade into the backdrop
Speaker 1: that he couldn't have been the first to do it.
Speaker 1: He was only more or less thirty six years of age,
Speaker 1: and this life he had been living for more than
Speaker 1: a decade and a half had made him strong of limb,
Speaker 1: and deep winded. Once shown what his duties were, Reuben
Speaker 1: believed himself as capable as any man, likely more so
Speaker 1: than most. In fear of holding his own in any
Speaker 1: work didn't reside within him, but close quarters with men
Speaker 1: for months or perhaps years at a time would be
Speaker 1: a situation to overcome. He remembered how loud and harsh
Speaker 1: the man that had been trapped underneath the wagon had
Speaker 1: sounded when he spoke. It wasn't the man's voice or
Speaker 1: tone that Reuben had found off putting. It had been
Speaker 1: that he had spoken at all. He wondered if he
Speaker 1: could grow used to the constant chatter of men again.
Speaker 1: It had taken years to grow accustomed to the quiet.
Speaker 1: What would happen if he could not adjust to the opposite.
Speaker 1: There would be no running away once he put to sea.
Speaker 1: And hadn't it been the noise that had compelled him
Speaker 1: to run and find this sanctuary in the first place,
Speaker 1: But that had been a different sort of noise altogether.
Speaker 1: Wouldn't that make a difference. It would have to, wouldn't it.
Speaker 1: On board a ship there were bound to be the
Speaker 1: occasional butting of heads, differences of opinion that couldn't be ignored,
Speaker 1: just a fraying of nerves for no reason other than
Speaker 1: close confinement and constantly doing the same labors that had
Speaker 1: been done since leaving port. Those were bound to grow
Speaker 1: into heated arguments and even the swinging of fists periodically.
Speaker 1: But no matter what, it wouldn't be the same assault
Speaker 1: on his senses that had caused him to flee the battlefield,
Speaker 1: men left and right, day after day wouldn't be screaming
Speaker 1: and dying because of what heinous pieces of flying burning
Speaker 1: lead had done to their bodies. Always, always, there was
Speaker 1: the sound of musket fire and cannon fire, and above
Speaker 1: it all were the voices ordering men to rush toward
Speaker 1: it and even into it. That would not be on
Speaker 1: a ship. And at the end of the day, when
Speaker 1: the labors were suspended for a few hours, while the
Speaker 1: men were crawling into their box or gathering around a
Speaker 1: table to play cards for match sticks, he could again
Speaker 1: slink away and do as he had done on the
Speaker 1: battlefield and go where the noise wasn't, find a place
Speaker 1: to sit on the deck while he heard naught but
Speaker 1: the sails snapping as they filled, and the waves lapping
Speaker 1: at the sides of the ship. And from that place
Speaker 1: he would be able to lay his head back and
Speaker 1: see the stars as they were meant to be seen,
Speaker 1: not through the branches of trees, and certainly not from
Speaker 1: a hole in the ground, as a burrowing animal might
Speaker 1: see a larger world that surrounded his home. There on
Speaker 1: deck of a ship, he could be himself, while connected
Speaker 1: to humanity, or at least a version of it. People
Speaker 1: would be just a few steps away if he wished
Speaker 1: to talk, but that would only happen when he'd had
Speaker 1: his fill of looking at the starry sky, and from
Speaker 1: that place, as he ventured from one side of the
Speaker 1: world to the other, he could wonder and hope that
Speaker 1: his own story happened to have been unable to sleep
Speaker 1: and was herself looking up at the same time. There
Speaker 1: would be a barely measurable satisfaction in knowing that they
Speaker 1: had at least connected again, if only by both of
Speaker 1: them taking a glance up at the same time. Could
Speaker 1: a contentment or peace be found halfway around the world
Speaker 1: that could not be found here, he wondered. At first
Speaker 1: he thought yes, but as he considered it deeper, he
Speaker 1: was near certain that content and peaceful were feelings that
Speaker 1: would never be afforded him. Being on the deck of
Speaker 1: a ship and feeling the warm spray on his face
Speaker 1: might seem like all that was necessary to finally be
Speaker 1: at peace, but it would never happen, And even wishing
Speaker 1: when he knew full well that it was nothing aside
Speaker 1: from a wasted wish, and it made him hate his
Speaker 1: reality even more. Once the infinite wisdom of the universe
Speaker 1: had shown him the pair of choices that lay before him,
Speaker 1: and he had chosen at a different place, on a
Speaker 1: different day, and at a different age. He might have
Speaker 1: chosen otherwise, but the choice had indeed been made, and
Speaker 1: the die was cast. Now the dealing with the aftermath
Speaker 1: was all that remained, and it would remain each day
Speaker 1: until there were no more days to be granted him.
Speaker 1: He could run to whoever he chose, and no one,
Speaker 1: in no thing was stopping him from doing so. Once
Speaker 1: he had run, had run away from a thing that
Speaker 1: had been successful. Now he was just as free to
Speaker 1: run as he had been then. But he could no
Speaker 1: longer run away from this thing that he was becoming
Speaker 1: hateful of. He could only run to hate it in
Speaker 1: a new place, a place that it likely wouldn't be
Speaker 1: so accommodating. Reuben realized that while his mind had wandered
Speaker 1: and realizations were being made known to him, he had
Speaker 1: forgotten to chew. How long had he been sitting there
Speaker 1: thinking with a mouthful of meat, He did not know.
Speaker 1: What he did know was that he had lost his
Speaker 1: desire to taste or swallow it. He threw the meat
Speaker 1: covered bone that he was holding into the fire and
Speaker 1: spit the mouthful into the flames to follow it. He
Speaker 1: was sinking quickly into that place again, that bad place
Speaker 1: where it seemed that light could never enter, that place
Speaker 1: where the darkness didn't take away your sight. It was
Speaker 1: the place where the darkness covered you and seeped into
Speaker 1: you by way of your pores, and squeezed until you
Speaker 1: felt your soul dying. He had been there before on
Speaker 1: numerous occasions. In fact, knowing that he would not die
Speaker 1: when he went there brought no relief. It was still
Speaker 1: a horrible thing to go through. The worst was knowing
Speaker 1: that he invited himself to go each time, things he
Speaker 1: could have avoided or denied himself for the passage ticket.
Speaker 1: But for all the heart sick he had felt and
Speaker 1: was feeling now, sometimes it was worth all the pain.
Speaker 1: Sometimes this place really got its claws into him, and
Speaker 1: his despise of this place became almost more than he
Speaker 1: could contain. But it wasn't this place, this rather small
Speaker 1: opening in the earth, where he had lived for so
Speaker 1: very long, and his hatred of it had sent him
Speaker 1: to those dark depths. It was the wondering about the
Speaker 1: what ifs, and the memories of what was that took
Speaker 1: him there? If he were a stronger man, he could
Speaker 1: stop himself from imagining and remembering. He could go each
Speaker 1: day and collect a supper from a snare, and he
Speaker 1: could spend all day sorting sand from gold and add
Speaker 1: another half pound to his collection. He could do these
Speaker 1: things and would have ceased to live. Oh, he would
Speaker 1: still be alive, but not like everyone else. Admittedly he
Speaker 1: was nothing like anyone else. But to give up his
Speaker 1: ability to imagine a life different than the one he
Speaker 1: now lived, or recall those moments that he was so
Speaker 1: fond of, just so that the pain would not follow afterwards,
Speaker 1: he would not do. Other men had times of imagining
Speaker 1: themselves to be different than they presently were, and they
Speaker 1: were also permitted to relive moments dear to them. He
Speaker 1: would not give those things up. He would not further
Speaker 1: separate himself from the whole of mankind just to avoid
Speaker 1: the darkness. He shouldn't have to do that, should he.
Speaker 1: He had already given up so very much. The pain
Speaker 1: and the darkness did not come while he was sitting
Speaker 1: on the deck of a ship, or tending a fire
Speaker 1: in a proper fireplace in a cabin within the Rockies
Speaker 1: or bitter Root or Teton mountain ranges. And it did
Speaker 1: not as he sat beside a small quiet pond holding
Speaker 1: Storry Henderson's hand. It came when he opened his eyes
Speaker 1: and looked around and saw that he was still only
Speaker 1: one step removed from the animals that live in burrows
Speaker 1: like he lived. That was when the darkness overwhelmed him.
Speaker 1: And when he saw the ragged assortment of sticks covered
Speaker 1: with skins of animals that served as his bed, And
Speaker 1: when he saw the only fry pan that he had
Speaker 1: stolen from a dying man, And when he saw his
Speaker 1: long fingernails with dirt wedge under them, that was when
Speaker 1: he knew that he would never again know the touch
Speaker 1: of story, would never again hear how she was looking
Speaker 1: forward to spending the remainder of her life beside him.
Speaker 1: That was when the darkness fell like a cold, sodden
Speaker 1: blanket upon him, and the pain began. Fifteen just before
Speaker 1: the small bell that hung by the thin wire above
Speaker 1: the door began and appeal, that was when it happened.
Speaker 1: Utilitarian type knives that anyone who worked on a farm
Speaker 1: a running trap lines might be able to make use
Speaker 1: of had arrived earlier in the day, wrapped securely in
Speaker 1: old brown paper to ward off rust and prevent Nixon's
Speaker 1: scratches during their journey from the manufacturer to the various
Speaker 1: stores and shops that had ordered them. Her father liked
Speaker 1: knives of all shapes and sizes, always had, so he
Speaker 1: was as usual excitedself when they finally offloaded from the wagon.
Speaker 1: He had been waiting anxiously for some time for them
Speaker 1: to finally arrive. She had waited just as long for
Speaker 1: some curtain linen by the bolt to get to the store,
Speaker 1: but he couldn't have cared less about that. It was
Speaker 1: the knives that he wanted to unwrap and clean up
Speaker 1: so that they shone like mirrors in his display case.
Speaker 1: He did as he normally did when new stock that
Speaker 1: he had been answer awaiting finally arrived. He tore open
Speaker 1: the boxes like a man on a mission, and through
Speaker 1: anything other than what he was waiting on to wherever
Speaker 1: it chose to land. It was his store. Maggie simply
Speaker 1: worked there. She was his daughter and saw timore of
Speaker 1: the daily running of the place than even he was
Speaker 1: aware of. But picking up and disposing of the papers
Speaker 1: that products had been wrapped in was a chore for
Speaker 1: someone of lesser rank than the owner. She had just
Speaker 1: finished filling the wooden keg with fifteen pounds of flour
Speaker 1: so that the customers could weigh out as much as
Speaker 1: they wanted or had funds to purchase. It was her
Speaker 1: intention to gather up all the old papers after she
Speaker 1: had moved the keg to its customary position on the
Speaker 1: table in the center of the room. She didn't like
Speaker 1: those greasy papers littering the hardwood floor that she scrubbed
Speaker 1: and waxed at least once a week. She kept the
Speaker 1: floors too nice and shiny for disorder, toy from her
Speaker 1: hard work. As soon as she felt her foot slide
Speaker 1: on one of the papers, she immediately wished that she
Speaker 1: had replaced the lid on the keg before moving it,
Speaker 1: or tidied up the papers. At least one slip, one
Speaker 1: misplaced step, and for a moment, a fifteen pound cloud
Speaker 1: hung in the air, and then it didn't any longer.
Speaker 1: It would be many years before Maggie Neil heard the
Speaker 1: word gravity and what it meant, but in that small
Speaker 1: store that afternoon, she understood just how cruel that same
Speaker 1: gravity could be. The keg rolled away from her and
Speaker 1: across the room as she sat coughing out puffs of flour,
Speaker 1: and that was when the door opened. Storry immediately whipped
Speaker 1: out a handkerchief from her sleeve and began to fan
Speaker 1: the air with it to try to disperse some of
Speaker 1: the haze. She wasn't dressed as finally as she had
Speaker 1: been when Maggie had last seen her, but she was
Speaker 1: still just as elegant looking. There was something about the
Speaker 1: way and which Story carried herself that made her all
Speaker 1: the time appear a bit more put together than any
Speaker 1: of those around her. But despite her lady like ways,
Speaker 1: she could not refrain from laughing out loud. When she
Speaker 1: finally saw Maggie sitting on the floor, covered head to
Speaker 1: toe with white flower, she looked like a living snowman. Story. Well,
Speaker 1: I've seen to come at a bad time, Story said,
Speaker 1: I will leave and come back when your hands aren't
Speaker 1: so quite full. Well, if you leave now, I will
Speaker 1: never allow you back inside this store again. Now, hurry
Speaker 1: up and lock that door before anyone comes in and
Speaker 1: sees me in this condition. Maggie said, it wasn't that
Speaker 1: Story kept giggling and sometimes just outright belly laughing. It
Speaker 1: was the fact that she never once tried to hide
Speaker 1: the fact that she thought all of this was deliciously funny.
Speaker 1: Once Maggie had stood up and his story began using
Speaker 1: the broom to sweep the majority of the flower off
Speaker 1: of her, it begins. It's starkly evident that Maggie's cheeks
Speaker 1: were terribly red underneath all the white. Maggie was sweeping
Speaker 1: up all the flour on the floor while Story poured
Speaker 1: them each a cup of coffee from the pot on
Speaker 1: the woodstove. Now try not to shake your head back
Speaker 1: and forth as you speak, dear, it looks like snow
Speaker 1: falling off the cedar boughs during a stiffed wind each
Speaker 1: time you do that, Story told her when they had
Speaker 1: taken seats on the stools behind the counter. Now, don't
Speaker 1: you think that you should unlock the door in case
Speaker 1: someone comes in and wants to buy something? Starry asked,
Speaker 1: you haven't heard anyone trying the door since you've been here,
Speaker 1: have you? No one comes in this time of day.
Speaker 1: It's the time of day when usually I can get
Speaker 1: the most done because I'm alone. Maggie said, Well, I
Speaker 1: came in at this time of day. Storry said, well,
Speaker 1: I was talking about regular people. You aren't regular people.
Speaker 1: Maggie said, well, I'm not entirely sure how I'm supposed
Speaker 1: to feel about what you just said, Story told her.
Speaker 1: Maggie didn't try explaining what she had meant. She figured
Speaker 1: Story already knew and was just making polite conversation. And
Speaker 1: by the way, why are you in the store. What
Speaker 1: are you doing back in Hamilton? I figured you'd be
Speaker 1: too busy running Baltimore alongside your husband, Maggie said, me
Speaker 1: and Baltimore Oil and Water. My husband adored that town,
Speaker 1: but it was always too busy for me. There is
Speaker 1: an awful lot to do there, and it seems as
Speaker 1: if there's always something new to look at. But no
Speaker 1: matter what, I always felt rushed at whatever I was doing.
Speaker 1: Starry said, you said that your husband adored Baltimore. Did
Speaker 1: something sour him to the town or does he just
Speaker 1: have no reason now to return to it? Maggie asked,
Speaker 1: if he'd had his wish, Paul would never have stepped
Speaker 1: outside of Baltimore's city limits. Again, Paul was having a
Speaker 1: supper with some men that he did business with, and
Speaker 1: then came home afterwards, complaining that something that he had
Speaker 1: eaten had not agreed with him. That wasn't the first time,
Speaker 1: and Paul did everything that he did at a full run,
Speaker 1: and he never stopped to even slow down. Eating included.
Speaker 1: He had what my father would have called a nervous disposition.
Speaker 1: He was even that way with his affections. So even
Speaker 1: if I were not particularly longing for such things, it
Speaker 1: was over with rather quickly. But that night, when he
Speaker 1: returned to our home, he really didn't look at all well.
Speaker 1: We called the doctor, and the man stayed by Paul's
Speaker 1: bedside with diligence all through the night as he steadily worsened,
Speaker 1: but nothing, it seemed, could be done to save him.
Speaker 1: That was three months ago. Our daughter is back in
Speaker 1: mary and being cared for by my mother. She is
Speaker 1: just learning to walk now. Well. I had to return
Speaker 1: to Baltimore to settle some affairs and see to the
Speaker 1: selling of our home. I will surely miss Paul, but
Speaker 1: maryn is home again, and I will take comfort and
Speaker 1: no small amount of pleasure in raising my daughter there.
Speaker 1: Storry said, I'm very sorry to hear of your loss.
Speaker 1: I'm sure it has been terrible for you. Maggie said,
Speaker 1: as she patted the woman's hand. I would imagine that
Speaker 1: there will be a few moments of deep grief to
Speaker 1: come my way yet, But honestly, I have not had
Speaker 1: time to indulge myself with sorrow or pity. Too many
Speaker 1: things needed to be seen to. Ruby had to be
Speaker 1: taken care of, and Paul's business affairs did as well.
Speaker 1: The men that Paul dealt with were very kind and sympathetic,
Speaker 1: but once he had been buried, then the demands began.
Speaker 1: They liked Paul, that business was uppermost on their minds,
Speaker 1: and I had to wade into that immediately. I had
Speaker 1: a fair understanding of what all Paul did because I
Speaker 1: helped him with certain parts of his work. It was
Speaker 1: his opinion that the more work I did that that
Speaker 1: was just so much less that needed to be done
Speaker 1: by someone who required payment for their work. And if
Speaker 1: I were doing the work, then it would be done
Speaker 1: from my home. If something needed attention, a trip to
Speaker 1: an office or a delay until the following day would
Speaker 1: not be necessary. So because of that knowledge, I have
Speaker 1: been able to keep the business functioning and intend to
Speaker 1: keep doing so. Story said, but you're going to do
Speaker 1: it for Marion. Maggie said, why that's correct. Baltimore is
Speaker 1: a fine place, but I wished to raise Ruby where
Speaker 1: I was raised. She is scarcely overyear old, and it
Speaker 1: is awful that she grew up never knowing her father.
Speaker 1: So I want her to know the rest of her
Speaker 1: family to make up for that. Story said, and you
Speaker 1: named her Ruby, Maggie said, I did. She is my
Speaker 1: precious jewel, the one I was certain that I would
Speaker 1: never have. Story said, she being your jewel is not
Speaker 1: why you named her as you did, is it, Maggie
Speaker 1: ask Story took a sip of her cold coffee and
Speaker 1: made a face stealed for the taste. Now she drank
Speaker 1: all that remained in the cup. We never discussed it.
Speaker 1: We knew that we wanted a family, two or three
Speaker 1: children running around and getting under foot all the time,
Speaker 1: but we never went so far as to consider names.
Speaker 1: Now I will never know if he thought about the subject,
Speaker 1: but I always knew that our first child would be
Speaker 1: named after him. Ruben is a fine name for a
Speaker 1: boy that would have grown into a kind and strong man,
Speaker 1: just like his father Ruby, because she would be precious
Speaker 1: just like her father. But he was taken from me
Speaker 1: before those names could be given to our children. She
Speaker 1: was my first, and I was determined to name her
Speaker 1: as I had always planned. Paul was very fond of
Speaker 1: our daughter, but he never had a thought one way
Speaker 1: or the other about what she should be named. So
Speaker 1: I was happy, and I suppose he was content with
Speaker 1: my choice. Story said, by naming her as you did,
Speaker 1: is that not a constant, painful reminder of something maybe
Speaker 1: best left in the past, Maggie asked, Everything, in some
Speaker 1: way is a reminder some things refused to be left behind.
Speaker 1: Paul was a fine man, but being such a contrast
Speaker 1: made him the biggest reminder. The memories that are so
Speaker 1: treasured by me couldnt be seen as clearly where I
Speaker 1: was and had been for these past two years. So
Speaker 1: I'm going back to where they are vivid, and it
Speaker 1: is there that I will raise their namesake. I will
Speaker 1: tell my daughter often about her father, so that in
Speaker 1: some ways she will know him, But in my heart,
Speaker 1: I will always wish that different blood flowed through her veins,
Speaker 1: Story said. The women sat in silence for a time.
Speaker 1: Neither of them made a move to refill the cups.
Speaker 1: Will you ever come by and see me again? Maggie
Speaker 1: asked as she unlocked the door. I do hope so.
Speaker 1: I would like that very much, Maggie, But I think
Speaker 1: my traveling days are over with for a long while.
Speaker 1: At least I hope that they are. For now. I
Speaker 1: just want to raise my daughter. Story said you sadden me,
Speaker 1: story good night, more than anyone I have ever met.
Speaker 1: You saddened me, Maggie said as she opened the door. Well,
Speaker 1: I sadden myself. If I should learn the secret to
Speaker 1: putting it away from myself, I will share the secret
Speaker 1: with you, though I fear that the secret does not exist,
Speaker 1: Storry said as she wrapped her arms around Maggie. Into
Speaker 1: her ear, Storry whispered to the shopkeeper, you think at
Speaker 1: the time that moment you create her of importance, But
Speaker 1: one day you will realize that those memories of those
Speaker 1: moments are the most important things in the world. Some
Speaker 1: days they are all that sustain you, and without them
Speaker 1: you would surely fall from this world into the known blackness.
Speaker 1: Maggie quickly closed the door and rushed herself behind the counter.
Speaker 1: She did not want to own the memory of the
Speaker 1: sad woman driving away all alone. Sixteen. He shivered and
Speaker 1: shook racking tremors rattled his entire body almost without end
Speaker 1: unless he focused and gripped himself tightly, but they came
Speaker 1: again almost as soon as the last episode had stopped,
Speaker 1: cold as he had never experienced, had him in its clutches.
Speaker 1: He forced his teeth together and bent down hard as
Speaker 1: he tried to become one ferocious knot of limb and
Speaker 1: flesh and sinew. The fire was dying. He squirmed and
Speaker 1: writhed himself nearer to what remained, but felt no additional warmth.
Speaker 1: After having done so, he was hugging himself beneath the
Speaker 1: furs that he had covered himself with. Maybe had helped
Speaker 1: a little, though he wasn't sure. The last thing he
Speaker 1: wanted to do was force an arm out from under
Speaker 1: his fur blanket. But if the fire were not improved,
Speaker 1: he had no idea what he would do when it
Speaker 1: finally went out. There was no way that he would
Speaker 1: survive the process of starting a new one. He wasn't
Speaker 1: all that sure that he would survive with the existing one,
Speaker 1: but still it remained that he needed to do something
Speaker 1: before it was too late. With teeth chattering and clacking
Speaker 1: together in a soft, pitiful whimpering, escaping him. He reached
Speaker 1: out and pulled his chair closer, and then tipped it
Speaker 1: over to fall upon the small flames. The additional heat
Speaker 1: was not immediately felt, but the sound of wood crackling
Speaker 1: and popping as the fire began to eat it it
Speaker 1: reassured him, and he clutched it himself again under the
Speaker 1: hides of those animals that he had killed over the years.
Speaker 1: There was an infinite amount of coal left to be
Speaker 1: chipped away from the walls, but he did not know
Speaker 1: if he could stand, much less swing a heavy, cold
Speaker 1: steel rifle barrel with any strength, and for a moment
Speaker 1: he did not concentrate on the new warmth the blazing
Speaker 1: wood was providing. He thought instead of what he was
Speaker 1: going to do when his chair had become nothing more
Speaker 1: than ashes. He would still be without strength, and would
Speaker 1: still be without stamina, and the room would begin to
Speaker 1: grow cold again. He peeked out from under his furs,
Speaker 1: and he saw the two pouches stowed under his bed.
Speaker 1: There was more than five pounds of gold nuggets and
Speaker 1: dust and flakes in each one. Now he would gladly
Speaker 1: have given both just to be warm again and to
Speaker 1: be sipping a cup of hot tea like his mother
Speaker 1: used to make. His body shook violently again with chills,
Speaker 1: and he groaned. It had started just as a minor
Speaker 1: itch somewhere in the back and down toward the bottom
Speaker 1: of his throat. No matter how often he swallowed, he
Speaker 1: just couldn't seem to tame it. It wasn't worrisome, it
Speaker 1: was just extremely annoying. The emptiness of his life had
Speaker 1: become something of a routine, and things that changed that
Speaker 1: simple routine were annoyances to him. He had become extremely
Speaker 1: intolerant of annoyances. It had only been his better nature
Speaker 1: that had prevented him from eating three of the potatoes
Speaker 1: that he had snitched from the bin beside the smokehouse
Speaker 1: of the farmstead a few miles down the way last fall.
Speaker 1: The potatoes were good when fried in the dripplings from
Speaker 1: the meat that he was roasting, good enough that he
Speaker 1: could have eaten two a night instead of just one,
Speaker 1: and good enough that it had been a struggle to
Speaker 1: lay three of them by untouched. He had saved the
Speaker 1: ones with the most eyes so that he could plant
Speaker 1: his own hills, and by his count, he should have
Speaker 1: thirteen the plant if he ended up being fortunate, he
Speaker 1: would harvest potatoes of his own from six to seven hills.
Speaker 1: He was hoping that the wildlife left him that many
Speaker 1: unmolested or destroyed. The animals that were around ate most anything,
Speaker 1: but for some reason they were not so fond of
Speaker 1: potato vines, and he hoped that worked in his favor.
Speaker 1: It was cool out first thing that morning, perhaps a
Speaker 1: bit early in the year for setting tater hills, but
Speaker 1: he decided to risk it. He had long ago figured
Speaker 1: out that trying to hide or make his planting seem
Speaker 1: invisible did him no good. The animals around eventually found
Speaker 1: them anyway. Now he tried to put whatever he planted
Speaker 1: where they could catch the most sunlight. It wasn't the
Speaker 1: easiest thing to do, given how deep he was in
Speaker 1: the trees. He only had two potato slips left to
Speaker 1: bury when he had wiped the dirt from the side
Speaker 1: of his nose and frowned. He realized as he was
Speaker 1: wiping the dirt away that when he had pressed a
Speaker 1: finger against his nose so that he could blow it
Speaker 1: and clear away the obstructions, that it had been the
Speaker 1: third time he had done that that morning. He thought
Speaker 1: about the itch deep down in his throat, and he
Speaker 1: knew what lay ahead of him. Days, perhaps many as
Speaker 1: eight or ten of them, he would be blowing his
Speaker 1: nose and coughing, and all the time feeling as if
Speaker 1: he needed to swallow, but knowing that it was going
Speaker 1: to hurt. Each and every time. His eyes would swell
Speaker 1: nearly shut, and he might even have a fever some
Speaker 1: of the time. He had been fortunate in that he
Speaker 1: had only taken the coal three or four times in
Speaker 1: the nearly seventeen years that he had been living as
Speaker 1: he was, he sort of half smiled. He was fortunate
Speaker 1: in that he hadn't died during the first year that
Speaker 1: damn tooth episode had tried its best to do him in. Also,
Speaker 1: after he had been here a while, he nodded to himself,
Speaker 1: and if the rotten tooth hadn't killed him, then the
Speaker 1: dang spring coal wasn't likely to either. He didn't suppose.
Speaker 1: He knew that he would probably be uncomfortable for a
Speaker 1: few days, but it would pass. It didn't make a
Speaker 1: lot of sense to him to worry about what was
Speaker 1: going to happen. What made sense was getting the rest
Speaker 1: of his potatoes planted. While he still felt reasonably well,
Speaker 1: and then go and fill his canteens to the brim
Speaker 1: with fresh water. Actually, he would need to fill them
Speaker 1: a couple of times. He needed to water his plantings
Speaker 1: before he went and put himself to bed. And maybe
Speaker 1: with enough warm rest he could beat the most of
Speaker 1: the sickness before it started. That was his hope. Anyway,
Speaker 1: He drank two large mouthfuls of fresh water after adding
Speaker 1: cold to the fire. The additional heat was near, immediate
Speaker 1: and satisfying. And wrapped in his furs, he closed his
Speaker 1: eyes and tried to remember if his mother had always
Speaker 1: said starve a cold and feet of fever, or feed
Speaker 1: of cold and starve a fever. He couldn't recall which
Speaker 1: way that pearl of wisdom had gone. Either way, he
Speaker 1: wanted nothing to eat. Earlier, before he had gone outside,
Speaker 1: he had cut himself an ice sized piece of meat
Speaker 1: that he had roasted a few days prior. He managed
Speaker 1: to swallow one mouthful, but threw the rest away. It
Speaker 1: had tasted of iron or copper. He had thought that
Speaker 1: his meat had gone bad, but now he knew that
Speaker 1: it was the way everything tasted when you have a cold.
Speaker 1: Remembering that taste had been enough whichever way the old
Speaker 1: saying went, he wasn't eating anything else for a while.
Speaker 1: Just before he closed his eyes, he reminded himself that
Speaker 1: while he still felt like it, he should break off
Speaker 1: a few days supply of coal so that he would
Speaker 1: have it when he really was feeling poorly. He told
Speaker 1: himself that he would do it as soon as he
Speaker 1: awoke from the short nap that he was going to take.
Speaker 1: And Reuben fell asleep and did not wake again for
Speaker 1: nearly seven hours. Years in this place had taught him
Speaker 1: to avoid making idiotic mistakes. Taking that nap before all
Speaker 1: was done that needed to be done had been a
Speaker 1: huge one. It felt like morning, but through the hole
Speaker 1: that served as an entrance, he could see that the
Speaker 1: sun was nearly set. The fire was low, too low.
Speaker 1: He had slept too long, and now the payment was
Speaker 1: due for his indulgence. He swung his legs over the
Speaker 1: side of what he called his bed and then sat there,
Speaker 1: hugging himself with one arm while he used his free
Speaker 1: hand to rub vigorously at his knees, which were throbbing.
Speaker 1: And he coughed, and it hurt down deep in his
Speaker 1: chest and in his back, and he wanted to have
Speaker 1: coughed something up so that he could spew it from
Speaker 1: his mouth. He believed that he would feel better if
Speaker 1: something were pulled from inside him and thrown away, but
Speaker 1: nothing came up. His knees and elbows hurt like the
Speaker 1: joints had rusted solid, and each movement to break them
Speaker 1: free caused them to scream in horror and act. He
Speaker 1: never stood up, at least not completely in a crouds
Speaker 1: the way he had seen some elderly men walk. He
Speaker 1: made his way to the fire ring and slowly added
Speaker 1: a few fist sized nuggets of coal to the small fire.
Speaker 1: The pieces he added were dribs and drafts that he
Speaker 1: had dropped over time. There was no supply ready at
Speaker 1: hand to draw from. Coal was everywhere, and it dawned
Speaker 1: on him that he had none to burn. The chills
Speaker 1: came upon him as he watched the flames grow and intensify.
Speaker 1: He should have given thought to later that night or tomorrow,
Speaker 1: but instead he shuffled back to his bed and pulled
Speaker 1: all the skin blankets that he had made from it
Speaker 1: and wrapped himself in them in cocoon form. He lowered
Speaker 1: himself to the ground and laid by his fire. Even
Speaker 1: with the makeshift blanket pulled tightly around him, he worked
Speaker 1: until his knees were nearly to his chest. He had
Speaker 1: no idea of curling him so into a knot what
Speaker 1: helped retain body heat, but it was what he felt
Speaker 1: like he needed to do. He coughed and did not
Speaker 1: cover his mouth, as he had been talked to do,
Speaker 1: and he did not care. His hands were too busy
Speaker 1: holding the skins closed tightly around his body. Somehow, amidst
Speaker 1: the shivering and coughing, he began to drift off into sleep.
Speaker 1: He could feel the fire against his face, but it
Speaker 1: didn't seem to be providing any heat. He felt it,
Speaker 1: but he could not feel it. The fire burned brightly
Speaker 1: as he fell deeper and deeper into the black, but
Speaker 1: the fire diminished with each passing minute. When he awoke,
Speaker 1: he felt miserable, still, even more so than he had
Speaker 1: when the tooth had acted up. Now he felt no
Speaker 1: heat upon his skin trying to worm its way in,
Speaker 1: only cold in his bones working its way out. He
Speaker 1: opened his eyes and concentrated on clearing his vision so
Speaker 1: that he could acknowledge what he might see. The flickers
Speaker 1: now and then of orange and red in the depths
Speaker 1: of the fire. Ring could be spotted, but there were
Speaker 1: no flames. The fire was all but gone now, and
Speaker 1: he wondered if it might not be easier to just
Speaker 1: go back to sleep and allow the life within him
Speaker 1: to go out as the fire was going to He
Speaker 1: lay there and tried to will himself back to sleep.
Speaker 1: But the more he tried, the more the try and
Speaker 1: kept him alert to what he was attempting. A shout
Speaker 1: that hurt his mind echoed within his head, and over
Speaker 1: and over it yelled at him and would not be
Speaker 1: quieted until it had been accepted. You dishonored your father
Speaker 1: and your family's name by giving up and running away.
Speaker 1: You will not do it a second time by running
Speaker 1: from life. Each in every move instigated sharp and prickly
Speaker 1: cold shivers to run the length of his body. The
Speaker 1: more he moved, the colder he became. But he moved
Speaker 1: and continued to until he was standing, and he wavered,
Speaker 1: but he did not fall. He tried to take a
Speaker 1: deep breath, but it only induced a series of coughing
Speaker 1: spells that made him bend at the waist and grip
Speaker 1: at his knees until it had subsided. Breathing shallow now,
Speaker 1: he slid his feet along the dirt floor until he
Speaker 1: stood and stared down at the rifle barrel that he
Speaker 1: used as a miner would use a pick axe. He
Speaker 1: knew it well. He knew how heavy it was, knew
Speaker 1: it would feel many times heavier in his current condition,
Speaker 1: and he knew it would be ungodly cold. In his hands,
Speaker 1: he swung the length of steel with the same precision
Speaker 1: and strength that a tot might swing one of his
Speaker 1: father's tools. At first, it seemed as if he would
Speaker 1: be ineffective. The steel seemed to merely bounce off the wall.
Speaker 1: But though his vision was blurred and the racking cough
Speaker 1: came continually to suddenly halt his work, he kept swinging,
Speaker 1: with his nose running freely and sometimes weeping from the
Speaker 1: shuddering pain in his joints and the lack of progress
Speaker 1: he thought himself to be making. He kept swinging, and
Speaker 1: then the steel barrel simply fell from his hands, and
Speaker 1: he was only too aware that he could not grasp
Speaker 1: or lift it again. There was no such thing as
Speaker 1: bending over to grab the fragments of coal that he
Speaker 1: had chipped from the wall, And then tossing them over
Speaker 1: near the fire. He was too exhausted and too light
Speaker 1: headed to bend, was to fall, and there was no
Speaker 1: strength for lifting and tossing. Lacking grace, he fell to
Speaker 1: the dirt floor and began to collect all that he
Speaker 1: managed to loosen from the wall. Slowly he gathered the
Speaker 1: pieces into a pile, always aware that the fire was
Speaker 1: dying just as surely as he felt like he was.
Speaker 1: He tried to hurry, but it did not seem possible
Speaker 1: to go any faster. Crawling and worming his way across
Speaker 1: the dirt, Reuben laid hard fought coal upon what remained
Speaker 1: of his fire, and sat there on his knees, watching
Speaker 1: the flames as they began to grow. He held his
Speaker 1: trembling hands near to them and felt the heat, and
Speaker 1: his back shivered from chills, but his hands were warm.
Speaker 1: He wanted to sleep, but he would not until he
Speaker 1: had finished his work. He had done differently earlier, and
Speaker 1: it had nearly been his undoing. He crawled back and
Speaker 1: forth from the wall to the fire ring, bringing pieces
Speaker 1: of coal with him each time, and when finished he
Speaker 1: was amazed and gladdened by the size of the pile.
Speaker 1: His efforts had produced. He would have never thought that
Speaker 1: he had produced as much as he had. And he
Speaker 1: wrapped himself once more in his blanket of first and
Speaker 1: positioned himself so that the pile of coal could be
Speaker 1: reached without getting up. He wanted to drink of water,
Speaker 1: and knew that he should drink some just for the
Speaker 1: health benefits, but he wanted to sleep even more. The
Speaker 1: chills were still there, but now they weren't so violent
Speaker 1: as they had been, and the cough still gripped him
Speaker 1: suddenly and out of nowhere, but it had begun producing
Speaker 1: mouthfuls of slimy, thick substances that he gladly spat to
Speaker 1: the floor. The furs were soft and tender when he
Speaker 1: rubbed his running nose with them, much softer than a
Speaker 1: shirt sleeve. The blanket, made of pelts and hides, was
Speaker 1: catching the heat of the fire and retaining it. He
Speaker 1: closed his eyes and breathed evenly and slowly, and then
Speaker 1: he knew nothing else.