I was laying in the dark, exhausted, for a good long time. But I couldn’t fall asleep. I don’t know how any of us got any sleep in that ruckus—snoring, sneezing, coughing, wheezing. When one of them got started this would provoke someone else to join in. Soon we had a full chorus going. After a while the clamor would die down and we’d have a quiet moment. One little snort and the whole thing started again. The
commotion put me in mind of a crowded railway station. All we needed were the whistles.
All the time I was waiting for Mose to make his move, I kept the Lord’s Prayer running in my mind, just like Auntie Bee taught me. Outside the cabin, the night was teeming with scary sounds. It could be those pattyrollers laying in wait for anyone foolish enough to go out. Wild animals joined our little choir, raccoons sniffing, woodchucks scratching, a fox scrambling after a mouse, a whole pack of them out there, devouring some rotten bacon we threw in the bushes. Mountain lions were there too. I heard them howling.
I dozed off a couple of times but I didn’t miss him. At first, I didn’t hear him, he was so quiet. I felt a rush of air on my face and opened my eyes. A dark figure was at the door, pulling it open ever so slowly and without a sound. I watched him stepping into the night with his shoes in his hand. He closed the door in total silence.
This time I jumped up, grabbed my shoes and carried them like Mose did. I went to the door on tippytoes, and pulled it gently. Don’t you know that gosh darn door started squeaking. It wasn’t a low squeak either. That
door was singing to beat the band. I don’t know why. I thought Mose oiled it. He opened the door not a minute before and you didn’t hear a peep.
I wanted to call to him, “Hey, Mose! The door needs more oil!” But I had to keep quiet. I was extra careful closing the door so it wasn’t too loud. It didn’t seem like anybody was disturbed. At least, I hope not. In all that hullabaloo, a screechy old door would fit right in with the night’s entertainment.
Now I was outside and I couldn’t see a thing. Quickly, I slipped on my boots. I didn’t want to lose track of him. I heard footsteps moving into the woods.
I thought, ‘Why is he going into the woods?’ There was nothing there but the side of a mountain. I’ve been up that way and I knew it was a hard climb, probably a good half-mile to the top.
If he was really planning to escape this would not be a very good place to start. The route led nowhere but up. When you reached the top you had two choices—either you jump off the edge or you come back down. Nothing else you can do.
I followed him into the woods. Under a sliver of moon, I could barely see outlines of trees dancing in front of me. Luckily I didn’t bump into anything. I kept following the sound of his footsteps, keeping enough of a distance away so if he heard me, he might think I was an animal.
We were in the woods about a half hour, climbing uphill all the time. Suddenly, out of the blackness, a bright light appeared. I thought it was a fire.
As I got closer I could hear a sharp banging, metal on metal. I stopped, not wanting to push too close. Then, I saw him through the trees. It was Mose all right. He was standing inside a little shelter he made for himself out of brush and branches. There was a bad smell up there, something like rotting eggs.
Inside his shelter it was bright as day—but I didn’t see any fire. The light seemed to be coming from a glass jar hanging on a tree limb. The jar was blinding white, brilliant as a bonfire. I could not understand how such a powerful light could come from that jar.
Mose was working on what looked like a small tub. He was handling a blow torch, sparks flying with a strong hissing sound, like one I’d seen him use in his blacksmith shop.
He was fixing something all right. I guessed it was some kind of wagon or cart. I didn’t know what good a wagon would do for him. There isn’t a horse in the world that could make it up there.
The hissing and sparks went on for about an hour. The sun would be up soon but I figured Mose would know the right time to leave. He never missed the morning horn.
I admit I was getting scared. The longer we waited, the sooner morning would come. I felt like I should head back on my own but I figured I should wait for Mose. He acted like he knew what he was doing.
He turned off his welding torch and the hissing stopped. Then he pushed the tub and his blowtorch under a pile of brush. The last thing he did was reach for the lamp and everything went black.
Next thing I knew I could hear him heading down the mountain in the dark. I followed after him, keeping my distance.
Then it hit me. If I trailed him down the mountain he would certainly get to the cabin first. And when I happened to show up just after him, he will know why.
I had to get there before he did. I lit down the mountain like a wild rabbit, crashing into trees, tripping over rocks, pushing away the sharp branches snapping back at my face.
The light of dawn was peeking through the trees. I had a few minutes before night would be over. I knew I was faster than he was and I could beat him down easy.
When I got to the clearing at the edge of the woods I had no idea where Mose was. I figured he was somewhere behind me but I didn’t take any chances. I made a mad dash across the field.
When I got to the cabin door I was winded. Light from the east told me morning was almost here. Time was short. Soon, the horn would blast us all out of bed. I kicked off my boots and opened the door slowly, carefully.
Dad blame it! That old door started squealing on me. Only, I didn’t care if I woke anyone. We all had to get up soon anyway.
I plopped down in my straw bed. Mose wasn’t there yet. I listened for his footsteps outside but I didn’t hear him coming. What if he was still up on the mountain? What if he was hurt? What if the pattyrollers caught him?
I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew, Auntie Bee was shaking me awake and hollering in my ear to get up. That devil horn went off and I slept through it. When I lifted my head, there was Mose, lying on his bed, peaceful as a baby. For all anybody knew, he could have been in dreamland all night long.
Posted By: Richard Kigel
Saturday, May 22nd 2010 at 8:30PM
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