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Keep on digging Sam. There may be some gold down there!
Sam sat shifting his weight on the rough-hewn planks. Any
sign of splinters had been worn away years ago. Even knowing that, he still
moved his rotund rear end with caution. He had helped his father build this
outhouse years ago, but could not remember just when. It was pretty close to
falling down. There was a long list of things that Sam wanted to do before he
died. One of them was to take a crap in the house with real plumbing that
flushed.
The last rays of the evening sun passed through the cracks
of the walls and put bright streaks of light across the newspaper page. Sam
adjusted his glasses on his nose. It was more like catching them before they
fell to the floor. An ever so slight stinging sensation came from his bare right
thigh and he instinctively slapped at the irritation. He looked down to see the
tiny piece of wire that substituted for the missing metal snap on the strap to
his overalls was scratching his leg when he moved. "I gotta get Beth to fix
that," he thought.
Sam talked out loud, "Damn! Lord forgive me, made it in the paper twice in one week!
That outta be some kinda record."
Sam talked to himself a lot. His grandfather always told him it was all right to talk to
yourself sometimes, because it was just good to
talk to somebody with some sense for a change.
Sam's old Jersey cow had given birth to triplets earlier in the week, and he got a mention
in the Tuesday news. The fact that two of them died an
hour later did not get mentioned because old Charlie had already left.
Sam was really surprised that that old newsman could remember half the things he
was told long enough to get back to the office to type them up. In the twenty
some odd years he had known the man he had never seen him take notes about
anything.
Sam laid the paper aside and picked up the big Sears
"Dream Book" catalog from beside his seat. He tore out a few pages,
crumpled them up, paused for a moment, and then started thumbing through the
book.
He found the right pictures and read out loud, "Acme Wood-Wheel Windmill, It is made of the very best material possible to be
obtained, and put together in such a manner as to combine both strength and
durability." These Sears-Roebuck guys had a way with words. "A
reliable mill, at a fair price, is what the purchaser wants.
No. 86349 Price for this mill complete, with ten foot wheel.........................$23.00."
"Where the hell, Lord forgive me, am I gonna get
twenty-three dollars?" The door creaked, "Ho!" Sam hollered with
surprise.
"Daddy I need to go." came a sweet little voice from outside.
"OK hon, I'll be out in a minute."
She really needed to go potty, but she also knew that her
daddy took his time when he was in the outhouse. She picked up a few pebbles and
began tossing them at a nearby tree. She had a good arm and every time she threw
a rock her cotton dress billowed in her turn. Her long blonde hair swirled
around her tiny shoulders. Sarah Elizabeth Jacobs was a lively six-year-old who
played fast, slept deep and worked hard when she was supposed to. Right now her
thin frame moved along with a slight limp. She had not been able to wear shoes
in over a month. She was still a little weak having just gotten over a bout with
a serious infection.
While playing in the dooryard one day she stepped on a bone. It pierced her foot ever so slightly and did not cause any
great flow of blood. The wound was in the center of her instep and there was no swelling or
soreness. She did not mention it to her mother because she did not care much for
the first aid. Her mother would dip her foot in a pan of coal oil. She just
hated the smell of coal oil. A few days later she was in bed with a high fever
and her tongue and lips began to swell. She was soon covered with large sores.
She became almost deaf.
nbsp; Young doctor Cannon was summoned. He raised Sam’s
suspicions immediately when he began mixing stuff in a bowl that Sam ate his
morning porridge from. Not only that, this doctor of at least twenty-five years
of age seemed to talk to himself too much.
"Let’s see, for disinfectant you mix one drachm of carbolic acid in one pint of water. OK, got that."
He even squinted while looking at a very thick book he had taken from his little black bag. He had lined the counter
with small bottles, tin cans and little flat jars that were colored green, brown and a real
sick-looking yellow. He kept right on whispering to himself even though Sam and
Beth were standing right behind him.
"Fevers, fevers, ah yes, here it is, Fever Mixtures,
one-drachm potassium citrate, one-drachm sweet spirits nitre, five syrup of
lemon." He stopped and looked around.
"Mrs. Jacobs, do you have some corn syrup handy?"
Beth quickly moved forward. "We don’t have any corn
syrup. Will sugar syrup do?"
Doc Cannon poured the syrup into the mixture. He began talking to himself once more.
"Now we have two ounces liquor ammonium acetate and that’ll do it."
He mixed it all up with a wooden spoon. He told Beth to give Sarah a teaspoon every two hours and to send one of the
boys to fetch him if things got worse or send word if things got better. Things did get better.
"Hon, don’t stray far. It’ll be dark soon."
Sam put down his catalog and made ready with the crumpled wad of pages.
Sarah moved slowly down the path away from the outhouse
and toward the creek bed. She had found a great chunking stone, which she would
toss and then walk down the path to retrieve. The third toss disappeared down
the hole. She had watched her dad dig a number of holes in this dry creek bed
but this one was the deepest. She stopped and squatted at the edge. Her shoes
really hurt and she sat down and began to untie the offending right one. She
removed the shoe and wiggled her toes. That felt so good that she decided to
remove the other one. She grabbed the heel and was tugging mightily when her
hand slipped off causing her to lose her balance. The shoe went one direction
and Sarah tumbled into the hole. Her shoes followed along behind. About three
flips and a roll dumped her unceremoniously at the bottom. She was too
frightened to holler right away. She could only think about the mud that covered
her only nice dress. It was just a year old and the best piece of clothing she
had. Her mother would be really upset. She stood up in the hole and tried to
dust the mud off. It would not wipe and only after a short period of time had
passed did she realize what had happened. She looked up and saw the darkness
beginning to cover the hole.
"Daddy!" She screamed. No answer. "Daddeeeeeee!"
Again nothing.
Sam had finished his reading, dreaming, wiping and wiring up his overalls. He had already headed for the house.
He did not hear Sarah’s cries. He stepped up on the long front porch and was
headed for his rocker. He pulled out his tobacco pouch as he walked. It was time
for an after dinner smoke. It was already Sarah’s bedtime and as far as he knew
she had gone in and Beth had snuggled her into bed.
The kids all slept in a loft just above the feed shed that
ran the length of the back of the house. Sam thought about what he was going to
do when the kids got older and Sarah did not want to sleep in the same place
with three rowdy boys. The steps up to the sleeping quarters were starting to
squeak and shook a little when Joseph ran up them. He was the next-to-the-oldest
but he outweighed them all by about fifty pounds. Those stairs were going to
break soon. Sam added that to his always-growing list of never ending things to
do. The list Beth had for him was even longer but she didn’t bother him with
it much.
This evening Beth was doing the same thing she did every
evening while school was on. The kid’s clothes had to be washed and ironed.
They didn’t have many clothes and Beth was secretly ashamed of that fact. She
was determined that the clothes they did have would be as crisp and clean as
they could possibly be. Every evening before dark she would heat gallons of
water and keep a big old Sears number 10 washtub full of lye soapy water. The
clothes would float in the suds until all of them were soaked clean. She would
iron one piece while the others were hanging in the Texas breeze to dry. She
always finished just about bedtime.
She heard Sam on the porch as he sat down in his old
rocking chair. He sighed and the chair squeaked. Sarah usually went to bed
first, not because she was the youngest, but because she always liked to get a
good night’s sleep. She wanted to be awake, bright and cheery for the next day
at school. She loved school more than anything in the world. It was really
torture for her to have to stay home all that time with the infection. Her
second love was to read and there was a constant supply of library books in the
house. It was never difficult to know what Sarah thought about any given subject
because she wrote most of it down. The boys and Sam cared little for the written
word. Sam would read the front page of the newspaper only when he had journeyed
to town for business and picked one up on the park bench in front of the
courthouse. His writing was confined to being able to sign his name correctly.
Sam pursed his lips and spit. Beth stepped through the
door. "Where’s Sarah?" she asked.
"I thought she was already in bed. Maybe you didn’t
see her come in." Sam leaned his short chubby body forward in the chair and
it groaned in protest.
"Well she would have come to the kitchen first."
Beth turned and started for the stairs. As she started up the steps she held on
to the posts because she knew that the next thing to fall down in this house was
this stairwell.
Beth saw the three boys’ beds against one wall only a
couple of feet from where the slant of the roof met the floor. Joseph was
hanging off his bed in all directions. He was only nine years old but he was a
big kid. Next was Jeremy. At almost eight years old he was not much bigger than
Amy. He was built a lot like Beth and she was a petite woman. The last bed held
Sam junior. He had just turned thirteen and was the heartthrob of the county.
His friends were amazed at how he could just come into sight and every girl in
the area would stop and stare. He was flat on his back, mouth open and snoring
very loud. His body rippled with muscles that were developed by a lot of tossing
hay and rigging horses.
Sarah’s bed was on the far end and had been sectioned
off by an old bookcase and a large cedar chest. Beth knew, even before she got
halfway up the steps, that Sarah was not there. Her bed was still neatly made.
Sarah took great pride in making her own bed.
"Sam! Sarah’s not up here!" Beth hollered.
"Wha?" Jeremy sat up. Sam junior snored on and
Joseph didn’t move.
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Sarah suddenly remembered why she had walked down the path
in the first place. She now needed to go to the bathroom real bad. She forgot
that she was trapped in a hole and only looked around to make sure that nobody
could see her. The cotton dress came up, the frilly white bloomers came down,
and she attended to necessary business. After the wave of relief, reality came
creeping back and she welled up inside for some good solid screaming.
"Mommy! Daddy! Help!" The long bout with the
infection had affected more than her foot. That one blast felt as if she had
stretched her vocal cords to the breaking point, when in fact she yelled only a
few decibels above a loud call for the dog. Her next attempt was only a quiet
screech.
Darkness had moved in and all but closed the hole. As if
things were not bad enough, there was a brief light that was caused by a
lightening flash. Sarah was terrified of lightening. She had listened to stories
told around a quilting frame late in the evening by the townswomen. She knew
that lightening blasted people out of their shoes, fried the inside without even
sun burning the outside, and could jump completely across a river from one tree
to another. Sarah was a strong little girl but the tears had started to well up
to almost the overflow point. She knew she must climb so she put her shoes back
on. She put her hands against the dirt sides of the hole and began to step and
scratch at the same time, hoping for some traction or a hold of any kind. The
dirt just crumbled and fell to the bedrock floor. She clawed and kicked faster
and faster. The mound of loose dirt began to build up under her feet. For a
brief moment her little mind considered the possibility of building such a mound
so high that she could just step out of the hole. That thought fell through when
suddenly the wall of dirt collapsed away opening another hole. Sarah fell face
forward through the opening. The dirt that had become a slight overhang came
crashing down and refilled the space. Sarah fell onto a solid rock hill and she
began to tumble down. First a somersault and the she fell on her side and began
to roll. Although it seemed to last forever she only rolled a few feet and was
stopped by a rock ledge. Her head was first to arrive and she was knocked out.
It was dark on the way down and now it was even darker.
"Sarah!" Sam yelled as he began to circle the
house. There was a summer storm approaching and the rain would begin soon. Sam
knew how storms frightened Sarah. He yelled even louder. "Sarah hon! Where
are you?"
Beth rounded the corner and met Sam. "Get the boys up
and give’em the lamps. I’ll take the big light and go back down toward the
outhouse," Sam said as he jumped up on the porch and disappeared into the
feed shed. He was back in a flash swinging a lighted oil lamp. He started
quickly down the path.
Sam was yelling, mumbling and stumbling as he hurried down
the dark path toward the outhouse. "Sarah! Sarah hon! Where are you? Can’t
see a damn thing out here, forgive me lord." Sam stayed on the path all the
way to the creek bed. "Up or down? Damnit! Forgive me Lord. Can’t see a
thing!" He mumbled and decided to go up creek toward his diggings. He
stopped at the well hole and dangled the lamp as far in as he could. He could
see the bottom in the dim light. Nothing.
He did not see the fresh pile of dirt clods that had
formed against one side of the hole. "I gotta get some help." Sam was
getting short winded and his eyes were started to tear. He tried not to think of
what might be happening to his little girl right at that moment. |
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Dawn broke cold over the short grass pasture that flowed
up to the edge of the stand of post oaks lining the creek bed. The dim light did
not and could not penetrate six feet of solid bedrock. "I’m cold! Ouch!
My head! Momma’s gonna be mad ‘cause I got my dress wet," she thought
and then opened her eyes. It was black. She blinked and blinked and then blinked
again. "I can’t see! I’m blind! Momma! Daddy!"
Sarah began to whimper and then turned to loud sobs. She
could feel cold water on her legs and shifted her position to what felt like a
small ledge on the rock. Her legs were out of the water. She blinked some more,
rubbed her eyes, and cried. She stopped suddenly and sat up. Her muscles were
sore from lying in one position all night. "What would Sammy do?" She
thought out loud, and the cave held her sounds and bounced them back at her as
if she were sitting in a barrel.
Sarah really loved her big brother. Sometimes the girls in
town would ask her questions about him. They’d ask dumb things about what he
wore when he slept, and where he took a bath. She had always looked up to Sam
Jr. because he always seemed to have the answers to all the questions. She just
loved to ask him questions.
She began groping along the walls and ledge with her
fingers. She was against a solid rock wall on one side, and there was standing
water on the other. She found some small rocks near the water. She tossed them
one at a time in three directions. There was nothing to her right, another wall
to her left, and yet another wall a few feet in front of her. The last stone she
threw straight up and it hit a ceiling then fell and splashed in the water.
"Sammy wouldn’t cry. He would move!" She began to stand up along the
wall. Her hand was raised so as not to bump her head on the top. She bent
forward to her right, touched the wall to her left, and began to shuffle forward
using her extended fingers as guides. She moved along with her eyes closed. It
was cold. She was cold. Her fingers and feet were numb. Her head ached. The
thought of blindness would make her start crying all over again so she just
tried to think of getting out. She was suddenly very thirsty. She bent forward
in the darkness and cupped a handful of water. It was cold. It had a funny smell
and tasted almost like chicken broth. The water made her feel warm. She cupped
another handful. The pain in her head just stopped. She felt much better. |
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"Sammy!" Sam hollered from the front porch of
the house. "I’m over here Daddy!" Sam Jr. answered from the darkness
behind the tree line. His lamp bobbed up and down as he walked toward the house.
He wore jeans and no shirt or shoes. He was taller than Sam Sr. His young
muscles rippled as he moved. Beth kept all the boys hair cut short so as not to
draw a case of head lice but Sammy was allowed to keep his a bit longer. He was
always brushing his bangs out of his eyes. That little action had caused many a
girlish swoon. He could chase and catch anybody who lived within twenty miles of
home. He could beat up anybody he knew. He never really had to show off. The
other boys left him alone. Besides, everybody wanted to be his friend,
especially the girls.
"Go fetch the Johnsons. Tell’em ‘bout Sarah. Ask
Cole to bring Blue with him. Bridle Thunder. He’s the quickest."
Blue was a good dog. He could find Sarah. Sammy opened his
mouth to protest and suggest that Joseph go for the help. He stopped to think
about the one-mile round-trip it would take to get the Johnsons. It would take
time to find Joe and even more time to get him on his pony. Joe was too little
to ride big Thunder and that dog would surely find his sister. Sammy turned down
the wick on his lamp and set it on the porch. The moon was full moon; the storm
clouds had disappeared almost as quickly as they had formed. The night was now
cloudless and he could see the road without any trouble. Besides, the lamp would
spook Thunder. That horse did not like to see any kind of light when it was
supposed to be dark. Sammy eased his long legs into an easy trot and headed down
the dirt road toward the barn. He thought of his little sister and his trot
turned to a full sprint.
Thunder was in a small corral attached to one side of the
barn. Sam Jr. vaulted the fence, grabbed the bridle off a post and had it on the
big mare in a matter of seconds. He mounted, kicked the gate latch with a foot,
and then let the horse know he was in a big hurry.
The hours passed and the family members returned to get
more oil for their lamps. They were all hoarse from hollering. Beth and Jeremy
would not go back out because the little boy had a bad cough and he was
miserable. Beth decided to stay close to the house in case Sarah wandered back
on her own. Beth could only think about the black bear sighting just last month.
It was cub time and the bears were always dangerous when their cubs were young.
If that wasn’t bothersome enough, it had been only a week since two of Cole
Johnson’s sheep were found half eaten only a few yards from the house. The
site of the kill was surrounded with the tracks of a mountain lion. Beth bit her
knuckles just thinking that her little Sarah had gotten in the way of a hunting
animal.
Sam Jr. returned and reined up Thunder in the front of the
house. "Mr. Johnson said he’d be here as soon as he could get his boys
awake. He said Blue would be a little slow ‘cause he got sprayed by a skunk
last night and one of his eyes wasn’t workin’!"
Beth was sitting in Sam Sr.’s chair on the porch.
"Sammy come on in and get a drink. You ought to rest for a little
while."
"I can do that later momma. Where’s my lamp?" |
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Sarah knew she had not gone blind. Or, at least her sight
was coming back. She could make out the sides of the cave. She had been walking
for a long time and she was not freezing any more. Actually she was feeling
better every minute. She stopped every now and again to take a drink of water.
The water at this point lost its broth flavor. It began to taste more like Daddy’s
well water, only better. The darkness that had scared her so much was starting
to feel different. There was now a mysterious feeling of security. The pebbles
along the rock floor made walking difficult and Sarah could feel the stones
through the thin soles of her shoes. She sat down in a dry place and removed her
shoes one at a time to rub her feet. She felt she had come a long way. The
throbbing pain in her head had completely gone away. The panic and fear had
lessened and she realized she was very tired. Her back touched the cold
stonewall. She let her head lean back against the rock.
"Sammy will find me. Sammy will just keep on lookin’
and he’ll find me," Sarah was talking louder. She always said her prayers
at bedtime when she pretty well ‘God-blessed’ everyone she knew. Right now
she felt that a more powerful prayer was needed. She began, "Our Father who
art in heaven. Hallowed be thy name," Sarah was asleep before she got to
the amen.
The misty, almost dawn, light brought a creaky old wagon
lumbering up the road toward the house. Mrs. Johnson held the reins. She looked
cold and stiff and stared straight ahead. Sam had always wanted to ask Stella if
she slept in that cotton bonnet because he had never seen her without it. She
had come to do whatever she could do to help. Cole Johnson and two big farm boys
all mounted on gigantic draft horses, loped slowly behind the wagon. And,
wandering in and out of the big horse’s feet, one smelly dog. They stopped in
the yard by Sam Jacobs’ front porch. Sam had just returned from his last foray
that covered the same area he had covered twice before. He had been shoving
aside bush after bush, picking up brush piles, and crawling into holes. He
looked as if a bobcat had mauled him. Beth sat on the porch with Joseph asleep,
leaning against her leg. There was a short meeting to discuss a plan. Sam Jr.
appeared on the road and was favoring his left foot. He waved at the group and
began moving a little faster.
Sammy had stepped on a mesquite thorn out in the brush and
it broke off in his foot. Beth made him sit on the porch and hold a lamp while
she dug around in his foot with a big quilting needle. This had happened to
everybody in the family at least once and Beth fancied herself as the best
surgeon in the county. She had the thorn out in a matter of minutes.
Sam wanted to stay with the dog and Cole Johnson was the
only human that Blue took instructions from. They formed the team that would
cover the creek bed. Sam Jr. wrapped his foot, stuffed it in his boot and set
out to cover a new direction. Cole’s boys would stay mounted and circle the
area on the farm road and pasture paths. They would travel one hour out, return
with reports, choose another route, and then try again. Beth just sat and
worried. |