Hoggee (14 page)

“What are you doing?” Laura asked.

“I've got a book…” Howard said, but Jack pulled at Laura's arm.

“Come on,” he said.

“I'll tell you later,” Howard managed to say before anyone moved.

“Let's go to the other side of the courthouse,” said Bert. “I heard someone say the pie-eating contest is going on over there.”

“Good,” said Jack. “I want to see Buck.”

When they rounded the corner of the building, they saw a long table filled with pies. Four men sat at a smaller table. Whole pies set in front of them. Their heads were bent over the pies, and they shoveled pie into their mouths with good-sized spoons.

“There's Buck,” Jack told Laura, and he pointed to the man at the end of the table. Three empty pie plates were stacked in front of him, and he worked on his fourth pie.

Howard counted the pie plates in front of the other men. “That first man is ahead of Buck,” he said, “but just by half a pie.”

Buck spooned in pie and swallowed it quickly. He had a big Adam's apple in his neck, and Howard watched the knot move up and down at an amazing
speed. For a time, though, Buck could not close the gap between him and the big man who led. Finally, Howard noticed that the big man's pace seemed to slow slightly.

Jack noticed, too. “Watch,” he whispered to the group. “He's slowing down. Buck will catch him.” Finally, the big man put down his spoon, clapped his hand over his mouth, and ran.

“He's going to vomit,” yelled Gracie. “Let's go watch.” She started to move, but Laura grabbed her hand.

“Gracie,” Laura said, “don't you dare take a step to watch someone be sick at his stomach.” Gracie frowned and turned back.

They stayed and cheered when Buck was declared the winner. When he was given the prize coin, Howard again made the money sign. Sarah nodded her head and did the same.

Next, they moved on to the sling contest. “Come one, come all users of the mighty sling,” called the man in charge.

“I'm getting in on this one,” Jack said, and he stepped forward. Two others already stood ready to try the sling.

“Anyone else?” called the man. “Anyone else want to try his hand?”

“Why don't you try, Howard?” said Laura, but he shook his head.

No one else stepped forward. “You will shoot in order of volunteering,” said the announcer. He pointed to each contestant. “One, two, three.”

Howard noticed Jack pull himself up to stand tall, but the young man beside him was still taller. Both of
them watched as a short middle-aged man took the loaded sling and walked a few steps, twirling it above his head.

A target had been drawn on a large piece of board that stood on a stand a few feet away. The crowd grew quiet as the man walked. Then the rock was flying through the air. It struck the circle, but not close to the bull's-eye.

“Good show!” called the announcer. The man seemed pleased with his achievement, but Howard shook his head. “Jack can beat that by a wide berth,” he told his friends.

While the tall young man got ready to shoot, Sarah made the money sign, and she looked at Howard with a questioning expression. “Yes,” he said, nodding his head and rubbing his thumb across his fingers.

“What are you doing?” Laura asked.

“I've just told Sarah that the winner will get money.” Howard smiled, more pleased with himself than he had ever been. “A lady on the boat gave me a book. It tells all about this sign language for deaf people.”

Laura's eyes grew large. “You have such a book? You have it still?”

“Yes, at the barn in my haversack.”

Laura clasped her hands and drew them up under her chin. “Oh, Howard, oh.”

“We can teach Sarah.” Howard bit at his lip. Why had he not said, “You can teach Sarah”? He worried that Laura could not read well enough. Besides, he had studied all those days. He wanted desperately to be in on the teaching. But how could he?

“When can I see the book?”

Bert moved closer to them. “The other fellow just missed,” he said. “Jack's up now.”

Howard turned his gaze to the contest. Jack was winding up. “He'll win for sure,” Howard said, but his mind was not on the event, and he felt certain Laura's wasn't, either.

Jack's rock hit the bull's-eye, and the crowd cheered. Jack held up his half-dollar. Sarah made the money sign. Howard nodded, and Laura laughed out loud.

“Let's go spend this money on apple cider for us all,” said Jack when he was back with the group and had been thoroughly congratulated.

“No time for cider right now,” said Bert. “I just heard a fellow say Amazing Alex is getting ready to make his walk.”

“We'd better hurry,” said Jack. “I want to get a good spot so we can see.” He turned to move, but Howard reached out to stop him.

“I might not watch,” said Howard. “Laura, maybe we could go back to the barn and look at the book.”

Laura smiled and seemed ready to go with Howard, but Jack took her hand. “Not watch Amazing Alex? That's ridiculous. Laura wants to see Alex, don't you, Laura?” Jack did not wait for an answer, and Laura let herself be led away.

With a sigh Howard followed. There was no use to go against Jack, not ever. The canal banks were already crowded when they reached them. Standing behind people, they twisted to look between bodies to see. Amazing Alex stood on one of his platforms. He wore a tight red uniform with shiny silver spangles sewn to it. A very small man, dressed all in black, stood beside
Alex. The little man held a funnel-shaped horn. Every few minutes he put the horn to his mouth and shouted through it, “See the Amazing Alex in a death-defying walk across the great Erie Canal.”

“Let's go up on the bridge,” said Jack. “We can see better.”

Other people had the same idea, and the group had barely found a spot on the bridge before it became very crowded. They pressed shoulder to shoulder with a row of people behind them. A man shoved his head between Sarah and Howard. Sarah began to squirm, and her face twisted with discomfort.

“Sarah's pretty miserable here,” Howard told the group. He tried to hold her hand, but she broke away and began to push through the crowd. “I'm going with her,” Howard called, and he followed the girl off the bridge.

On the canal bank, Sarah pointed toward home. Howard shook his head. Now he did want to see if Amazing Alex could really walk that wire. He took Sarah's hand and led her to a spot not far from the base of the bridge. Some people had the front row, but Howard and Sarah stood behind them. “We can at least see the top of his head here,” he said, though he knew she could not hear him.

Howard kept his eyes on the space where he would see the performer's head, but he was aware that Sarah was looking back toward the bridge. He did not want her to miss seeing the walker. Reaching out to her, he put one hand on each side of her head in an effort to change the direction of her gaze.

Sarah would not be budged. Howard gave up, but
Sarah pulled on his arm. She began to make strange, agitated sounds, and she pointed toward the bridge. Gracie sat on the bridge rail. Howard could see that Jack had his arms tightly around the girl's waist. Howard knew the sign for safe. With his fingers closed, he crossed his hands in front of his body, then swung them free and faced them out. Sarah, of course, did not understand. He would have to think of a way to show her safe and then make the sign.

Just then, though, Gracie wiggled back, and Jack helped her off the rail to stand in front of him. Howard smiled and expected to see Sarah grow calm. She didn't. The sounds grew worse, and her face was full of terror. She reached for Howard's arm and began to move, pulling him after her. He did not resist her.

When they were near the base of the bridge, she stopped. This time it was Sarah who reached for Howard's head. She turned his face, then pointed under the bridge. Her high, frantic moans frightened Howard, and suddenly he understood them!

The wooden supports beneath the bridge swayed drastically. Any minute the bridge would fall! “Jack! Jack!” Howard called to his brother, but Jack's face was turned toward Laura, talking. Motioning for Sarah to stay, Howard ran for the bridge.

Alex began his journey on the wire, but Howard paid no attention. “Get off this bridge,” he called as he pushed his way through the crowd. “This bridge is going to fall.” No one seemed to pay him any mind. Finally, he was beside Laura. “Get off the bridge,” he shouted. “It's about to fall. The braces are giving way.”

Bert began to push through the crowd to get off. Laura and Gracie started to move, too, but Jack reached
for Laura's arm. “It's all right,” he said. “I've seen the braces on these bridges sway plenty. They're built to sway, but they won't fall.”

“No, Jack, listen. This is different. Come and look.”

“Alex is about to do his walk.” Jack pointed in the direction of the performer. “I don't want to miss this.”

“Laura,” Howard pleaded, “please come with me.”

Laura turned to look at Jack again, and Howard saw Jack shake his head.

Howard's heart beat frantically. He hesitated just a second, then he reached out for Gracie's arm. “You're coming,” he said in the firmest voice he had ever used in his life. Gracie followed. Howard pulled her through the crowd. “This bridge is falling,” he repeated over and over. Most people ignored him, but three or four moved with him.

“We'll go back out front,” he told Gracie. “I'll shout up at them some more. Maybe they will believe me.”

Back on the bank, Sarah, her face white, waited for them. Gracie went to Sarah, and they held on to each other while Howard shouted. “Come off the bridge.” He waved his arms and called as loudly as he could, “Get off the bridge.”

He saw Laura and Jack looking down at him. He thought he saw Laura start to move, but it was too late.

The sound of splintering wood and horrified screams filled the air. Bodies and boards fell together into the waiting water. Howard sprang from the bank, moving through the water, his eyes searching. Others, too, were looking. He saw heads appear as people righted themselves in the water. “Jack!” he called. “Laura!”

Someone clung to the bank in front of him, and Howard recognized Mac, his shirt torn and his shoulder
bleeding, struggling to climb out. Without a word, Howard bent, took Mac's legs, and lifted, but he did not wait to see him scramble up.

Then he saw Laura. She stood in the water. Her hat was gone, and her fair hair fell in wet tangles “Are you all right?” he shouted to her.

“Yes,” she called.

Howard was beside her now, and reached out to touch her shoulder. “Where's Jack?” She shook her head.

“I'll help you out,” he said, but she shook her head again.

“No, I can manage. You find Jack.”

Howard pushed on among the floating boards. Others searched, too, and Howard saw bodies being lifted from beneath the water. What if Jack was down there under the water? Then he saw him. Ahead of him a few yards, two men carried Jack between them, and they were lifting him to the bank.

Howard grabbed the bank and struggled to climb out. “Is he alive?” he called as he moved, but the men did not seem to hear him. A man on the bank pulled Howard up to a spot on the towpath. Howard, breathing too hard to speak, dropped beside his brother.

“He's breathing,” said the man who was bent over him, “but he won't wake up.”

“Jack! Jack! It's me. Open your eyes, Jack. Open your eyes, please.” A large gash covered most of Jack's forehead, and blood ran from it. Howard tore off his wet shirt and pressed it against the wound.

“The doctor will be by directly,” said the man who had helped pull him out. “I want to make sure everyone's been hauled out.”

“Thank you,” said Howard, but he did not look up. He pressed the shirt again to Jack's forehead. “Jack,” he said, “can you hear me? Wake up, Jack.”

Laura came then, with Gracie and Sarah. They knelt on the path beside Jack and Howard. “Where's the doctor?” Laura asked, and Howard pointed to where Doctor Pruett worked over a woman a few feet away.

Gracie and Sarah were crying. “We have to pray,” said Laura. “We've got to ask God to spare Jack.”

“Pray while you run home for blankets,” said Howard, “He's awful cold.”

Laura and Gracie went for the blankets. Sarah stayed beside Jack, her big blue eyes full of fear.

The girls came back with old Cyrus and blankets just as Doctor Pruett arrived. “Yes, cover him,” said the doctor. He listened to Jack's heart, held his wrist to take his pulse, and examined his injury. Howard waited, barely breathing.

Finally, the doctor looked up. “The boy has a brain injury.” He shook his head. “There's nothing to be done for him now. Take him home, put him to bed, and keep him warm.”

Cyrus asked the question Howard couldn't. “Will he come around?”

“There's no way to tell. He could wake up right away. He could wake up much later.” He sighed. “And, of course, he could slip away without ever opening his eyes.”

“He won't,” Howard said softly. “Jack won't give up. He won't.”

“Are you his brother?” the doctor asked, and Howard nodded. “I thought so,” said the doctor. “I see the family resemblance, same facial structure.”

Howard looked up, amazed. No one had ever said he looked like Jack. “Thank you, sir,” he said.

The doctor stood, took his bag, and started to move away. “There will be a wagon along soon,” he said. “They will take him home.”

Home, thought Howard, is far away. If Jack died, how would he ever tell their mother? How could he ever be the bearer of such news?

“Begging your pardon, Doctor Pruett,” Cyrus called, and the doctor turned back. “I be wondering did anyone die here today?”