The Devil's Paintbox (23 page)

Carlos looked like a different man, Aiden thought. He looked content, confident—even happy.

“Well, I'm glad for you,” Aiden said. “But the ferry is coming now—go on up,” he said to Maddy, nodding toward the reverend's wagon. “Stay in the wagons for the crossing. Some of the mules may get spooked.”

“Come sit on the cart,” Carlos said. “I'll show you the arm muscles in the anatomy book so you see what we've done.”

Aiden saw the look between them and bristled.

“Wait, Maddy.” He caught her arm as Carlos walked off. “You should ride with Marguerite,” he said.

“Why?”

“Well, um—she might be nervous.”

“Of what?” Maddy asked. “We're crossing a river, not rounding Cape Horn!” She turned around with a twirl of her skirt and ran after Carlos without another glance.

“Stand by to load!” the boatmen shouted. Aiden ran to help guide the wagons on. Joby took the mules under his firm hand while Carlos and Maddy climbed up onto the cart and pulled out the anatomy book.

They loaded quickly. The Thompsons’ two wagons were on the downriver side, with the reverend's wagon first on the
upriver side, then Carlos's cart just behind them. As they pulled away from shore, Aiden felt a deep sense of relief. He could see the rest of their train already forming up on the other side, ready to move on. Jackson was eager to get away from the crowds and congestion and mud. Despite his soaked and stinking pants, Aiden felt good. Another three weeks or so and the long journey would be over. He would begin a new life in a new land where anything seemed possible.

“All on!” shouted the boatman as he lifted the rear gate and latched it into place.

“All away!” He waved to the men on the opposite side. The drover flicked his switch and the animals began to walk their slow circle, winding the rope to haul the heavy ferry across. Aiden stood at the front, leaning on the railing. He looked back and saw Marguerite sitting beside Gabriel on their wagon seat, her head on his shoulder, his arm around her. At the back of the ferry, he saw Carlos and Maddy They sat a few feet apart, not touching at all, but in a way that was conscious and aching. The ferry lurched a little as it caught the current, then settled into the laborious trip. The river was all pale green and foaming white. Halfway across he heard Catherine, the Thompsons’ three-year-old, scream with delight.

“Look! The cow is swimming! Cow is swimming!”

Aiden saw little Catherine's bright face, framed in golden curls, peeking out of the Thompsons’ wagon. She squealed and pointed to the river. He turned to follow her gaze. There was indeed a cow in the water, just upstream of their ferry. It shouldn't have been there—the cattle were swum across downstream—but Aiden wasn't worried at first, for there were hundreds of cattle here and any number of mishaps that
could cast one in at the wrong place. Aiden saw a flash of its terrified white eyes and the desperate twitch of its black nose. Then he heard shouts and screams and saw the real danger.

One of the makeshift rafts upriver had snapped its lines and was now loose in the swift current, rushing straight toward them. There were people in the water, two tiny faces and a desperate flailing hand. He saw the ferrymen on the opposite bank whipping the oxen to tow their own ferry out of danger, but Aiden knew there was no way they would avoid collision.

“Hold on!” he shouted. “Everyone hold on!” But who could be strong enough to hold against this? And what should they hold on to? He grabbed the railing and braced himself.

The cow hit first, then the raft, squashing the animal so hard between the two boats that its belly split open and green stomach muck shot up and spattered over the deck. Then Aiden heard wood crack. He could even smell it splintering. He was thrown up into the air and landed hard on his back. All around was crashing and breaking, a fractured chaos of wheels and hooves, sliding, slamming; then, finally, a terrible pause. He felt weight on his legs and water rushing over him, but when he pushed himself up he found with relief that it was only inches deep. The two ferries were smashed together, the force of the crash tipping them both up in the middle like a mountain range. In the tumbled, twisted wreckage, it took Aiden long seconds to sort things out. The wagon on the other ferry had skidded into Gabriel's wagon, knocking it like a domino into the Thompsons’ wagon. The reverend's front axle had broken and the wagon
wheel now pinned Aiden to the deck. He wriggled and pulled but could not get himself free.

“Help! Aiden, help!” He saw Mrs. Thompson, clutching Catherine and hanging on to the seat. Her wagon had been knocked half off the ferry. The front wheels and most of the box balanced on the edge of the deck, with the rear wheels in the river. The two front mules were in the river, already half sucked beneath the ferry, while the rear two were on their sides on the deck, kicking wildly at the sky. The heavy canvas cover had been washed back and was caught in the current behind like a great sail, threatening to drag the wagon off at any moment.

He saw Catherine's face pressed up against her mother. Water rushed into the wagon box, swirling around their skirts. Therese had managed to brace herself against the side and held her sister Rose by one arm, while Rose clung to baby Andrew.

“Help us!” Mrs. Thompson screamed.

“I'm stuck!” He turned and pressed both hands against the wagon wheel but still could not pull himself free or even gain an inch. He looked around for a piece of rope, anything to throw, but there was nothing.

“Therese!” he shouted. She looked terrified but resolute. “Look—there—see the brake stick? Grab that and pull yourself up. Hand me Rose and Andrew.”

“Hold him!” Therese shouted to her sister. Rose, a skinny girl of eleven, shook with fear, but wrapped her arms around her baby brother as tightly as she could. Therese, still keeping a grip on the girl's narrow wrist, reached up and got one hand around the wagon brake handle.

“Good!” Aiden shouted. “Pull yourself up!” Therese felt for footing on the submerged boxes, pulled with all her might and managed to wrench the three of them out of the water and up to the front. She pushed Rose and the baby toward Aiden. Aiden grabbed Andrew first. He was plump and slippery but Aiden managed to get a good hold on the hem of his dress and yanked as hard as he could. The baby looked very surprised, but when Aiden finally reeled him in, he did not even cry.

“Here, up here!” Reverend True shouted. Aiden craned his neck and saw True lying on top of the wrecked wagon above, reaching down. Aiden flung baby Andrew up like a sack of flour, and True caught him. Then Therese pushed Rose up and Aiden grabbed Rose's arm and pulled, her bony knees knocking his ribs as she scrambled over him to safety. Therese kept hold of the brake with one hand and stretched back to take Catherine from her mother. She dragged the child through the water and handed her up to Aiden, who passed her on to True. The big blue wagon gave a terrible lurch, and Mrs. Thompson slipped and tumbled back into the wagon box.

“Come on, Ma!” Therese cried, still clinging to the brake stick. “Crawl on the boxes! Come on!” Aiden craned his neck, looking for Maddy. He saw that the Thompsons’ other wagon had been knocked on its side. It was still on the ferry but the heavy canvas cover was in the river, trapping the rest of the family beneath it. Aiden could see hands and heads desperately pressing against the canvas as they all struggled to get out before they drowned. Peter had been on the front seat and so had jumped free and was now struggling to get
the mules up, hoping, Aiden guessed, to haul the wagon up or at least hold it in place.

“Ma! Come on!” Therese shouted. Slowly Mrs. Thompson made her way up through the floating boxes and blankets, struggled through the rushing water and caught her daughter's hand. Together, they clutched at the sides, scrambling over shifting crates, and made their way forward. Aiden reached as far as he could and caught Therese's hand. He felt the metal wheel rim cut into his back. But he caught her hand and pulled as hard as he could. Her wet skirts made her heavy as a log. But finally Therese grabbed hold of the wheel rim and reached back to help pull her mother. They clambered up to safety. Aiden saw Marguerite still on top of their wagon, holding Andrew and Catherine, while Rose clung to the seat.

“Ed! Ed!” Mrs. Thompson screamed for her husband.

“Where's Maddy!” Aiden shouted to Gabriel. “Where's Maddy?” The river was loud as a hurricane.

“Oh God, there's Paul!” Mrs. Thompson screamed. The boy suddenly popped out from under the canvas. Aiden saw Peter stumble down the steeply pitched deck and grab him. Paul was choking and gasping for breath.

“Help—they're all drowning!” Mrs. Thompson wailed.

“Peter! Here!” True threw him a rope. The first toss was wild so he had to pull it in and try again. The second time Peter caught the end and quickly tied it around Paul. True hauled the child up to safety. Then Aiden saw a flicker of sun on a knife blade and suddenly the canvas split open. John's head poked out. He had sliced them all free. Three more heads popped out, gasping for breath. Joe, a gangly boy of twelve, clutched his little sister Monica. Ed, their father,
shoved them all forward. Quickly they slithered up through the cut, clawing their way over the sinking canvas to the edge of the ferry where Peter pulled them to safety

“Where's—Maddy?” Aiden gasped. The bright sun hammered down on them all, cheerful and golden as a picnic.

oc's got her.” Reverend True's voice was faint above. He climbed down from his teetering wagon. “Help me lift this!” he yelled at the Thompson men.

The Thompson brothers and their father all heaved on the buckled wheel that had pinned Aiden. The first attempt did nothing. A small, twinkling bottle of perfume crashed out of the wagon, rolled past Aiden and broke open, flooding the air with heavy scent. Then Mrs. Thompson and the rest of the children squeezed in to help, and this time they managed to shift the wheel just enough for Aiden to drag himself free. His body was numb and he struggled to get his feet working. He could see the shoreline getting closer. A dozen men were pulling on the ropes. All around him the chaos and noise continued. The foundered animals were the worst of it, with their desperate bellowing and their legs flailing everywhere. But finally Aiden crawled a few feet through the debris, pulled himself up on a crate and saw Maddy

The doctor's cart was on its side, and she and Carlos both sat up against it. They might have been a courting couple leaning against a rock. But their expressions were hardly tranquil. Carlos had one arm wrapped in a rope on the cart and the other in a desperate grip around Maddy. He had one leg on top of her and the other braced against the gate at the back of the ferry. It was a precarious hold against the tilted deck.

“Maddy!” Aiden shouted. He knew she could not hear him over the current, so he willed her to look at him. Aiden saw pain on Carlos's face, and the stark sinew of his arm straining to hold. Then Maddy turned and her eyes met his. She smiled. It was a childlike smile of relief. She saw her brother and knew she would be all right.

They were near the shore now. Aiden could smell the stomped muddy grass, could even feel the heat coming off the land. A few more minutes and they would all be safe. She would smile that way forever. She would love and grow up; she would dance and have a warm fire always, plenty of food, a wooden house and china plates, kittens safe from coyotes and babies that lived.

Then some twist of current surged beneath them. It jostled both ferries, and the smaller boat slipped under their own, thrusting it up. Aiden saw the cart shift and jerk to one side. Carlos and Maddy slid down the steeply pitched deck. An ox slid past Aiden, its horns carving a groove in the deck. Its leg caught in the spokes of the wheel and was ripped clean off as the rest of it was dragged into the fast water. Aiden saw Carlos jerk violently to a stop, his arm still twisted in the rope. Maddy slipped from his arm.

“Maddy!”

She was in the river now, the foaming water rushing around her. Somehow Carlos still had a hold on her wrist, but he could not pull her up. His feet scrambled against the deck, trying for a foothold. He strained to pull himself up by his lashed hand, but the arm looked grotesquely stretched and unstrung. Aiden crawled toward them, pulling himself through the broken crates and shattered wheels, between the kicking hooves and splintered boards.