Benny and the Bank Robber

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Benny and the Bank Robber Page 14

by Mary C. Findley


  Chapter Thirteen – In a Fortress

  Benny trudged to school in the snow one morning, holding his lunch bucket close. His mother had put a hot apple pie in it, and the warmth felt good. Benny hurried to get out of the cold, but he paused when he saw a man coming toward him with no coat on. He kept turning left and right as if he couldn't decide which way to go. He came closer and Benny tried to dodge as the man seemed to lunge right at him.

  They both fell in a snowbank. Benny jumped right up again. The man just lay there. People had frozen to death with more clothes on than this man had. Benny turned to go to someone's house for help.

  "Hello, Ben!" Called Sheriff Tanner. "Don't worry about this fellow." He hauled the man up out of the snowbank. "I'll take care of him. Been lookin' for him, anyway. Smashed a window in the hardware store and stole some stuff. Well, Hank Sutter, this time you get to come stay in a nice, warm cell. Look at you. Don't even know it's below zero."

  Benny hurried on. Mr. Sutter -- Caleb's father. He wondered what Caleb would do when he found out. Probably beat somebody up. As if it were somebody else's fault that his father was a drunk. Of course, it wasn't Caleb's fault, either. But that didn't make his punches hurt any less.

  Benny didn't have much time to thaw out in front of the big black stove in the schoolroom before Mr. Prentice was ready to call roll. Caleb came in late. Benny wondered if he knew his father had been arrested yet. Mr. Prentice told Caleb he had to stand up until recess for being tardy.

  Caleb looked kind of sick. He stood up for a time, but in the middle of Arithmetic he said, "Mr. Prentice, I don't feel good."

  "You will stand until recess, Caleb. Please don't interrupt again." Mr. Prentice turned to write something on the blackboard and Caleb crashed down between the desks and lay still.

  The girls screamed. Mr. Prentice turned around. It took him a moment to realize what had happened. He took a step toward Caleb but stopped, as if he didn't know what to do if he reached him.

  "I could go for the Doc," Jason Owens suggested.

  "Yes ... yes, perhaps you should." Jason grabbed his things and flew out without stopping to put them on. Mr. Prentice knelt beside Caleb and put a hand on his chest.

  "Finish your exercise quietly at your seats, children," Mr. Prentice ordered. He sat at his desk. Benny wished he had volunteered to go for the doctor himself. Nobody even looked at the books sitting open on their desks. They just looked at Caleb. Dr. Shepherd, a thin, frail man, finally came. He looked Caleb over.

  "Seems like he just fainted." He waved something under Caleb's nose and he snorted and waved his hands. Everybody laughed, mostly because they had been still for so long.

  "What happened, boy?" Dr. Shepherd asked. "Miss your breakfast?"

  "Never have no breakfast," Caleb said. He tried to get up.

  "Somebody give the boy something to eat and a drink of water," the doctor. Benny ran for his lunch bucket and Minnie Wilson got the dipper from the barrel in the back of the classroom.

  "Sit up careful, boy," the doctor admonished. Caleb ate Benny's pie quicker than Jason could have. "What brought this on?"

  "Well, I made him stand because he was tardy," Mr. Prentice said, clearing his throat. "He told me he didn't feel well, but I--"

  "My ma," Caleb said suddenly, not very loudly. "My ma and my sister ... They're dead."

  Dr. Shepherd's eyes widened. "Can't you take these children somewhere?" he said to Mr. Prentice.

  "Class, get your coats on," Mr. Prentice said. "We'll have an early recess." In the confusion of putting coats and boots on, Benny managed to overhear that Caleb had awakened that morning to find the wood stove in their house had gone out. His mother and sister had frozen to death.

  Outside Benny's toes immediately began to chill. He stamped over to Mr. Prentice, who was trying to look as if he weren't cold while standing as close to the door of the school as he could get.

  "Mr. Prentice, Caleb's father got arrested this morning," Benny told him. "What will happen to Caleb?"

  "I don't know, Benjamin. I suppose he'll be taken to the orphanage up in Jefferson City." The sheriff arrived at that moment.

  "Where's the Sutter boy, Mr. Prentice?" he asked.

  "Inside, with Dr. Shepherd," Mr. Prentice answered. "Sheriff, he just told us his mother and sister –"

  "Yeah, I found them when I went over with the news about Hank," the sheriff nodded. "I guess I need to get him took care of."

  "Won't you let his father out of jail since his boy has no one to take care of him?" Benny asked.

  "Caleb doesn't need the kind of care his father gives him," Mr. Prentice sniffed. "He's had enough of that already. He'll get very good treatment at the orphanage." The sheriff cast a glance that seemed to Benny like he couldn't believe what Mr. Prentice had just said, but he shrugged and went inside the schoolhouse.

  "Don't you think he needs a home and a good family?" Benny persisted.

  "Well, yes, that would be a good thing ..." Mr. Prentice's voice trailed off. The doctor and the sheriff came out with Caleb. Caleb was screaming and crying, fighting the sheriff, who was hardly any bigger than he was.

  "No! I don't wanna go! I want my pa! He's gotta be home by now! Lemme go! I wanna go home!" He kept it up until they were too far away to hear.

  "Children…" Mr. Prentice had to clear his throat several times before he could say anything else. "Let's make this a holiday. All of you can go home. Just be sure you're prompt tomorrow morning." He hurried off after the departing trio without another look at his students.

  Benny knew no one would expect him to come home this early. Jason grumbled as they walked toward the edge of town.

  "Trust old Prenty-poo to dump us out on a day like this," he exclaimed. "We'll freeze ta death walkin' home."

  Benny told Jason what Caleb had said.

  "What'd he come to school for?" Jason asked. "I sure wouldn't've."

  "Maybe he didn't know what else to do."

  "I'd've gone for the sheriff, or told a neighbor, or--or something..." Jason exclaimed. "I bet it happened 'cause his pa got drunk and didn't come home."

  Benny wondered if Jason was right about them freezing to death going home. He looked up and saw his Uncle Tom driving up behind them in his wagon.

  "Ben, what are you doing out of school?" Uncle Tom demanded. Benny told him what had happened. Uncle Tom was furious.

  "Prentice just dismissed all of you in this cold?" he shouted. "What was he thinking about? It's a good thing I had to stay in town after I dropped you off. I got shingles to patch the stable roof and got to talking to Lou Green. All right, climb in. I'm going to play school bus, because none of these children should be out walking in this weather."

  "Do you really think they'll send Caleb to an orphanage?" Benny asked his uncle as they started for home after dropping everyone off.

  "Where else would he go? Who'd take him?" Uncle Tom sighed. "That boy was born in trouble. You know Billy Smith's dad is the magistrate. Lem told me Doc Shepherd's keeping the boy at his house until they can figure out what to do with him. There's legal folderal got to be followed. It was better back when we was a territory. We just took care of stuff. Now everything's got letters to be sent and paperwork to be done. Bah. And that boy's just hangin' fire meanwhile."

  "But is Mr. Sutter--?" Benny started to ask.

  "Hank Sutter died in the jail right after he was brought in. Never even woke up again. I've seen men drink themselves and their whole families to death before. They can't forget about their sin. They just make it worse."

  "He never had a chance to believe in the Lord," Benny murmured.

  "Oh, I expect he's had chances and didn't want to listen. How many times did you tell your Jeremy?"

  "I wish there was some way Caleb wouldn't have to go to the orphanage," Benny said. "I could write to Mr. Connors. He's a lawyer. He might know."

  "Ben, it's simple. Some good family would have to agree to take him in. Frankly, I can't see that happening
."

  "Mother would take him," Benny ventured. "You'd let him stay with us, wouldn't you, Uncle Tom?"

  "Now wait just a minute!" Uncle Tom said. They had just pulled into their farmyard and Uncle Tom stood straight up in his seat. "Your ma's got enough to do to raise you all by herself. She doesn't need a boy like that added on."

  "Somebody's got to help Caleb and I'm going to ask her!" Benny jumped up too and ran into the farmhouse. Benny's mother was just coming out of the storeroom with a pot of potatoes.

  "Mother! Mother!" Benny cried. "Caleb Sutter's going to get sent to the orphanage because his folks are dead. Uncle Tom said he wouldn't have to go if some would take him. Couldn't we?"

  "Here, let me take that, Abigail," Uncle Tom offered, reaching for the pot of potatoes. "I told Ben it was a crazy idea. You're not strong enough to --"

  "Thank you, Mr. Laughlin, but I can manage." Benny's mother pulled the pot away. "Not strong enough, am I? I guess I'm as strong as I need to be. But ... Benny ... I don't know ... "

  "It'd be foolish to try," Uncle Tom persisted, still trying to grab the pot. "You'll break your heart over that boy and he'll probably end up just like his father."

  "You don't seem to have much faith in the Lord, Tom," Benny's mother snapped. "The Scriptures tell us to care for orphans. Perhaps he wants us to care for this boy."

  "Now, Abigail, I won't let you do it!" Uncle Tom shouted. Benny's mother's eyes got very big.

  "You may be my older brother, Thomas Laughlin, and you may own this farm, but you cannot tell me what to do!" she snapped. She shoved the potato pot into Uncle Tom's hands. "I have money saved from my sewing and my eggs," she said sharply. "If you won't allow the boy to live here, I'll rent a room for us in town."

  Uncle Tom set the pot down and caught Benny's mother's hands in his own.

  "Abigail, my dear sister," he said gently, "just simmer down. All right. All right. If you're determined to get that boy of course we'll make room for him. But listen to me first. The magistrate said it'll take some time to do things the legal way. Why don't you think about this for a few days? You don't know what you're getting into with that Sutter boy."

  "I don't need to think about it," Benny's mother said. "My son has told me that this boy is his schoolmate, and he needs a home desperately. That's enough for me. May I drive the wagon in to town to see what I can do?"

  Uncle Tom threw up his hands and said, "Go right ahead."

  "May I come, too, Mother?"

  "Of course, Darling."

  Shivering and hiding his face from the wind on the way back to town, Benny wondered if he'd done something incredibly stupid. How could he possibly live with Caleb Sutter? God would have to work a gigantic miracle.

  "Oh, yes'm, Mrs. Richardson," nodded the clerk at the magistrate's office when they came up. They had gone to Doctor Shepherd's house and found no one at home. The sheriff's office was empty too. "Caleb Sutter's here, all right."

  "Good. I'd like to take custody of him ... adopt him ... whatever I need to do to be able to take him home with me."

  "Well, now, I wouldn't've thought that particular boy'd be so popular. Go right through that door. Judge is about to start a hearing."

  Benny followed his mother into the small courtroom. The judge was already seated. Benny saw Caleb slumped between the sheriff and Doctor Shepherd on a bench against the wall.

  "Well, well, who have we here?" the magistrate asked. "Mrs. Richardson. May I ask the reason for your attending this hearing?"

  "I'd -- I'd like to adopt Caleb Sutter, your honor," Benny's mother said nervously. Benny saw Caleb jump. Apparently he hadn't even noticed they had come in.

  "Dear me," the judge said. "Usually in a case like this I can't find a soul to take an interest in adopting an orphaned boy. Now this is unusual." The judge studied Benny and his mother. "You are a widow, are you not, Mrs. Richardson?"

  "Yes, your honor," Benny's mother nodded.

  "And you do not own your own property, as I understand it. You are ... living with your brother Tom Laughlin, are you not?"

  "Sir, my brother is willing to make room," Benny's mother insisted. "The boy is a schoolmate of my son's. I'm sure we would manage."

  "Your willingness is commendable, Mrs. Richardson. And I don't doubt that a lady of your character could do most anything you decided was right. But I reckon Mr. and Mrs. Prentice are probably in better shape to take him. No children, plenty of room ... "

  "Mr. Prentice?" Benny gasped. The schoolteacher and his wife had been sitting in front of them the whole time and Benny hadn't known it. Mr. Prentice turned around gave him an embarrassed smile.

  "I thought a great deal about what you said, Benjamin," Mr. Prentice told him. "My wife and I aren't able to have children of our own. You were quite right about Caleb needing a home. We'd like to try to give him one."

  "So, I thank you, Mrs. Richardson, very much," the judge said, "but I believe I will award custody of Caleb Sutter to Mr. and Mrs. Prentice, if you don't object."

  "Thank you, your honor," Benny's mother said weakly. "Why don't you say hello to Caleb, darling, and then we'll go."

  Benny didn't really want to say anything to Caleb. But he took a few steps toward him. The sheriff and Doctor Shepherd were talking to the judge, and Mr. and Mrs. Prentice turned to speak to Benny's mother.

  "I'm glad you don't have to go to the orphanage, Caleb," Benny said awkwardly. "I'm -- I'm real sorry about your family."

  Caleb stared at him as if they had just met. "Why was your ma gonna adopt me?" he asked. "Don't she know I -- "

  "No, she doesn't. Nobody knows around here except Doc Daniel and he promised he'd never tell."

  "You didn't even tell your mother? What is it with you, Richardson? You wanted to live with me after I beat the -- " he broke off.

  "No, I didn't really want to live with you. But I wanted to show you that God loves you. You need to believe in Jesus, Caleb. I was hoping if you lived with us, you'd become a Christian."

  Caleb curled his lip. "You just felt sorry for me," he growled. "I ain't your personal case, Richardson. I don't need you, or your ma, or your God." He glanced over at the Prentices. "I wish I didn't need them, either. But maybe this'll work out for some plans I got. It's lucky we didn't get stuck with each other. I don't think you'd've survived it."

  Benny and his mother headed back toward home. "I'm glad God had other plans for Caleb, Mother," Benny said. "It would have been kind of hard living with him." Benny wondered how much his mother really knew about the town bully.

  "Yes, Darling, I have to admit I'm glad too," his mother replied. "I felt sorry for him I wanted to help him. I'm afraid I just got angry when your Uncle Tom told me he wouldn't let me do it. That wasn't a very good reason for doing something -- trying to prove someone wrong -- was it?"

  "But mother, I bet Jeremy would have told you the same thing. He's always saying in his letters that he worries about how hard you work. He cares a lot about you."

  Benny's mother let go the horse's reins. Benny grabbed them. His mother pushed a stray wisp of hair back under her bonnet. "Do you really think he does, Darling?" she asked in a funny voice.

  "Of course he does. You wouldn't get mad at him if he told you not to take in Caleb, would you? He's our friend."

  "He's a very good and wise friend, Benny," his mother said, so softly he could hardly hear her. "A very good, very dear friend."

  "Life's gettin' downright dull 'round here," Jason Owens complained as he and Benny walked to school one morning in the early spring. "Ma ain't had a baby for months, Prentice is killin' us with homework, and Caleb ain't even chasin' us no more." Jason sighed as if life just weren't worth living anymore. Benny had given up trying figure Jason out. He was glad Caleb had gone to live with the Prentices. Caleb had changed completely. His clothes were always clean and neat, he never missed school – he came early with Mr. Prentice to build the fire and stayed late to clean. He never got whipped in school or had to stand. Not ev
en Benny could claim that.

  "Geography time, class," Mr. Prentice called out halfway through the morning. "Caleb, please get out the maps."

  Caleb jumped up and brought the big, rolled-up maps from the storage closet. To Benny's surprise, Caleb began to teach the lesson. He handled the maps like an experienced lecturer. All the children stared at him in disbelief. He obviously knew what was talking about. He described the rivers Benny had traveled himself as he had crossed Pennsylvania, Ohio and Kentucky with Jeremy. Benny knew that Caleb had been born in Osage. He had hardly left town. How did he know so much? And he made it interesting, too. He knew everything about the lay of the land, the weather, where people lived and where nobody could live.

  "Caleb, how'd you get to know so much about Geography?" Jason demanded, going straight up to the older boy at recess. Caleb always sat on the school steps at recess. He never hung around the edge of the woods with the other older boys anymore. He never talked to anyone but Mr. Prentice.

  "Like you care," Caleb growled. Then he glanced up anxiously to see where Mr. Prentice was. He was standing some distance away and hadn't heard, but he was watching Caleb closely. Caleb sat up straighter.

  "I can remember everything I read about maps," Caleb answered reluctantly. "He –" he nodded his head in Mr. Prentice's direction " – he has all kinds of books. I read 'em all the time. I wanta go places an' see things. He says if I do real good maybe I can go to school to be a Cartographer or a surveyor."

  "What's that, a geography teacher?" Jason asked.

  "A map-maker," Benny said, poking him in the ribs.

  "Sounds like a lot of work," muttered Jason as he turned to leave.

  "I just know about what's in the books," Caleb said, actually seeming excited something for the first time in his life. "I want to go there. Not east – lots of people done – I mean did – that already. I want to make maps of the West – go everywhere – see everything. There are only a couple of books about it. Hardly any maps. I could make the maps."

  "I guess things are a lot better for you now, even though your family died," Benny said.

  Caleb took one glance across the playground. Then quick as a snake he grabbed Benny by the collar. "My father's right over there," he hissed, jerking his head in the direction of Mr. Prentice. "He's my chance to get outta this stinkin' town an' do what I want. I got maybe one, two years – As long as I'm a good boy, a respectable, hard-workin' schoolmaster's boy, I'll get someplace. But if somebody starts bringin' up stories about the town drunk's boy, that somebody's gonna get his head split."

  "You let go of Ben!" Jason Owens had seen what was happening and had run to Benny's side. Caleb released Benny and stood up.

  "Just stay clear of me, Richardson," he said. "You an' me, we're just too different."

  "You come after Benny and I'll paste you!" Jason snapped.

  "I'm shakin'," Caleb said with a sneer. "Mind what I said, Richardson. Everybody says God's lookin' out for that sweet little Benny and his sweet little mama. You better hope He keeps on."

  Caleb went back into the schoolhouse. Benny wasn't sure he had the strength to stand up. All the old terror of Caleb washed back over him, and the extra realization that he had obviously rejected the Lord didn't make Benny feel any better.

  "I knew he hadn't changed," Jason grunted. "It's all an act. You watch. Watch your back, I mean, Ben."

  Benny shrugged. "I just wish he wouldn't turn away from God. He sounds so much like Jeremy used to be before he got saved."

  "I can't imagine Jeremy doing anything like that," Jason said.

  "He's doing exactly the same thing," Benny mused. "Playing a part, acting to get what he wants. I remember how scared I was when I realized what Jeremy really was – when he stuck that knife up against my throat. You look into a person's eyes, and you see cold, empty hate. You feel like even God couldn't keep him from doing what he wanted, because God's just not in there."

  "Hey, God's insida you, an' He's all around you. You're lookin' at Caleb from the biggest fort in the world, with the biggest, toughest sharpshooters up on the walls, an' bodyguards standin' all around you, close as this!" Jason pushed himself tight up against Benny's back and assumed the pose of a fierce fighter. "Closer! The Bible says don't be afraid. Besides, you got me, too. I'll keep a watch on Caleb for you. Me an' God both, so you just quit worryin'."

  Caleb continued to shine in school. He studied all the time, bringing books out to recess, sketching maps on the steps of the school. He hung around the records office and studied official maps of the territories. Benny heard that he had even pointed out some mistakes to the clerks, and that they had checked into it and found he was correct.

  He would often see Caleb hunched over a piece of paper, studying the lay of the land around Osage, mapping it from every angle. He would go up into the hills and map the layout of the town. If surveyors ever came through Caleb would be stuck to them like a burr. Benny admired his determination, but he stayed out of his way. He also practiced harder than ever to keep up his skills with the knife Jeremy had given him. Benny tried not to connect the two.

  Benny got a letter from Dan Connors telling him about a special occasion. Jeremy had been asked to preach his first sermon in the prison chapel.

  "I have never seen our Jeremy so unsure of himself," Dan Connors wrote. "When I arrived on the morning of his debut I found him alone in the chapel, theology books spread out everywhere, studying his Bible, nervous and distracted.

  "'Jeremy, God just wants you to be faithful to preach the Word,' I told him.

  "'It's a fearful thing to handle the Word of God,' Jeremy told me. 'I feel I'm just one of them. Why should they listen to me?"

  "'They'd be more likely to listen to someone who's not a big saint they think they can never be like,' I told him. 'They know you, Jeremy. You live in front of them every day. They know you love God. You're always telling them about Him.'

  "'This is different.' Jeremy had gone back to his books. Soon the place began to fill up with guards and prisoners. I prayed with all my heart as I sat down. Jeremy put aside his books, gripped his Bible, and seemed to turn to stone as the chaplain stood up to begin the service.

  "A great many men came to the service. The chaplain's wife sang a solo and the men clapped and stomped their feet before they remembered you weren't supposed to do that in church. They were very quiet when Jeremy got up and opened his Bible on the shaky little podium.

  "'Let's pray,' he said. Everyone's head bowed. We waited, but Jeremy didn't start praying. After a minute I peeked. Jeremy was clutching the podium very tightly with both hands, his eyes squeezed shut, and he was shaking. He didn't even seem to be trying to say anything.

  "'Oh, Lord, help him to at least be able to pray,' I said to myself. The silence went on longer. Feet began to shuffle. Clothing rustled. A few men coughed. At last I jumped to my feet.

  "'Open thou mine eyes that I may behold wondrous things out of Thy law,' I said. 'Amen.' Everyone looked up. Jeremy was almost smiling as he looked across the room at me. I grinned at him and sat down. He fiddled with his Bible.

  "'I'm taking my text from Psalm 142, verse seven. I like the Psalms,' Jeremy said, finally relaxing a little. 'They give comfort to scared folks like me. The verse says "Bring my soul of prison, that I may praise Thy Name: the righteous shall compass me about; for Thou shalt deal bountifully with me." Here's all I want to say. I was in a prison a time long before I got to this place here. I was in the prison house of sin. God sent someone tell me about His goodness.

  "'I didn't listen at first. You'd think only a crazy man would want to stay in prison, but I liked it there. God had to keep stretching out his hand, bending down, reaching out, saying, "Come out, fool! Enter into the joy of thy Lord."

  "'I've always hated the sight of blood. Most of you know a cougar attacked me over in Missouri. I got to see a lot of blood then, and worse yet, it was my own. I couldn't get away from it. It was everywhere. It was in my eyes, in my throat – i
t covered me, it covered the cougar, it covered the ground – Blood.

  "'You're all looking away now, trying to think about something else. Don't. Think about blood. Think about the blood of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the Lord of Glory, Creator of the Universe. He had blood just like me. And Roman soldiers whipped it out of him. They hammered in nails and let it ooze out. They jammed a spear into His side and it poured out. The Jews howled to see it.

  "'What am I talking about all this blood for? Because it's the key to the prison house, fellows. It's your ticket out. Without the shedding of blood there is no remission of sins. It's pardon. It's forgiveness. It's exit papers. The prison is sin. Satan's trying to keep you there. He wants company. But Jesus Christ's blood poured out over the whole earth. The sentence fell on Him. He paid the price. Get out of prison. Believe in the blood of Jesus.'

  "Jeremy prayed again. He prayed that the men stuck in prison there would understand the real prison they were in and get out. He thanked God for the righteous who had compassed him about and helped God to deal bountifully with him.

  "After the service, a lot of the men joked and said they liked the sermon because was one of the shortest they had ever heard. Some were very sober as they left.

  "'I only preached half the sermon,' Jeremy chuckled to me when only the Chaplain and I remained. 'I wanted to say a lot more about those righteous compassing me about. That's you and your father, Dan, and Ben Richardson and his mother. You were all part of the fortress God put me in to keep me from going deeper into sin. Ben and your father put me on the path to where I could see the blood of Christ. You've been my rock to cling to in times of great discouragement when I wanted to believe God wasn't there. I want you to know how grateful I am.'

  "I said to him, 'Jeremy, I believe you'll make a fine preacher. Just keep speaking the Word of God from your heart. You make me think of David, and how he was a man after God's own heart.'

  "'Thank you, Dan,' he said to me, so sweetly humble. 'I remember how it says in the Scriptures that David had men who protected him in battles. He needed thirty of them. I guess two mighty men, one mighty woman and one mighty boy are enough for me for now.'"

  It hardly even seemed as if Jeremy was in prison, except that he was still so far away. He was so busy preaching, doctoring and working as a trusty in the prison. When Benny complained about their separation in a letter Jeremy had written back, "Ben, I haven't got time to fret. There's too much to do here."

  Doc Daniel took Benny on a trip to visit some of his Indian converts. They rode in a wagon so Doc Daniel could carry supplies for the villages he visited. His horse Neb and Black Switch stayed behind on Uncle Tom's farm. They had just returned from the trip. Benny took Black Switch for a long ride the afternoon after they returned. The stallion seemed to be so comfortable with Benny now. Benny wondered if he even remembered Jeremy.

  Uncle Tom had always thought of horses as just work animals. He seemed to hate having to "mollycoddle" the stallion, though he refused to accept the money Benny's mother had tried to give him for the horse's care.

  "He's all right, isn't he?" Aunt Caroline asked when Benny came back into the farmyard. She had come over from hanging the laundry with Benny's mother. "Tom was so worried, but I told him that horse would be fine."

  "What do you mean, Aunt Caroline?" Benny asked.

  "Oh, dear, I'm probably not supposed to tell you," Aunt Caroline said, glancing around to see where her husband was. Benny didn't see him anywhere. After a moment's hesitation, Aunt Caroline continued. "But then, I think you have a right to know. Black Switch went off his feed right after you left. He started losing weight, drooping, even falling down. Your uncle thought at first he was just missing you. But it wasn't that.

  "Tom was beside himself. He never really hated that horse, Benny, but he hated being responsible for him. The vet said it was some kind of parasite, and he gave Tom a list of medicines to give, hot wrappings, exercises, and special food.

  "Tom did everything exactly as he was told. He was up and down during the night, in and out all day -- wouldn't even let me or your mother help. The horse looked terrible. We were sure he was going to die.

  "'What'll I tell the boy?' he'd ask me, pulling what little hair he had out of head, Benny, I swear. You and your mother were just full of Jeremy and how much you thought of him and Tom was sure he'd be disowned if that horse didn't make it. He took to sleeping in the horse's stall, waking up every couple of hours to force-feed him -- the Lord only knows what-all he did for that horse. And pray! He never prayed for rain in a drought like he prayed for that horse to eat."

  "Switch looks wonderful," Benny said. "You'd never know he's been sick."

  "Tom kept asking me, 'D'you think he'll notice? Isn't his coat a little off? Isn't he kinda bony?' He curried Switch and fed him special oats and treated him like a baby.

  "And sugar! You'd never believe Tom would give him sugar, would you? But it was the only way he could get him to eat. A lump of sugar, a handful of oats. A lump of sugar, a little bran mash. That horse is spoiled rotten. But let me tell you, Tom loves him now. He'll never tell you, but he loves that horse. And Switch knows who saved his life, all right."

  Benny put the horse up in the pasture as they talked and both of them stood patting Black Switch before Aunt Caroline went back to the clothesline. Uncle Tom walked by and the stallion whinnied sharply and stamped on the ground. Benny watched Uncle Tom turn slowly to look at him. Black Switch tossed his head once, twice, three times. On the fourth, Uncle Tom, guilty as a schoolboy about to get switched, sidled over with his hand in his pocket.

  "Ben, why don't you go help your mother and Aunt Caroline hang out those quilts? They're too heavy for women." Benny started to follow Aunt Caroline across the yard, but looked back over his shoulder in time to see Uncle Tom taking a handful of sugar cubes out of his pocket.

  "Mother, isn't it hard to believe that Jeremy's been in prison for a year and a half?" Benny asked as he helped pull Aunt Caroline's colorful bedding out of the laundry baskets.

  "The time has gone quickly for us, Benny," his mother replied. "I'm sure it hasn't been that way for Mr. Carlisle. He's so anxious to get on with what the Lord wants him to do. And there are still years to go in his sentence."

  "He told me he felt like David in the wilderness," Benny said. "Trapped and waiting for something to happen. It's not really that bad, anymore, is it?"

  "Mr. Carlisle can never go outside those prison walls, darling," his mother, "except with a leg iron chained to a work crew. Most of the time he sees only the grass in the exercise yard. He only hears the birds on the other side of the walls. He can't walk in the woods, climb the hills, fish in the river.

  "He can't go to the store, or come to our house for dinner, or put on a nice suit and go to church. He can't go hunting deer like all the men do in the fall. He can't plant a field like Uncle Tom does in the spring.

  "Just because he's a trusty, don't think he doesn't still have to work hard. Sometimes he works so hard – breaking up rocks with a sledge hammer, digging trenches and hauling away the dirt by the barrow load, chopping wood till his hands are blistered and then chopping some more – I imagine some nights he is so weary he can't sleep. And then he hears those keys rattling in the lock of his cell door. He's a prisoner, Benny. You can't really imagine what it's like for him."

  "He hasn't said anything to me about that in a long time," Benny said wonderingly. But then he remembered that Jeremy promised he wouldn't, either.

  "Mr. Carlisle doesn't complain. He never told me any of those things, either. I worked with your father sometimes as a volunteer at that very prison before you were born. I saw how it was for those men. He's taking what the Lord gives him and trying to be grateful. It's very hard for him sometimes, though." Benny's mother wiped eyes on her apron.

  "I never thought you'd get to like Jeremy so much, mother," Benny said. "When we were traveling together I had such a hard time to keep from liking him. I hated the wrong th
ings he did, but he was so friendly, and so funny. He was such a good singer, and so smart. But he was a thief, and a liar, and I kept thinking how sad it would make you if you knew I really liked him, even before he became a Christian. I didn't want to, but I couldn't help it."

  "He's an easy person to like, Darling. Especially now that he's a believer. He just fills your heart right up."

  "I still wish he didn't have all those scars. He used to be really handsome," Benny sighed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. "Jeremy showed me a newspaper right after I started to figure out the truth about him. It had the story about the robbery with his picture.

  "I tore the picture out of the paper and saved it. At the time I thought maybe I'd have a chance to show it to somebody so he'd get caught. Jeremy doesn't even know I have it. Would you like to see what he looked like, mother?" He started to unfold the yellowed scrap and show it to her.

  "Darling, put it away," his mother said quickly, covering it with her hand and shaking her head. "I know what he looks like now, and that isn't going to change."

  "Why don't you want to see it?"

  "I wouldn't want to be imagining him the way he used to be ... the way we all wish he was. I'd rather not know. The Lord has changed him forever, and I want to be content with what he is. Benny, Mr. Carlisle will have people looking at him and wishing he looked different all his life.

  "That is another kind of prison he's in; one he'll never be released from until God gives him a new face in heaven. Don't make that prison any harder for him than it is."

  Benny looked at the folded bit of paper. Then suddenly he ripped it into tiny pieces and threw them into the wind. His mother hugged him.

  "We must give Mr. Carlisle all our love, Benny," she said. "All the love that God will let us give him."

  "Mail call! Mail call!" shouted Tom. He turned away from the small wagon that just driven up to the gate. "Letter from the prison in Philadelphia. Must be for Black Switch, I reckon." He looked over at the horse, who had pricked up his ears. "Naw, you sorry slab of horse flesh, nobody ever writes to you. It says it's for Master Benjamin Richardson."

  Benny had already grabbed it out of Uncle Tom's hand as he stood stretching out his arm to read the print. Benny ran out of the yard, jumped the fence, and crossed the field to his favorite spot in the apple orchard. He tore open the letter.

  "I have discovered that I am not too busy to miss you and your sweet mother, Ben, after all. I thought about checking into the infirmary with a case of letter deprivation." (Benny was embarrassed that he hadn't written to Jeremy while he had been on his trip.)

  "But I would not for the world have spoiled your trip. I hope you haven't forgotten how to muck out the barn, Ben. And I also hope that ill-tempered stallion of mine is not presuming too much upon Uncle Tom's kindness. I know it is a trial for him to be burdened with that useless creature.

  "You know that I have been chided for keeping from you the life I live in prison. "'Bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ,'" Dan Connors said to me. "You're not letting anybody fulfill the law of Christ." So, since I am sure you will find out about this anyway, I will tell you. But I ask that you keep it as between 'us men,' as I did your beating by Caleb Sutter. Fair is fair.

  "I really am writing this letter from the prison infirmary, not as a helper but as a patient. We got in a new prisoner who had killed someone in a knife fight. He himself had been quite badly cut, and the Warden had called me in to assist Dr. Glyniss. The man wasn't properly searched. He was dragged in, blood everywhere, and the guards thought him unconscious and got careless. No sooner had they got him to the door of the infirmary than he seized Dr. Glyniss by the throat and pulled a knife from his clothing.

  "For all his great size, the doctor was reduced to a quivering mass of fear. The guards were about to jump on the prisoner, but I told them that I would take him into infirmary and tend him just as I had been asked to do. I persuaded him that I was a prisoner like himself, and that he wouldn't get anywhere with his leg bleeding as it was. People have often told me that I have a persuasive way about me. I do know that I never acted a part with more sincerity than I did when I gained that fellow's confidence. He actually traded me his knife for a scalpel after I had sewn him up. I showed him some of my trick throwing, though I confess I was very rusty.

  "You must remember that all this took place while this man held his arm around Dr. Glynniss' neck and threatened to cut his throat. I assure you he had no trouble with soft-heartedness and would have done it. The warden and all the guards were getting very impatient waiting outside the door. I fear I acted my part so well they suspected me of really wanting to help the fellow.

  "My story goes on too long. Can you guess what I did? I managed to pin his shoulder to the wall with his own knife. Dr. Glyniss got free of him, but, alas, I suffered for my stupidity in giving him the scalpel. The wound is not bad. Dr. Glyniss says I will not even have a new scar to show for it. My conscience is clear now.

  "I can proceed with my real reason for writing. I have some news to communicate to you, but my letter has gotten so long I think I will enjoy a little good-natured torturing and make you wait until I can spring it on you properly. You will find it very surprising, I think, as I did. After this spring nothing will be the same. That is enough of a hint. Give your mother a kiss for me, and be assured that I will savor the very thought it. She is the best of little women, Ben, and you must never fail to appreciate her. You know I am a poor correspondent. I would not have written at all except for the pleasure of making you wonder what my news may be, and of imagining that kiss."

  "What do you think his news is, mother?' Benny asked her for the twentieth time as they got up to go to bed. "When do you think we'll find out? What can it be?"

  "Darling, I don't know, I'm sure," his mother insisted. "Didn't he give any hints in letter?"

  "Oh, I forgot something he asked me to do," Benny exclaimed, and kissed his mother on the cheek.

  "Mr. Carlisle asked you to do that?" his mother asked, blushing very red.

  "Yes, and he said he would be imagining it ... oh ... What does deprivation mean?"

  Benny's mother seemed lost in a fog all of a sudden. "Mother, what does deprivation mean?"

  "It means having to do without something you want very much," she said.

  "Like letters?" Benny asked.

  "Like kisses," his mother said, half to herself.

 

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