by Bill Bright
His backside was sore, his stomach empty, his patience worn. He was grouchy and frustrated. The man tending Jake’s Tavern—Paulie? or was it Polly, like the bird?—had remembered seeing a boy that fit Daniel’s description. He said the boy ate breakfast and left. Hadn’t offered his name, and Paulie hadn’t asked.
But now, after hours of nothing but dirt road, a biting wind, an empty sky, and the back end of his horse for company, Asa had had enough.
Years ago, when he’d chased Daniel’s father all the way to Kentucky, at least he’d known where Eli Cooper was going. Asa could let him slip out of sight and not worry. This was different. Asa could only guess where Daniel was going. And he had no way of knowing whether he was getting closer to the boy or farther away.
Asa pulled back on the reins, and his horse came to a ready halt, agreeing with him that they’d come too far. It was time to turn around.
Asa cast one last look up the road. Nothing but skittering leaves for as far as he could see. The wind whistled. Asa recognized the tune.
His brow furrowed.Tune?
He listened harder. He was certain he heard a faint melody—one that wasn’t of nature.
He coaxed his horse into a slow walk and cocked an ear, hoping to pick up the direction of the sound. But even when it grew louder, pinning down its location proved troublesome.
Stopping the carriage, Asa grabbed his cane and climbed out. He walked in circles in the road, listening, his senses alert like those of a dog sniffing the air. He left the road, took a few steps, and stopped. Then walked again until he came upon a hole in the ground, large enough for a grown man to squeeze through.
His joints complaining, Asa lowered himself to his knees and leaned into the hole. It was a cave entrance. The familiar recorder music told him Daniel was inside.
“Daniel?”
His voice traveled into the dark regions, then came back to him. The music continued to play.
“Daniel!” he shouted.
He listened for a pause in the music, some indicator that the boy heard him. The music played on.
Another shout, this one loud enough to grate his throat, yielded a similar result.
Asa crawled a little ways into the cave, scraping his palm and propelling pebbles down the slope into the abyss.
Either Daniel still hadn’t heard him, or—and Asa couldn’t stop himself from thinking this was the more likely scenario—the boyhad heard him and was ignoring him. There was no letup in the music.
Asa had never liked the recorder and liked it even less whenever Daniel used it to drown him out. More than once the boy had claimed he hadn’t heard Asa calling him from the bottom of the stairs.
By now Asa’s eyes had adjusted to the diminished light in the mouth of the cave. He could see past the rock slope to a place where no amount of eye adjustment could make seeing possible.
He set his cane aside and crawled a little farther down the slope to make one last effort to get Daniel to hear him, bracing himself as he crawled. Then his hand slipped again.
This time his chest and chin hit rock, forcing the breath from his lungs. His elbow hit his cane, knocking it free and sending it slithering like a stiff snake toward the abyss. Lunging at it, he caught it just before it went over the edge. But in doing so, he accelerated his headlong slide toward the deepest black he’d ever seen!
Nothing he tried could stop the slide. His boots could find no anchor.
“Dear God, help me!”
Daniel lowered his recorder, certain he’d heard his name. Did Epps believe he could talk Daniel into crawling out of the cave to his death?
Still, the taunting made him uneasy. Epps could be toying with him. Diverting his attention. Had he found another way into the cavern?
Daniel eyed the fissure with suspicion. It was clear all the way to the other side. His eyes darted in all directions for as far as the candle light shined, and he saw nothing to indicate Epps had found a way in. Satisfied he was safe, he lifted his recorder and began playing again.
In the distance, beyond the music, beyond the cavern walls, he heard his name again.
“That does it.”
Picking up the tinderbox and candle, Daniel worked his way deeper into the cavern where he could play his recorder without Epps interrupting him.
Camilla gave a start.
“Asa…?”
The house felt empty with him away. Traveling away felt different from everyday-at-school away. All morning she’d kept herself busy, trying not to think about it.
She’d finished her morning chores, baked some Christmas cookies, warmed a bowl of soup for lunch, looked out the window for the hundredth time, and figured the time might be best spent by reading her Bible and praying.
Sitting on the front-room sofa beside the fire, she continued her Bible study in Genesis where she’d left off—the story of Joseph. She was at the verses where his brothers saw him coming from afar and called him a dreamer.
One of them said, “Come now therefore, and let us slay him, and cast him into some pit, and we will say, Some evil beast hath devoured him: and we shall see what will become of his dreams.”
For some reason, when Camilla read that passage, Asa came to mind and her heart gave a start.
Why would she think of Asa then? Was God speaking to her? Trying to tell her something? Had some evil come upon Asa?
A knock on the door startled her even more.
A frightened whimper escaped from her throat.
With her hand pressed to her chest—her heart was racing, oblivious to any attempt to calm it—she opened the front door.
“Camilla, my dear! Did I startle you?”
A concerned Cyrus Gregg stood in her doorway.
“No…well, yes, a little. It’s just that, with Asa gone…I was being silly, that’s all.”
But she didn’t feel foolish. The fright she’d experienced reading about Joseph’s brothers and the pit lingered.
“So Asa went after the boy?” Cyrus asked. “I figured he would.”
“Yes.” Camilla took a deep breath to steady herself. “He rode out this morning.”
Cyrus lowered his gaze. “I hope you don’t mind my stopping by like this. I was hoping Daniel had come to his senses and thought it would be easier for us to work everything out if I took the initiative. Despite what he’s done, I can’t help but like the boy.”
“How thoughtful of you! You’re so kind…”
Cyrus touched the back of his head and winced.
“Your bump!” Camilla stepped toward him, trying to see it. “Have you seen a doctor? Let me take a look.”
“It’s not serious. Nothing to concern a doctor about. Not on the day before Christmas.”
“Let me determine that for myself,” Camilla insisted. “Come inside. Over here. Sit on the sofa and let me look at it.”
She tugged at his arm and led him inside. He sat on the sofa. Making her way to the back side of the sofa, she bent closer to get a better view of the lump on the back of his head. She lifted his hair, then probed it with her finger.
“Ow!” Cyrus pulled away. “Do all women have to do that? Show a woman a wound, and the first thing she wants to do is touch it.”
While his cry of pain was real, his tone was friendly, almost playful.
“Men are such babies when it comes to pain,” Camilla replied. “It’s discolored, but it looks better than it did yesterday. Did you have a difficult time sleeping?”
“You have no idea,” Cyrus said.
It felt good to be talking to him. Camilla was glad he’d stopped by. Hearing another voice made the house feel less empty.
Cyrus stood and faced her, the sofa between them. “How long did Asa say he would be gone?”
“He didn’t.” Camilla chose not to tell Cyrus he hadn’t said anything because they’d been fighting.
“Do you know if he planned to return in time to be at the Christmas Eve party tonight?”
“Your party! Oh, Cyrus! In all the c
ommotion, I’d forgotten all about it! You must think me horrible!”
“I would never think that of you, Camilla. You know that.”
“You’re being kind. Truthfully, I don’t know of Asa’s plans for tonight. I know he was excited about going before all this happened with Daniel. I suppose it depends on whether or not he finds Daniel, and if there is enough time to dress.”
“I understand,” Cyrus said. “It’s my own fault, I suppose. I should have invited you and Asa to my party years ago.”
“Asa was thrilled to be invited this year. Please believe me. He’d do anything to be there. And who knows? He and Daniel still might show up in time to get ready for your party.”
“I hope so.” Cyrus walked toward the front door.
Camilla followed him.
“Tell you what I’ll do.” Cyrus swung back around. “I’ll send a carriage for you tonight.”
“No, you’re being too kind.”
“I’m certain Asa will be tired after driving his carriage all day, and maybe this will convince him to come. Please, I insist.”
“You’ve always been a good friend. But I can’t promise—”
“Of course you can’t. Still, I’ll send the carriage.” Cyrus smiled and gave a little bow. Before entering his carriage, he added, “And if Asa and Daniel aren’t home when it arrives, well, there’s nothing stopping you from climbing into it and coming to the party yourself.”
“I understand the sentiment behind the offer, and I appreciate it. But I couldn’t.”
“My invitation stands. I don’t like thinking of you sitting alone in an empty house on Christmas Eve when a short distance away I have a houseful of friends who would be delighted to spend the evening with you. And I’m certain Asa would agree with me.”
With a tip of his hat, Cyrus climbed into his carriage and rode away. Camilla stood on the front porch and watched him leave.
She couldn’t attend the party without Asa, she knew that. But Cyrus’s offer was kind, and his visit timely. The fright she’d felt earlier was gone. In fact, now it did seem silly.
As she walked inside the house, she found herself smiling…wondering what it would be like at Cyrus’s party tonight.
Asa was sliding down death’s gullet, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Thoughts flashed as though they knew the cessation of his earthly thoughts and cares was but a breath away.
Camilla.He hated that they’d parted in anger. He hated that his death would cause her grief. How he wished he could have one last moment with her.
Daniel.Regret came to mind. He wished he’d treated the boy better. It was just that he loved Daniel’s parents—his sister, Maggy, and Eli—so much.
Oh, Eli, when I see you next, what will I say? I’ve let you down, old friend. You entrusted your son to me, and I—
He’d reached the edge.
The sliding stopped. Abruptly.
Something had him by the ankle.
“Hold on there, friend!” The strong male voice came from behind.
Asa peered into the blackness. He was afraid that, if he moved to look over his shoulder, he might wrench the man’s handhold free. That would be ironic, wouldn’t it? So instead Asa called, “Um…thanks! Don’t let go.”
The comment sounded inane, but never having dangled over death before, Asa couldn’t think of anything to say that didn’t involve his predicament.
Then the grip on him slipped, and he began sliding again. The grip tightened, and he stopped.
“Whoa!” Asa shouted. “What’s happening up there?”
“Sorry about that,” said the voice. “I had to reposition myself…to get a better grip to pull you out.”
“I…understand. You gave me a scare, that’s all.”
That was an understatement. Asa’s swollen heart was in his throat, choking him. Hanging upside down, he found it hard to swallow, hard to breathe.
He didn’t want to say anything, but his rescuer seemed to be taking his time.
“Are you still there?” Asa called.
Another inane comment considering someone had him by the ankle, but he had to ask.
“Almost got it,” came back the answer.
Asa slid. A good slide this time, the right direction, one that put distance between him and death. Just a couple of inches, but it was up and that was good.
He felt a hand grab his other ankle—his bad leg—and yank hard. Pain shot up to his hip. Asa clenched his teeth and bit back a cry. But the sliding backward continued, and that’s all that mattered. He was being pulled out.
Emerging into the light and out of the hole, Asa felt reborn. He rolled over onto his back, letting the pain ease, letting his head clear. After several deep breaths, breathing came easier. He inhaled the crisp afternoon air and blinked back the bright day.
“You all right, friend?”
Asa looked up into the face of a younger man with a strong nose and winning smile. He had a frontier appearance about him. His clothes were leather and heavy and worn. He wore a knee-length overcoat. He had a thick black beard.
“Thank you hardly seems enough,” Asa said.
The man grinned, showing a lot of teeth. “In a way, it was almost comical, the way I found you. I happened by and saw a pair of feet sliding down a hole in the ground.”
“The other end of that picture was not as comical, I assure you.”
“Anything broken? Can you stand?” the man asked.
“Let’s give it a try.”
The man moved to his side, hooked an arm under Asa’s arm, and helped him get up. Asa tested his bad leg with a little weight. It hurt, but held.
“This yours?”
Still supporting Asa, the man bent down to retrieve Asa’s cane. As he did, Asa noticed a tattoo on the back of the man’s neck. It depicted a coiled snake.
Chapter 19
“Lucky for you I came along,” Asa’s rescuer said.
“Thank God you came along.”
“You thinkGod had something to do with it?”
Asa took a hard look at the young man. “I believe God has a hand in everything. And I know for certain if you had not fished me out of that hole when you did, I’d be standing in His presence right now.”
They found themselves sitting in a clearing a short distance from the cave entrance, out in the open. It appeared to have once been a camp with large rocks arranged in a circle around a blackened patch of dirt.
The sky was clear. The sun had already started along its descending arc.
After rescuing Asa, the young man helped him sit down. Then he retrieved Asa’s horse and carriage from the road while Asa caught his breath and steadied his nerves. Asa learned that the young man’s name was Robely Epps. He took an instant liking to him.
“Who’s in there?” Epps motioned to the cave.
“My nephew.”
“Does he go in there often?”
Asa hesitated. He didn’t like airing his family business like so much laundry, but the chances of meeting up with Mr. Robely Epps again were remote, and the manhad saved his life. He figured that was worth answers to a few questions.
“We’re from Cumberland, up the road a piece. He’s a runaway. I came looking for him.”
Epps nodded, looking off into the distance as though remembering something. “Sixteen years old?”
Asa smiled. “How did you know?”
Epps grinned. “Tough age. I ran away when I was sixteen. Best thing I ever did. Made a man of me.”
“And your parents? What did they do when you ran away?”
“Father. Ma was dead by then.” He shrugged. “Don’t know what he did. Haven’t talked to him since. He probably bought himself another bottle, beat my brothers, and drank himself to sleep. That’s what he did every day. Doubt he’d change his ways because he had one less boy to beat.”
Asa stared at the ground as he listened. He’d heard similar stories. Over the years he’d lost a number of students to abusive fath
ers who pulled them out of school for one reason or another. A real shame. Some of them—like the man sitting across from him now—could have made something of themselves with an education. Asa recognized intelligence behind Epps’s eyes.
“Does the boy know you’re looking for him?” Epps asked.
“I think he heard me calling to him, all right,” Asa replied. “We can hear his music well enough.”
“So he doesn’t want to be found. Why waste your time?”
Asa looked down. He’d already said more than he was comfortable saying.
But Epps didn’t seem to need it spelled out for him. He stood and stretched his legs. “Do you know these caves? Any other way in or out?”
“Until today, I wasn’t aware the cave existed.”
The pain in Asa’s leg eased to a dull ache. As Asa positioned his cane to get up, Epps took a step forward to help but backed off when Asa signaled he could do it himself.
Epps turned away, as if providing Asa the dignity of not watching him struggle to get up. Epps addressed his comment to the surrounding brush and rock. “Seems to me—and mind you, I don’t mean to be telling you your business—as long as you can hear that thing the boy is playing, you know where he is.”
“True enough,” Asa said, wincing as he stretched his stiff leg.
“In the meantime, a search of the surrounding area would be in order. If there is no other way in or out…” He turned to Asa. “What’s the boy’s name again?”
“Daniel.”
“Then Daniel will have to come out of this hole sooner or later. In that case, it just becomes a matter of time.”
Asa nodded approvingly. The educator in him liked the way Robely Epps reasoned his way through the situation.
“Does the boy have a supply of food?” Epps asked.
“He left the house in a hurry. Took what he could grab in a hurry. Though he did stop at a tavern this morning.”
“Which means he could stay down there through the night, or longer.”
Asa reached for his pocket watch and frowned. With the short winter days, even if he were to head back now, it would be dark before he reached home. And the last thing he wanted to do tonight was guard a hole in the earth when he could be attending Cyrus Gregg’s Christmas party.