My Water Path

by Timothy Joseph

  “I’d be proud to help you, Mayhew,” I said. “You already know that.”

  “There you go,” Moses said. “We’re all behind you. Now give me a smile and a hug.”

  As I headed out of the kitchen, Moses grabbed my arm. “I haven’t seen your card, young man. Hand it here.”

  He looked at it. Mayhew was standing by the kitchen sink, looking out the window. Moses smiled and said, “I’m pleased to see you did well.” He glanced at Mayhew and then back to me; he didn’t want to brag about my grades in front of his grandson. Mayhew headed to the bedroom, and I followed.

  “Papa’s mad at me, ain’t he?”

  “No, he isn’t. He just wants you to study harder and get better grades. I’ll sure help you. It’s important to him you just do your best.”

  “I am doing my best.”

  I scrunched my mouth. “Bull feathers! You are not. And you aren’t fooling me. You’re just as smart as Lucilla and me. You just don’t study as hard.”

  32

  Rescued From Hell

  IT WAS RAINING, and Bess didn’t want to go to town with us. It had been three weeks and we needed supplies. Lucilla and Bess stayed home while the three of us headed out in the boat. While walking to the grocery store, we saw the same two men standing against the light pole who had caused problems before. Once again, Mayhew crumpled against Moses, as if he could disappear into Moses if he stuck close enough.

  By the time we had finished our rounds in the store, the wheeled basket was full, and we each were carrying a bag; Moses was pulling the basket. We were between two buildings, going down an alley toward the boat, when I heard footsteps behind us. I turned around and saw the two men walking toward us very fast.

  “Grandpa, they’re behind us,” I said.

  “Pay no attention, just keep walking.” We picked up speed.

  I looked at Mayhew to my left. He looked terrified. I whispered to him, “If they cause problems, run like hell and get Jacob, okay? Don’t let them grab you. Just run really fast. I’ll stay here with Grandpa.”

  “I’m scared.”

  “Me too, but just remember to run as fast as you can and don’t look back.”

  It didn’t take long for the men to catch up, and they stalked around us like a pair of dogs, blocking our way.

  “Looks like you been shopping,” one of them sneered. “What’s you all got in them sacks for us? Sure does hope it be something we like. Let me see.”

  Moses said, “These are our groceries. I’d be mighty appreciative if you would let us be on our way.”

  “Not until we sees what you gots for us.” One of the men, taller than his friend, reached out and grabbed the bag from Mayhew’s arms. Mayhew looked at Grandpa.

  Moses said, “Please, just let us be.”

  He released the wheeled basket and reached out for the bag. The man struck Moses across the face with the back of his hand. I looked at Mayhew and nodded. Mayhew took off running toward the pier. I had never seen him run that fast.

  The other man made a clucking sound like a chicken and crowed, “Never saw a little black chicken until now.” He clucked again and the taller creep made the same sound. They both laughed as Mayhew disappeared.

  Moses rubbed his bruised cheek. “Take that food and we’ll be on our way.”

  “Oh, no!” the tall man said, swiping my bag and grinning at me. “You gonna run away, too, nigger lover?”

  Anger was blinding me. I wanted to strike out any way I could, and I didn’t care what happened to me. I glanced at Moses. His eyes caught mine and, knowing what I wanted to do, he shook his head. I gritted my teeth and clenched my fist. “You have no right!” I said. “Leave us alone.”

  “We can do any damn thing we want to niggers, you hear, kid?” the tall man said. “They ain’t got no rights. Neither does a nigger lover.”

  Both men were going through the bags, pulling stuff out and tossing it on the ground. Moses grabbed the handle of the basket, turned, and started walking away, gesturing quickly for me to follow. The littler man lunged forward, grabbed the handle, and yanked so hard it pulled Moses over, and as he fell, the man hit Moses hard on his shoulder. Moses fell to the ground, taking the basket with him. I froze in shock and rage.

  “If’n yous knows what’s best for you, nigger, you be staying right where you is, or you be gettin' more of what you deserve,” the littler man spat. His face was twisted with hate.

  He bent over to grab the basket. Without a thought, I struck out and kicked him as hard as I could. My shoe hit him square in the face, and he flew up and back, but caught himself. His hand went to his face as he cursed. The other man dropped the bag and grabbed my arm, spinning me around so he could

  grab my other arm, and pinned them both behind my back. Jacob never showed me what to do in such a situation, and I had no idea how to escape—my mind was racing.

  The man I kicked had blood pouring from his nose. When he pulled his hand away, he saw the blood that coated it, cursed violently, and came at me. “Hold that little nigger-loving prick,” he said. “I’ll shows him who he can kick.”

  He grabbed my hair with one hand and struck me across the face with the other. He tugged my hair so hard, I thought it was all going to come out, and my head jerked up. “Look at me.”

  Looking him directly in the eye and hating everything I saw somehow took the pain away. He swung his fist at my face, and I quickly turned my head in the same direction as Jacob had shown me; just as it struck my face, I kicked out and hit him square in the crotch. He screamed and fell to his knees.

  The tall man holding me seemed to enjoy it all. “You’s a feisty little prick, aren’t you?” He looked at his buddy. “This little nigger lover sure be getting the best of you, big boy. Maybe yous need to have him teach you how to fight.” He laughed.

  The man was lying on the ground, moaning, his hands covering his crotch. “Just wait till I get up,” he groaned. “He’s gonna get his balls kicked clear into his brain.”

  He got to his knees and bent way over in pain. I tried as hard as I could to move, but the grip on me was too strong. The kneeling man put his hands on the ground and began to rise.

  I kicked and squirmed, but to no avail. I knew what was coming. Suddenly, I heard a loud carrack and felt a jarring thud as the tall man’s hands released my arms. I stumbled forward, turned around, and saw Jacob and Max. Jacob had struck the man’s back with a two-by-four. The tall man screamed, then turned to face Jacob. Jacob held the two-by-four with both hands, brought it back, and jammed the end into the man’s stomach. With a loud groan, he fell to the ground, gasping.

  Max strode up and grabbed the other man by the hair. “I believe this be exactly how you held a kid, right? How does you like it, jackass?” He tugged hard. The man yelled. He swung his hand up and struck at Max, but Max saw it coming. He let go and the man fell to his knees. Max kicked his chest, and he fell.

  The tall man was on his knees, gasping for air. Jacob slowly lifted his foot, placed it on the man’s shoulder, and shoved him hard. He, too, fell to the street. Jacob and Max stood over them for a moment, and then Jacob hurried over to Moses. I was already kneeling next to him, along with Mayhew, who was shining with sweat. Moses sat up gingerly. Max came over, and Jacob and Max gently lifted Moses to his feet. We started gathering up the groceries spread all over the street. Bottles were broken and packages open, but we put everything salvageable in the basket. Jacob and Max dragged the two men up against the wall of a building and sat them facing us, our attackers still moaning.

  Jacob looked at them. “Hey, man, stop whining and listen up.” They kept their eyes on the street. Jacob looked at Max. “You think we just need to finish them off? Break a few bones? Make ’em know what hurt really means?”

  Max replied in a very serious tone, “I gots no use for these two, or none like ’em. You don’t have to do a thing—I’ll enjoy beating the crap out of both. I’ll show ’em what hurt is.” He walked over to the leader, the big t
alker, raised his foot, and nudged it against where his shoulder met his neck. “Just give me the word.”

  The men finally looked at Jacob. He had the slab of wood in his hand again. He said, “Tell you what I’ll do. Y’all don’t deserve a break. You beat up an old man, steal his damn food, and beat up a kid—a kid, damn you! You’re worthless. I think you need be taught a lesson by this two-by-four, but I’ll leave it up to this fine ole gentleman as to what teaching you get.” He gestured to Moses. “He’s the judge of this white trash, Max.”

  Max was still furious. “Whatever the judge wants,” he said stiffly. “You knows what the Bible says: ‘An eye for an eye.’”

  The two men looked at Moses.

  Moses regarded the filth sitting on the ground, rubbed his bruised face, and looked at Jacob. “Sometimes the sword is mightier than the word, and I believe you showed them just so. But there’s been enough of that.” He rubbed his face again, looked at my face, leaned over, and inspected my bruise. He

  gently cupped my chin. “Thank you for your bravery. I’m mighty thankful you were here, and I’m sorry you were hurt because of me.”

  Jacob’s eyes softened. “I done forgot. Jory, you have a say, too. What would you like us to do?”

  The men looked at me. “I want to hurt them really bad,” I said. I looked up at Moses. “But Moses is a better judge than I am.”

  Jacob said, “Max, you heard the verdict.”

  Max twisted the heel of his boot under the tall man’s chin and pushed hard. The man grabbed his boot. “Go ahead, smartass!” he snarled. “Just try somethin’ and sees what happens.” The man dropped his hands and gagged.

  “Max!” Jacob said. “You heard what Moses and Jory said. Let up. Besides, you’re gettin’ your boot dirty.”

  “Not until I hear these two apologize.” He let up some on the pressure to the man’s neck.

  “I’m sorry,” the tall man gagged.

  “I couldn’t hear you,” Max said.

  “I’m sorry!” he repeated.

  Max looked at the other man.

  “I’m sorry, really sorry.”

  Jacob went over, put his hand on Max’s shoulder, and pulled him away. Holding the two-by-four, he squatted down in front of the men. “Look at me, you worthless pieces of crap.”

  They looked at Jacob with newfound fear in their eyes. “Give me your wallet.” The tall man took it out of his back pocket and handed it to Jacob. Jacob stood, looked around at the broken and spilled containers. He took out some bills, folded them, and tossed the wallet back to the man. “You just bought yourself some groceries—you just need to mop them up or eat ’em off the street. This should cover the damage.”

  He handed me the money. “Use this to replace the food.” I took the bills and nodded. Beside me, Moses was silent.

  Jacob faced the two men. “Look at me and listen good.” They looked at him. “You ever touch or threaten these people again, or come anywhere near them, Max and I will find you and feed you in pieces to the catfish in the river, you hear me? You ain’t never gonna see the light of another day.”

  The men nodded. Jacob grabbed the basket, and Max carried two torn bags as we headed toward the boat. Moses walked between Mayhew and me, and we each took one of his hands. He squeezed—we squeezed. I leaned forward, turned toward Mayhew, and Mayhew looked at me, a haunted look in his eyes that frightened me. But I smiled, nodded, and gave him a thumbs-up, telling him he did good. He smiled and gave me a thumbs-up, too.

  On the way home in the boat, Moses said, surprisingly lighthearted, “Well, I suppose with these bruises we have, we won’t be able to keep this from Bess, now will we?”

  “Guess maybe we could say a barge ran us down, but we’d have to bang up the boat a bit, you think?”

  He laughed. “Not a bad idea, son.”

  33

  Not to Worry

  IT OCCURRED TO ME THAT I HAD NOT called Stewart in many months. Mayhew and I were helping Jacob and Max and I told them I had to go run an errand. I went to the phone booth outside the drugstore and made a collect call to Dad’s store. Stewart answered and accepted the charges.

  “Hi, Stewart.”

  “Jory! Good God, are you okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine.”

  “You need to tell me where you are. Do you realize the police are still looking for you? I told them you’re okay, but they want to know where you are living, and so do I.”

  I was already beginning to regret calling him. “I can’t tell you, Stewart. If I do, they’ll come get me and send me to that awful place. I’m just not living there. I have this wonderful family and I have a sister and brother. I’m in school and have some really nice friends. I’m not leaving here Stewart, never. I love it here.”

  “But if that family wants you, we can have the State put you there legally. They will do that, and it will all be fine.”

  “The State won’t ever do that.”

  “Sure they will. They will be glad to have another family willing to be foster parents, I promise.”

  “Stewart, I’m living with a grandpa and grandma who took in their two grandkids because their mom and dad are bad people. The dad is in prison and the mom ran off. The cops are looking for her. The grandparents are really old, Stewart, and the State would never let me live here, never. I’m not leaving, not until I’m old enough to come home.”

  “What am I supposed to tell the police?”

  “Tell them to stop looking for me, and that you talked to me and I’m fine.”

  “Can I talk to the grandpa? Just to know everything is okay?”

  “They don’t have a phone, and, anyway, you don’t need to. You know I’m fine.”

  “Jory, I’m worried about you.”

  “Don’t be. I love it here, honestly.”

  “What if I can talk Madge into having you live with us? What about that? I might be able to.”

  “I don’t want to live anywhere else, Stewart, not even with you.”

  There was a pause. “Are you okay otherwise? Do you need any money? I can send you some money if you need it. I won’t tell the police the address, I promise.”

  “I don’t need any money; I still have plenty Dad kept at home. How’s the store? Is the house okay?”

  “Everything is fine, Jory. The house is locked up tight. Everyone is just worried about you and wants to know you’re okay.”

  “Just tell everyone I’m doing great and I’m really happy, okay?”

  “Okay. Can I come see you? Meet you somewhere? You have my word I won’t let on where you’re at.”

  “I don’t know, Stewart. I’m afraid. Not now, anyway. Let me talk to my grandpa about it.”

  “I’d really like to meet him. He sounds like a good fellow.”

  “Maybe sometime. I have to go. I’m learning all about how to repair diesel engines.”

  “Diesel engines. My goodness.”

  “Bye, Stewart. Thanks for taking care of everything for my dad and me.”

  “Bye, Jory. Please be careful.”

  “Sure will. Bye.” Hanging up, I thought about it for a moment, and decided not to ask Moses about meeting Stewart somewhere—too risky.

  34

  Only Words

  IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL SPRING AFTERNOON. We were all sitting on the shore and Mayhew and I had made hotdog sticks for everyone. Moses had a small fire burning in the rock-circled fire pit we used for many cookouts. Bess had the hotdogs and fixings ready when Lucilla came running out of the woods with a small piece of branch in her hand.

  “Look at this Grandpa.” She stuck it out and we all looked. It was a cicada, fixed firmly to the branch. The bug was split down the middle and the adult was emerging from its prison cell.

  “That’s a cicada,” Moses said. “I’ve never seen one come out of its case like this. We should watch.”

  Lucilla said, “I think this is called metaphoris.”

  I said, “Yup, it’s metamorphosis, all right. I’ve never seen thi
s either.”

  “Yeah, metamorphosis. That’s what I meant,” Lucilla murmured, captivated by the bug.

  Moses looked at Mayhew. “Okay, Mayhew, can you tell us the steps an insect takes to become an adult?”

  Mayhew said proudly, “Sure. It starts as an egg, changes to a larva, a pupa, which is what is attached to the branch, and it comes out as an adult.”

  “Very good, son.”

  “It’s called emergence,” Lucilla added.

  We watched the adult complete its entrance into the world of air and light. It hung on to the hardened case. Lucilla took it to a tree and placed it carefully on a low branch to let it dry its wings and fly away.

  We sat by the fire as the sun began to set, munching on hotdogs and grilled sweet corn from our garden. I was beside Moses and asked, “How does the cicada know when seventeen years are up so it can come out?”

  “I rightly don’t know,” he said. “Mother Nature is just very hard to understand sometimes, but I think she means it to be that way.”

  I turned toward him. “Why?”

  “Most everything about Mother Nature is simply a mystery. Oh, we can learn things about her, but we can never fully comprehend the wonders of this world. Everything, especially us people, are truly unfathomable. The depth of our complexity is enormous, and we only have mere words to use to explain, and they just will never do the job properly.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said. I loved it when he went on and on about life. I loved listening to him, and I never wanted him to stop talking.

  “You see, words only put a name on things, and they are feeble at best. Words cover the surface of reality. There are many layers to what makes us us, and what makes the cicada a cicada. When you look at a beautiful flower, just look at it and simply let it be a beautiful flower. Take in all you observe without words. Sense it for all it is, not what we name it. ‘Flower’ is only a word, but a flower is not a word. It exists in many layers of reality, including color, shape, smell, size, complexity, beauty. When you pull everything about it into you without trying to define or describe it, you will sense true awe about it. You’ll feel the wonder of it, and its meaning will come to pass. Mother Nature will silently communicate herself to you, and you know what?”