The Nine Pound Hammer

by John Claude Bemis

  Nel smiled and draped his arm over Ray’s shoulder.

  The Everetts returned late in the afternoon. They had taken most of the orphans into town, making arrangements with a local parson. The children would be housed in his church until they could be carefully placed with good families.

  Ray stood with Redfeather, gazing out on the swirling river. The Kwakiutl boy was still weak from his injury, but Nel’s tonics had nearly restored him to health.

  “Poor Seth …” Redfeather brushed at his eyes.

  Ray clapped a hand to Redfeather’s shoulder. “Seth realized that he was wrong. He didn’t understand who the Gog really was until it was too late. But he tried to protect me … in the end.”

  After a few moments, he nodded up to the pilothouse, where Buck and the Pirate Queen stood together talking. The Pirate Queen had a strange, gentle smile on her face.

  “That’s an odd pair,” Redfeather chuckled, wiping his knuckles across his nose. “I could never imagine Buck being in love with anybody.”

  “Or anyone in love with him,” Ray laughed. It was peculiar to see the two of them together—the gruff cowboy and the surly pirate.

  “I wish I could go with them,” Redfeather said.

  “Who?” Ray asked.

  “The pirates,” Redfeather said. “Now that looks like a fun life.”

  “You don’t know the Pirate Queen.” Ray smirked, looking back over his shoulder at her and Buck.

  “Well then, what are we going to do?” Redfeather asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Cornelius T. Carter’s Mystifying Medicine Show and Tabernacle of Tachycardial Talent,” Redfeather mimicked in his best Nel roar before returning to his own voice. “The medicine show’s over. So what now?”

  Ray shrugged. He had never quite felt a part of the show, but he would miss watching the performances. He’d miss the excitement of preparing for another extravaganza when they pulled into a new town. He’d miss the tired but cheerful sense of contentment as the Ballyhoo packed up to leave. He’d miss … Conker and Jolie.

  “And then there’s these kids.” Redfeather nodded to the children. Sally was deep in a game of pirates and marshals with the group of orphans. “Mister Nel tell you why he’s taking them with us?”

  Ray shook his head. He had an idea, a hope, but he wanted to hear it from Nel first.

  After a few moments, Redfeather’s voice broke Ray from his reverie. “Hey, Ray, do you still have my uncle’s copper?” he asked.

  Ray looked at him curiously. “Didn’t you … ? I gave it to … to Conker, before we were attacked.”

  “Oh,” Redfeather said. “It’s okay. I don’t really need it. It’s just …”

  “Something from your home,” Ray finished for him.

  They grew quiet and watched the river.

  “Ray.” He turned to see Si walking across the deck toward him. Her eyes had dark circles under them, but she managed a smile.

  As Si and Ray watched, Redfeather went over to the children. They stopped their battle to gather around Redfeather. Sally led them in a pleading chorus until he took down a gasoline lamp, dipped his fingers inside, and formed a ball of flames around his hand. The children squealed and cheered.

  Si looked up at Ray. “What about the Machine?”

  “What do you mean?” Ray asked.

  “I’ve been talking to Buck.” Si traced a finger across her tattooed knuckles. “Conker … killed the Gog. But the Machine is still out there. Maybe if we could find it—”

  “The Machine is hidden in the Gloaming. Even with your hand, we could never enter in there unless we knew how to cross.”

  “You mean like how your father and Nel took animal forms?”

  Ray nodded. “And even then, how would we destroy it? Without the Nine Pound Hammer … without Conker.”

  Ray sighed, but Si linked her arm through his and nodded. “You’ll learn how to cross, Ray. You’ll find a way to do it. And then, somehow, we’ll destroy that wicked Machine.” She pulled him gently. “Come on.”

  They walked together until they reached the stairs down to the Snapdragon’s galley. Music wafted from below, along with the smells of one of Etienne Beauvais’s famous feasts. Ray’s thoughts lingered on the future as they descended belowdecks. There would be time for figuring out what lay ahead another day. Tonight, they would enjoy one last meal with the rowdy pirates.

  * * *

  The following morning, Ray stood on the riverbank with the orphans and the remainder of the medicine show, to wave goodbye to the Snapdragon. Piglet waved next to Big Jimmie. Hobnob’s glowing hair rustled in the morning air while he shouted promises to visit Ray one day.

  As the Pirate Queen climbed the stairs to the pilothouse, she scanned the riverbank until she found Ray. With only the quickest flicker of a smile, she headed to the wheel, barking orders for Lamprey to get everyone to work. Mister Lamprey’s salty curses floated over the river as the Snapdragon chugged its way south.

  Mister Everett had the Ballyhoo turned around to set off at dawn. Its locomotive faced the rising sun as it blew the whistle and set off. Rumbling across the countryside east of the Mississippi, deep green forests gave way to golden, rolling farmland. The orphan children who had come on board the train found rooms to share. Sally and a girl named Renny took Conker’s room to be close to Ray. Ray thought that Conker would like that.

  Ray stuck his head into Nel’s car. Redfeather was helping Nel tie herbs into bundles for drying. The old pitchman puffed on his briarwood pipe as he worked and hummed a fiddle tune. Marisol played with a copperhead that Redfeather had found for her. She looked content, at peace. Si and Buck had a hand of cards spread on the table.

  “You wanted to see me?” Ray asked as he entered.

  Nel looked over his shoulder, his dark, worn hands finishing a final knot. He motioned for Ray to sit down.

  “I wanted to speak to you all together,” Nel began as he leaned back in his chair. “We haven’t had much of a chance to talk.”

  Peg Leg Nel looked around at each of their faces soberly. He sighed before continuing. “You know I’m not planning on recommencing with the medicine show. Redfeather, Si, and Marisol, you are all sterling performers. You love the stage. I just want you to know that if you want to follow that ambition, well, you certainly don’t need my permission to—”

  “We don’t want to,” Redfeather said.

  “We’ve been talking,” Marisol said, looking from Redfeather to Nel. “We’re staying with you, Nel. We don’t want to leave.”

  “Can’t pass us off that easily,” Si joked.

  Buck chuckled, and Nel relaxed into a careworn smile. The pitchman said, “I’m glad. I’m glad, if that’s what you really desire.”

  “We do,” Redfeather said.

  “Well, then I have an idea,” Nel said. “One that I know Buck shares. For a long time, I’ve tried to protect you all from the Gog, from the outside world, to hide you away, in a manner of speaking. But now with these recent events, I think it’s time I return to an old path I never thought I’d travel again. Just because the Gog is gone doesn’t mean the Ramblers are no longer needed. I want to restore the order in what limited way I can. I want to see that the ways of the Ramblers are not forgotten.

  “I’ve lost many of my own powers, but that may not matter. One cannot really train to be a Rambler. There is no school, if you see? It is a path one walks in life and requires little more than a deep attention to the world around you. Many have walked this path without ever calling themselves a Rambler.”

  Excitement swelled in Ray’s chest, and he could see that Si, Marisol, and Redfeather were having the same reaction. They sat forward in their chairs, eager smiles lighting their faces.

  “You four have extraordinary gifts,” Nel said. “And with these other children accompanying us now, the Ramblers have a future. I can’t make you Ramblers. That’s a path only you can choose. I could guide you, of course. Help you find those who c
an pass on hoodoo lore. But any countenance is nothing without the wilderness. It is there that you will find how to enter the … oh, well, it’s all too much to explain just now, and I’m getting ahead of myself.” Nel rubbed his callused hands together. “What do you think?”

  “Where would we go?” Marisol asked.

  “We’ll have to give up the train life,” Nel answered. “The Everetts are going to move on, which I think Ox has been eager to do for some time. There is a place I visited once long ago in the southern highlands, deep within the Appalachians. Shuckstack Mountain. It’s a special place, a protected wilderness. I’ve longed to return to those ancient mountains. The six of us and the other children will make a new home.”

  Si and Redfeather and Marisol burst into excited conversation with one another. But Nel seemed to sense Ray’s hesitation, and he narrowed his eyes curiously. “What is it, Ray?”

  The others quieted and turned to him.

  Ray said, “It’s just … what about my father? I know that I’ve got to take care of Sally, but I’ve been considering going to look for him. To see if I can discover what happened to him.”

  This was only partially true. Ray did want to find his father, but he also wanted to find Jolie. He had to know what had happened to her. He wanted to know that she was all right.

  “He was a Rambler,” Buck said, his gravelly voice low and comforting. “If Li’l Bill’s still alive, he’ll find you.”

  Ray thought about this. He did not understand why his father had not found him yet. But maybe there were reasons. Maybe there had not been enough time. Ray would have to trust that he would see him again.

  Nel stood. “Well, we’ve got lots to do, lots to prepare. But not tonight. You need your rest.”

  The four consented and headed for their sleeping car.

  “Good night,” Si, Redfeather, and Marisol whispered as they went into their separate rooms.

  The familiar hallway was cluttered with Nel’s boxes. Ray stepped around them to reach Sally’s room. Ray found Sally asleep next to Renny, with a book open on her stomach. Her lamp was still lit, swaying overhead with the movement of the train.

  Ray gingerly took the book from Sally’s hands. The Incunabula of Wandering.

  With a smile, Ray closed the book and placed it on the top of a stack of Si’s books by Sally’s bedside. He bent back over Sally and kissed her cheek.

  As he stood over her, he tried to imagine the new home, Shuckstack, where he and Sally and the others would soon live. They would learn to be Ramblers. They were learning to be Ramblers.

  Ray turned out the lamp and gently closed Sally’s door.

  My deepest gratitude goes out to my wife, Amy, whose unwavering belief and support propelled me through this journey. My daughter, Rose, was too young to help type but shared many walks in the woods with me. My parents, Bill and Claudia, have always encouraged me to pursue what I love. Enormous thanks go out to my critique group—Jennifer Harrod, Stephen Messer, and Jen Wichman—talented writers who helped shape this book in so many ways. For their insightful advice, I am happily indebted to David Andrews, Mike Bauldree, Greg Hanson, Noah Hoffman, Karen Morse, and Jason Walker. Special thanks to Peter Kramer and Susan Gladin for providing me with an inspiring space to write on their farm. I’ve been fortunate to work with an extraordinary team: Josh and Tracey Adams of Adams Literary, who put their energy and skill behind the novel, and Jim Thomas, whose thoughtful and eagle-eyed editing brought out the real magic of The Nine Pound Hammer.

  John Claude Bemis grew up in rural eastern North Carolina, where he loved reading the Jack tales and African American trickster stories, as well as fantasy and science fiction classics. A songwriter and musician in an Americana roots band, John found inspiration for his fiction in old-time country and blues music and the Southern folklore at its heart.

  John lives with his family in Hillsborough, North Carolina, and teaches the books that he loves to elementary school students. Visit John’s Web site at www.johnclaudebemis.com.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2009 by John Claude Bemis

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

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  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Bemis, John Claude.

  The nine pound hammer / John Claude Bemis. — 1st ed.

  p. cm.—(Clockwork dark; bk. 1)

  Summary: Drawn by the lodestone his father gave him years before, twelve-year-old orphan Ray travels south, meeting along the way various characters from folklore who are battling against an evil industry baron known as the Gog.

  eISBN: 978-0-375-85386-9

  [1. Fantasy—Fiction. 2. Orphans—Fiction. 3. Brothers and sisters—Fiction.

  4. Folklore—Fiction.] I. Title.

  PZ7.B4237Nin 2009

  [Fic]—dc22

  2008022503

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  First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.

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