by Crowe (epub)
Anna Lee thought that Mr. Samuels looked harried, as if he had lost something valuable and could not find it. He rose later in the day, sometimes she had been getting lunch ready before she saw him stumble from his coach, and went often went days at a time without shaving, which was something the Reverend could not fathom. The knees of his suit were stained with grass and dirt. Even the satin robe that he wore on occasion, the one he said was a gift from the Sultan of Persia, looked threadbare and worn. Anna Lee couldn’t imagine that the thought of getting married was what had been causing Mr. Samuels so much distress, though she couldn’t offer a guess at what the real problem might be.
Regardless, the less time she had to spend with Mr. Samuels, the better. She wasn’t in love with him and would never marry him, no matter how long her stepmother wanted her to think about it before making her decision. She had her own chores to do to keep her busy and help take her mind off of her predicament while she waited for Johnny to return.
Plus, some animal had dug up holes all over the farm.
“Excuse me, my dear.”
Anna Lee spun around, cursing for letting her guard down. Mr. Samuels had a way of turning up when you least expected him, which unsettled her. A lot. Today he looked as rough as she had ever seen him. She sensed and air of desperation about him. His eyes reminded her of an animal caught in a snare, darting side to side and looking for a way out.
He stank, too.
“Have I shown you these?” Mr. Samuels asked, digging deep into his trouser pocket. Anna Lee watched him pull his hand from his pocket and open it before her. “Do you know what these are?”
“Gray hairs?”
“Gray hairs,” Mr. Samuels chuckled. At least she doesn’t recognize them, he thought. Must’ve never seen the boy with his trousers down.
“No, my dear. These are pieces of pure silver. They are spun into the finest threads by my legion of Persian workers. These are but a sample of the threads they use to craft the most stunning’ garments the world has ever seen.”
Anna Lee looked closer. Nope, she thought, still look like animal hairs to me. Goat, maybe.
Johnny had decided to come up the back way, hoping to catch Anna Lee alone on the hill - on their hill - before going on up to the house and asking the Reverend for his daughter’s hand in marriage. Most of it was that he wanted her to be the first person he saw since returning from the war, though some small part of him needed to know that she had in fact waited for him like she had promised before he tromped into the Reverend’s house and made a fool of himself. He sat alone atop the hill, feeling the chill in the October air. He waited as long as he could, wishing the sun would in its path across the sky.
Probably still doin’ chores, he told himself, soaking up what he could of the afternoon sun. It did little to warm his body or put his restless mind at ease. Guess that’s one of the drawbacks of havin’ all those thoughts in your head, he thought. Hard to get ‘em to calm down and be still. There was something else as well, a gnawing in his gut that wouldn’t go away. When he couldn’t stand it any longer, Johnny got to his feet and dusted off the seat of his britches with his good hand. I’ll just head up the way and peek on over at Green Hill. Just make sure that everythin’s all right.
Johnny crossed into the orchard that ran alongside the Reverend’s property. Somethin’s been diggin’ up the place, he thought, seeing the holes scattered throughout adjacent field. Movement at the far end of the field caught his eye and Johnny stepped out of the trees to get a better look. He recognized Anna Lee at once, even with her back to him, and his heart leapt in his chest. He raised his good arm in a wave and was about to call to her when he saw the man standing next to her. He stood on the other side of the girl; Johnny couldn’t see him very well but he knew that the stranger wasn’t the Reverend. This man was too thick to be the Reverend. Also, the Reverend had a full head of hair when Johnny had left the Valley, this fella was as bald as an egg. He might have been a businessman visiting the farm, judging by the suit that he wore. Still, something wasn’t right about the scene, something about the way Anna Lee held herself wrapped cold bands around Johnny’s heart.
“What would you say to a wedding dress, spun entirely out of silver?”
Anna Lee could tell by the look on Mr. Samuels’s face that this was meant to impress her. So, this is it, she thought. He’s goin’ to force my hand right now by askin’ me to marry him.
“Oh,” she said. “That’d be lovely. It’s just that… well…”
Mr. Samuels looked taken aback, his reaction almost comical. A little too put on, Anna Lee thought.
“I know it’s only silver,” he said in mock offense, “but it is very valuable, I assure you.”
“Oh, I’m sure it is,” said Anna Lee, trying to find a way out of the conversation.
“Well,” Mr. Samuels huffed, “I know it doesn’t look like much here in the palm of my hand…” Oh, Lord, he thought, how much money do they have around here? “Perhaps the thought of a silver wedding dress means nothing to you, but most women would absolutely die for one.”
“I think you’ll find I’m not like most women, Mr. Samuels,” Anna Lee said. “I believe there are things much more valuable than silver and gold in this world. Things like patience and honesty. And keeping to your word.”
So, that’s her game, thought Saul. She wants me to marry her before she’ll cough up the fortune.
Johnny had just started up the field toward Anna Lee when a bolt of pain shot through his left arm.
“Not now,” he said, doubling over. The pain was excruciating. Whatever was going on up the field would have to wait, Johnny wasn’t about to let his golden arm ruin his homecoming. Johnny ducked his head and dashed back into the cover of the orchard, hoping that he hadn’t been seen yet.
He flopped down, leaning his back against a cherry tree. He could still see Anna Lee and the stranger, which was good; he’d know if they had seen him and could get away if they came to investigate. It looked to Johnny as though they hadn’t, the two had been busy examining something in the stranger’s hand when the pain had started and were now deep in discussion. Johnny looked down at his left arm, expecting it to be laughing at him, but it hung limp at his side.
The pain flared again and Johnny realized that it wasn’t coming from his arm at all, it surged from his chest and traveled down his left arm. Sweat broke out on his forehead and the color drained from his face. He had trouble drawing a breath as though some invisible hands were squeezing the life out of him. Johnny was alone and in serious trouble. He opened his mouth to call for Anna Lee but the words died on his lips.
“Yes,” Mr. Samuels cooed, leaning in close. Anna Lee fought back the urge to wretch at the smell of him. “There are things in this world more precious than silver and gold.” Though a sizeable fortune is pretty precious in its own right.
Anna Lee started to back away, but Mr. Samuels caught her around the small of the back with his empty hand and held the silver hairs under her nose with the other.
“Please,” he said, “take one.”
Anna Lee reached out a trembling hand and took one of the hairs. Mr. Samuels smiled and shot the hand back into his pocket, depositing the remainder of the hairs.
“Tonight, when you’re gettin’ ready for bed, weave that thread into your hair. A token of…” His words trailed off as Mr. Samuels, Anna Lee would never call him Saul, leaned in kissed her lips.
She kissed him. On the lips.
What sounded like a gunshot rang in Johnny’s head. The pressure in his chest was white hot. Johnny uttered a groan that sent spit flying out of his mouth and down his chin. Like a string of tobacco juice, he thought. It was the last thing that Johnny thought before he blacked out, propped against the side of the cherry tree.
“What was that?” Anna Lee asked, pulling herself away from Mr. Samuels
. She looked across the field toward the orchard, both because that was where she thought the noise had come from and because it would turn her away from this revolting man who had just had the audacity to kiss her. She tried to fight back the tears of anger, but didn’t expect to win that battle for long. Not here, she thought. I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.
“I didn’t hear anythin’.”
“You didn’t?” Anna Lee asked, clearing her throat. “I could have sworn I heard somethin’. Almost like a gunshot.”
“My dear,” said Mr. Samuels, grabbing her shoulders and spinning her back around to face him, “if there had been a gunshot, I think we both would have heard it.” Look at her, he thought. She’s almost crying tears of joy.
“I… well… I should be goin’,” Anna Lee said, rushing off toward the house.
Caught a break, thought Saul. As much as it would have pained him to do so, had been about to give up his treasure hunt for lost. He had even started to think that there was no fortune. Getting the girl out here alone had been his last attempt to find out what he could, maybe even trick her into revealing the location of the money. Now, he was more convinced than ever that only was the family as loaded as he thought they were, maybe even so more than he had thought, but with a little more patience he would have the money and the girl to boot.
It may not be so bad having a wife around, he thought, running his tongue over his bottom lip. Not much of a kisser, though. We’ll have to work on that. He laughed out loud, making his way back to the coach, digging at the seat of his pants as he went.
Pump. Hiss.
Pump. Hiss.
Johnny was cold and his back ached.
Pump. Hiss.
Pump. Hiss.
Somewhere close by, a machine was running. Johnny could feel his head pulsing in time with its rhythm.
Pump. Hiss.
Pump. Hiss.
Johnny opened his eyes. His first thought was that he was blind, and while that should have alarmed him, it didn’t. He felt numb and hollow inside, had he in fact gone blind, he would have accepted this condition without fuss or bother. But he wasn’t blind. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, and when they did, he saw the house across the field at the top of the hill. He was still in the orchard, his back propped against the cherry tree. The night sky was overcast and the moon offered no light.
Pump. Hiss.
Pump. Hiss.
“Good thing you managed to make it over here,” said Scratch’s gruff voice. Johnny rolled to his side to try and find where the voice had come from. The intense pain was gone from his chest and shoulder, replaced by an itching that ran the length of his breastbone. In another time and place he might have wondered about this change, but not now. Turning, Johnny found Mr. Scratch sitting next to him, his back against the cherry tree as well, smoking his pipe.
“Not welcome on the Reverend’s land,” Scratch said, nodding toward the field. “If you’d gone down out there, I couldn’t have helped you.”
“I don’t want your help,” Johnny said, trying to stand. His head swam, forcing him to use the tree for support. He was unsteady, but he was on his feet.
Scratch surveyed the boy leaning against the tree trunk. “Fine,” he said. “Easy for you to say now that I’ve fixed you all up. Do you know what would have happened to you if I hadn’t come along when I did?”
“I don’t care,” Johnny said, the words spilling out of his mouth on their own accord.
“You would have died. Died from a broken heart. Can you believe that? You’d have came all this way back home, only to die of a broken heart right here on the very edge of the Reverend’s field. Now that’d be one sad way to end your story, wouldn’t it?”
Johnny made no reply.
“It just so happens that I was passing through these parts and found you out here all alone in this pitiful state. So, I took it upon myself to fix you up right.” Scratch stood, brushed the seat of his pants. “And now you say you don’t want my help. That’s some gratitude.”
“I don’t want it,” Johnny muttered.
“Yeah, you’ve said that before, but you’ve done fine with that head I gave you, haven’t you?”
Johnny made no reply.
“That’s right. You went and filled it up proper. If you’ll remember, you didn’t want it, either, did you? Well,” Scratch continued, “when I saw you laying here I knew I had to help you out. So I did. Listen, you hear that?”
Johnny listened. All he heard was the same annoying rhythm that had awakened him.
Pump. Hiss.
Pump. Hiss.
Scratch grabbed Johnny by the shoulders with his hairy hands and stood him upright. “Hear it now? I got rid of that broken heart of yours and put in a new one. Iron. Steam driven, fueled from within by a clever bit of magic ---”
“I don’t want it,” Johnny repeated.
“--- by a perpetually burning --- what? What did you say to me? I thought we’ve been through this already.”
Johnny looked Scratch right in the eyes. They glowed red in the dark night, reminding Johnny of his dream. Like the maelstrom, he thought, A whirlpool of lava at the bottom of the trunk. Had he been in his right mind, the thought would have frightened him, but Johnny was anything but in his right mind. He’d lost all sense of sanity when he saw Anna Lee kissing another man in the field. Johnny leaned forward, his nose inches from Mr. Scratch’s, nice and close so there could be no mistaking what he said next.
“I said I don’t want it.”
All at once, the night grew darker, shrouding them in shadow. The orchard became still, as if holding its breath, dreading what was to come.
“Now you listen here,” Scratch growled. His back was no longer hunched forward and he stood tall. His eyes, lit from within by some infernal fire, became pinpoints of light, rising high overhead. Scratch’s skin burst open and hung in rags off of his growing mass. “All I’ve done is help you. You’re the one who asked for it. Asked me to save you.”
A shiver ran through the body growing before Johnny’s eyes, casting off the disguise that he recognized as Mr. Scratch. Now that I think about, it wasn’t a very good disguise at all, was it? Guess I always knew he wasn’t a man, not really. “Well,” Johnny said, surprised at how calm his voice was in spite of what was going on in front of him, “I was wrong.”
“You were wrong?” The ground shook and thunder boomed in the sky. The voice came from high above Johnny’s head now. “Do you think I care about that now, after all the times I’ve saved your skin, that you think it was wrong?” He felt the menace radiating from the giant silhouette standing before him. “I want what’s mine!”
Johnny was not moved; it seemed as though he had lost the capacity to feel. To be afraid. To care what happened anymore. To love.
“I take it all back.”
All around them, the orchard burst into flames and for the first time, Johnny saw Scratch’s true form, illuminated in the firelight. It was impressive, but not at all what he had in mind. There were great big horns and giant hooves, but no pointy little beard and certainly no pitchfork. Shadowy figures danced in and out of the flames, their black claws gleaming in the firelight. They clicked and clacked their strange language, carrying flames in their cupped hands and setting fire to other parts of the orchard.
“You don’t get to ‘take it back’. I am the one who has given. If anyone’s going to do any taking back, it’ll be me. I made you strong. I made you swift and I made you smart.”
“And you’ve made me numb.”
“That’s right,” Scratch bellowed from high above. “I’ve made you cold and callous. You’re no longer constrained by human emotions like love, empathy, or righteousness. You feel nothing! I did that! All those dirty tricks you pulled, all the stuff that you
have learned… I did that to you. I have made you in my image!”
Laying it all out like that, Johnny saw the pattern and it made sense. Scratch had been toying with him all along, pulling the strings and forcing Johnny deeper and deeper down the dark path that led to this moment in time and this very place --- the edge of the blazing orchard. Only he didn’t force you to do anythin’, did he? You went along with it and didn’t think about where it would all lead, did you? Johnny knew that was his conscience speaking, but it sounded a lot like Grandpa Crowe. Still, there was one piece of the puzzle missing.
“Why?”
All around, the imps stopped their destructive dance and stared at Johnny. Even Scratch seemed taken aback. He stared at Johnny and blinked his fiery eyes, once, twice, then he bent low and dropped to one knee, as if to propose some unholy marriage.
“To lead my army, of course.” Scratch spoke like an adult explaining why sometimes he had to spank to a little child. “I created it just for you. I molded you to be the leader that they need you to be. I made you strong and gave you a sense of pride. And I made you swift and taught you what it means to do a job, and do it well, and not stop until you’re finished. I made you smart so that you could learn and reason and anticipate, and you used that knowledge to help your friends back at Manassas, didn’t you? Doesn’t that count for something?”
Johnny looked away from the Devil and into the fires blazing around him. The black imps watched him, licking their lips with their serpentine tongues and clicking their little black claws.
Scratch reached out his hand and gently lifted Johnny’s head so that the two were looking eye-to-eye once more. “I’ve suffered and waited a long time, Johnny, and I know that you have, too. People don’t understand us. They shun us and don’t think about how it hurts us. And it does hurt, Johnny. You know it does. You’re just like me, Johnny, and that’s why I chose you.”
Yes, but I’m past feelin’ hurt now, aren’t I? Didn’t you just say that you made me this way?
