Read Online Elijah of Buxton by Christopher Paul Curtis - Free Book Online Page B

extra work ’cause he was saving up enough money to buy his wife and daughter and son out of America. That made him and Mrs. Holton a first-prize team.
    Mr. Leroy was happy ’cause since Mrs. Holton and her children came to Buxton he didn’t have to hire hisself out to none of the white farmers up ’round Chatham, and she was happy ’cause till her husband could escape again, she needed someone to do the heavy work ’round her home.
    Mr. Leroy near ’bout built her house all by hisself, and since he was the best carpenter in the Settlement, she’d paid him to put all kinds of fancy pillars and posts and gewgaws and curlycues everywhere on the outside of her house. She’d draw him up a picture of something she remembered or thought up, and he’d make it outta wood in no time atall.
    All Mr. Leroy’s work had folks saying that Mrs. Holton was gonna win the Most Beautiful Home in Buxton Contest this year. That was something that didn’t sit too good with our next-door neighbor, Mrs. Highgate, ’cause she’d won it for the pass five years one after the ’nother and waren’t particular pleased ’bout someone else aiming at her prize.
    I got to Mrs. Holton’s house and knocked on the door to pay my respects.
    â€œEvening, Eli.”
    â€œEvening, Mrs. Holton.”
    â€œFollow your ears. He way out back.”
    â€œThank you, Mrs. Holton. Ma said to tell you she asked ’bout you.”
    â€œTell your ma and pa I axed ’bout ’em too.”
    â€œYes, ma’am.”
    There was a kind of music to him when Mr. Leroy was felling trees. From ’bout a mile off it sounded like one person playing and all you could hear was a steady, regular
crack!
sound that rolled toward you like it was being carried on the wind. That was the axe biting into the tree.
    Once you got a bit closer, it started sounding like there were two folks playing music and you could hear something that sounded like
CHUH!
coming from Mr. Leroy. That was his breath getting squozed outta him once he hit the tree.
    If you got close enough that you could see the sweat flying off of him, it sounded like someone else was joining in and you could hear a sound like
hoong!
That waren’t nothing but him sucking air back in till he got set to swing again.
    If you finally got close enough that you started getting nervous that the axe or them wood chips he sent flying were gonna hit you, you’d hear a sound that went
ka!
which was the sound of the axe getting pulled back out of the tree.
    The harder and longer Mr. Leroy worked the more regular and music-ish the sound he made got. So when he first started, it would sound like
crack! CHUH, hoong, ka, crack! CHUH, hoong, ka, crack! CHUH, hoong, ka.
    But once he’d been going at it for a while, he got swinging faster and faster till he sounded like
crack!CHUHhoongkacrack! CHUHhoongkacrack!CHUHhoongka
… so’s he went from being music-ish to being machine-ish, which is what the Preacher said Mr. Leroy was. He said he’d heard Mr. Leroy’s heart beating in his chest and that ’stead of sounding like it was made out of flesh and blood, it banged and pounded like it was made out of pure iron!
    Mr. Leroy saw me and took one more
crack!CHUHhoong
and left the axe stuck in the tree where it last bit.
    He took a second to let his breathing catch up to him and said, “Evening, Elijah.”
    â€œEvening, sir.”
    â€œThat time already, is it?”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œHadn’t even noticed the sun was setting.”
    Mr. Leroy took a rag out of one of his overall pockets and wiped the sweat off his head. This waren’t nothing but a waste of time, though, ’cause soon’s the rag left his face, sweat rolled right back all over it. He rubbed his left elbow and arm and said, “You had you some luck fishing?”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œThank you kindly for remembering me,