anything was going to get done, I had to hold my emotions in check.
I cleared my throat. “Come on, Dad.” My voice broke. “We’ve got to get back to the house. Mom’s going to be worried.”
Dad had pulled his hands together against his chest, where they were clenched, as if ready to defend against an attack. His pinched, red-rimmed eyes met mine, and he nodded.
“Right. Okay, son.” He lifted himself to a sitting position. I helped him stand. “All right. Let’s get him on one of these horses.” He sniffed. “Jack, give us a hand here.”
Jack had still not moved. But at Dad’s command, after lifting his head and staring blankly for a moment, as if clearing his mind, he stood, his arms dropping to his sides. I got ahold of George’s arms, and Dad grabbed his legs. We hefted him up off the ground, and Jack stepped in, lifting the bulk of George’s torso. George’s skin was cold and soft, slightly sticky, like bread dough, and with his wet clothes and bloat, he was damn heavy. The feel of his skin made me feel cold myself, on the inside.
Getting George draped over Ahab’s back was difficult, as his torso did not bend. But we balanced him on his stomach, then stretched arope from his hands to his feet under Ahab’s belly. I noticed that the flesh on George’s leg had torn where Dad roped it. There was almost no blood, and the tissue inside the cut was as white as the surface. We did all this wordlessly, avoiding each other’s eyes.
I finished tying the knot. Dad and Jack had already mounted their horses. I climbed up behind Dad, and held Ahab’s reins, leading him behind us. Ten minutes later, we approached the house. Mom stood on the stoop, both hands clamped to her mouth. Muriel clutched Mom’s skirt, and Bob stood behind her. Mom dropped her hands and moaned, disappearing inside the house when she saw the body, leaving the two little ones racing after her, clutching for her skirt.
Despite the long day, and my tired muscles, I had trouble sleeping. Although George’s bed had been empty for more than a half year, I kept waking up and looking over at it. And each time I managed to drift off, my dreams were invaded by wolves, tearing into George’s body, which we had laid out in the barn. Dad was certain that the stench wouldn’t get too bad before morning, but I was worried that it was already strong enough to draw the attention of some predators.
The wolves in my dreams were screaming, like humans rather than animals. The screams half woke me several times, until they sounded so real that I was fully awake. But in the time it took me to pass from being vaguely aware to waking up, I realized that I really did hear screams. I jumped out of bed, pulled on my overalls, and raced toward the barn. But halfway across the yard, I heard the screams behind me, in the house. Confused, I turned back, and went inside.
I smelled kerosene, and saw a muted light leaking beneath the closed door of the girls’ room. I opened the door carefully. Dad stood at the foot of Katie’s bed. Mom sat on the bed, bent at the waist so that her face nearly touched Katie’s. She held a wet cloth to my sister’s forehead and spoke gently. “It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s going to pass. Justrelax.” Her voice sounded soothing on the surface, but I could hear the fear in it. Mom’s hair drifted out away from her head in a tangle of copper and white flags. I saw the strain on her face. It scared me, as this fear was rare for Mom.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“We don’t know,” Dad answered.
“Should I go for the doctor?”
“Jack already left to see if Doc Sorenson is in Capitol.”
“Where’s Muriel?”
“She’s in our bed,” Dad answered.
I approached the scene, half not wanting to, preferring the thought of sinking back in my bed and covering my head with a pillow. Katie arched her back and screamed, her mouth stretching into a frightening rectangle. It looked as if the skin might tear around her
I cleared my throat. “Come on, Dad.” My voice broke. “We’ve got to get back to the house. Mom’s going to be worried.”
Dad had pulled his hands together against his chest, where they were clenched, as if ready to defend against an attack. His pinched, red-rimmed eyes met mine, and he nodded.
“Right. Okay, son.” He lifted himself to a sitting position. I helped him stand. “All right. Let’s get him on one of these horses.” He sniffed. “Jack, give us a hand here.”
Jack had still not moved. But at Dad’s command, after lifting his head and staring blankly for a moment, as if clearing his mind, he stood, his arms dropping to his sides. I got ahold of George’s arms, and Dad grabbed his legs. We hefted him up off the ground, and Jack stepped in, lifting the bulk of George’s torso. George’s skin was cold and soft, slightly sticky, like bread dough, and with his wet clothes and bloat, he was damn heavy. The feel of his skin made me feel cold myself, on the inside.
Getting George draped over Ahab’s back was difficult, as his torso did not bend. But we balanced him on his stomach, then stretched arope from his hands to his feet under Ahab’s belly. I noticed that the flesh on George’s leg had torn where Dad roped it. There was almost no blood, and the tissue inside the cut was as white as the surface. We did all this wordlessly, avoiding each other’s eyes.
I finished tying the knot. Dad and Jack had already mounted their horses. I climbed up behind Dad, and held Ahab’s reins, leading him behind us. Ten minutes later, we approached the house. Mom stood on the stoop, both hands clamped to her mouth. Muriel clutched Mom’s skirt, and Bob stood behind her. Mom dropped her hands and moaned, disappearing inside the house when she saw the body, leaving the two little ones racing after her, clutching for her skirt.
Despite the long day, and my tired muscles, I had trouble sleeping. Although George’s bed had been empty for more than a half year, I kept waking up and looking over at it. And each time I managed to drift off, my dreams were invaded by wolves, tearing into George’s body, which we had laid out in the barn. Dad was certain that the stench wouldn’t get too bad before morning, but I was worried that it was already strong enough to draw the attention of some predators.
The wolves in my dreams were screaming, like humans rather than animals. The screams half woke me several times, until they sounded so real that I was fully awake. But in the time it took me to pass from being vaguely aware to waking up, I realized that I really did hear screams. I jumped out of bed, pulled on my overalls, and raced toward the barn. But halfway across the yard, I heard the screams behind me, in the house. Confused, I turned back, and went inside.
I smelled kerosene, and saw a muted light leaking beneath the closed door of the girls’ room. I opened the door carefully. Dad stood at the foot of Katie’s bed. Mom sat on the bed, bent at the waist so that her face nearly touched Katie’s. She held a wet cloth to my sister’s forehead and spoke gently. “It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s going to pass. Justrelax.” Her voice sounded soothing on the surface, but I could hear the fear in it. Mom’s hair drifted out away from her head in a tangle of copper and white flags. I saw the strain on her face. It scared me, as this fear was rare for Mom.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“We don’t know,” Dad answered.
“Should I go for the doctor?”
“Jack already left to see if Doc Sorenson is in Capitol.”
“Where’s Muriel?”
“She’s in our bed,” Dad answered.
I approached the scene, half not wanting to, preferring the thought of sinking back in my bed and covering my head with a pillow. Katie arched her back and screamed, her mouth stretching into a frightening rectangle. It looked as if the skin might tear around her
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