Read Online The Healer by Daniel P. Mannix - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Daniel P. Mannix
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Then a gray shadow slipped into the high weeds ahead of the hound. They heard Wasser yelp as he plunged into the cover in pursuit and the brambles tore his long ears. Abe Zook raised the gun, watching for a shot. The coyote must be in the midst of the swamp now.
"There!" screamed Billy. From the other side of the swamp the gray shape appeared. It was uncanny. Nothing could have crossed that tangle so rapidly; they could hear Wasser still deep in the network. Caught off guard, Abe Zook swung around, but it was too late. The gray shape was already vanishing into the woods. In a blind rage Abe fired after it, as futile a gesture as shooting at the moon.
A gust of wind sent a splatter of raindrops into their faces. Black, toadstool-shaped clouds were moving in under the dull overhang. Abe Zook called to Wasser as the rest of the pack came up, and then the storm broke. Any further hunting was impossible; the rain was washing out the scent.
Drenched, they made their way back to the car with the discouraged hounds. Ike Yoder and Isaac Lapp were already inside and asked no questions.
Yoder dropped them and Wasser off at the stone house, and Billy built a fire in the fireplace while Abe Zook went out to the barn. Wasser lay dead beat before the first fingers of flame stealing up through the dry wood. Billy stripped down to his shorts and spread his clothes over one of the benches to dry. He got a blanket from his bed and wrapping up in it, sat staring at the fire.
He was as tired as Wasser as he watched the flames that pulsated, flickered, swayed, and undulated, turning colors as they grew and fastened on the different woods. The flames trembled and swayed higher so he seemed to sink into them. Suddenly he felt himself running down a street with boys after him. His back stiffened with the effort to escape and he could taste the sweat running down his face, but he could not feel his fatigue—only the frustration at not being able to run faster. His feet slowed and grew heavy, but still his body streaked along the concrete, his shoes barely touching the hard surface. He could hear his pursuers yelling and their cries were growing louder and louder like the cry of hounds. He had to find a wall so he could put his back against it and at least make a show. He did not want to be tackled so he would fall down. That had happened once before. Then everyone piled on top of you.
Someone grabbed his ankles and he fell flat. They were all shouting together and right on him. A knot of wood in the fireplace exploded like a rifle shot. Billy screamed aloud.
Abe Zook came in carrying a milk pail and a bag. "The herbs are dry," he said, putting the bag on the table. "Tomorrow, perhaps we can get more. Perhaps next time we should be getting some wolfsbane. That animal put a hex on you."
Billy pulled on his clothes. Without looking at the old man he said, "Why do you want to kill that coyote? He isn't hurting you. He only wants to live in his own way."
"You have forgotten the dead sheep already?"
Billy dragged on his socks and straightened the laces of his shoes. "He hasn't any home and everyone hates him. So he goes crazy and kills things. Then you want to run him down with dogs and kill him. It isn't fair."
"Boy, you are sick in the head. I thought you liked the hunt."
"I was excited then and didn't think. Now I know how he feels."
Abe Zook made no answer. He went to the stove and shredded some bark with his pocket knife, preparatory to starting a fire.
Billy said, "You don't like me, do you?"
Abe Zook sighed. "Yes, I feel for you. You have a feeling for things which I do not. When I was a boy, I knew such feelings, but now they are lost."
"Couldn't you put a charm on that wolf so he would be tame? Then I could keep him."
Abe Zook made no answer. He dropped the bark into the stove and carefully laid dried twigs across it. Then he struck a match and lit the heap. Not until the flame crept up and the twigs caught did he reply.
Then he
"There!" screamed Billy. From the other side of the swamp the gray shape appeared. It was uncanny. Nothing could have crossed that tangle so rapidly; they could hear Wasser still deep in the network. Caught off guard, Abe Zook swung around, but it was too late. The gray shape was already vanishing into the woods. In a blind rage Abe fired after it, as futile a gesture as shooting at the moon.
A gust of wind sent a splatter of raindrops into their faces. Black, toadstool-shaped clouds were moving in under the dull overhang. Abe Zook called to Wasser as the rest of the pack came up, and then the storm broke. Any further hunting was impossible; the rain was washing out the scent.
Drenched, they made their way back to the car with the discouraged hounds. Ike Yoder and Isaac Lapp were already inside and asked no questions.
Yoder dropped them and Wasser off at the stone house, and Billy built a fire in the fireplace while Abe Zook went out to the barn. Wasser lay dead beat before the first fingers of flame stealing up through the dry wood. Billy stripped down to his shorts and spread his clothes over one of the benches to dry. He got a blanket from his bed and wrapping up in it, sat staring at the fire.
He was as tired as Wasser as he watched the flames that pulsated, flickered, swayed, and undulated, turning colors as they grew and fastened on the different woods. The flames trembled and swayed higher so he seemed to sink into them. Suddenly he felt himself running down a street with boys after him. His back stiffened with the effort to escape and he could taste the sweat running down his face, but he could not feel his fatigue—only the frustration at not being able to run faster. His feet slowed and grew heavy, but still his body streaked along the concrete, his shoes barely touching the hard surface. He could hear his pursuers yelling and their cries were growing louder and louder like the cry of hounds. He had to find a wall so he could put his back against it and at least make a show. He did not want to be tackled so he would fall down. That had happened once before. Then everyone piled on top of you.
Someone grabbed his ankles and he fell flat. They were all shouting together and right on him. A knot of wood in the fireplace exploded like a rifle shot. Billy screamed aloud.
Abe Zook came in carrying a milk pail and a bag. "The herbs are dry," he said, putting the bag on the table. "Tomorrow, perhaps we can get more. Perhaps next time we should be getting some wolfsbane. That animal put a hex on you."
Billy pulled on his clothes. Without looking at the old man he said, "Why do you want to kill that coyote? He isn't hurting you. He only wants to live in his own way."
"You have forgotten the dead sheep already?"
Billy dragged on his socks and straightened the laces of his shoes. "He hasn't any home and everyone hates him. So he goes crazy and kills things. Then you want to run him down with dogs and kill him. It isn't fair."
"Boy, you are sick in the head. I thought you liked the hunt."
"I was excited then and didn't think. Now I know how he feels."
Abe Zook made no answer. He went to the stove and shredded some bark with his pocket knife, preparatory to starting a fire.
Billy said, "You don't like me, do you?"
Abe Zook sighed. "Yes, I feel for you. You have a feeling for things which I do not. When I was a boy, I knew such feelings, but now they are lost."
"Couldn't you put a charm on that wolf so he would be tame? Then I could keep him."
Abe Zook made no answer. He dropped the bark into the stove and carefully laid dried twigs across it. Then he struck a match and lit the heap. Not until the flame crept up and the twigs caught did he reply.
Then he
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