Mandie Collection, The: 8 (31 page)

“I got him!” she called out to her friends as she held him tightly in her arms. As she turned around to look back at her friends, something in the cemetery sparkled and caught her attention. She gasped in disbelief as she stared through the iron gate. There was all that mica, spread all over the cemetery.

“I can’t believe it!” she screamed, and everyone came running to see.

“There is the mica!” Joe said, excitedly grasping the rods in the gate.

Uncle Ned and the others stood staring, too, with various exclamations.

Mandie quickly grasped Uncle Ned’s hand as tears formed in her blue eyes. “Uncle Ned, how could anyone do this?”

Uncle Ned patted her blond head and said, “We find who did this. Take time, but we find.”

“I would like to find them myself,” Mandie said, angrily wiping a tear from her eye. “We have to clean it all off, Uncle Ned.”

“We go home now. Come back tomorrow, clean mica away,” the old man said.

Mandie jerked on his hand as she said, “Not tomorrow, Uncle Ned. We need to clean it all off today. Today, Uncle Ned!”

Uncle Ned looked down at her and said, “No tools. No way to get it out. Must come back tomorrow with tools.”

Mandie stomped her feet and said, “No, no, Uncle Ned! We can go right now and get some tools and get it all out. Oh, it’s horrible to do such a thing to graves.”

Uncle Ned was silent a moment and no one else said anything. Then he said, “All right, Papoose. We go get wagon, get tools, and come back today.”

Mandie smiled through her tears and said, “Thank you, Uncle Ned.”

She knew this was going to be a big job and would take time, but she also knew she wouldn’t sleep that night knowing all those graves were buried under all that mica. She silently thanked God that He had persuaded Uncle Ned to return and remove it today.

CHAPTER TWELVE

THE MESSAGE

As Uncle Ned promised, they went back and got his wagon and Joe’s cart, then they went to the Cherokee schoolhouse, where Riley O’Neal gave them tools to remove the mica. Riley and Dimar rode their own horses back with them, because it would be late when they finished the job and everyone could just go on home without someone having to go out of their way to drop someone off.

When they entered the cemetery, Mandie looked around and asked Uncle Ned, “Where are we going to put all this mica when we take it out of here?”

“Old barn back there behind wall. We throw it all by barn and take it away later,” Uncle Ned replied.

“Take it away? Where?” Mandie asked.

“Must belong to mica mine somewhere. We find,” Uncle Ned told her.

So they began the huge task of loading Uncle Ned’s wagon and then Joe’s cart with the mica and then dumping it out by the old barn.

As she shoveled the mica, Mandie wandered back into the far corner of the cemetery, looking at gravestones, when she thought she heard one of her friends say something. But they were all at the other end of the cemetery, so she called to them, “What did you say?”

Everyone looked at her in surprise and said, “Nothing.”

Mandie thought they didn’t understand what she said, so she went back to work shoveling the mica into a pile when she definitely heard someone crying, “Help!” in a muffled voice. She quickly walked around and looked, but couldn’t see anyone else near her. She stopped by a six-foot-tall monument with an angel on top and tried to figure out what was going on.

“Help!” came from the monument, and she got goosebumps for a moment as she thought the angel had spoken. She quickly moved back, and when she did she saw a man’s face looking up at her from under the bench part of the monument. He was covered entirely with the mica except his face, and evidently he was alive.

Mandie’s heart almost stopped beating as she imagined all kinds of things, from thinking she had imagined it to believing someone in a grave had come back alive. Then Joe came rushing up to join her. She was so frightened she couldn’t speak, but pointed toward the monument.

“What is it, Mandie?” Joe asked, looking at her and then to where she was pointing. He immediately saw the man’s face and fell on his knees to start uncovering the man. “Come on, Mandie! Help me.”

Mandie finally realized what was going on, and she joined Joe in his effort to dig the man out of the mica. When they had removed enough mica that the man could sit up, Mandie gasped in surprise. “Oh, it’s Mr. Beethoven! Mr. Beethoven, how did you get buried?” She reached to brush the mica out of his hair.

The others had come running when they saw what was going on, and they soon had Mr. Beethoven out of the mess of mica. The man remembered seeing them in the mountain and tried to thank them, but he could hardly speak.

“Water,” Uncle Ned told Dimar, who rushed back to the wagon to get Uncle Ned’s water jug.

Uncle Ned helped Beethoven move away from the pile of mica, and when he did the old Indian spied an arrow under where the man had been buried. He picked it up and muttered, “Tsa’ni!”

Mandie and the others heard the name. “Tsa’ni? Did he do this, Uncle Ned?” Tsa’ni was a young Cherokee boy who hated white people, and everyone knew him for his bad deeds.

Uncle Ned nodded as he still examined the arrow and said, “Arrow belong to Tsa’ni.”

“What are we going to do about it?” Joe asked.

“I tell Council,” Uncle Ned said. “Council do something.”

“I’m glad he won’t get away with doing all this,” Mandie said. “Why, he could have killed Mr. Beethoven here.”

Dimar had returned with the water, and Beethoven slowly drank from the jug. He finally regained his voice. “I had been walking a long time and decided to take a nap in here. With the wall around the cemetery, no wild animals could get in, so I thought I was safe. I lay down in the shade under that monument and went to sleep. When I woke up, I couldn’t move. I was covered all over with that mica, but the bench part of the monument had shielded my face,” he told them.

“But who dumped the mica on you? Why didn’t you run away?” Joe asked.

Beethoven shook his head and said, “I don’t know who did it. I was asleep.”

“Arrow say Tsa’ni did it,” Uncle Ned said firmly. He handed the arrow to Dimar and said, “Put arrow in safe place under seat in wagon. Now we finish moving mica.”

Dimar did as Uncle Ned said and then hurried back to help load more mica. When they had the wagon and the cart full, Dimar drove the wagon and Joe the cart toward the old barn outside the wall of the cemetery.

Joe was ahead of Dimar and couldn’t decide where the best place was to dump the mica, so he started to circle the old barn and look around. He drew the horse up short suddenly, almost causing Dimar to run his wagon into the back of the cart. With the heavy mica, it was hard to stop the vehicles.

Glancing quickly back at Dimar, he yelled, “Look!” He pointed ahead. “There are the two missing wagons.” Joe jumped down to investigate, and Dimar hurried to join him.

“Yes,” Dimar agreed with a big smile. “My mother’s wagon and Jessan’s wagon.” He examined the vehicles.

Joe quickly looked in the bed of each one. There were definitely mica particles in both.

Mandie had been near the gate when the two boys drove their loads out, and she stepped outside to see where they had gone. When she saw the two vehicles standing there in the field, she wondered where Dimar and Joe had gone and hurried to investigate.

“Joe! Dimar!” she called as she came closer. “Where are y’all?” Then as she rounded the corner of the barn, she saw the boys with the two missing wagons. She rushed over to look.

“Here are the two wagons we’ve been searching all over the mountain for,” Joe told her with a big grin.

“Of all places!” she exclaimed. She looked at the barn and asked, “Have y’all looked in the barn? There might be something else hidden in there that was stolen.” She started for the door, which was barely hanging on its hinges.

“Here, wait, I’ll open that. It might fall off on you,” Joe told her. He and Dimar carefully swung the door back, and the three of them entered the dark interior of the barn and were greeted by a strange snoring sound.

Mandie froze in her tracks. “What was that?” she asked.

“I do believe it’s a horse,” Joe said, going toward a stall at the end of the corridor. “That’s what it is,” he immediately called back.

Dimar and Mandie followed him. In the dim light coming through cracks in the wooden wall of the barn, Mandie could see the horse. Then she also spotted something else lying on the floor and almost screamed as she backed away.

“No!” she cried.

Joe and Dimar quickly investigated the floor.

“It’s a man all tied up and gagged!” Joe told her. “Run and get the water jug out of my cart! It’s under the seat.”

Mandie raced outside, grabbed the jug from under the seat, and returned, holding it out to Joe, who was stooping over the man.

“Mandie, set the water down a minute. You don’t have to be afraid,” Joe told her. “It’s Mr. Jacob Smith!”

“Yes,” Dimar confirmed as the two boys worked quickly to remove the ropes and the gag in Mr. Smith’s mouth.

Mandie watched, and as soon as they got the gag out of the man’s mouth, he tried to speak. She grabbed the water and held it up to his mouth. He drank and then spluttered as he tried to talk.

When the young people were gone too long, the others came to look for them and hurried across the field to the two loaded vehicles, then into the barn.

Uncle Ned was the first one inside, and he looked at Mr. Jacob
Smith as the boys finished untying him and asked, “Who did this?” He knelt by the man who was now sitting up.

Jacob Smith shook his head and mumbled in a dry voice, “Don’t know them. All Cherokee boys.”

“Tsa’ni!” Uncle Ned said angrily. “Council will take care of him. I find other boys and Council will take care of them, too.”

“Let’s get the wagon unloaded so we can put Mr. Smith in it and get him out of here,” Riley told the boys.

With everyone pitching in, it didn’t take but a few minutes to clean the wagon out and then the cart. They got Mr. Smith into the wagon and drove the vehicles back to the gate of the cemetery.

“I will water the horse, Mr. Smith,” Dimar told him. “There is a creek down the hill behind that barn.” He hurried back to do this.

Mandie excitedly asked questions as soon as Mr. Smith was able to talk. “How long have you been in that barn? We’ve been going by your house looking for you every day this week,” she told him as he lay against the side in the bed of the wagon and she and Joe knelt nearby.

“I had to go back to my old house,” Mr. Smith said between gasps for breath. “Got word someone wanted to rent it. Went up there last Saturday, I think it was. Came back down this road yesterday and caught those boys throwing mica all over the cemetery.” He paused to lick his lips and swallow a little water. “Told them if they didn’t stop, I was going to find someone who would stop them. They overpowered me. More of them than I thought.” He stopped to breathe.

Uncle Ned had been listening as he stood beside the wagon. He told Mandie, “Must go now. Take Mr. Smith and other man home to Morning Star. She doctor.”

“I’m all right. I can go on to my house,” Mr. Smith insisted, but he fell back against the side of the wagon and gasped for breath.

“No, we go home to Morning Star,” the old Cherokee man insisted. Turning to Dimar, he said, “We get other man in wagon.” Then looking at Mandie, he said, “I promise we come back tomorrow, finish moving mica. Must take sick men home now.”

“I understand, Uncle Ned,” Mandie replied. “That’s the right thing to do.”

Dimar came back with Riley O’Neal, the two of them almost
carrying Beethoven to the wagon. They lifted him and set him beside Mr. Smith.

Mandie looked at Mr. Smith and explained, “This man was buried alive under all that mica in the cemetery.”

“You don’t say!” Mr. Smith said in surprise as he looked at Beethoven.

Beethoven was trying to resist being put into the wagon and tried to get out, but was too weak to do that. “Got to git to Georgia. Got to git a job,” he kept muttering.

Mandie quickly explained to Mr. Smith who Beethoven was and how they had met him.

Mr. Smith looked at Beethoven, reached out his hand to shake hands, and said, “Man, you done got a job. I need someone to help me real bad.”

“But I ain’t got to Georgia yet,” Beethoven argued.

“You’re almost to Georgia. Anyhow, you got a job,” Mr. Smith said, still offering his hand.

Evidently Beethoven was woozy from his ordeal, and he waved his right hand out and managed to connect with Mr. Smith’s. “I thank you, mister. I thank you,” he said and stopped trying to get out of the wagon.

Uncle Ned told Dimar, “We tie Mr. Smith’s horse behind wagon. You ride yours. We don’t leave horse here. We come back for two wagons.”

Joe rushed around, gathering up the tools and putting them in the back of Uncle Ned’s wagon. Mandie and Sallie helped, and they were all soon ready to go.

“Mr. Smith, I have to go home Saturday,” Mandie called to him as Uncle Ned got ready to drive away with the wagon. “If you’re able, will you come to see me?”

“That I will,” Mr. Smith answered as she jumped into Joe’s cart, untied Snowball from the hook where she had left him, and Joe started down the road.

Mandie took a long breath and said, “Oh, I think I’m tired!”

“I know I’m tired, and I know I’m hungry and my mother will be wondering where we are,” Joe told her as he shook the reins.

They were late for supper, but Dr. and Mrs. Woodard had gone to a friend’s house for supper and left Mrs. Miller to serve the two
young people. When Mandie and Joe walked in the back door, Mrs. Miller turned from the stove, where she was inspecting the contents of a pot. Her eyes widened and she exclaimed, “For pity sakes, what happened to y’all?”

Mandie and Joe both laughed then as they realized they must have mica particles all over their clothes.

“It’s a long story, but first we need to get cleaned up, if you don’t mind holding supper a few minutes more,” Joe told her as he smiled and headed for the door to the hallway.

“No rush. Your ma and pa ain’t here anyhow,” Mrs. Miller replied. “They’ve gone to the Thompsons’ for supper. I suppose you don’t know because you didn’t see them this morning.”