Zeely (7 page)

“How will she keep them from getting hurt?” Toeboy asked.

“She won’t let them, that’s all,” Geeder said. “Don’t you worry.”

“Let me go,” Toeboy pleaded. “I don’t want to see the hogs run any more.”

Geeder ignored him, holding on to him tightly as the hogs came on in a mass.

“There’s the mist over everything,” she whispered to herself. “It makes the street all wet and shining. Look how the sun comes through in patches. There’s not a thing to say about it, it’s a special day to the stars. Zeely Tayber is the brightest star of all!”

The hogs looked as if they were half crazed from fear. Many of them frothed at the mouth and staggered blindly in circles. Nat Tayber and his boys managed to get in front of them to slow the lead animals down. It was a wonder the boys and Nat didn’t get bitten, for the hogs snapped at and fought anything that got in their path.

All the time, Toeboy struggled to free himself, but Geeder grimly held him. The odor and sight of the frightened, exhausted animals sickened her.

“They’ll be all right,” she said softly to Toeboy. “You’ll see, nobody will hurt them.”

Through the street passed Zeely Tayber, her long smock brilliant in the mist. She moved straight and tall. Often, a fresh gust of breeze billowed the smock, causing her to appear to rise above the animals. She was taller than any of the men along the curbs and taller than the young trees lining the street. Through all the terrific noise and brutal movement, she made no sudden motion, nor did her face change from its serenity.

“Oh, she’s just wonderful!” Geeder whispered. “She’s just the most beautiful lady!”

And so Zeely was. She was beautiful and tall and unlike anyone else in the whole town.

Suddenly an enormous sow fell. She frothed at the mouth and grunted, as though something hurt her. Other hogs trampled her and still she was unable to move.

“That’s awful!” Geeder said. “Oh, somebody do something!”

Toeboy jerked free from Geeder and instantly disappeared back in the crowd.

“Well, you just go home then,” Geeder muttered.

Someone was shouting, “A sow’s fallen! A sow’s fallen!” The injured sow still lay grunting in the street. Other folks began shouting the same thing, and in a while, Nat Tayber raced back through the animals.

Something happened to Geeder when she saw Nat heading for the sow. Her face grew burning hot and her arms felt cold. She was in the street before she knew it. She was going away from Nat toward Zeely, who was still at the rear of the line of animals.

Geeder could hear people shouting at her to get out of the way before she was trampled. Once, somebody reached for her. She felt the sharp prick of fingernails as she pulled away. All of them, the people shouting and the one person who had tried to hold her back, seemed far away. She didn’t think about anything except hurrying.

She was running. She got in the way of a hog. Some animals snapped at her, knocking into her; she was crying a little, from somewhere in her throat. There was pain in her left foot where a big boar had stepped on her. The stench of the animals made her legs weak. She almost fell, but then Zeely was just ahead. Geeder had to step between two sows to get to her. She placed her hand as lightly as she could on the back of one animal in order to get around it. The heat of the hog shot up her arm and she gasped in terror.

The crowd roared in Geeder’s mind. She couldn’t think what they were saying because the sound ebbed and rose, like many voices over the radio when there is too much static.

Miss Zeely was standing still. Miss Zeely was staring at her.

Zeely Tayber moved to shield Geeder from the hogs. She didn’t touch Geeder, but leaned over her. Geeder started talking before Zeely had a chance to warn her out of the way of the hogs.

“It’s a sow,” Geeder said. She rested one hand on her knee, trying to catch her breath. “It’s all sick in the street, just lying down. Nat . . . your father. He’s got his pole!”

Geeder straightened up too quickly. There was a stitch in her side that took her breath away. She had to bend down and come up slowly before the pain eased. Then, Zeely had Geeder by the arm.

Zeely was walking fast. She leaned forward like a young tree bent in a storm. She walked as though she had made a path through the animals and not one animal touched her, nor Geeder, either. Not more than a half minute had passed since the time Geeder had begun to run and Zeely had started back with her through the hogs. In no time, they saw Nat Tayber prodding the stricken sow hard with his pole. Zeely stopped a few feet from Nat. She let go of Geeder, gently, one finger at a time. Geeder watched Zeely’s eyes empty of strain and fill with something that glinted and flared.

The sow lay grunting under Nat’s prodding. She could not move. Then, his face frozen in an awful grimace, Nat Tayber raised the prodding pole high above his head. Before he could bring it down on the sow, Zeely was there beside him.

Zeely grabbed Nat’s wrist. The pole stood poised and trembling in the air and mist. Zeely looked long and hard at Nat. Her lips moved as she spoke softly to him. Nat twisted the pole. It jerked toward Zeely’s head and then, slowly, came down to rest at Nat’s side. In a second, Nat had turned on his heel. He was gone to lead the animals, not once glancing at the crowd.

The crowd hushed. At once, the stench of the hogs was overpowering. Geeder felt sick and dizzy. She dug her nails in her palms and breathed in short, quick gasps.

Zeely Tayber bent down beside the stricken sow. As if on a string, the people lining the street bent down at the same moment. Up and down the sidewalks, people were squatting or kneeling. They could have been praying there, they were so quiet, watching Zeely.

Geeder knelt down beside Zeely. She took Zeely’s feed pail on her lap and held it at an angle so Zeely could reach into it. Geeder forgot the hog smell and all the people watching, so close was she to Zeely Tayber.

Zeely took a bit of feed from the pail and held it in her hand out to the sow. The sow feebly lifted her head and ate from Zeely’s hand.

A soft murmur passed along the street. It reached Geeder and went through her, in and out of her, draining her of her strength. She felt weak.

Now, the sow struggled to get up. Soon, it was able to walk. Zeely took the feed pail from Geeder without a word. She did so carefully, graciously, and walked away.

“It’s all right,” Geeder murmured, as if Zeely had thanked her. “I thought you might need me to help.”

The sow followed along at Zeely’s heels like a pet of some kind. Zeely no longer needed to hold out her hand with the feed. She simply lowered the pail, allowing the sow to eat. All the way to Red Barn, the sow tagged along behind Zeely. She waited while Zeely got other hogs up and moving, for many more had fallen. She stumbled close behind when Zeely moved quickly along.

The people watching couldn’t believe what they saw happen in front of their eyes. Geeder stood among them, listening to what was said and watching Zeely and the hogs move out of sight.

“That Tayber girl has bewitched the sow,” some people said.

“It is because she is animal, like those hogs.” People snickered and laughed.

Many voices caught and whirled in Geeder’s mind. She grew angry and pushed her way out of the crowd.

Geeder trotted, limping, to Uncle Ross’ farm. She was still weak, bruised and slightly sick to her stomach. But the air had cleared. The mist, thick as smoke, had risen and gone. By the time she passed through the catalpa trees, the smell and danger of hogs had left her. Zeely Tayber was with her still, deep in her thoughts.

“I helped her,” Geeder whispered. “I knew she’d want me to.”

12

GEEDER AND TOEBOY BURST
into the house to tell Uncle Ross what they had heard in town. It was Tuesday, three days after Nat Tayber’s hog run down Leadback Road.

“All the folks say Nat didn’t get a good price for his animals,” Geeder said.

“Because they were beaten and run so hard to market,” Toeboy added.

“Is that so?” Uncle Ross said. “Well, Nat should have known better than to treat prize hogs the way he did.”

“Will you still get your share?” asked Geeder.

“Maybe I won’t take my share,” Uncle Ross said. “I never use that west field for anything.”

Nat Tayber was a proud man. He told everyone he had made a good profit from the sale of his hogs, and perhaps he had. Later that day, he came by the farm and left the money with Geeder when Uncle Ross was in town.

Now, only Nat came down the road to the west field to care for what animals remained. Geeder found no great joy in watching him each morning. She was pressed to find things to do. She decided to tell Nat about the photograph she had discovered and what she had come to believe about Zeely.

Geeder leaned on the west-field fence, watching Nat feed baby pigs and brute hogs. “What if he laughs?” she wondered. “Worse, still, what if he turns on me—he can get mean with people.” It was no use. She could not work up the courage to talk to Nat about Zeely.

She heard a car come down Leadback Road and turned from the field in time to see a green coupe stop in front of the farmhouse. Uncle Ross went out to the car. In a little while, the car drove off the way it had come. Geeder guessed that it was just some gentleman to see Uncle Ross. She didn’t even mention the car to Toeboy when he returned from playing at Bennie Green’s and came into her room.

“We’re building a tree house at Bennie Green’s,” he said.

Geeder made no comment about it.

“I can take you to see it after we eat,” he said, but still Geeder showed no interest.

“Geeder, what’s wrong with you?”

“Toeboy, I’m thinking,” she told him, “and I’ll thank you not to bother me.”

He left her alone, somewhat hurt by the change in her. He thought of writing a letter to his father about Geeder. She didn’t seem like Geeder at all. She was more like Elizabeth Perry, who she was, really. He hadn’t thought of her as Elizabeth all summer. Since Saturday, the day Nat Tayber sold his hogs, Toeboy had had to find others to play with from morning until night. All that Tuesday Geeder just stayed in her room. She never suggested that they sleep outside any more. He was glad of that. He wouldn’t sleep out of doors again and chance seeing the night traveller a second time for anything in the world. Something told him the night traveller would never come in the house to get him; but, of course, he couldn’t be sure. Still, it was funny that Geeder didn’t want to sleep out.

No, since Saturday, she hadn’t been like Geeder at all. In fact, she was just like any other girl.

He was thinking again about the night traveller and how he could protect himself from it when he found Uncle Ross in the dining room. Uncle Ross was seated, waxing the dining-room table with a white cloth. His arm moved in long, circular sweeps. He had the dining-room light on. The light hung from a single chain from the ceiling, just above Uncle Ross’ head. Its shade was shaped like a bell and was made of pretty colored glass which reflected in nice patterns on Uncle Ross’ arm. Toeboy sat down at the table to watch, careful not to touch the fresh wax.

Uncle Ross didn’t say hello and neither did Toeboy. Toeboy never had to say anything to Uncle Ross if he didn’t want to. That was why he liked him so much. He could sit beside Uncle Ross forever and a Sunday and Uncle Ross would never make him talk. Sometimes, Uncle Ross would talk out loud and often he would tell about things Toeboy had never heard of.

“Old oak tables,” Uncle Ross said quietly. “Round, with maybe a hundred years of people using them.” His hand swept in and out of the light. “They are like old people,” he said. “They need a care and a handling that is gentle, the way my mother used to stir a little love into her cooking.” Uncle Ross chuckled and fell silent again. The table gleamed with polish but still his arm swept around and around.

“You don’t think a night traveller would ever come inside a body’s house, do you, Uncle Ross?” Toeboy asked. “I mean, when he was sleeping, when all the doors were locked?”

“The doors of this house are never locked,” Uncle Ross said, “and what are you talking about in the first place?”

“I’m talking about night travellers,” Toeboy said.

“You first must tell me what night travellers are,” Uncle Ross said.

Toeboy was silent, surprised that Uncle Ross didn’t know. Maybe he had forgotten. “Geeder says that dark roads are walked by night travellers late at night.”

“Geeder says, does she?” Uncle Ross said. “Well, then, it must be so. Let me think about it for just a minute.”

Toeboy absently pressed his fingers on the smooth table. Seeing his fingerprints there in the wax, he jerked his hand away.

“It’s all right,” Uncle Ross said. “That’s what you’re supposed to do.”

“But it marks it all up,” Toeboy said.

“What do you think folks did a long time ago,” Uncle Ross said, “when there was maybe a whole family of eight or ten sitting around this table? They would laugh and talk, joke and tell tales.” Uncle Ross smiled to himself. “They’d smooth their palms over a table like this every day, three times a day. Maybe they’d sit at the table all day long in the winter when there wasn’t any other heat but what came from the cook-stove in the kitchen. After some years had caught the wind, that table would shine and it would shine from the oil out of their hands.”