The Red House. George Agnew Chamberlain

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СКАЧАТЬ house wa’n’t real, but the screams that comes out of it, they was real.”

      “Shut up, you old fool!” cried Ellen hoarsely. “Shut up!”

      Nath went to the lean-to door, pulled it open boldly and started to slam it behind him, but he ended by closing it softly. He heard Meg call to him please to come back, but he kept on going, feeling his way through the dark. Outside, the moon was up, bathing the whole of Yocum Farm with mellow light. He turned to the left, but stopped at the pump where he had washed. The ramp seemed changed, as if it broke off short at the point where the moonlight ceased. Beyond was a pit of darkness, miles of darkness. He ordered his feet to get going, but they wouldn’t. He saw Rumble sitting on his haunches and heard his tail swish, inviting friendship. He tried to whistle, and it frightened him to find he couldn’t.

      He knew he was acting like as big a fool as that yarning old man Yocum, but knowing didn’t help. All the knowing in the world couldn’t moisten his cracking lips or force his feet down the ramp. He turned the other way and found himself standing in the open where his eyes could sweep the circle of woods that enclosed Yocum Farm. Some of them were familiar, yet tonight they formed a forbidding, unbroken barrier around the lake of moonlight. Even the lane that tunneled through the stretch of growth between the drawgate and the County Road now seemed sealed with a plug of darkness.

      Like letting a stubborn mule have his way, he gave up telling his feet where to go. They led him past the silent plank cabin and along to the wide entrance of the wagon shed. A gleam drew him, a gleam as golden as the rising sun. It came from a pile of last year’s corn in one of the corncribs. He raised the sliding door of the crib, netted with strong rat wire, crawled inside and let the door fall behind him. He snuggled backward into the heap of corn for warmth, his aching legs sprawled wide. It wasn’t only his legs that ached; it was the whole of him and above all else his heart. He had shrunk from manhood back into a little boy afraid of the dark. He was a coward. Tonight, only he knew it. Tomorrow Pete, Meg and the whole world would know.

      Inside the house, Meg hadn’t moved except to stare in unbelief at Ellen, down on her knees and with her face buried in her hands. Meg shuddered. This wasn’t like Pete’s ordinary bad times; it was worse, because it pushed her out and left her alone. Pete wasn’t here, nor Ellen; she was alone with two people she didn’t know. She saw Pete heave out of his chair and go to the telephone.

      “Mis’ Storm?” he said presently in his friendliest voice. “This be Pete Yocum again. Your boy et so much supper he’s tuckered out and won’t be home afore school-out tomorrer.”

      He hung up, and as he faced about, Meg found her tongue. “That’s wicked,” she said hoarsely. “Perhaps you did scare Nath into going the long way. But he’s started, hasn’t he? He’ll get home hours from now and frighten his mother most to death.”

      “One fool at a time is enough,” said Pete pleasantly. “Git ye off to bed, and Ellen too.”

      III

      AT SUNRISE Pete went poking around in search of Nath. First he stopped at the plank cabin, but the boy wasn’t there. He told Lot he could forget the home chores from now on, and ordered him to get to plowing. Leaving the cabin, he started for the barn, and it wasn’t by accident that he caught sight of Nath in the corncrib, because Pete never saw anything by accident. Nath had been so cold that he had slept only by fits and starts, and his eyes were wide open.

      “Hello,” he said sheepishly.

      “How’d ye come to get in there?” asked Pete, full of concern. “Somebody chase ye?”

      “Only you,” said Nath boldly. “You scared the hell out of me all right.”

      “Well, now,” said Pete, “I’m sorry, Nath, and I don’t understand it. Seems like the truth oughtn’t never to scare nobody, boy or man.”

      Nath stood up, shook himself and gave Pete a long look. “The truth!” he muttered. “You and your jumpity house!”

      “Eh? How’s that now?”

      “Aw, nothing,” said Nath.

      “Come along then; let’s git them chores done afore breakfast.”

      Nath wondered if he was going to be rooked for double duty on single pay or perhaps no pay at all, but he didn’t say anything—not yet. He worked fast, but couldn’t keep from studying Pete at every chance. Perched on his stool, Pete seemed wrapped in the benign innocence of an oversized baby.

      “Come here, boy,” he said, the minute the work was done.

      Squirming like a huge grub, he managed to extract a wallet from his hip pocket and took out an ancient dollar bill more than seven inches long and over three inches wide. “Here you be,” he continued, “fifty cents for last night and fifty more for this morning. Come along in and feed.”

      Nath didn’t follow at once; instead, he stood looking at Pete’s receding back. There was nothing babyish about the old devil now. Why hadn’t he handed over fifty cents last night? Had he planned the whole crazy show yesterday when he was thinking hard enough to raise a sweat? Nath felt so sore at being played for a dope that when he went inside to breakfast, he wasn’t even embarrassed, and nobody else seemed to be either. Only Meg looked uneasy, her eyes resting solemnly on Pete. It made her angry to think he had known Nath wouldn’t go home, angry and a little frightened. When she and Nath started off to school, their silence lasted well into the tunneled lane.

      “Meg,” said Nath, “does Pete often talk so crazy as last night?”

      “No,” said Meg. “I never heard such storying before from him or anybody else.”

      “Me neither,” said Nath. He laughed and then frowned. “I was good and scared.”

      “So was I,” said Meg. “When he got through, I wouldn’t have stepped outside for anything, not for anything.”

      “Well,” said Nath, “you notice I didn’t get so far myself.” Then he added, “But I will tonight.”

      They boarded the bus, and when it reached the school, Tibby Rinton was waiting. Nobody could belittle her beauty, with hair rising like an orange flame from the whitest skin you ever saw. But it wasn’t white this morning and, since she never used rouge, only anger could account for the color in her cheeks. She didn’t move; she just waited until they came near.

      “You got a nerve, Nath Storm!” she exploded. “Where were you last night when I phoned, the way I said I would?”

      “Working,” said Nath.

      “Working all night long!” gibed Tibby wrathfully.

      “Aw, Tibby,” protested Nath, “where’s the harm? I did chores last night and again this morning. Can’t a guy earn a dollar without you throwing sixteen hundred fits?”

      “Not if it takes all night,” said Tibby, turning away with a swirl.

      After school Nath was torn between wanting to make it up with her and anxiety to see his mother. Tibby had been his girl from the first time she had called hello to him, and there were plenty of fellows ready and willing to take his place, yet when he remembered the chores waiting to be done at Yocum Farm, he decided to go straight home.

      “Look, mom,” he announced. СКАЧАТЬ