39
When morning came we were both awake. We had been too uncomfortable and scared to sleep. The sunlight slipped in through the trees and warmed us up a bit and allowed us to see, even though there was some shade from the trees and the moss. I thought about Jane and Tony but had no idea which direction they had gone, or how to even look for them.
We hadn’t gone that far from the farm, but we were hid up good in the swamp trees. We couldn’t go back the way we had come because of Big Bill’s men. I didn’t know for sure they were back there, but they could be. Going forward seemed the only choice, and it wasn’t a good one. The swamp stretched out for a great distance. And it was full of all manner of bad things, from snakes and alligators to thorns and deep water. Not to mention all the diseases you could get.
During the night, we had been bitten by mosquitoes. I had welts on the back of my neck and on my shoulders. They had bit me right through my clothes. There were still mosquitoes this morning, and Gasper claimed they were big enough to straddle a turkey flat-footed.
I also discovered that two leeches had nestled into my private parts, and I had to reach down in my pants and pull them loose and toss them away. When I did, my hands came away bloody.
Gasper had to do the same. He had one on his foot, right above his shoe top. He didn’t have socks, so it was dug in good.
When he finished tossing them, his hands were bloody too.
“I feel kind of sick,” he said.
“Not feeling too spry myself,” I said.
I looked out through the trees, and now with the sunlight there, I could see the sinkhole, the deep part we had swam across, but I didn’t see any gators. I did see Big Bill’s hat, however. It was floating in some moss on the far side.
“What now?” Gasper said.
“How’s your leg?”
“Not so good.”
“Let me see.”
He pulled up his pants leg. His calf was red and had pocks and pimples from the shotgun pellets. I figured the blast had skimmed and skipped across the water, slowing them down.
“You’re hit, but not bad,” I said. He just caught you a little.”
“It feels like a lot on this end.”
I could see that the buckshot hadn’t done a lot of damage. But the wound was starting to be infected. It wouldn’t take long before that became a problem, especially with us being in the dirty swamp.
We climbed down out of the tree, went back into the water. I helped him along. The water stayed shallow as we went. I watched for alligators but didn’t see any. A big old water moccasin about the width of an inner tube from a bicycle tire and about as long and thick as my arm swam by, but it didn’t pay us any mind.
I don’t know how long we went along like that, but it was a good ways. The farm was no longer visible. All there was now was lots of water and trees growing up out of the swamp. I had no idea where we were. For all we knew, the swamp could go like that for miles and miles. I hated it that we had gotten separated from Jane and Tony, and I figured they was as lost as us. The idea of something happening to them was overwhelming. But there was no way to look for them right then, and I had no idea which direction they had taken. At least for the time being, it was more important to take care of Gasper, and doing that didn’t allow me a lot of room for anything else, even worrying about my friends.
After a while Gasper’s limp got worse. I tried to carry him on my back, but he and I were about the same size, and I might as well have been trying to carry a water buffalo.
Resting more often, we finally made it to where the water got thinner and the land got more solid. Eventually we were on dry land. We laid out on it and rested until the sun was almost down.
When I got up, Gasper couldn’t.
He pulled up his pants leg and I took a look. It was swollen and was still red, and now there were black streaks under his skin. There were a few pellets that had worked their way to the surface. He pinched a couple of those out.
“Your hands aren’t clean,” I said. “Don’t.”
“It hurts something awful, Jack. I don’t think I can go on. This time, you got to listen. You got to leave me.”
“Don’t be an idiot.”
“Why the hell would you stay here with me?”
“Because we’re friends.”
“We don’t know each other that well,” he said.
“After what we been through together, don’t we?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah. You’re right. We’re friends. I ain’t never had a white friend before.”
“And I ain’t never had a gunshot friend, so that makes us even. You can’t go on, maybe I should look and see if I can find help. I’ll be back, though, you can count on it.”
“I believe you.”
I gave him a pat on the back. “Hold on, buddy. I’ll see what I can find.”