Now Puck looked even more thoroughly confused; if that was possible.
“What I mean is, if I hadn’t prepared with two different plans to get water out of my well, I wouldn’t be able to get any. Because apparently, someone stole my hand pump which was my number one plan,” he said angrily.
“Wasn’t me.”
Grayson laughed. “I know it wasn’t you. You’ve never even been here before I found you in that tree and brought you home.”
Puck stopped walking and dropped his head, looking at the ground, still as a statue.
“What are you doing?” It was as though someone had pulled his plug. Grayson stopped to wait up for him. “Come on, Puck.”
Puck didn’t move.
Grayson walked back to him. “What’s the matter, boy?”
Puck took a deep breath and spoke, without looking at Grayson. “I was here, Mister Gray Man. I took those veggies from your garden, for Jenny.”
Grayson stared at the kid long and hard, ready to give him a piece of his mind.
The boy began to tremble.
“Hey, hey… don’t. Don’t do that.”
He put his hand on Puck’s shoulder and Puck flinched and backed up.
Shocked by his response, Grayson stepped back and dropped his hand. Someone had been mean to this kid, and Grayson couldn’t stand to see the boy so full of fear. “Whoa. I’m not gonna hit you. Ever. It’s okay. But listen, Puck. If you really need something, you need to ask first. There’s nothing on this earth worse than a thief or a liar. Or a murderer. You hear me? Just don’t do it again.”
“I’m sorry.” Puck stuck his lip out and let his head hang.
“S’kay. Let’s get this project going.”
Grayson walked on ahead just as Ozzie ran over and dropped his ball at Puck’s feet. That changed his mood in an instant. As though it’d never happened, he laughed and grabbed the ball, throwing it far enough to earn a home run. Out of the park—or backyard anyway.
Would’ve made a great baseball player.
Ozzie took off to retrieve it and Puck caught up with Grayson just after he’d tipped over the old fake doghouse that covered the well-head and pulled the well-cap off. Then he pulled out the drop-pipe that housed the submersible pump motor, handing the end of it to Puck and telling him to walk it back as he pulled.
“What is it?”
“It’s what the well-pump is attached to. It doesn’t work without power, but when it does, the pump shoots the water through this drop-pipe. We have to take it out so that we can get our bucket down to the water in the actual well.”
He came to the end of the pipe, and gently pulled out his pump, hoping it wouldn’t give him any trouble if the power came back on and he had to re-install it. He laid that aside and picked up the well-bucket, running his rope through the large metal ring on the top and tying a tight knot.
He handed it to Puck.
“Okay, now you just carefully feed this well-bucket into the well. When it gets to the water, it’ll stop dropping so easily, and you’ll want to wait a minute or so to let it fill up, then pull it back out, and boom… we’ll have fresh, clean drinking water.”
Puck was excited to help. He carefully took the well bucket from Grayson and inserted it into the well, looking down his nose with big eyes at the dark hole into which he was dropping it.
“That’s it, lower it down easy…” Grayson instructed him.
The pile of rope on the ground was getting smaller and smaller. Grayson had no idea how much rope he actually had, but so far, the hole had eaten a good bit of it. A smarter man would’ve stretched the rope out beside the drop-pipe he’d just pulled out to see if he had enough to reach the water before attempting it.
Too late for that.
Puck was working very slowly, dropping it inch by inch. He’d told the boy to go easy, but this was killing him. He stood up and put his hands on his back, leaning backward to stretch just as Ozzie came flying in with his ball, dropping it at Puck’s feet.
Delighted, Puck let go of the rope and grabbed the ball, throwing it again.
Grayson lunged and missed, landing in the grass with his fingers clutching at air. He threw himself to his feet and cussed up a storm as he watched the end of his rope disappear deep into the dark chasm.
“We’re back to one is none, Puck.”
25
GABBY BOLTED upright in the bed; a strange bed. She gaped around at the unfamiliar room.
Two twin beds, one of which she was in, were covered in tattered but comfy quilts. A simple four-drawer dresser sat between the beds, holding a huge white pitcher next to a matching over-sized bowl. A stack of wash clothes and a tiny tower of Dixie paper cups were neatly stacked beside the oversized water pitcher.
A hand-made tapestry on the wall quoted The Lord’s Prayer, hanging directly over a messy pile of pillows and blankets on the carpeted floor, big enough to accommodate two. Her backpack leaned against the corner, next to Olivia’s beat-up, duct-taped flip-flops.
Remembering where they were, and that they were safe, Gabby dropped back down on a flattened feather pillow in relief. In the bed opposite her, Mei turned over and slowly forced her blood-red eyes open. She stared at Gabby, blinking several times, and then gave up and closed them again, rolling over to face the wall.
Gabby jumped out of bed. “Get up, Mei. We’ve got to go. We’re going to make it home today. Where’s Olivia and Emma?” she asked while pulling on her sneakers. She peeked into the pitcher to find it full of water, but she wasn’t interested in drinking it yet. They’d had their fill last night when Elmer, the farmer, had brought them home and now, she needed to empty her bladder.
She also needed to do the other. She’d stuffed herself when Edith, the farmer’s wife, had happily prepared a late supper for the girls. Cold chicken, cheese, sliced tomatoes and cucumber salad had been ready and waiting for them when they’d walked into the cozy home.
“Don’t know,” Mei muttered.
Gabby poured some water into the bowl and used a washcloth to rinse off her face and hands. She turned and shook Mei’s shoulder gently. “Come on, if you’re going with us, you need to get up. You’ve got five minutes.” Standing over her, Gabby could see trails of mascara dried on Mei’s cheeks.
She, Olivia and Emma had fallen asleep nearly the second their heads hit the pillows, but apparently Mei had been awake at least part of the night. Those tear trails hadn’t been there when they’d gone to bed. She wondered if the tears were because of the little girl in the picture. She couldn’t blame her for that, but they all missed their loved ones. She missed her husband, Jake. Olivia missed her own husband, Grayson, and her step-daughter, Graysie. And Emma especially could feel Mei’s pain. Emma had hardly made a peep about her husband, Dusty, and her son, Rickey. It was sort of unspoken between the three of them that they wouldn’t whine and cry over their families. Instead, they’d focus on just getting back to them.
Gabby opened the bedroom door to the aroma of bacon cooking. Sighing in appreciation, she followed her nose to the kitchen, which was just a few feet away in the small farmhouse. Edith stood at the counter in a brightly-flowered muumuu dress and pink bunny slippers, sliding homemade biscuits off a flat pan and onto a plate. An antique wood stove held a percolating pot of coffee. Gabby’s mouth watered.