Alabama Moon (4 page)

“You know how to read?”

“Sure I know how to read. I can whip somebody three times my size, too. And I know everything I need to know to live on my own.”

He bit his bottom lip. “Uh-huh . . . Tell me, what type of people are you lookin' for in Alaska? What does your father call the type of people that are like him?”

“People that hate the government.”

“And he just expects you to make it from here to Alaska and find these people on your own?”

I nodded.

Mr. Abroscotto sighed and looked out the store window, then back at me. “I'm gonna tell you somethin', Moon. Your pap was an unreasonable person. Anybody that expects their ten-year-old son to try and make it from the middle of Alabama to Alaska on just a few dollars is either crazy or plain mean. You need to find a home with a good family that doesn't live out in God-knows-where with a dirt floor. You've—”

I felt anger flash through my head. I jumped up on the seat of my chair and leaped across the counter to land on Mr. Abroscotto. He fell back into the shelves behind, and I started hitting him with my one hand that wasn't holding on to him. I pounded him on the cheek over and over as fast as I could. Once he got his balance, he clamped his arms around me so that I couldn't move my fists.

“Moon!” he yelled at me.

I kicked him in the knee. “Mother mercy!” he yelled.

“I don't mind the way we lived!” I yelled at him. “Pap and I always got along!”

Mr. Abroscotto twisted me around and held me out by the shoulders so I couldn't see or kick him. “God, that hurt!” he said.

“Me and Pap were good friends!” I yelled. “Best friends.”

He held me there for what seemed like a long time. I heard him catching his breath behind me, and I stared across the store. Finally, his breathing slowed again, and he talked to me.

“You gonna settle down?”

“If you stop talkin' about my pap like that.”

“I'm gonna turn you loose now, okay?”

“Okay.”

“You're gonna sit back down on that chair, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I'm gonna set you down now.”

“Okay.”

Mr. Abroscotto put me on the counter and I climbed back down into my chair. He ran his hand through his hair and rolled his head around on his neck. He took a deep breath. “Man my age can't take somebody jumpin' on him like a wild monkey. What's gotten into you Moon?”

I picked my sandwich off the floor and stared at it without taking a bite. I was nervous. I'd never acted like that to Mr. Abroscotto. “Don't talk like that about Pap,” I said to the floor.

“Listen, Moon, I'm not tryin' to be disrespectful of your father; I'm tryin' to help you out. I'm worried about your sense of reality.”

I thought about what he was saying and made sure there wasn't anything I didn't like about it.

“You don't know any better,” he said. “If your pap just up and dies of a broken leg because he won't see a doctor, what do you think would've happened to you if you'd have broken your leg? It's things like that that aren't reasonable, Moon. Refusin' to see a doctor when you've got the responsibility of a son to take care of—there's somethin' wrong with that. Now he's dead, and you're out walkin' around on the highway wantin' to go to Alaska.”

I stood and took a step backwards. My hands were shaking and I didn't know what to do. “Nobody's ever said anything bad about Pap,” I said.

“Heck, who would? Who did he ever let you see that might say it?”

I set the sandwich down. “Are you gonna give me money for this stuff or not?”

Mr. Abroscotto shook his head. “Suit yourself.”

I waited while Mr. Abroscotto walked to the back of the store to get a chain cutter. My head spun in confusion, and my hands still shook from being nervous. It was hard to think straight, so I walked to the front of the counter and stared at the box.

When Mr. Abroscotto returned, he clipped the lock from the box and opened it. He pulled out a small roll of money, some photographs, and the watch. There was nothing else to sell. He thumbed through the photographs and studied each one, back and front, for several seconds. He finally showed one to me and asked if I knew any of the people in it.

“Nossir.”

He looked at the picture again. “This fellow here looks an awful lot like your pap. I'd even say it was his brother if I was to make a guess at it. He ever tell you that you had an uncle or talk about his brother or anything like that?”

“Nossir.”

“He ever talk about any family?”

“Said I had a grandpappy that died. Talked about Momma a lot when he didn't think I was listenin'—when he was workin' on stuff and talkin' to himself.”

“Maybe you've got other relatives that hate the government. You might have someplace to go.”

“I just want the money for that watch there.”

Mr. Abroscotto raised his hands in the air. “All right,” he said. He opened the register and took some money from it. He put the bills, photographs, and the watch back in the box and shut the lid. “I'm not gonna take that watch your pap left you. I stuck some money in there with the rest of it. That should help you out. You can pay me someday when you get back from Alaska.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“Anything you need in the way of supplies before you get goin'?”

“Nossir. I can get most everything I need from the forest.”

“I reckon you can, Moon.”

“I'll see you later, then,” I said.

“You be careful.”

I nodded.

I saw Mr. Abroscotto through the store window as I walked back up the road. He had picked up the phone and was talking and watching me leave. I figured he called the law, so I tucked the box under my arm and ran for the trees.

 

Dear Pap,

I think the law is after me now, so I am going to start for Alaska tomorrow. I meant to ask Mr. Abroscotto if he had a map, but I had to whip up on him for talking mean
about you. I'm afraid if I go back again the law will be there waiting for me.

Before I left he gave me some money and I added it to the money that you already had in the box. I don't know how much it is because I haven't counted it, but I didn't have to sell your watch.

He said you might have a brother, but I know you would have told me about that. He said you might have let me die if it was me that had broken my leg, but I know that's not true, either.

I'm trying to listen to the sounds outside, but I don't think I'm as good at it as you are. I went out to take a leak a few minutes ago and there was a coon swimming around in the curing barrel. You'd have thought I'd have heard that.

I wasn't lonely today, but I am tonight. I wish there was someone else out here to talk to. Maybe you can talk to me soon if you get a chance.

Love, Moon

That night I started a small fire in the woodstove and burned the letter. After the letter was just ashes, I put out the fire so that no one would see the smoke. The only light left was that of the grease lamp we'd made in a can that flickered
and put shadows on the walls. I wondered if I'd ever have a place as nice when I got to Alaska. Then I tried to imagine what the person I would live with looked like. I wondered if any boys my age were there. I felt the loneliness creeping over me, and lay on the hide pile with my jacket covering me and my hat pulled down low. I hugged my knees to my chest and listened to the night sounds.

Eventually the grease lamp went out and it was so dark that I couldn't see my hands in front of my face. At one point I heard something moving outside and fear bolted through me and I hugged my knees tighter. It wasn't like me to be scared of creatures moving in the night, but I wasn't myself with all the loneliness in that dark hole.

“Pap,” I whispered, thinking that maybe he was out there. Maybe he was going to talk to me and make me feel okay again. I took off my hat so I could hear better and held my breath and listened. Whatever creature had been moving outside stopped.

“Pap, can you hear me?”

I heard the creature scurry off through the leaves. Then I started thinking about the good times I'd had with Pap when we'd swim in the creek and make flutter mills and scratch tic-tac-toe in the dirt. All these memories poured on me like a waterfall until I was shaking and crying. Then I couldn't take it anymore and leaped off the hide pile and ran out into the night. “Stop!” I cried after the creature. Even if it was just a coon or an armadillo, I wanted something to be with me that night. “Don't leave! Come back!” But my shouts made the rest of the forest creatures duck away and grow silent. I was left standing in the clearing with only the sound of the wind
in the treetops. Then I imagined that the law was all around me. I started breathing hard and staring into the darkness beyond the trees. Suddenly I was running as fast as I could. Spiderwebs covered my face and tree branches slapped my cheeks. Every time I thought about slowing, I imagined people running behind me. I wasn't taking any trail that I knew of, but following the gaps in the trees. Sometimes the ground would fall from under me and I'd roll down a hill, only to get back up at the bottom and keep going. I crashed through a creek and climbed up a steep bank by clutching tree roots. At the top of the bank was a clearing that I dashed across and then ran on again beneath the tall pines.

Eventually, I broke from the trees onto the lawyer's new road. It felt better to have clear space around me where I could see that nothing was hidden and watching me. I started down the road, and the air whistled past my ears and my moccasins padded on the soft dirt. I kept on until the new lodge rose in front of me. The sight of it made me stop and stare up at the windows on the second floor.

“Hello,” I said, but not loud enough for anyone to hear.

The lodge was dark except for one lit room on the corner. I stepped sideways across the clearing and saw a man sitting in the room reading a book. I sucked in deep breaths to calm myself the way I always did before I pulled the trigger on a rifle, and my panic began to go away. It made me feel better to watch the man, even though I didn't know him and didn't want him to know I was outside. I could see there was at least one other person in the world besides me.

I sat against a tree at the edge of the clearing. The wind rustled the treetops and reminded me that I'd left the shelter
without my jacket and hat. I pulled up my knees to keep warm and watched the room.

It was just breaking day when I opened my eyes and saw the man standing over me with a rifle. I leaped to my feet and stared at him.

“What are you doing out here?” he said.

I was too startled to reply.

“Are you lost?”

I shook my head.

“You're the boy who buried his father, aren't you? The constable's been out here looking for you.”

“I didn't do anything wrong.”

“I didn't say you did. I was just about to step off into the woods and do a little hunting. I saw you sitting here.”

“I'll go now.”

He put his rifle over his shoulder and motioned towards the lodge. “Come on inside. I'll fix you something to eat. I can go hunting tomorrow.”

“I better not. The law's gonna be after me soon.”

“I've got a chime that goes off if anyone drives through my gate. I'll know if somebody comes for you. Besides, from what those surveyors said, it would take an Indian chief to find your shelter.”

I didn't know what a chime was, but it made me feel better to hear that the constable wasn't close.

“Are you Mr. Wellington?”

“I am.”

“I got scared out there last night. I shouldn't be here.”

“Do you like sweet rolls?”

“I never had any.”

“Let's go get some, then. I've got one left on the counter that I didn't eat.”

I thought about it and watched his face. I didn't know Mr. Wellington, but my lonely sickness was less at the sight of him. I didn't see anything in his expression that told me I shouldn't trust him, and I still needed someone to tell me about getting to Alaska. Even though my instincts were against it, I stood and followed him.

Once we entered the lodge, I saw Mr. Wellington better in the light. He wore fancy hunting pants and a hat with a turkey feather in it. His face was tight and clean for someone his age. The only way you could tell he was older than Pap was by his eyes. They looked tired past his silver hair.

The lodge was warm inside and smelled of cut cedar and pine. The ceiling was high and I saw the second story was just windows halfway up the wall. I followed him into the kitchen, where he gave me a napkin and the sweet roll off the counter. I bit into it and the sugar tasted so good that I almost closed my eyes while I chewed.

I followed him into a larger room just outside the kitchen. “Sit down in that chair over there,” he said. His hand pointed to a wood chair against the wall. I was disappointed that it wasn't one of the soft chairs in the middle of the room, but I went over to it and sat. Mr. Wellington walked around in front of me and pulled up another, more comfortable chair and sat down. He crossed his arms on his chest.

I finished the sweet roll and looked around at the light fixtures and the nature paintings on the walls.

“I talked to that friend of yours who owns the store up the
road and he said you all have been out there for about eight years.”

“He's not my friend,” I said.

“Okay.”

“Pap said you'd run us off,” I said.

“Well, I just wanted to find out who was living on my property.”

I studied a painting of an Indian kneeling by a waterfall and didn't respond.

“The surveyors said they found a primitive dwelling of some sort. I suppose that was yours.”

“It's a shelter. It's built like that so people won't find it.”