Jacob's Way (26 page)

And we'll eat as we ne'er ate before.

The army bean nice and clean

We'll stick to our beans evermore.

“I recollect that was the last song I sung in the army,” Sam said. “We was trapped there at Appomattox, and we all seen our time was up. Every boy was feelin' pretty low, so I started up this song, and we sung it.” He looked off into the distance and said, “Them was hard days, but somehow I miss 'em.”

As they pulled into town, Ben saw that it was crowded indeed. He drove down the main street and finally found a place to hitch the mules. He was helped by Dov, who got out and did some more ear twisting. Delilah squealed, but she stood still until they were firmly tied.

The whole party walked along together, and Sam and Phineas spoke to a great many people. Phineas was dragged away by a man with a banjo, and they all followed as he found his place with a small group already filling the air with song.

Driver listened, and from time to time he glanced down at Reisa. She was wearing her only good dress, which was light green. The color brought out the gray-green of her eyes, and he noted again the jet-black hair that crept out from beneath the scarf that she wore over it. He wished again that he could see it down her back, imagining how beautiful it must be.

They had been there only half an hour when suddenly Ben tensed. Reisa, who was standing beside Driver holding his arm, looked up at him.

“What's wrong, Ben?”

Ben couldn't tear his gaze away. Reisa, he knew, saw only a tall man and an attractive woman walking toward them. They were well-dressed, and as they approached he saw recognition come to both of them.

It was his parents.

His father said nothing—in fact, turned his head away. But his mother whispered as they passed, “Hello, Ben.”

Ben returned her greeting but said no more.

“What a fine-looking couple,” Reisa said. “Who are they? Do you know them?”

Ben turned, and his face was drawn. “My parents,” he said in a tight voice.

“Oh, I didn't mean to pry.”

The fun had gone out of the festival for Ben, but he shook it off. “I was bound to meet them sometime,” he said. “Now that's over.”

Rarely did Hilda Swenson attend anything such as a festival, but the neighbor from down the road had offered to stay with her mother, and she felt lonely. Loneliness was something that she knew how to handle, for she often felt that way. Nevertheless, the feeling seemed to be heavier than usual. So she donned her one dress, the one that she wore to church, and she exchanged her men's boots for shoes and made the trip to town driving her team.

For almost an hour she wandered around, pleased just to hear the music and to be with people. She was a woman who craved companionship and talk and music, but that had been taken out of life by her appearance—or so she thought. Now she simply enjoyed herself.

There had already been several races, and then she heard someone say, “The wrestling match is almost over. Let's go take them in.”

She followed the crowd who had gathered at the edge of town where there was a slight hillock. The hill was full of people, and out in front was a large man with his shirt off. He was blonde haired, smiling, and his white teeth showed against his sunburned face. He was a powerful man with a deep chest and heavily muscled arms, yet he gave the appearance of swiftness.

“Hello, Hilda.”

Taken off guard, Hilda turned quickly and found Reisa Dimitri, Ben Driver, and Dov Puskin approaching. Glad to see someone she knew, she said rather shyly, “Hello.”

“Come to see the wrestling?” Ben smiled.

“Oh, I suppose so. He's a very strong-looking man.”

“That's James Kincaid,” Ben observed. “I grew up with him. He put us all on our back even though he was younger than we were. I thought I was something. He just picked me up, slammed me down like I was a baby. I think he's beat every man in the county now. Powerful man, and a good fellow, too.”

At that moment a man stepped out wearing a light gray suit with a string tie and a white broad-brimmed hat. He called in a bull-like voice, “Well, I reckon it's about over, folks. James here has put every man that challenged him down. Looks like he's gonna win this nice heifer.” He turned, and a young man wearing a straw hat came out leading a beautifully proportioned calf.

“Oh, she's beautiful!” Hilda said. “Isn't she beautiful, Reisa?”

“I think she is.”

“You want calf?” Dov said suddenly.

Hilda's eyes blinked with surprise. “What did you say, Dov?”

“You like the calf?”

“Oh, yes.”

“I get her for you.” Without another word he strolled toward the contest, calling, “Wait! I will wrestle.”

The crowd murmured, for indeed Dov Puskin was a sight to behold. He still wore the pants that he had worn from Russia now tucked in the top of his boots. He wore no hat, his black hair shone in the sunlight, and his beard covered his face.

“Look at the size of that fella,” Hilda heard a man standing close beside her say. “Who is he anyway?”

“I don't know, but he looks big enough to give Kincaid a throw.”

“He can't whip James Kincaid,” the first man said firmly. “Nobody can.”

Hilda watched as Dov approached the man apparently in charge. “I wrestle,” he said.

“What's your name? I don't remember you.”

“Dov Puskin. Come from Russia.”

“This is for local folks.”

A voice called out. It was Sam. “He's local. He stays with us, Franklin.”

Franklin turned to the wrestler, who stood there eyeing Dov cautiously. “What do you say, James?”

“He'll have to take off that shirt. It'd get in my way,” Kincaid said. There was confidence in his tone. He had never been beaten, and although the man was big, he had wrestled big men before. He knew all the holds, was lightning fast, and now he smiled and said to Dov, “Good luck to you.”

Dov nodded. “God bless you, sir.”

His mild words surprised Kincaid, and then Dov drew off his shirt. A murmur went around the crowd for, indeed, the massive trunk that seemed to swell upward ended in a pair of oak-like arms and a strong, firm neck that swelled out from his shoulders.

Mr. Franklin said, “You know the wrestlin' rules?”

“No,” Dov said. “Tell me.”

“No gouging.”

“What is gouging?”

“You can't use your thumb to pull a man's eye out.”

“No, God forbid!” Dov said, shocked by the idea.

“No biting.”

Dov bared his white fangs. “Not even a little one?”

“None at all,” Mr. Franklin said. “The man that gets pinned loses.”

“What is pinned?”

“That means if this man can put your shoulders on the ground, he wins. If you can put his shoulders on the ground, you win.”

“Da, I understand.”

“All right.” Franklin stepped back to the edge and said, “Start!”

Dov stood bolt upright, his dark eyes watching James Kincaid. He was perhaps the calmest man in the crowd, for there were bets being made now. It had been difficult to find anybody to take a bet against Kincaid, but now some offered two to one, and a few hardy souls chipped in.

“Give me that ten dollars you were going to give me for clothes, Reisa.”

Reisa fished out the ten dollars, and Driver turned to the man. “Two to one on the Russian.”

“Done.” The tall man with a heavy cavalry mustache grinned. “You'll lose your money, son. Kincaid ain't as big, but he's strong and fast as a bolt of lightnin'.”

“He put me on my back enough, but I feel he's about due for a lesson.”

As for Hilda, her face flushed as she watched Dov. Kincaid slowly circled him, bent over in a crouch with his arms out. He made a feint at Dov, but Dov never moved. This, for some reason, disturbed the smaller man.

“He's never seen anybody like Dov before, Hilda,” Driver said. “What he tries to do is to get a man to make a move at him—stick out an arm or something. When he does, he's a goner. Kincaid's so fast he can grab that arm and flip a man over his shoulder before you can blink.”

Again and again Kincaid tried to feint the huge man before him out of his position. It all failed, however, and finally the crowd began to grow impatient. “Come on, Russian, do somethin'!”

Dov, despite the calls, did nothing. He simply turned slowly, his feet planted firmly on the ground.

Finally Kincaid saw that his tactics would not work. He moved so close that Dov stuck out both arms to catch him, and instantly Kincaid grabbed Dov's forearm. He turned himself and heaved—and that was when he got the biggest surprise of his life. Many a man he had thrown over his shoulder and pinned, but this was like trying to pull a tree. He gave a tremendous lunge, but Dov simply stood there.

And then suddenly Dov reached out and got his hands on James Kincaid. Kincaid struggled and fought, but Dov had him by the upper arms. He slowly began forcing Kincaid down, and Kincaid kicked and tried to throw Dov off balance. But it was no use. Inexorably Dov forced him down.

When Kincaid was on the ground, he held one shoulder up. Dov simply leaned his full weight on him until Kincaid could not hold him.

“Pinned! He pinned him!” Sam Hall yelled. “He wins!”

A cheer and applause went around, for while James Kincaid was a well-liked man, it was always good to see that a champion isn't absolutely unconquerable.

Franklin came out and slapped Dov on the back. “All right. Let him up. You win.”

Dov rose and picked Kincaid up and set him on his feet. “You good man,” he said. “Ver' strong.”

Kincaid was a study in astonishment. He shook his head silently, then said loudly, “Me? I'm nothin' but a baby. I thought I was half a man at least. What's your name again?”

“Dov. Dov Puskin.”

“Well, Dov, give me your hand. You're a better man than I am.”

A cheer went up at Kincaid's good humor, and then Dov turned to the boy with the calf. He took the rope and led the calf to Hilda. Every eye was upon him as he handed her the rope. “Here, Miss Hilda. Your calf.”

Hilda looked up at the big man, who now smiled down at her. Tears came to her eyes, and her lips quivered. She could not speak, for no one had ever done anything like this for her before.

She knelt and put her arm around the calf, burying her face against the silky hide. The calf twisted her head and turned to lick her in the face. Aware of the murmuring around her, she did not know what to do. She hated being looked at, and now half the people in the county were there.

When she rose, her eyes swept the crowd, and she saw many people smiling and heard them whispering. Taking a deep breath, she held out her hand, which was taken immediately. Dov's big paw enclosed hers and held it with a reassuring warmth. “It was—it was noble, Dov,” she whispered. “No one ever did—such a thing for me.”

He did not release her hand for a moment but squeezed it, exerting a fraction of his powerful strength. “Come. We will tie her to the back of your wagon.”