Bringing Ezra Back by Cynthia DeFelice Page B

through the forest by the killer called Weasel. But I’d never felt so afraid as I did right then. Looking into the emptiness of Ezra’s face frightened me so bad I wanted to run and not stop till I got home to the farm.
    Miss Mary was staring at me with a concerned expression. “It’s not a fit job to ask of a boy,” she murmured to the others.
    I shook my head. I could do it. I would do it. Holding the sack of food in my left hand, I braced myself as Pea-Head and Calvin draped Ezra’s arm over my right shoulder. I grasped him around the waist. He flinched from my touch, like he’d been burned, and grew stiff. It made me sadder than anything that he didn’t know me, didn’t know I’d never hurt him.
    â€œCome with me now, Ezra,” I said, soft and gentle as I could. “It’s not far.”
    We took a few slow, shuffling steps. The chain between Ezra’s shackled ankles clanked faintly. The rustle of old, dead leaves beneath our feet seemed louder, somehow, filling each step with fear of waking the Trasks.
    Miss Mary walked alongside us, looking scared and worried, too.
    â€œThanks to you, Miss Mary,” I whispered. “To all of you. I wish—”
    She broke in and said, “You just get home safe, you hear?”
    I swallowed hard. “I will.” I looked back and saw Calvin, Pea-Head, Betty, and Amelia watching us, their faces full of fear and hope.
    â€œI will,” I said again, trying to sound like I was sure, and wishing I could be.
    Ezra and I made our slow and painful way through the night. I didn’t dare look back, or think ahead any farther than the next step.

14
    THE SUN WAS GIVING off a pale light and I was more exhausted than I’d ever been by the time Ezra and I made it to the overturned cart. I don’t recollect much about getting there, other than being glad for every step we made without falling or getting caught by Trask.
    Somehow I pushed and rolled Ezra underneath and crawled in behind him. Then I thought to get water from the creek for what would likely be a long day hiding in that small, closed space. I worried what Ezra might do while I was gone. But when I got back, he hadn’t moved at all, far as I could tell.
    I held a cup of water to his mouth, tilted his head back, and poured slowly. In the sack of food from Miss Mary I found biscuits, cooked beans wrapped in the big leaves from wild grape vines, some chunks of cooked meat, several apples, and corn bread. I ate an apple, which was good, though sharp-tasting from being picked green. I couldn’t get Ezra to eat so much as a bite.
    All the time, I was listening for the sound of approaching footsteps. Miss Mary had figured Trask would come after us, and I didn’t doubt it was true. If he’d had dogs, we’d have been sunk. Being so close together in that small space, I could tell Ezra hadn’t been given the opportunity for a bath in a long while, and I knew I didn’t smell so good myself. I had to hope Trask didn’t know much about tracking. Pa or just about any Shawnee could have followed our trail quicker’n a fox on a rabbit.
    I didn’t mean to, but I dropped into sleep. A light rain had begun falling, drumming a rhythm on the boards overhead that lulled me. I dreamed about the night Ezra had led me and Molly through the forest to get to Pa. He’d been so quick and quiet, like a wild creature that could see in the dark. I woke up suddenly, and almost despaired again, wondering what could have happened to change Ezra into this dull, clumsy stranger.
    Then I heard voices coming our way, and realized that they must have been what woke me. The loud rustling of several people approaching through the underbrush made my heart jump into my throat. They were very close. Out of instinct or habit, I reckon, I put my finger to my lips in a signal for quiet, but Ezra wasn’t watching.
    â€œEven if he got the shackles off, they