The next morning, Jaybird, Uncle George, and Phil found the Duesenberg jammed against the creek bank several hundred yards downstream from the road. It was half submerged in water and silt; it might be salvaged ...or not. The creek was no longer a raging torrent, but it would be a while before it returned to its more normal summer condition, i.e., dry. The money was gone.
"When the creek goes dry, we'll come back and look," said Uncle George, then added, "maybe we shouldn't say anything about this to your mom, Jaybird."
Jaybird agreed. "She probably wouldn't believe it anyway," he said.
"Money is the root of all evil," said Phil.
Jaybird nodded. "That's what my mom would say," he said.
"I guess we better start walking," said Uncle George, "maybe we can get to Cottage Farm in time for lunch."
"I'm hungry," said Jaybird.
They set off down the muddy, potholed, country road on their way to Cottage Farm, the memory of what had been lost occupying their minds and stifling conversation. The road was bordered on both sides by fences made from barbed wire, ostensibly to keep cows and horses from straying although none were in sight. Grazing would have been a task in any case as only occasional tufts of grass sprang up around the quarry of rocks; large and small that littered the fields. Here and there a forlorn Daisy did its best to brighten the scene. The early July sun scalded them as they made their way along the road. Jaybird was happy to be wearing shoes. Rin panted breathlessly, his tongue hanging out, trying to stay cool. After an hour and a half they at last came to the access road leading to Cottage Farm. The road was flanked by two white concrete posts six feet high and four feet square at the base, tapering to two feet square at the top. On each hung a two feet square white enameled sign with large black letters proclaiming:
GIESSOW'S COTTAGE FARM
Phil thought they had arrived, but it would be another hour, half of it walking uphill, before they got to the heart of Cottage Farm ... Grampa Giessow's store.
At two o'clock on a hot July afternoon, two days after the big Independence Day celebration, nothing stirred on Giessow's Cottage Farm except a swarm of industrious houseflies and an occasional indolent Bumblebee. Rin went straight for the community pump, while Uncle George knew where the cold beer and Coca-Cola was stored.
Jaybird's cousin Donnie was the first one to know he was back. "Jaybird!" he cried when he came into the store and saw Jaybird sitting in a booth drinking from a bottle of Coca-Cola. When Donnie had left Jaybird and Phil down near the river, Phil's long hair and beard had reminded him of an ape. He did not recognize the almost clean-shaven Phil, sitting across from Jaybird and Uncle George, drinking a bottle of Hyde Park.
Jaybird smiled. He couldn't wait to tell his cousin where he had been, and what he had done. He was ready to tell Donnie everything. He wanted to make Donnie think that losing a finger was something that everybody ought to try. "Hi Donnie," he said as casually as he could, making it sound as if they had been playing together the whole day.
Donnie was astounded. He had almost begun to believe that Jaybird would never come back. But here he was, dressed in some odd looking clothes, and sitting calmly with Uncle George and a guy who looked a lot like Jaybird's dad. He noticed the bandage on Jaybird's hand. "Is your hand okay?" he asked.
Jaybird continued to be cool. "They had to cut off my finger," he said.
Donnie was impressed. "Wow!" he said, "did it hurt?"
"Not much," said Jaybird.
"Wow!" said Donnie.
"I was batboy for the Browns," said Jaybird in an off-handed manner. In his mind this was much more significant than having his finger cut off.
Donnie blinked. The statement was too outrageous to have any credibility. He looked at Uncle George for a sign that he should believe Jaybird. Uncle George nodded. "Wow!" said Donnie.
"You should have gone with us," said Jaybird. He considered telling Donnie about the money he had won, but decided he would save that for another time.
"Can I go the next time?" asked Donnie.
Jaybird looked at Phil. Phil shrugged, "Ah don't see why not." he said.
Uncle George stood up. "Come on Jaybird," he said, "we have to go see your mom and dad."
When Jaybird's mom saw him come into Port O' Peoria she almost fainted. "Jaybird!" she screamed and engulfed him in the strongest bear hug she could manage. "Jaybird," she repeated, tears running down her face. She repeated his name three more times before she released him, and stepped back to look at him. When she saw the bandage on his hand, she grabbed him and hugged him again. When she finally managed to say something besides his name it was an attempt at an angry voice that somehow didn't sound sincere. "I'm very angry at you," she said.
"I'm sorry, mom," said Jaybird.
It was exactly the right thing to say. "I was worried, sick," she said and sniffled again.
"I'm sorry, mom," he repeated.
"Oh, Jaybird," she said and hugged him again. It was only then that she noticed Uncle George and Phil standing in the background. "What happened George?" she asked, but before he could answer she looked at Phil and asked, "who is this?"
Phil stepped forward. "Mah name is Daniel Stoltzfuss, ma'am," he said.
Jaybird's mom took a step back. "Are you Crazy Dan?"
Phil nodded. "Yes, ma'am," he said.
It was obvious to Jaybird's mom that this man, who she also noted, looked a lot like a younger version of her husband, was not crazy at all. "I don't understand," she said. What she didn't understand was why Jaybird would have gone away with this man, who up until this moment she thought was crazy, and what he was doing here in her cottage acting quite normal and even, she had to admit, polite. "Why are you here?" she asked.
"Ah came with Jaybird," he said, "to be sure his daddy is okay. Is Jaybird's daddy okay?"
Before she could answer, Jaybird's dad came out of the inner room. He looked at Crazy Dan, and then he looked at Jaybird. He looked from one to the other again, then said, "Daniel, where have you been my boy?" He walked over and gathered Jaybird in a warm embrace.
Pressed against his father's warm chest, Jaybird was confused. His father had just called him Daniel.
He pulled away and stepped back. It was his father all right. "Daddy," he said, "you just called me Daniel. I'm Jaybird."
Jaybird's dad shook his head. "No," he began, then looked around at the others, "...who's Jaybird?" he asked.
Jaybird sat heavily on the wooden top of the combination storage box, seating area that lined the corner dining area of the cottage. His mind was spinning. In the past week he had met Phil, the only grownup he ever knew who didn't treat him like a kid, he had survived a wild ride on a raging river, blown up his finger with a firecracker that almost cost him his life, he had fallen in love with a beautiful young girl, he had ridden on a railway cattle car, eaten Mulligan stew in a hobo camp, won $500 in a crap game with a single dice roll, served as batboy for a major league baseball team, won a fortune on a horserace, and lost a fortune in a flash flood. And now it seemed he might have lost his father.
Uncle George said, "Coach, Jaybird is your son."
Jaybird's dad sat next to him, and put his arm around Jaybird's shoulder. "My son's name is Daniel," he said, "And my name is Philip Stoltzfuss, why did you call me Coach?"
Jaybird's mom was distressed. "He's forgotten who he is, George," she said, "that crack on the head at the ballgame did it. He's gone back to who he was before."
Crazy Dan was rooted to the floor taking in what was happening. His mind, like Jaybird's was spinning. After all these agonizing years without a father, suddenly his father was back, and he turned out to be Jaybird's father, too. Jaybird really was his brother; somehow that seemed more important than having his father back.
Jaybird was dazed. Nobody had ever told Jaybird that his father's prior life was a mystery, that his father had suffered shell shock while fighting a war in a faraway land. He looked at Phil, who had just told his mother that his name was Daniel. He looked at his father, who had just called him Daniel. What was going on? Maybe he was the crazy one.
Jaybird's dad was more confused than anyone. The blow to the head had knocked him out, and when he regained consciousness he found himself surrounded by people that he did not recognize. He remembered leaving his wife and 10 year-old son in Grubville, promising to return. He remembered seeing his comrades die in appalling circumstances, and praying to God for mercy. And that was all he remembered; after that the screen of his memory was blank; he wondered if his prayers had been answered. But now here was his son Daniel sitting beside him, who were the others?
There was only one person in the room who knew the whole story. Crazy Dan understood immediately what had happened. In his many fantasies about artillery bombardments, German patrols, and hand-to-hand fighting, shell-shocked victims were included. He was the only one who could bring order to this confusion. He stepped forward, and grasped the hand of Jaybird's father who stood up to face him. Looking into his son Daniel's eyes only enhanced his confusion. It was like looking into a mirror. "Who are you?" he asked.
"I am your son Daniel, Father." Before his father could speak, Daniel reached for Jaybird's hand. "And this is your son, Jaybird," he said.
Jaybird's mom slowly realized what had happened. She quickly passed over the bizarre twist of fate that had dropped Crazy Dan into their lives ... there would be ample time to sort out the past, what about the future?
Jaybird's dad looked at his son Daniel as if he were crazy. "I have two sons?" he questioned.
"And a daughter," said Jaybird's mom, who had gone to the other room to fetch Jaybird's 6 month-old baby sister. She handed the smiling infant to her husband. "This is your daughter, Sarah, " she said.
Philip Stoltzfuss took the child and cradled her against his chest. He smiled. "Let the little children come to me," he said, "for it is to such as these that the kingdom of heaven belongs."
Daniel Stoltzfuss had seen it before. He had seen his father swept away from him in a sea of evangelism. He looked at Jaybird, his brother, who was staring at their father in shocked disbelief. Daniel turned quickly to his father and cried, "That's crazy!" He took the baby from his father's arms, and handed the infant to her startled mother. He then turned back to his father and shouted, "You ain't Jesus, and you ain't Philip the Evangelist neither ... yer name is Coach, you hear me?" He grabbed his father by the shoulders and shook him violently. "And you cain't leave Jaybird!" he added.
Jaybird's dad stumbled backward, and came up against the wall marking off the inner room. He stood holding his hand to his cheek, eyeing the man who had just shaken him so violently. Presently he slipped into a chair, and sat with his head bowed, his hands pressed against his ears. Everyone held their breath waiting to see what would happen next.
Phil started for the door, but was stopped by his father's voice. "Wait," he said, looking up, "... who are you?"
Phil resumed his walk toward the door, but stopped, as he was about to leave. "Ahm Crazy Dan," he called over his shoulder.