Two weeks later Jaybird was once again making his way along the rocky trail headed for his hideout behind the waterfall, when he spotted a Copperhead Snake sunning itself on the same flat rock he had seen it on before, that time a month ago when he first met Phil. He stopped to watch, fascinated as always by the mystery of the snake. Jaybird was back in his summer uniform ... nothing but a pair of short, raggedy edged cotton pants. The sun felt good beating down on his brown shoulders as he squatted beside the trail to watch. Rin came to sit beside him. He stroked the dog's smooth furry head. "It's a Copperhead, Rin," he said. He wondered what it would feel like to stroke the snake.
Somebody was reading his mind. "Ah wouldn't do that if ah was you, kid," he heard a hoarse, raspy voice from behind. His heart leaped with joy; it was Phil.
Jaybird jumped to his feet, and ran to embrace his brother. "Phil!" he cried, "where have you been?"
Phil was surprised and pleased by the enthusiastic greeting. "Hey, Jaybird," he said, "you actin' like ah been gone forever."
"I missed you," said Jaybird. "I needed you."
"What you talkin' about, Jaybird? You got your family ... your Momma, your Daddy, your baby sister, your Uncle George. You got a cousin. You even got a Gramma and a Grampa. What you talkin' about? You don't need me."
"You're my brother," said Jaybird.
Phil nodded. "That's so," he said. "Is your daddy, okay? ... Is our daddy okay?"
"I don't know," answered Jaybird, "he's different than he was. I don't think he knows who he is sometimes. He calls me Daniel. What happened to him, Phil?"
Phil shook his head. "It's the war, Jaybird," he said. "The war took him away from me, and now it's done took him away from you."
"What did you do when he left?" asked Jaybird.
Phil began to walk toward the waterfall as he thought about Jaybird's question. Jaybird and Rin followed. "That wa'n't the worst of it Jaybird," he said. "That came later when mah Momma left. For a long time ah didn't know she was gone for good, they told me she had went away for a visit, but she never came back. Ah don't think you need to hear about all that happened then, Jaybird. Ah don't think ah could even remember it all. It jist got so's ah wa'n't sure who ah was or what was happenin' to me. Ah think ah done some crazy things, Jaybird."
They sat on the bank next to the pool below the waterfall. Phil took off his shoes, and dangled his feet in the cool water next to Jaybird who was doing the same thing. Rin jumped in the pool and paddled around. "But you're not crazy anymore," said Jaybird.
Phil shrugged. "No," he said.
"What happened?" asked Jaybird.
Phil picked up a small round rock, and held it in his hand. He stared at the rock as if he expected it to help him answer the question. At length he tossed the rock with an underhand motion into the pool, and watched the concentric rings spread away from the point of impact. "You remember when ah left your cottage, Jaybird? After ah yelled at our daddy?"
Jaybird nodded. "The last thing you said was that you were Crazy Dan," he said.
"Ah did say that," said Phil, "and when ah said it ah thought ah was Crazy Dan, but since then ah been up and down these hills, and ah had time to do some thinkin'. Ah have to tell you, Jaybird, it was maybe the first time in mah life that ah ever did anything like that. Thinkin' ah mean."
"Was it hard?" asked Jaybird.
Phil shook his head. "Ah'll tell you what, Jaybird," he said, "it wa'n't hard at all because, you know what? Ah didn't even know ah was doin' it. Ah learned somethin' about thinkin', and what ah learned is that you cain't jist sit down and tell yerself ... now ahm goin' to think ... it don't work that way."
Jaybird agreed. "It don't work that way for me," he said.
"So anyway," Phil continued, "when ah was finished thinkin', ah had figured out some things. The first thing was that if ah had a brother it was mah job to take care of him ... It was the first time in mah whole life that it was mah job to take care of somebody else, and it kind of made me feel good, which is the first time in mah life ah ever felt like that. Ah think it means that in this life you ain't grownup unless it's your job to take care of somebody else."
Jaybird stared at the water. "Does it count if that somebody else is a dog?" he asked.
Phil looked at Rin. "Ah don't see why not," he said.
"So does it mean that I'm grownup? I don't feel grownup," said Jaybird.
Phil sighed. "Maybe it means that yer part way grownup," he said. "But listen to this," he continued, "when ah decided it was mah job to take care of mah brother, which is you, Jaybird, it occurred to me that one way to do that would be to go find all that money that got washed down the creek, because that money might come in handy if you needed to buy some things, maybe even pay a doctor to find out what's wrong with our daddy."
Jaybird straightened. "Uncle George took Grampa Giessow's tractor and hauled that Duesenberg out of the creek last week," he said. "We looked for the money for a long time, but we never could find it."
"That's because ah found it first," said Phil. "It's in mah bag over there behind the waterfall."
Jaybird still did not have a full appreciation of the value of $20,000 in 1937, but he knew it would make his mom happy. "That's really great, Phil," he said, "I really like having you for a brother."
Phil beamed. "You wanta go catch some catfish?"
THE END