Jaybird and Phil may have lacked a lot of things, but purpose was not one of them. They meant to find a doctor to treat Jaybird's hand, but their immediate purpose was to get the heavy wooden john boat off the boat rack and into the water. Phil was fuming and fretting, trying to free the boat from the chain that was binding it.
Jaybird was trying to be helpful. "I could teach you some good cuss words," he said noticing that Phil, in contrast to his dad under such circumstances, was not swearing loudly.
Phil looked at Jaybird and scratched his neck. "I only cuss when it looks like it could help," he said, "where did you learn to cuss?"
"My daddy taught me," Phil said proudly.
Phil nodded. "You did tell me you had a daddy," he said. He grabbed the chain and shook it vigorously. "...If your daddy taught you any cuss words that could help get this here chain off this here boat, you could go ahead and tell it to me."
"Scheiss!" said Jaybird.
Phil looked at Jaybird suspiciously. "Is your daddy a kraut?" he asked.
Jaybird had never heard anybody called a kraut. "I don't think so," he answered.
"Because if your daddy is a kraut," Phil continued, "do you know what that makes you?" Phil saw the confusion in Jaybird's eyes. "It makes you a German spy!" He took a menacing step toward Jaybird. "... And do you know what happens to spies? They get shot, that's what."
"I ain't no spy," Jaybird protested.
Phil took a strong grip on Jaybird's arm. "How do ah know that?" he asked.
Jaybird was thinking hard, trying to remember how spies got out of tough spots in some of the war movies he had seen. "My daddy says shit, too," he said.
Phil released his grip and took a step back. "Well, why didn't you say so." He turned back to the boat. "But you know what, Jaybird?" he continued, "shit ain't really a cuss word though a lot of folks think it is. Shit is what farmers spread on their corn to make it grow better, did you know that, Jaybird?"
Jaybird shook his head. "I didn't know that, Phil," he said, "... are you sure about that? What I know for sure about shit is that it smells bad, how could it make corn grow?"
Phil thought a moment. "They's a lot of things we don't know how they work, Jaybird," he said. "Did you tell me you was goin' to school?"
Jaybird may have been running away from home, but it never entered his head that he would not be going back to school in East Peoria at the end of the summer. "I'm goin' to start fifth grade when summer is over," he said proudly.
"Ah'll tell you what, Jaybird," said Phil, "when you start fifth grade why don't you just go on and ask your teacher why shit makes corn grow?"
Jaybird did not believe for a minute that anything as awful as shit could have a useful purpose. The idea that it could make corn grow was the most preposterous thing he had ever heard, but he didn't think there was much point in arguing with Phil about it. "Okay, Phil," he said, "that's what I'll do."
Phil began to jerk violently on the chain holding the boat to the rack, and to his great surprise, the wooden stake to which the chain was attached gave way and he fell heavily backwards landing on his rump at Jaybird's feet. Jaybird was a sucker for a sight gag, and the sight of the startled Phil looking foolish at his feet sent him into gales of laughter.
Phil sat on the muddy ground, his legs splayed out in front trying to decide whether to join in the laughter or to be angry. It had been a while since he had laughed, he couldn't remember the last time, but Jaybird's laughter was so genuine and spontaneous that he couldn't help himself. He joined in the laughter. The dog Rin seemed to also appreciate the joke, running in a circle around Phil and Jaybird yipping merrily.
Phil got to his feet at last and reached for the boat. "Come on Jaybird," he said, "let's get this thing down into the water."
"I ain't goin' to be much help," said Jaybird reaching for the boat with his good hand.
Phil nodded. "Never mind Jaybird, I think I can handle it."
Phil had dragged the boat close to the dock when he heard the first rifle shot. "Stay down, Jaybird," he called, " they's comin' after us ... let's get on outa here." He pushed the boat into the water. "Get in Jaybird, we ain't got much time."
With Jaybird, Rin, and their pitiful gear aboard, Phil shoved off just as they heard the second rifle shot. Phil let out a high-pitched war-cry. "Yee-hah!" He reached for his missing hat with the idea of waving it in the air. "I got to git me a hat," he cried.
They had moved only a few yards from the dock when Jaybird pointed to a group of trees extending out into the river a hundred yards downstream. "Them rapids I crashed on is just past them trees up there," he said.
Phil sat in the back of the boat trying to guide it with a four foot length of two by four, the nearest thing to an oar he could find before they pushed off. "You reckon we can shoot them rapids, Jaybird?" he asked.
Jaybird didn't think so. "I'll tell you what, Phil," he said," they wasn't much left of that boat when it smacked into them rocks yesterday."
But that was yesterday when the river was high and only the tip of the rocks showed above the fast running water. Today the water was down and the river was back to its more leisurely pace so when they rounded the point of land, they had a clear view of the big rocks strewn across the river and it was no problem at all for Phil to find a channel through the rocks and into the open water beyond.
"That was really good, Phil," said Jaybird, "you must of practiced a lot with boats."
Phil shrugged. "They really ain't a whole lot to steerin' a boat," he said modestly.
Jaybird knew it wasn't that easy, he felt like Phil should have a reward. "You want some bubble gum, Phil?" he asked.
"What's bubble gum?" asked Phil.
Jaybird smiled. It was something else he could teach Phil ... how to blow bubbles. "I'm goin' to show you," he said, "blowin' bubbles with gum is one of the things I almost like best in the world."
He reached into his bag and took out two packs of bubble gum, removed the wrapper from one and handed the 3 X 3 inch square sheet of pink gum to Phil. "Put it into your mouth and chew it," he said.
Phil looked skeptically at the gum then folded it twice, put it into his mouth and began to chew. " Sweet," he said, and launched a stream of pink juice from between his teeth.
"You can swallow that juice if you want," said Jaybird who was doing just that with his own piece of gum. "Watch this," Jaybird said. Phil watched Jaybird manipulate the pink gum with his tongue, stretching it into a thin film, then blowing until a small bubble started to form which quickly grew into a bubble large enough to obscure Jaybird's nose. Jaybird took the gum out of his mouth and proudly displayed the large bubble. "See," he said, "it's easy ... you can do it."
It wasn't easy for Phil, but he was determined to succeed; he worked the pink concoction around in his mouth trying to follow Jaybird's example. Jaybird sat on the middle seat facing back. Rin had stationed himself in the bow of the boat where he could watch carefully where they were headed. After several false starts Phil finally got one going. "Ah think ahm gettin' the hang of it," he said. "Ah can see why they call it bubble gum, but I'll tell you what, Jaybird, ... it's mah turn to show you somethin'"
Phil reached into his pack and rummaged around until he found what he was looking for. A package of chewing tobacco. When he found it he held it up proudly. "Lookee here, Jaybird," he said.
Jaybird had seen chewing tobacco before but he had never tried it. That was about to change. Phil opened the pack, reached in and withdrew a large portion holding it between his thumb and forefinger. "I never tried chewin' tobacco with bubble gum before," he said, "but I got a idea it's goin' to be pretty good." He put the tobacco in his mouth and began to masticate it along with the bubble gum. His right cheek bulged out with the mix. He held out the pack to Jaybird, "Come on Jaybird," he said, " give it a try." He expertly fired a thin stream of brown tobacco juice from between his teeth over the side of the boat. "It ain't a good idea to swaller tobacco juice, Jaybird," he said.
Jaybird took the pack and followed Phil's example, putting a generous portion into his mouth, using his tongue to mix it with the bubble gum, and beginning to chew on his molars. Like Phil his right cheek was puffed out with the tobaccobubble gum mix. Jaybird and Phil sat chewing and watching each other. After a few moments Jaybird tried to emulate Phil's feat of snicking the juice out from between his teeth. He only succeeded in spilling a torrent of brown juice down his chin and onto his shirt.
"You could use some practice with your spittin', Jaybird," said Phil.
Rin barked. Jaybird turned to see why. "It's another rapids," called Phil, "I'm headin' for the far bank." The boat was not easy to manipulate with nothing but a narrow piece of wood, but Phil managed to get the bow pointed in the direction of the left bank where they made a hard landing on a gravelly point of land some 50 yards upstream of a fast running, white capped stretch of the river.
Phil shook his head. "Ah don't know Jaybird," he said, "if this here river has all these rapids, we maybe should forget about tryin' to float on down to Morse's Mill, it ain't like I can carry this here boat you know."
It was the third rapids they had encountered since leaving the dock at Cottage Farm. The first was the same one that smashed Jaybird's boat the day before and they had been able to navigate through a narrow channel The second they had portaged by dragging the boat with great difficulty around the rocky obstacle. Jaybird was not much help with his damaged hand. Rin could only supply moral support which he did, cheering them on with enthusiastic barking.
Phil needed a rest. The prospect of a second portage coming so soon after the first was more than he could handle at the moment. Late afternoon shadows already covered the river though bright sunshine still splashed the high wooded bluff to the right of the northerly flowing Big River.
Phil lay back on the gravel his hands clasped behind his head . "Ah got me some fishhooks in mah pack, Jaybird," he mused, "ah bet we could catch us some nice channel catfish below this here rapids."
Catfish was not Jaybird's favorite food. "I got a jar of peanut butter," he said, "it ain't like we is fixin' to starve."
Phil shook his head. "Let me tell you somethin', Jaybird," he said, "... when you is on a bivuac you take your food whenever you get the chance, you can never tell when you might run out. And you know what? I bet you never heard of a hellgrammite."
Jaybird wasn't sure he had heard right. "What's that?" he asked, "somethin' to eat?"
Phil laughed. "It's somethin' to eat if you is a fish," he said. "Come on, let me show you."
Phil sat up, took off his shoes, rolled up his pant legs, and waded into the knee-deep water above the rapids. Jaybird stood on the gravelly land next to the boat, watching. Phil gestured for him to follow, "Come on," he said, "you got to see this."
Jaybird followed Phil into the water. Phil reached down, picked up a flat rock from the sandy bottom of the river, and examined the underside. He smiled and held it out for Jaybird to see. What Jaybird saw was the three-inch long aquatic larvae of a dragonfly clinging to the bottom of the rock.
"It's a hellgrammite," said Phil gleefully, "... fish bait." He grasped the larvae just behind its pincered mouth and pulled it off the rock. Jaybird watched, fascinated by the wriggling larvae.
"Look at this," said Phil, holding it closer for Jaybird to see. He pointed to a spot behind the larvae's head at what looked like a collar. "You just slip your hook through that their collar and let `er float on down to where them fish is waitin' to get caught." He laughed loudly. "Come on, Jaybird, let's get us some fish." He started back for the boat.
Jaybird followed. "I'd still rather eat peanut butter," he said.
Phil reached into his pack and found a small package containing some fishhooks and a roll of fishing line. "Nobody said you couldn't eat peanut butter," he said, "but ahm gonna git me some fish." He looked around. "Ah need a pole," he said.
Suddenly, and without any warning, Phil grabbed Jaybird around the waist, threw him to the ground behind the boat, and lay next to him flat on the sand. Before Jaybird could protest, Phil, his head close to Jaybird's, said, "Keep down, Jaybird, somebody's signallin'... look up there." Phil peeked over the edge of the boat and pointed to the high bluff far above the river.
Jaybird raised his head cautiously, looked where Phil was pointing, and saw what appeared to be the sun reflecting off a glass surface of some kind, possibly a mirror. As he watched he could see the light flash on and off as if indeed someone was signalling. "Do you think they saw us?" Jaybird asked while trying to make himself smaller and pressing closer to the sand.
"They might could have," answered Phil, "... them Huns is ..." he thought a moment. "...Them Huns is holdin' the high ground ... they got us in a tight spot, Jaybird." He looked behind at the line of sycamore trees bordering the river, about 20 yards from where they were lying. "You stay here, Jaybird, ahm goin' over to them trees to scout around." He took off running in a low crouch toward the trees.
Jaybird and Rin sat on the sand slumped behind the boat watching Phil run a zig zag pattern across the gravelly ground. Jaybird began to scratch Rin behind the ears with his good hand. "What do you think, old pal?" Rin sighed contentedly and snuggled closer to Jaybird. Momentarily Jaybird twisted around onto his knees and lifted his head warily to see if the light flashes were still coming from the top of the bluff. The sun had sunk lower in the west so the entire wooded hillside was now covered in shadows. Without his glasses Jaybird could make out no distinct forms that far away, but it was clear that the light flashes had stopped. He sat back down with his back to the boa, and began running his hand over Rin's back as he thought about the situation. Phil was nowhere to be seen. What could he be doing? "What's he doin', Rin? He's sure takin' a long time... I wonder if he ran into any Huns? Maybe he needs some help." Slowly Jaybird got to his feet and began to walk toward the trees, Rin at his side.
Jaybird and Rin had gone only a few steps when they saw Phil emerge from between the trees, looking back over his shoulder. When Phil saw them he waved, and came quickly toward them across the gravelly ground. In one hand he held a slim tree branch and was busily stripping it of leaves with his large Bowie knife. On his head was a large floppy black hat. "It's okay," he said.
"Did you see any Huns?" Jaybird asked.
"They was one," Phil answered, "but ah took care of him ... got me a hat too." He grinned.
Jaybird waited for Phil to say more, but he did not. Phil went to the boat and picked up his fishing line. "Ah think it's safe enough for me to go ahead and catch that there catfish now," he said.
While Phil fished, Jaybird and Rin explored. They crossed the short distance between the gravelly landing area and the line of high sycamore trees that bordered the river along its entire length. They emerged from the trees into a field of knee-high corn that stretched almost as far as Jaybird could see.
A cool evening breeze swept across the field rippling the plants like an incoming tide. It was quiet except for a few insects that were tuning up. A firefly blinked close by, followed by another. Jaybird heard the ghostly call of a Bobwhite. A cowbell tinkled. Rin barked one time; his ears perked up.
"What is it, Rin? Is somethin' out there?"
Rin loped ahead into the corn rows. Jaybird followed. They had not gone more than 10 feet into the cornfield when Jaybird stopped in his tracks at the sight of Rin sniffing at a man's body lying sprawled between the rows. Jaybird turned and ran back toward the trees.
Emerging from between the trees, Jaybird ran towards Phil who was busy at the moment pulling in a frantically struggling channel catfish. "Phil!" he yelled. Phil appeared not to hear above the rush of the water as he continued the task of landing his catch. When Jaybird got closer Phil looked up smiling and pointing to his fish.
"Phil!" Jaybird called breathlessly, "there's a dead body over there ... Rin found him."
Smiling broadly, Phil held up his still wriggling 12-inch catfish for Jaybird to see.
Jaybird waded into the water and stood next to Phil. "There's a dead body over there, Phil," he repeated.
Phil nodded. "Ah told you," he said, "ah took care of him. He ain't goin' to bother us no more."
Jaybird stared at Phil, trying to reconcile his own excitement and dread with Phil's nonchalance; he had never seen a dead body before. "Is the game over?" he asked.
Phil grasped the slippery fish in a firm grip and tried to extract the hook from its mouth. "What game you talkin' about, Jaybird?"
"The war game," Jaybird answered.
"War ain't no game, Jaybird," said Phil. He paused, "... unless" he stood holding the fish in one hand, his eyes seeming to glaze over as his mind wandered into unfamiliar philosophical territory. "You know somethin', Jaybird?" he said, "maybe war is a game ... except," he paused again, scratching his beard. He walked over to the boat with the fish in his hand. Jaybird watched in fascination as Phil pressed the fish hard onto the wooden middle seat and deftly sliced off its head with his Bowie knife. "Except they ain't no rules."
Phil turned the fish over, slit it down the middle, and walked back to the running water before spilling the guts out. It was beginning to get dark. "Ah think it's best if we just stay right here for the night, Jaybird, we might could get ourselves into trouble tryin' to float the river at night."
Jaybird sat on the edge of the boat still thinking about the game with no rules and the body lying just beyond the trees. "Ah don't feel so good, Phil," he said.
"Is that hand hurtin' you, Jaybird?"
Jaybird's hand hurt all right, but the pain had settled into a long continuing ache that was at least bearable. What bothered Jaybird more than his hand was the proximity of that dead body. "I'm scared, Phil" he said.
Phil, still holding the dead fish in his hand, came to sit next to Jaybird on the edge of the boat. "What you scared of, Jaybiird?" He asked.
Jaybird did not speak, but nodded his head in the direction of the trees.
Phil was puzzled. "What?" He asked.
"The dead guy."
"You scared of a dead guy? ... I don't get it, Jaybird, that guy cain't hurt nobody." Phil thought a moment, then added, "But you know somethin' Jaybird? You could be right, maybe he ain't dead, we better go see." He got up and started walking toward the now darkened trees. A pale three quarter moon was rising over the eastern hills.
Jaybird ran to catch up, Rin running alongside. "Wait a minute, Phil, it's too dark to see anything." The prospect of looking for a dead body in the dark was more than Jaybird could handle at the moment, and the idea of waiting by himself at the boat while Phil searched was equally distasteful. "And what about your fish?" He added.
Phil stopped walking. "Mah fish," he said, "ah need to cook up that there fish." The idea of searching for a dead body in the darkness left him as fast as it had found him. "We got to start a fire." He looked around and said, "We ain't got no wood."
"I ..." Jaybird started to say he could go get some but stopped when he realized it would mean going back to the trees.
Phil dismissed him. "Never mind," he said, "Ah'll go git some. You go on back to the boat and wait."
Jaybird and Rin retreated to the boat. Jaybird removed the cornflakes box from his sack and dumped out a handful which he offered to Rin. The dog eagerly accepted the offering, gulping it down with barely a chew. He downed four more handfuls in quick succession, giving the impression that he had not eaten for a month. Jaybird tried an experiment. He scooped three fingers of peanut butter from his jar, ate some, and offered the rest to Rin. The big dog smelled it warily, then tentatively licked it. He looked up at Jaybird as if to ask, "What happened to my cornflakes?" Rin happily ate the peanut butter when Jaybird mixed it with cornflakes. Jaybird, too, found the mixture to his liking. Jaybird and Rin continued to eat peanut butter and cornflakes until the cereal box was empty. Jaybird scooped cold river water into his mouth to wash down the meal. Rin lapped up the water.
When they had finished eating Phil had still not returned. "What's takin' him so long?" Jaybird spoke to Rin. He stood up and looked toward the trees where the rising moon cast a faint light. There was no sign of Phil. A chorus of bullfrogs sounded their "knee-deeps." Jaybird was uncertain. What should he do? "Should we go look for him?" He asked Rin. Rin gave a short bark and started toward the trees. Jaybird followed. Halfway there they heard sounds of a struggle, then Phil's voice yelling, "RUN FOR IT, JAYBIRD ... I'M CAPTURED.