Read Around the River's Bend Online

Authors: Aaron McCarver

Tags: #FIC027050

Around the River's Bend (9 page)

Today Sion was keeping the children occupied while Glenda packed a picnic lunch to take with them to the fair. Rees was reading his Bible while occasionally glancing up at the game of tag.

Sion whirled and pinioned Merin. “I've got you, boy! You're it!” Ysbail moved in close to taunt her brother, and Sion caught her with his free hand. “And I've got you! You both will have to be it now.”

“Let me go!” Ysbail cried, but Sion laughed as he held tight to both of them.

“I'm going to teach you a lesson for being so easy to catch.” He began to spin in a circle, and Merin laughed with delight while Ysbail screamed at him to let her down. Finally he got dizzy and stopped. He put the two down and noticed Rees and Glenda watching with smiles. “These youngsters of yours are going to wear me out.”

“You shouldn't pick me up like that!” Ysbail cried. “It's not genteel.”

“Not genteel! Why, is running and screeching genteel?”

“That's different.”

“Come, now. It was just a game.” Sion smiled. He put his arm around the girl. “Don't be mad. Let's have a smile, can't we?”

Ysbail tried to frown, but Sion poked her in the ribs and she squealed, for she was very ticklish. “There's my girl. Beautiful smile!”

Glenda came into the room to announce that the picnic lunch was packed and she was ready.

Rees winked at Ysbail and said, “Go put your prettiest dress on. There may be some young fellow there you could trap.”

“I'd have no boy I had to trap!” Ysbail said defiantly.

“Well, I'll pick one out for you and encourage him to say hello to you,” teased Sion. “A homely child like you needs all the help she can get.”

Rees laughed. “There, Ysbail. Now you know you're a homely child. Go get ready.”

Ysbail gave Sion a furious look, but he winked at her and whispered, “I may buy you some lemonade if you'll sweeten up.”

For the four months that Sion had lived with the Grufydds he had found a warmth and a pleasure he had never known before. Mr. and Mrs. Evans had been like parents to him, but he was enjoying being a part of a younger, fun-loving family. There was a gentle teasing going on constantly between the adults, and the children adored their parents. They had come to adore Sion, too.

Ysbail stomped off but returned in less than three minutes dressed in her fancy dress.

“Is everybody ready now?” asked Rees.

“I'm ready,” said Merin. “Can I have some money for lemonade and a candy apple?”

“We'll see when we get there,” Glenda said.

Sion said, “You should have asked me. I've got a pocketful of money.”

Merin asked Sion, “Will you let me play at some of the games? I may win a prize.”

“I don't see why not. It's fair day, isn't it?”

“You spoil these children,” Glenda said and tried unsuccessfully to frown. “Indeed you do.”

****

The fair had brought everyone out. It was a glorious October day, and everyone was glad to see the sun. The whole land smelled fresh, and the green was so brilliant it almost hurt the eyes.

The Grufydds arrived at the fair, where it seemed they knew everyone. Sion had met many people and spoke pleasantly to those he knew. He had spent little of his wages and had determined that this day would be memorable for Ysbail and Merin. And, indeed, he made it so. After two hours they had eaten themselves almost to the point of insensibility, and Glenda said firmly, “No more to eat, now, you hear me! And shame on you, Sion Kenyon, for abusing these poor children!”

“Well, I feel sorry for them. Having such cruel parents must be hard on them. They need a kind uncle to break the monotony of all the meanness you and Rees pour on them.”

“Why, you go scratch!” Glenda frowned, and then she had to laugh. “Go find yourself a nice, pretty young girl to bother.”

“Not before the contest,” Rees said.

“Contest? What contest is that?”

“Well, haven't you heard? There's a pugilistic exhibition. The ex-champion of Wales is here. He's a little bit long in the tooth now, but in his heyday he was a master. He's here to give an exhibition, and I've arranged for Sion here to have a go at him.”

Sion turned suddenly. “You've done what?”

“You're going to box the ex-champion of all Wales. It'll be an honor for you.”

“You didn't do that really, did you, Rees?” Glenda asked.

“Why, certainly I did! That's one reason I came to the fair.” He doubled his fists up and struck Sion on the shoulders. “I've seen enough of you to think you can hold your own.”

“Those were just amateur bouts. Nothing serious.” Sion had boxed with a few of Rees's neighbors—all miners and husky men. It had been no contest. He had been too fast for any of them, and he had been careful not to get hurt.

“Don't do it, Sion!” Ysbail cried. “He'll hurt you.”

“Hurt me! An old man hurt me? What must you be thinking of, Ysbail? Well, I'll have to just show you what it's like to be a real boxer.” He winked at Rees and said, “All right. Where's this former champion?”

****

The ex-champion of Wales, Robert Morgan, was puffing from exertion. The red spot on his right cheek glowed where he had been punched as he doggedly pursued the younger man who retreated before him. “I didn't come to do a dance, young chap. Stand still.”

Sion laughed. “If I stand still, you will break my nose and bloody my face.”

Robert Morgan threw a punch forward that would have demolished most men, but Sion was too quick. He simply moved his head and let the punch sail over him. He tapped the older man sharply in the chest and then sent a right that had some power. It stopped the man for a moment, and finally Robert looked out at the crowd and said, “Well, dear friends, this was to be an exhibition, but I can't keep up with this young lad, so I suppose the exhibition's over.”

The crowd clapped and cheered, for the champion had done well. He had boxed with two men before Sion and had beaten them soundly, but he had barely managed to lay a fist on Sion.

A short, thickset man came forward and said, “He's a will-o'-the-wisp, isn't he, Robert?”

“Aye, that he is. If he could hit as well as he can dodge, he'd be the new champion of Wales.”

Turning to Sion as he stepped out of the ring, the man said, “My name's Eric Craven. I manage fighters. I'd like for you to think about coming with me.”

Sion stared at the man as he put his shirt back on. “Be a pugilist?”

“Yes. There's real money in it for a good man. I could teach you how to hit. I can tell you're a strong enough bloke.”

“He can hit like a mule,” Rees said, coming up to stand beside them. “But I doubt if you'll make a pugilist out of him.”

“That's right,” Sion said. He looked over and saw Ysbail staring at him with wide eyes. He winked at her and then turned to say to the manager, “The only thing worse than going down in the mines would be to become a professional bruiser. Thanks—but no thanks.”

Chapter Six

A Man of Honor

The explosion came so quickly and so unexpectedly that Sion could not figure out what was happening. He had left the innermost part of the mine where he had been working next to Rees to get a new lamp, for his own wasn't burning properly. He was halfway back to the elevator shaft when suddenly it was as if a giant had sneezed behind him. A sibilant
whoosh
pushed at his back with a force that drove him forward.

Explosion!

Sion caught his balance and heard men's voices crying out. He knew that when an explosion occurred in a mine, it was usually the result of the gas from the coal itself that would creep into hidden crevices, and even such a thing as the light from a miner's headlamp could touch it off.

A rumbling sound came low, as if the earth were groaning, and the foreman was screaming orders, trying to organize a rescue party.

Sion had heard enough stories about mine disasters to know that timing was critical. Without thought Sion dashed forward. His light was gone, and he had to feel his way. He ran head on into a timber, opening a wound over his eyebrow, and felt the blood running down his face, but he ignored it. Shoving the timber aside, he remembered what it was like to play blind man's bluff. This was like that, only he was searching for a man who had befriended him and shown him kindness. There were others, he knew, whom he was not as close to, but his main thought was on Rees Grufydd. As he scrambled over the fallen coal and timbers, bruising himself and scratching his face and hands, he threw himself forward wildly. Finally, when he thought he was almost to the place where he had last seen his friend, he called out the man's name.

He listened hard, but heard no answer. Groaning timbers were threatening to give way, and as he moved forward, one of them did with a crash.

If I had been under that one, it would have been over for old Sion Kenyon!
The thought flitted through his mind, but he ignored it. He kept crawling and calling out, and finally he heard a faint whisper.

“Keep talking so I can find you, Rees.”

The sound continued, and Sion scrambled toward it. He rammed his head against a timber and blinked away the pain, but then he heard his own name called, and a joy rose up in him.

“Where are you, friend?”

“Right here.”

Feeling his way in the stygian darkness, Sion's hands fell on something warm, and he knew he had found his man. He whispered fiercely, “Are you all right, old chap?”

“I'm glad—you came.”

“Let me see what this is.” Feeling his way carefully lest he bring more timbers down, Sion discovered that a timber had fallen across Rees's legs. Part of the coal had half buried him, as well, so that only his face was exposed. Quickly Sion began to clear away the coal.

“That's—better. It felt like the whole earth were crushing me.”

“Hold still now. Let's see about this timber.” When he had the coal cleared away, Sion ran his hands along the rough lumber and found it was one of the eight-by-eight timbers used to shore up the ceiling. He felt along the length of it and found it splintered at one end. Putting his arms around it, he tried to hoist it and felt it heave and creak, but he could not move it.

“I'll have to clear the coal from off the timber before I can get you out of here, Rees.”

He worked quickly, afraid for the gas, which could still be present. A man could die from the gas as well as from the roof crashing in on him.

Finally he had the timber. He crawled under it, got his legs beneath him, and placing his hands on his thighs, he began to straighten up. At first it did not move, but then it creaked and then he felt it give a fraction. Concentrating all of his strength, he rose slowly only a fraction of an inch and then another—and then another. The timber was clear, but to keep it from falling on Rees again required every bit of strength Sion had. He moved his feet carefully until he had worked the end of the timber clear, then slowly lowered his body until he was on his knees. Finally he lowered it to the floor of the tunnel with a shrug.

Turning at once, he went back and said, “Now, we'll have you out of here.” He started to put his arms around Rees, and the man groaned. “What is it, Rees?”

“Me leg. It's broken.”

“I'll be as gentle as I can, but we've got to get out of this tunnel.”

As if in echo to his words, there was a crash as another part of the tunnel farther down gave in. “I'll have to hurt you, I'm afraid.”

“That's all right,” Rees whispered. But when Sion picked him up, he muffled a cry and then went limp.

“Better that you're out of it, my friend,” Sion said. He struggled back out of the tunnel, and as he moved, he passed the foreman.

“Who's that?” he demanded.

“It's Rees.”

“Is he hurt bad?”

“Leg is broken, I think.”

“Get him out of here,” the foreman said grimly. “Then come back and give us a hand if you can.”

By the time Sion got Rees back to the elevator, men were coming down to join the rescue effort. He considered helping them but wanted to get Rees to a doctor quickly. He carried him onto the elevator and waited, sitting beside him.

Rees began to stir and muttered, “Where is this?”

“On the elevator. You'll be all right, Rees.”

Rees did not speak again, and soon the elevator lifted them back to daylight. By the time they came out Rees was gritting his teeth against the pain. “You can go back and help the others.”

“I will, but first we'll see that this leg is taken care of.”

Rees put his hand out, and Sion took it. Rees said quietly, “Your dad saved mine, and now you saved me. Looks like you Kenyons have a habit of taking care of the Grufydds.”

“Little enough to do.”

“No, not little. You can be sure I'll tell me grandchildren about how you came out of the darkness to save me.”

****

Rees sat in a chair with his right leg on another chair, a cushion under it. His leg had been broken in three places, two above the knee and one below. His face was cloudy as he said, “Blast the leg! A man can't sit around forever.”

“It hasn't been forever, Rees,” Sion said. He was eating the porridge that Glenda had put before him, along with several pieces of bacon and fresh bread. It was still dark outside, but he ate heartily, knowing he would need his breakfast. During the three weeks that Rees had been recuperating, Sion had worked even harder, for he was now the breadwinner of the Grufydd family. He knew it did not sit well with Rees, for he came from a long line of independent men, but he had little choice.

Glenda had whispered once to Sion, “God sent you here, Sion, to take care of us and to save my man.” Sion was not as sure of the workings of God as Glenda or Rees, who often thanked God for Sion's presence when the mine had collapsed. Only two miners had died, for the rescue had been quick and the explosion had not been as fierce as some. Still, Rees was not going to mine any coal for some time, and he was restive under the notion. He toyed now with his porridge, a scowl on his face.

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