The Clock by James Lincoln Collier

Author:James Lincoln Collier
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: AudioGO
Published: 1992-03-03T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

I WASN’T GOING BACK to the mill, that was for sure. Not the way Mr. Hoggart was then, drunk and mad and ready to do anything. But I didn’t want to go home, either. What with being hit, and crying, and falling into the snow, and getting my coat ripped, I looked pretty bad. Pa and Ma would want to know what it was all about. I couldn’t tell them, because they wouldn’t believe me. Pa wouldn’t blame Mr. Hoggart for being provoked with us, he’d say. I was exaggerating, he’d say, in order to get out of my contract, he’d say. No, it was hopeless to try to tell them anything. I had to get cleaned up before I went home, so they wouldn’t ask questions.

Where could I go? I thought about the people we knew in Humphreysville—the minister, our friends. The people I knew best in the village were Hetty Brown’s folks. It’d be some comfort just to be there, and I could clean up a little.

I went on down the mill road, turned onto the village road, and pretty soon I came to their place. I knocked at the door. Hetty’s ma opened it. She took one look and her eyes went wide. “What on earth happened to you, Annie?”

I put my hands over my face and began to cry. Mrs. Brown sort of pulled me in, and took me over to the fire. Oh, my, that fire felt good.

“What happened, Annie?” Mrs. Brown said again.

“Mr. Hoggart was drunk. He whacked me and knocked me down. He’s always pestering me, and he’s trying to work Robert to death. He’ll do it if he can.”

She gave me a squeeze. “You just wait here and warm up.” She went out to the back of the house where Mr. Brown’s wheel shop was, and in a minute she came back with him.

Mr. Brown was the biggest man in the village, I’d always heard, and I could believe it. He was way over six feet tall, and his head nearly scraped the ceiling beams as he came into the room. He was so big that he seemed to fill up the room all by himself. But he was kindly; anyone could see that by the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. He came over and sat down in a rocking chair next to me.

“Tell me about it, Annie,” he said. “What’s this all about?” He put his huge hand over mine.

I was ashamed of crying, but the idea of somebody willing to listen to my story did it. After a minute I quit, and wiped my face off with the sleeve of my coat. “Mr. Hoggart was drunk. He whacked me and knocked me down. He’s always pestering me, and he’s trying to kill Robert. He’ll do it if he can.”

They both became very still and looked at me, because they saw I meant it. They knew that something bad was going on. Mr. Brown put his hand on my shoulder, and bent down a little toward me.

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