Tucket's Home by Gary Paulsen

Author:Gary Paulsen [Paulsen, Gary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-375-89005-5
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2011-08-31T00:00:00+00:00

HE AWAKENED to find himself covered with a blanket, his rifle at his side. It was still dark and Lottie had a fire going and was cooking a whole rear leg of venison on a spit over the flames.

Francis raised himself on one elbow. “That’s quite a bit of meat for breakfast.”

His voice startled her and she jumped and scowled at him. “You nearly scared me to death. And for your information it’s not breakfast. This is supper. You slept the clock around—all night and all day until dark again.”

Francis lay back and, looked at the fire silently for a time. He did not feel lost as he had before, did not feel ended. He could hear and smell the meat cooking and could hear the night sounds around them. Nearby the horses were standing, picketed, and he could hear them breathing. Off to the west a coyote yipped. “Grimes came to me,” he said.

“Came to you?” Lottie stopped turning the meat. “You mean in a dream?”

“He means a ha’nt.” Billy was sitting across the fire wiping grease into his bowstring. It was made from twisted deer-leg tendon and it dried out if not kept greased. “Grimes came as a ha’nt … a ghost.”

“No.” Francis sat up. “He came and sat next to me and told me it was all right. Then he got up and left and then I went to sleep.”

“It was a ha’nt,” Billy repeated. “He was worried about you and was coming back to tell you it was all right. Ha’nts ain’t all bad. Some of them are good.”

“What do you know about ghosts?” Lottie said. “It’s all stuff and nonsense. If Francis said Grimes came back to him, then Mr. Grimes came back to him, and if he said it’s going to be all right, it’s going to be all right. You go check the horses, make sure they’re still picketed right, while Francis and me think on what to do next.”

Billy hesitated, but something in her eye made him think better of speaking and he went to do as she said. She turned to Francis as soon as the boy was gone.

“Are you really all right, Francis? Because you haven’t been yourself for days and days.”

He held up his hand. “I’m fine.”

She turned the deer leg slowly. The fat dripping from it into the open flame sputtered and flashed as it ignited. “I was worried about you.”

He lay back and closed his eyes. “I’m all right. Don’t worry. I’m fine now. We’ll eat and sleep another night and then tomorrow we’ll strike north as best we can and see if we can find the wagon trail that Grimes said was there.” His stomach rumbled. “But for now, how much more are we going to cook that meat? I could eat dirt.”

Lottie smiled. He was back.

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