Chapter 6

She came out of it slowly. A crawl to the surface of consciousness once more. Around her head, lights dazzled and blinked and her vision was blurred for a few moments as she listened to the hushed voices beside her.

"Poor little Sarah," Henry was saying, draping a damp, cool cloth over her forehead. "You just got all excited, honey, now just lay still!"

"Henry, Henry you have to get away," she groaned, trying to sit up. "We have to find Jimmy right now and get away, Henry!"

"Now, now, child, calm yourself," her Aunt Carol said warmly. "You got yourself all in a bother. Why you came up with such a crazy idea, I will never know!"

"Where's Jimmy, where is he?" she whispered frantically, her eyes clearing now and her mind coming back to normal. "Where's Jimmy, I want to know?"

"We already sent him back," Frank said, harshly, lighting a cigarette and puffing on it savagely. "That boy's in one hell of a lot of trouble! He's lucky the cops didn't toss him in the can for that stunt he pulled."

"Now, Frank, I told you before, it was my idea," the old man said softly, turning to confront his son. "You can't go blaming these kids for being so concerned."

"Yeah, well if we ever needed an example for things, this little trip will certainly do just fine," his son replied harshly. "Imagine, at your age, running off like that, you're gone, Henry, just gone."

"He is not, you bastard, he is not," cried Sarah, trying to get up out of the bed and attack her uncle. "I'd like to kick you in the balls for that, you mean bastard! You're just mean, that's all!"

Frank turned away in disgust and shook his head. "Say all you want, Missy," he called over his shoulder. "What's done is done, get used to it!"

With that, he pulled the door shut, leaving Sarah and her grandfather alone. Henry stared after his son, sighing and shaking his head, sadly. He blinked and Sarah was sure that she saw tears in his eyes.

"It hasn't been easy for Frank," he said quietly. "He's meant to farm, but he never really had the chance to decide that. I guess I always doted on his brother, that didn't leave much for poor Frank."

"I hate him, I hate him," snarled Sarah, breaking into tears and falling against her grandfather's chest, sobbing. "I wish he were dead. Dead, dead, dead!"

"No, no, don't say that, child," Henry whispered comfortingly. "You just don't know, that's all. You see, I had enough to send his brother on to college, where he was meant to go, but not enough for Frank. I think if Frank had gone, like he thought he wanted to, he'd have quit anyway. But it would have been nice for him if he could have made the decision instead of me."

Sarah could say nothing, then, just lay there, rocking back and forth in her grandfather's arms, the tears of sorrow pouring out of her in uncontrollable rivers. All hope was lost now, there was nothing to do but go home and face the dark, sad future.

By the next afternoon, they were back home, Frank making the final preparations for the home. Sarah listened to him talking on the telephone, her heart sinking as she heard her Uncle's voice.

She stared out at the fields beyond the house and noticed Henry walking through them in a slow, measured gate. Her mind flashed with an idea and she nodded determinedly as she rose from her chair, intent on doing one last thing for the old man she loved so well. Slowly, she walked out to the field to find him.