October, 2009       Issue #1

What Happened to Pa?
by Ellen Gray Massey

“Whip, whip-poor-will!” George whistled the all-safe signal. No answer from the woods where he hoped his father would answer.

“Give it again,” his twin Sarah said.

“Whip, whip-poor-will.” George waited until he counted to fifty and repeated. Still no answering call from the woods.

“Do you think he's all right?” George asked his grandpa.

“He hasn't had anything to eat in three days since the Confederate soldiers have been following us,” Sarah said.

Grandpa smiled. “Don't you worry none about that son of mine. He can live off the wild right enough. Born and bred in the mountains, there's no flat country militia like them soldiers behind us the last few days gonna find him. He's out there, sure enough. Now that the soldiers have turned off, let him know it's safe to come in tonight.”

George repeated the whippoorwill signal. Waiting a few minutes he repeated it. Nothing.

Though worried that Pa didn't answer or come in to their camp, the twins reasoned that he didn't hear George's call. Their pa was probably farther away than usual because for so long the soldiers were close to them on the trail. And in the flatter land, he didn't nearby woods for cover.

Ever since the family fled their home in the Tennessee mountains where the Confederate scouts were kidnaping men for their army, Pa had traveled in the woods parallel to the family's two wagons. The Pattersons didn't believe in slavery and Pa wouldn't fight against his country. They were almost to the safety of Missouri that stayed in the Union.

That night only the twins' little sister and brother slept well. The twins and the adults expected Pa to return any minute. The moon had set and it was just before dawn when Sarah crawled under the wagon to speak to George. He was also awake, but Pa and Grandpa were finally asleep. The twins huddled together on the other side of the wagon so they wouldn't disturb the sleeping family.

“We've got to find Pa,” Sarah said.

“Yeah. Something's wrong or he'd have come in. We have to be detectives. Let's tell Ma we're going to look for him.”

“No, she won't let us go. Grandpa won't either. He'd think he's the one that ought to go look for Pa.”

“But we can't just take off,” George said. “They'd worry even more. Remember, we promised Ma we'll tell her whenever we went anywhere?”

“Then let's tell Lillie. She'll handle Ma and Grandpa when they wake up.”

Since all the twins had to do was put on their shoes, it didn't take them long to get ready. George grabbed his hat and Sarah tied on her sunbonnet. They knew the sun would bear down on them soon.

Very quietly, Sarah reached into the back of the wagon and touched their little sister lightly. “Sh-h-h,” she cautioned.

Lillie woke up quickly. “What . . .”

“Sh-h-h. Don't wake Ma. We're going to look for Pa,” George whispered. “No one else knows. Can you handle things here?”

Lillie sat upright. “Sure. What'll I tell Ma and Grandpa?”

“You be the detective. You figure it out. We're sure Pa is in trouble or he'd be here by now. We've got to go.”

Lillie nodded her head vigorously.

“We'll be back by noon at the latest,” Sarah whispered. “Even if we don't find him.” Lillie started to cry. “Hush, Lillie, we'll find him.”

George reassured her. “We'll be careful. We'll be back. You see to things here.”

Ma stirred and said sleepily, “Sarah, you girls hush your whisperings now and go on back to sleep.”

“Yes, Ma,” Sarah said.

The twins melted into the darkness.

In the early light Lillie stared at the spot where George and Sarah disappeared into the tall grass and brush beside their wagon. She did not lie back down on her pad. As she stared, deep in thought, her worried frown changed into a slight smile. Until the sun peeped over the eastern horizon and her mother woke up, the child sat quietly, still watching the spot where the twins vanished.

When the twins were far enough away from the wagon no one could hear them, George asked, “How are we going to find Pa?”

“I don't know. We've got to think.”

“Every night when he comes back to the wagons, he comes from the north side of the road.”

“That's where we are,” Sarah said. “He nearly always travels on this side if there's enough trees or bushes to hide him. Let's look on this side.”

George agreed.

“But we know he was okay last night because he answered us, so we've just got to check where we went yesterday,” Sarah said.

“That's right.”

“How far do you think we came yesterday?”

“Fifteen miles, maybe.” George hesitated. “That's a lot of miles to look. We can't do that and get back before noon.”

“We can look as far as we can.” Sarah also was beginning to get discouraged that they wouldn't be able to find their father. It was just too much country to cover.

“No use looking in the open spaces,” George said.

“No, he'd not travel there. He'd go in the woods whenever he could. Or in hollows where no one could see him from the road.”

Though the sun hadn't risen, they could see across the open flat land to some trees about a couple of miles back the way they'd come the day before.

“Let's head over there,” Sarah said, pointing toward the trees. “We'll look where we think he would have gone.”

“Okay. I'll go through the tall grass here and you follow along the road. See that biggest tree standing just a bit apart from the others? The one with all those dead limbs on top?” Sarah nodded. “We'll meet there.”

Sarah nodded again. “We shouldn't separate, should we?”

“We'll cover more ground that way. Most of the time we can see each other. When we can't, we'll signal with the whippoorwill call.”

“Remember to give the jay call for help if you see anything or if we need to get back together,” Sarah said as George dashed off into the tall grass. He was short enough that Sarah soon lost sight of him in the tall prairie grass. She knew, however, that if her father walked there, his height would give him away.

The road was free of traffic this early. To make better time, Sarah hurried along the north shoulder of the road. She looked carefully over the eighth of a mile stretch of land between her and George. As the twins walked, George jumped up a couple of times to see over the grass. He waved.

Sarah slipped into a small hollow beside the road when a horseman trotted toward her. When he passed, she cut across the open land to the tree to meet George.

George's mouth was turned down with discouragement. “He's not here.”

“Of course not, dummy. We've not come far enough. If Pa was this close, he'd have heard us or signaled in some way. Now let's look real hard in this stretch of trees. I remember yesterday that we traveled beside them for a long time.”

“I noticed them, too,” George said, cheered up a bit. “I remember thinking that Pa wouldn't have much trouble keeping out of sight in them.”

“These woods aren't very wide. Let's spread out and look. But don't get where you can't hear me,” Sarah said.

“We'll call every few minutes. If Pa's here, he will hear us. So keep listening.”

“What'll we look for?” Sarah asked.

“Footprints in the dirt, mashed leaves, bushes broken off, anything to show he's been here.”

“George, you know Pa wouldn't leave any tracks. That's why he's not with us. He doesn't want anyone to know he's out here.”

“He couldn't erase everything. That would take too much time. He couldn't keep up with us if he did that.”

“He wouldn't erase the footprints, he'd just be careful where he stepped so he wouldn't leave any.”

“Then how can we find him?” George asked.

“If he's in trouble, he'll leave us something that we'll recognize. He knows we're detectives now.”

“That's right. But we won't know what it is until we see it. So we need to keep looking.”

The twins carefully criss-crossed the wooded area. The trees lasted for about three miles in length along the road, but the woods were only about a quarter of a mile wide. It was easy for them to cover the area. They didn't see anything that indicated anyone had been in the woods recently. Every few minutes one of the other would give the whippoorwill call. Though they listened carefully, among all the natural forest sounds, they didn't hear a return call.

“Up here a ways is about where I noticed the soldiers weren't following us any more,” George said. He became excited. “And Sarah, I just remembered, I think I heard horses north of the main highway, but I didn't pay any attention to it. That could have been the soldiers.”

“That's this side of the road. If it was the soldiers, maybe they saw . . .” Sarah didn't finish. They both feared what might have happened.

At the far edge of the woods they came to a narrow dirt trail.

“I bet this is where the soldiers turned off,” George said.

Both children ran to the trail to look for footprints. There were many prints in the narrow trail, but none distinct. All the marks they could make out were made by shod horses traveling north.

“Soldiers!” George said. “I was right.”

The prints showed that the riders were traveling two abreast, or sometimes single file as some tracts covered others. The twins followed the trail for a few minutes.

“Hey,” Sarah said. She stooped to look more closely at the ground. “Look here.” She pointed to two or three boot prints pointing south along the side of the road. George looked at them closely. “Do you think that's Pa's?” he asked.

“I don't know. Would you recognize his tracks?”

“Only that they would be big. These here aren't big enough. And the tread is from new boots. Pa's boots are pretty worn out.”

“Yeah, Ma is worried that his boots may not last the whole trip with him having to do all that walking. Grandpa's extra pair of boots are too small for him.”

Sarah squatted to examined the tracks more closely, “I think these tracks were made longer ago than yesterday.” She pointed to one print that was blotted over. “You can see where it has rained a little on them.”

George crossed to the other side of the trail. “Here's a fresh print on this side,” he said. “It's going north.”

The twins studied the print in the dust carefully. George put his foot beside it. “It's big enough for Pa's. And look, see this?” He was excited as he pointed to the heel. “Look, part of the heel on this print is missing. It looks like it is worn down.”

“Here's another print like it.” Sarah followed the line of signs. “Someone walked out of the woods here on the east side.” She was so excited she was almost dancing.

“Yes,” George said, “and he turned north.”

“Let's follow them. I think they are Pa's.”

“But that doesn't make sense. if it is Pa's, he wouldn't turn north away from the road. He'd just cut across the trail into all that good timber we just came through.”

“Yes,” Sarah said. Her mouth turned down in disappointment. “He wouldn't leave the main road.” She walked out into the field a few feet on the east side of the trail where the prints entered the roadway. “But someone has been through here recently.” She saw not only prints in the ground, but noticed that some of the grass was bent over where a foot stepped on it.

“We never saw any prints like these in the woods across the trail,” George said. “If that is Pa's print, then he went north from here, not on west like we did.”

“I think they're Pa's,” Sarah said. “Let's follow them.”

Encouraged that they were following their father's path, the twins headed north up the narrow road. They had to move slowly because there were long stretches with no prints. Several times they thought they had lost his trail completely, when one of them would find a trace of another print.

“Maybe he walked in the weeds where there would be no prints,” Sarah said.

“Look here,” George exclaimed. He pointed to the toe of a print. The rest was covered by the print of a horse's hoof. Then they found two more prints partially covered by hoof prints.

“If that is Pa's print under there, then the soldiers are behind him,” George said.

“And it doesn't look like he was worried! He didn't turn off or start running.” Sarah looked up the narrow lane. “George, he didn't know the soldiers were behind him.”

“It sure looks that way. But why would he keep going north away from us?”

Sarah couldn't answer that.

Alarmed, they followed the trail around a sharp bend. The ground that had been level up to this point dropped down rapidly into a creek bottom.

“I know why Pa left the main road. He was coming to the creek for water,” George said.

“Yeah, that's it. And he never thought that the soldiers would turn off this little trail.”

The boot prints disappeared under a jumble of hoof prints.

“Looks like the horses stopped and stomped around here.” George's eyes bugged out. “This is where they caught up with Pa.” He grabbed Sarah and darted behind a bush looking around for soldiers.

They heard nothing. All they saw was the hoof prints continuing down the slope toward the creek.

“They're gone. Come on.” Sarah walked cautiously out to the trail studying the jumble of tracks.

The twins couldn't make sense of them. The only thing they knew was that the boot track was gone, or completely obliterated. As they debated what to do, they spoke softer and softer, until they were whispering. It was as if the soldiers they were following were just ahead of them and might hear them.

George spotted a blackberry vine loaded with plump, shiny berries. He stuffed a handful into his mouth. The sweet juice soothed his dry throat. Then he noticed something out of place.

“Sarah!” he whispered and pointed to a bit of red caught in the briars. “Look, a ragged piece of a bandana!”

“Probably one of the soldiers came too close and the stickers tore it out of his pocket,” Sarah said.

George studied the bush. “It's too low to the ground to come from a soldier riding a horse. This had to come from someone walking.”

Sarah pulled the scrap from the bush. “This looks like it's a piece torn off on purpose and stuck there,” she said. “See it even has some blackberry juice on it. Someone ate some berries, and wiped the juice off their hands.”

“But why only a scrap is here?” George asked.

Then both said together, “Pa's sign.”

“He left it for us, Sarah.”

“And he expected us to come looking for him.”

The twins had been so intent on following the boot tracks and glorying in the evidence they found that they forgot about giving the signal. Sarah remembered to give the signal call.

She gave the call as they always did. The family practiced so that their call wouldn't be mistaken for a real bird. She whistled it three times, counted to fifty, and gave it one more time.

All this early morning when they had been giving the signal, they had no reply. Though they didn't expect one now, from up ahead on the left side of the trail by the creek came the faint hoot of the owl. Danger! It came distinctly three times. The twins held their breath as they looked at each other in surprise. Then one final call.

“Pa!” Sarah whispered though there was no one in sight and the signal had come from a distance. “It's Pa for sure.”

George nodded. They ran down the hill. The trees soon gave way to open grassland. Below them in the valley was a detail of soldiers breaking camp. The twins stopped their headlong dash. Some of the soldiers had already forded the creek and were quickly swallowed by the dense line of trees on the other side.

George tapped Sarah's shoulder and pointed. At the edge of the group, with his hands tied behind him was their father. He was sitting on a draft horse that was tethered to a tree.

Sarah pushed George behind a bush. Without thinking what she was going to do, she said, “I'll go down and do something to get their attention. You cut Pa loose.”

Crouching low in the roadside brush, George nodded, then disappeared.

Sarah shoved her bonnet off her head to hang down her back. She loosened the end of one braid, smeared dirt on her apron and dress, and tore her sleeve. Then in plain sight, down the center of the trail, she ran screaming toward the mounted men who hadn't yet crossed the creek.

“Hey, there, girlie,” a red-headed soldier asked, halting his horse, “what's the matter?”

Another turned his horse toward her. “What are you doing out here?”

“Oh, please, mister. Please come! There's a big bear after my ma.”

“What?” the soldier started to laugh.

Sarah screamed, “A bear.” She sobbed so that she couldn't say anything more. The soldier's smile disappeared. The other men crowded around him and Sarah. Sarah pulled on his sleeve, “When my ma went to the barn, a bear got after her . . . She climbed up a tree.” Gasping for breath, she continued, “I seen you camped down here and come after you.” She pulled some more on the soldier's sleeve, speaking rapidly, “I live just over there.” She pointed east up the valley. “Quick before the bear gets her. He was shaking the tree. Quick! Go on down the creek a little ways, you'll see our clearing.”

“Here, girlie, slow down. Come ride with me,” the red-headed soldier said, holding out his hand to pull her up behind him on his horse.

“No, no,” Sarah sobbed. “There's a bear there. I'm scared. I'll come home after you kill it.”

The red-headed soldier and three more spurred their horses down the valley, following the winding creek in an easterly direction. As soon as they were out of sight, Sarah slipped behind a tree. The two mounted soldiers who stayed in camp paid no attention to her as they watched the others gallop off through the grasses of the creek meadow.

“Sergeant won't like us tearing off like this,” one of them said. He looked across the ford in the creek where their sergeant and three other men were already out of sight. “He expected us to follow right after him, not go off traipsing after bears and a woman up a tree.”

“He won't care. Getting a bear skin will be worth the delay,” said his buddy.

“Yeah, the sergeant ain't in no hurry to get to Union City and join up with the main army. This moseying around the country suits him.”

Sarah didn't wait to hear more. She didn't think she was in any danger of them coming to look for her. She was tempted to try to find Pa's gun and sack of supplies, but decided that was too risky. She left her tree to sprint back up the hill. But first she looked for George and her father. Now that she'd gotten the soldiers' attention away from her father, the rest was up to George.

George jumped up from his prone position behind a log on the creek bank. Barely visible behind the horse his father was on, he cut the ropes binding his father's hands behind him. Pa's head jerked back for just a second. As George darted behind a tree he saw Pa grin just before he rolled off the mare and continued rolling until he reached the fallen log George just left. Since the soldiers were all either gone, or were busy watching the departing men, Pa dropped unseen from the creek bank onto the gravel bar under him. Since he was crouching to keep his tall figure from showing above the bank, George couldn't see him. He assumed he followed the creek west until it turned, blocking anyone in the camp from seeing him.

Now that he had freed his father, George headed southwest, in a diagonal line through the brush toward the main road. He didn't pause until he had scaled the hill, using vines and saplings growing out of the cliff-like hill to pull himself up. At the crest, he glanced back. From his height he had a view of the creek valley. His father was crouched in the creek bed. Since in his last view of Sarah she was on the trail just disappearing from sight at the bend, he figured she would run south to hit the road. He would intersect it farther west and wait for her.

Before he entered the stretch of woods he and Sarah had searched, he looked back at the camp. The two soldiers still there were sitting on their horses, chatting, unaware that the pack mare tied to a tree had no rider. Or that their prisoner had escaped.

George took several deep breaths to ease his panting and entered the protection of the strip of woods. He didn't stop until he reached the main road. Once there, he sat on a log to wait for Sarah. Exhilarated, he felt like shouting, but didn't. His excitement slowly ebbed from him.

A cloud covered the sun, which was now high in the sky. The cloud covered his spirit, also. Sarah wasn't yet in sight. He wasn't sure his father could make a complete escape. Maybe he hurt himself when he fell from the mare? Maybe when the soldiers discover he escaped, they would chase after him again? And this time shoot him dead, not just tie his hands behind him. He listened hard, expecting to hear a gunshot.

It was just too hard to live with this war going on. It wasn't fair. They were happy in their mountain home. All of this trouble they've gone through, and Pa still might be taken into the Confederate Army. Or killed.

The first drops of rain started falling when he thought he saw someone coming down the highway. Sarah? He jumped up, once again ready to shout when he heard the most beautiful sound in the world to him. The call of the whippoorwill came from behind him in the woods. From where his father should be. There were three bright calls, “Whip, whip-poor-will.” A pause. George counted to fifty. “Whip, whip-poor-will.”

Hoof beats coming swiftly toward him from the east startled him. He was about to hide in the grass until he heard the whip-poor-will call again, only this time from up the road.

He saw Sarah and Lillie on one horse and Grandpa on the other loping toward him. Sarah whooped and said, “We detectives did it.”

“Whip, whip-poor-will,” came a faint call from the strip of timber behind George.

Pa was safe.

End