hit anybody?” Avery said.
“It ain’t our doing.”
“We were with them.”
“When they got in the boat they were on their own,” Tereau said.
“Look out!”
The left front wheel of the wagon struck a large oak root that grew across the road. The rim of the wheel cracked in two, and the spokes shattered like matchsticks as the wagon went down on its axle, skidding across the road to the edge of the gully; it turned on its side and balanced for a second, then toppled over the brink, pulling the mules down with it. Avery was thrown free and landed on his stomach in the middle of the road. The breath went out of him in one lung-aching, air-sucking rush, and the earth shifted sideways and rolled beneath him, and a pattern of color drifted before his eyes; then he could see pieces of dirt and blades of grass close to his face, and his chest and stomach stopped contracting, and slowly he felt the pressure go out of his lungs as he pulled the air down inside him. He turned over on his back and sat up. He looked for the wagon. There was a scar of plowed dirt where the axle had skidded across the road. He stood up and walked to the brink of the gully.
“Get down here and pull it off me,” Tereau said.
Avery could see the top portion of the Negro’s body lying among the splintered boards. The wagon had come to rest upside down, pinning Tereau’s legs under it. The mules lay at the front, twitching and jerking in the fouled harness. The kegs had broken open and there was a strong smell of whiskey in the air. The broken slats (their insides burned to charcoal for aging the whiskey) and the copper hoops were scattered on the ground. Avery slid down the bank and tried to lift the wagon with his hands. It came a couple of inches off the ground and he had to release it. He moved to the front of the wagon and tried to raise it by the axle. It wouldn’t move. He stooped and got his shoulder under the axle and tried again. He pushed upwards with all his strength until he went weak with strain.
“Find something for a wedge,” Tereau said.
Avery hunted along the gully for a stout fallen limb. He found several thick branches, but they were rotted from the weather. He searched in the grass and saw a railroad tie that had been discarded by one of the pipeline companies that worked in the marsh. The tie was embedded in the dirt. Avery pried it up with his fingers and saw the worms and slugs in the soft mold beneath. He carried it back to the wagon.
“I’ll slip it under close to your legs,” he said. “When I lift up you pull out.”
“I’m waiting on you,” Tereau said.
Avery fitted the wedge under the side wall of the wagon and lifted.
“Hurry up and get out. I can’t hold it up long.”
“I don’t feel nothing in my legs. The blood’s cut off.”
“I got to drop it.”
Tereau reached under the wagon and grabbed his legs under the knees and pulled.
“I’m out. Let it go,” he said.
Avery released the tie and let the wagon drop.
“Is anything broken?” he said.
“I don’t know. Hep me up.”
He put Tereau’s arm over his shoulder and lifted him to his feet.
“They ain’t broke, but I can’t go nowheres.”
“You can’t stay here.”
“We ain’t getting out of the marsh this way.”
“I’ll help you. Can you walk if I help you?”
“I ain’t going far.”
“Let’s get away from the wagon. They can probably smell the whiskey out on the river.”
“There’s something you got to do first.”
“What?”
“Them mules is suffering,” Tereau said. He took the long double-edged knife from his boot. The blade shone like blue ice in the moonlight. “Put itunder the neck. They won’t feel no pain that way.” He handed the knife to Avery.
Tereau leaned against a tree while Avery went over to the mules. The knife cut deeply and quick. He cleaned the blade on the grass and came back.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said.
Farther down the gully there was a rainwash that had
“It ain’t our doing.”
“We were with them.”
“When they got in the boat they were on their own,” Tereau said.
“Look out!”
The left front wheel of the wagon struck a large oak root that grew across the road. The rim of the wheel cracked in two, and the spokes shattered like matchsticks as the wagon went down on its axle, skidding across the road to the edge of the gully; it turned on its side and balanced for a second, then toppled over the brink, pulling the mules down with it. Avery was thrown free and landed on his stomach in the middle of the road. The breath went out of him in one lung-aching, air-sucking rush, and the earth shifted sideways and rolled beneath him, and a pattern of color drifted before his eyes; then he could see pieces of dirt and blades of grass close to his face, and his chest and stomach stopped contracting, and slowly he felt the pressure go out of his lungs as he pulled the air down inside him. He turned over on his back and sat up. He looked for the wagon. There was a scar of plowed dirt where the axle had skidded across the road. He stood up and walked to the brink of the gully.
“Get down here and pull it off me,” Tereau said.
Avery could see the top portion of the Negro’s body lying among the splintered boards. The wagon had come to rest upside down, pinning Tereau’s legs under it. The mules lay at the front, twitching and jerking in the fouled harness. The kegs had broken open and there was a strong smell of whiskey in the air. The broken slats (their insides burned to charcoal for aging the whiskey) and the copper hoops were scattered on the ground. Avery slid down the bank and tried to lift the wagon with his hands. It came a couple of inches off the ground and he had to release it. He moved to the front of the wagon and tried to raise it by the axle. It wouldn’t move. He stooped and got his shoulder under the axle and tried again. He pushed upwards with all his strength until he went weak with strain.
“Find something for a wedge,” Tereau said.
Avery hunted along the gully for a stout fallen limb. He found several thick branches, but they were rotted from the weather. He searched in the grass and saw a railroad tie that had been discarded by one of the pipeline companies that worked in the marsh. The tie was embedded in the dirt. Avery pried it up with his fingers and saw the worms and slugs in the soft mold beneath. He carried it back to the wagon.
“I’ll slip it under close to your legs,” he said. “When I lift up you pull out.”
“I’m waiting on you,” Tereau said.
Avery fitted the wedge under the side wall of the wagon and lifted.
“Hurry up and get out. I can’t hold it up long.”
“I don’t feel nothing in my legs. The blood’s cut off.”
“I got to drop it.”
Tereau reached under the wagon and grabbed his legs under the knees and pulled.
“I’m out. Let it go,” he said.
Avery released the tie and let the wagon drop.
“Is anything broken?” he said.
“I don’t know. Hep me up.”
He put Tereau’s arm over his shoulder and lifted him to his feet.
“They ain’t broke, but I can’t go nowheres.”
“You can’t stay here.”
“We ain’t getting out of the marsh this way.”
“I’ll help you. Can you walk if I help you?”
“I ain’t going far.”
“Let’s get away from the wagon. They can probably smell the whiskey out on the river.”
“There’s something you got to do first.”
“What?”
“Them mules is suffering,” Tereau said. He took the long double-edged knife from his boot. The blade shone like blue ice in the moonlight. “Put itunder the neck. They won’t feel no pain that way.” He handed the knife to Avery.
Tereau leaned against a tree while Avery went over to the mules. The knife cut deeply and quick. He cleaned the blade on the grass and came back.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said.
Farther down the gully there was a rainwash that had
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