wrinkled face.
“What’s wrong with him?” little Willy asked.
“Do you owe anybody money?” she asked.
“No!” little Willy answered. “What’s wrong? Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”
“That’s just it,” she said. “There is nothing wrong with him.”
“You mean he’s not sick?”
“Medically, he’s as healthy as an ox. Could live to be a hundred if he wanted to.”
“I don’t understand,” little Willy said.
Doc Smith took a deep breath. And then she began, “It happens when a person gives up. Gives up on life. For whatever reason. Starts uphere in the mind first; then it spreads to the body. It’s a real sickness, all right. And there’s no cure except in the person’s own mind. I’m sorry, child, but it appears that your grandfather just doesn’t want to live anymore.”
Little Willy was silent for a long time before he spoke. “But what about…fishing…and the Rodeo…and turkey dinners? Doesn’t he want to do those things anymore?”
Grandfather shut his eyes and tears rolled down his cheeks and disappeared into his beard.
“I’m sure he does,” Doc Smith said, putting her arm around little Willy. “It must be something else.”
Little Willy stared at the floor. “I’ll find out. I’ll find out what’s wrong and make it better. You’ll see. I’ll make Grandfather want to live again.”
And Searchlight barked loudly.
2
LITTLE WILLY
A TEN-YEAR-OLD BOY cannot run a farm. But you can’t tell a ten-year-old boy that. Especially a boy like little Willy.
Grandfather grew potatoes, and that’s exactly what little Willy was going to do.
The harvest was just weeks away, and little Willy was sure that if the crop was a good one, Grandfather would get well. Hadn’t Grandfather been overly concerned about the crop this year? Hadn’t he insisted that every square inch of land be planted? Hadn’t he gotten up in the middle of the night to check the irrigation? “Gonna be our best ever, Willy,” he had said.And he had said it over and over again.
Yes, after the harvest, everything would be all right. Little Willy was sure of it.
But Doc Smith wasn’t.
“He’s getting worse,” she said three weeks later. “It’s best to face these things, Willy. Your grandfather is going to die.”
“He’ll get better. You’ll see. Wait till after the harvest.”
Doc Smith shook her head. “I think you should consider letting Mrs. Peacock in town take care of him, like she does those other sickly folks. He’ll be in good hands until the end comes.” Doc Smith stepped up into the wagon. “You can come live with me until we make plans.” She looked at Searchlight. “I’m sure there’s a farmer in these parts who needs a good work dog.”
Searchlight growled, causing Doc Smith’s horse, Rex, to pull the wagon forward a few feet.
“Believe me, Willy, it’s better this way.”
“No!” shouted little Willy. “We’re a family, don’t you see? We gotta stick together!”
Searchlight barked loudly, causing the horse to rear up on his hind legs and then take off running. Doc Smith jammed her foot on the brake, but it didn’t do any good. The wagon disappeared down the road in a cloud of dust.
Little Willy and Searchlight looked at each other and then little Willy broke out laughing. Searchlight joined him by barking again.
Little Willy knelt down, took Searchlight by the ears, and looked directly into her eyes. She had the greenest eyes you’ve ever seen. “I won’t ever give you away. Ever. I promise.” He put his arms around the dog’s strong neck and held her tightly. “I love you, Searchlight.” And Searchlight understood, for she had heard those words many times before.
That evening little Willy made a discovery.
He was sitting at the foot of Grandfather’sbed playing the harmonica. He wasn’t as good as Grandfather by a long shot, and whenever he missed a note Searchlight would put her head back and howl.
Once, when little Willy was way
“What’s wrong with him?” little Willy asked.
“Do you owe anybody money?” she asked.
“No!” little Willy answered. “What’s wrong? Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”
“That’s just it,” she said. “There is nothing wrong with him.”
“You mean he’s not sick?”
“Medically, he’s as healthy as an ox. Could live to be a hundred if he wanted to.”
“I don’t understand,” little Willy said.
Doc Smith took a deep breath. And then she began, “It happens when a person gives up. Gives up on life. For whatever reason. Starts uphere in the mind first; then it spreads to the body. It’s a real sickness, all right. And there’s no cure except in the person’s own mind. I’m sorry, child, but it appears that your grandfather just doesn’t want to live anymore.”
Little Willy was silent for a long time before he spoke. “But what about…fishing…and the Rodeo…and turkey dinners? Doesn’t he want to do those things anymore?”
Grandfather shut his eyes and tears rolled down his cheeks and disappeared into his beard.
“I’m sure he does,” Doc Smith said, putting her arm around little Willy. “It must be something else.”
Little Willy stared at the floor. “I’ll find out. I’ll find out what’s wrong and make it better. You’ll see. I’ll make Grandfather want to live again.”
And Searchlight barked loudly.
2
LITTLE WILLY
A TEN-YEAR-OLD BOY cannot run a farm. But you can’t tell a ten-year-old boy that. Especially a boy like little Willy.
Grandfather grew potatoes, and that’s exactly what little Willy was going to do.
The harvest was just weeks away, and little Willy was sure that if the crop was a good one, Grandfather would get well. Hadn’t Grandfather been overly concerned about the crop this year? Hadn’t he insisted that every square inch of land be planted? Hadn’t he gotten up in the middle of the night to check the irrigation? “Gonna be our best ever, Willy,” he had said.And he had said it over and over again.
Yes, after the harvest, everything would be all right. Little Willy was sure of it.
But Doc Smith wasn’t.
“He’s getting worse,” she said three weeks later. “It’s best to face these things, Willy. Your grandfather is going to die.”
“He’ll get better. You’ll see. Wait till after the harvest.”
Doc Smith shook her head. “I think you should consider letting Mrs. Peacock in town take care of him, like she does those other sickly folks. He’ll be in good hands until the end comes.” Doc Smith stepped up into the wagon. “You can come live with me until we make plans.” She looked at Searchlight. “I’m sure there’s a farmer in these parts who needs a good work dog.”
Searchlight growled, causing Doc Smith’s horse, Rex, to pull the wagon forward a few feet.
“Believe me, Willy, it’s better this way.”
“No!” shouted little Willy. “We’re a family, don’t you see? We gotta stick together!”
Searchlight barked loudly, causing the horse to rear up on his hind legs and then take off running. Doc Smith jammed her foot on the brake, but it didn’t do any good. The wagon disappeared down the road in a cloud of dust.
Little Willy and Searchlight looked at each other and then little Willy broke out laughing. Searchlight joined him by barking again.
Little Willy knelt down, took Searchlight by the ears, and looked directly into her eyes. She had the greenest eyes you’ve ever seen. “I won’t ever give you away. Ever. I promise.” He put his arms around the dog’s strong neck and held her tightly. “I love you, Searchlight.” And Searchlight understood, for she had heard those words many times before.
That evening little Willy made a discovery.
He was sitting at the foot of Grandfather’sbed playing the harmonica. He wasn’t as good as Grandfather by a long shot, and whenever he missed a note Searchlight would put her head back and howl.
Once, when little Willy was way
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