Wanted

Untitled Part 4

Jeremiah only realised that he had a stowaway on the back of his wagon in the late afternoon six miles past Salesville, where he had first called to the flourmill to pick up what he had ordered on his way to the city and then dropped of some goods and parcels to the folks at the sawmill. He had called into them on his way into the city. They had been very helpful to him in the past and he was keen to return the favour so he asked if they had some errands to run.

He had a good idea who was hiding in the back but of course could not be certain. It would have been too much of a coincidence though, if it hadn't been the boy.

It was too late for him to go all the way back to the city now, but he could go back to Salesville and stop over there. He'd get there just before nightfall and could return to the city first thing in the morning. It would add at least one more day to his journey. There was only that far he could tax his animals to go on one day.

But then what? Hand the child over to McManus? Let McManus take him back to the orphanage? No matter where in the world, old or new, an orphanage was not a place for a child to grow, Jeremiah reminisced. He agreed with McManus on that, but he wasn't convinced about the idea of 'placing out' either.

McManus had called the boy a flight risk and was doubtful he'd get him there in the first place. Having seen the boy in action Jeremiah had no doubt McManus was right. He'd end up on the streets sooner or later. Not a fate either man wanted for the boy. They had agreed on that point too.

But could he even be certain McManus wouldn't fold if the sheriff and the pastor threw their weight around and tried to make him hand the boy back over to the Blacksmith? If McManus even was still there and had not yet taken a train back East at this stage?

Handing him back over to the blacksmith might be the only other option if McManus had already gone. The boy had run away from him, by the sounds of it for good reason? Maybe the blacksmith no longer wanted him? Why would anyone want a child that didn't want to be with them? Would the local committee take responsibility for the boy? He didn't like the way those bigoted idiots talked about the boy or the way they looked at Jeremiah himself. Nothing good would come out of bringing the boy back, other than he was rid of him. The whole idea of dragging children across the country to live with strangers who might or might not treat them well was wrong in Jeremiah's eyes. But was it any of his concern?

He hated those pretend do-gooders whose real aim was to quieten their bad conscience by cleaning up the streets, so they no longer had to look at the perpetuating misery that this new world has brought to so many instead of the chance of a life that they had been promised. Darn it, he hated colluding with them and didn't want to be a cog in that system, no matter how small. He had left it all behind so he wouldn't have to make decisions like this.

Goddam hyperactive dog and his stupid fear of the tarp, Jeremiah thought angrily. The dog had been trying to alert him from the beginning. He could see that now. But Jeremiah had misread what was going on and simply thought the dog was agitated by the canvas over the goods, just like the last time they had travelled together like this.

On the way to the town the restless dog had been constantly moving, jumping from the seat to the back of the wagon, resting there for a few minutes and then doing the same again in reverse. Occasionally he had even jumped down and walked alongside the horse. He wasn't a pup anymore but nobody had told him that. The dog had never been one for sitting down long.

On the way back however, with the tarp over the supplies he had bought in the city, the dog had been staying beside him on the seat. He had been agitated. Every so often he was turning around, putting his front legs across the backrest of the seat, whining, then turning around again on the spot and sitting down for a little while, often resting his head on Jeremiah's lap, looking up at him with those sad eyes. Like a child whining, 'are we there yet?' It wasn't unusual behaviour for the dog, but what was different this time was how he occasionally yelped at the tarp, and how he now and then kept nudging him in the side of his face with his nose and licking his chin. He knew Jeremiah didn't like that and Jeremiah had scolded him for it.