Catch and Release

Here's some more unedited story from the cutting room. It's messy, but I'll clean it up and mine for gold as I plan to use some of it. As it is below, it is too much. 

Caught!

“Alright, then, I think you wanted another story about Jim and me.”

Albert brightened and scooted a little closer and settled in against the wall.

“You so’ you gonna be okay?”

Albert nodded again and Mr. Sam started.

“This was sometime after the events at the vineyard. We come upon a village proper. It was pretty well shot up. Burned up, too. We was beat. Tired and hungry. Ya’see, we hadn’t eaten since that big meal Jim made us. Seemed we was always hungry, Berty. We figured that there might be food somewhere in the village but when we didn’t see nobody, we didn’t hold out much hope. But we had to look. The hunger made us crazy. Doing things that could get us all killed. We split into two groups and spread out. We started knockin’ on doors and checkin’ out the different places. Things was pretty picked over, but we did find some bread and cheese and some wine. I think that’s all those people ate. The wine was a little off but hadn't quite turned to vinegar. We didn’t mind. It was something and we was hungry enough to eat most anything!”

Mr. Sam paused to drink his tea. Albert had been watching the sweat running down the sides of Mr. Sam’s head. That glass of tea was also brown with beads of sweat trailing downward. Albert was mesmerized, but the spell was broken when Mr. Sam took the old, red bandana from his overalls and wiped his face, erasing the spell.

Mr. Sam smiled before easing back into the story. “Now, Jim was gettin’ itchy. He said that somethin’ didn’t feel right and I knew I’d be smart to listen to him. He had saved us on many occasions. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. Things was too quiet. Jim and I went into a café to see what we could find. It sure was dark in there. We was looking lamp or candle when… RATTA RATTA TAT!” Mr. Sam slapped his hand on the arm of his chair.  Rapid fire.. “The shooting started!” 

Albert jumped.

“Heh, heh, heh. Me and Jim was fine, Berty, but the fellas—why, they weren’t so lucky. Marcus and Henry had been by the front door. They both took bullets. Josiah had the Devil’s own luck. I found out later that he had taken off his helmet to get a smoke. Ye’see, he kept his cigarettes in the band of his helmet, and if it was windy, why, he'd use his helmet to block the wind and light up. At the time, it seemed pretty smart, but this time it cost him half of his head.”

Miss Lottie coughed. And shuffled her feet. Mr. Sam paused to look at her. Albert turned and snuck a peek as well, but she was still ironing.

“It all happened so fast. Of course, we didn’t know what was happening outside. We didn’t yell for the fellas because we didn’t want to give away our position. We hit the floor and crawled toward the back wall. We was still mostly in the dark so we had to crawl and use our hands to lead us. I whispered for Jim to stay close and we made our way into another room. Black as pitch,  it was. We felt around until we finally found a door. The shooting out front had stopped, but no one had come in, and that was a big problem. You know why, Berty?”

Albert hadn’t been ready for a question. He had been caught up in the listening. “Well…” He scratched his chin. “If the fellas had won, they would have come in to check on you and Jim, but if they didn’t make it—” The thoughts had begun to twist and turn, but he couldn’t quite grab the right thread. “Uh—if they got shot…” He completely forgot Mr. Sam.

“Heh, heh, heh. You was was almost there Berty. Let me help. If the fellas had been hit and could come in, the Jerries probably would come down to check on the bodies. And they should start to wondering why these three fellas was standing outside the tavern and they should go in and check. Neither thing had happened. There was a third option.We took that one and decided to sneak out the back. The door was barred with a timber. We lifted it out real quiet-like, then, on the count of three, we pulled that old door open and found ourselves facing nine o’them Jerries all with they guns pointed at us.”

“Geez, Mr. Sam. What‘cha do?”

“Well, there was nothing we could do except put our hands up. One of ‘em spoke a little English and told us to turn around, so we did. Right quick-like, too. We both still had our rifles but they was up high over our heads and with our backs turned we couldn’t see no targets even if we was foolish enough to try something. I knew that two of them fellas was coming our way ‘cause I could see their shadows growin’ larger and larger. They was movin’ real slow. They had their pistols out and were being real careful. I don’t know if they’d ever seen the likes of us before—two dark devils! Heh, heh, heh.” He laughed and then leaned in and lowered his voice. “Just about when they come up on us… BOOM!” He slapped his hand against the arm of his chair again, and again Albert jumped.

“Dang, Mr. Sam! Why do you keep doing that?” 

“It's for effect, Berty. Like in the movies! Heh, heh, heh!” He said and winked. “I really wanted to get yo’ blood racin’ so you could get a better idea of what me and Jim was feelin’! Anyway, the timber Jim had set against the wall inside the door had fallen, and when it crashed to the floor and scared all of us, Jim got spooked and grabbed one of them fellas. That Jim was quicker than a snake! He just dropped his rifle down around the guy’s throat pulled him in tight.”

“And then what happened?”

“Why, I’ll tell ya. One o’them other fellas got spooked, too, and squeezed the trigger. And you know what? He ended up shootin’ his own man!”

“Dang!” Albert stretched the word out as he said it breathing life into it.

“That’s right! That fella gettin’ killed probably saved Jim’s life. And you know what else?”

Albert just shook his head.

“I knew they was gonna be mad. And they was, too, but we had our hands up again, and, why, they’s mostly good people, the Jerries, at least this time they was, and they didn’t shoot. While two of their fellas ran to see what the noise was, four more kept their rifles on us. One took our guns, and the other looked after the man that got shot. When all the excitement was over, I realized that Jim that gotten hit, too.”

“But he—”

“Seems the bullet went right through Jerry and ended up inside Jim, and that’s where his luck ran out. We all got captured and locked up in a prison camp.”

“Whoa. Just like Hogan’ Heroes.”

“Not quite, Berty, but the Jerries weren’t so bad. The first thing they did after lockin’ us up was to look after Jim. They got the bullet out, give him some stitches and sent him back to us. Then it was up to us to tend to him. He was wrapped up in paper. Can you believe that, Berty? Like a Christmas present. Heh, heh, heh.”

Albert just shook his head. 

“At first, Jim looked like he was gonna be fine. Justino Galvani, that’d be Big Al’s daddy.” He winked and continued. “Why, he’d been with us since the vineyard. He helped look after everything. He spoke English and German so when we needed something he’d be the one could let them know. Mostly, we needed better doctoring supplies—clean bandages and such, but they only handed us a book. We thought maybe it was a doctorin’ book ‘cause it was in German, but Justino explained we was to use the pages as bandages for Jim. I figured it was because we was prisoners and they didn’t want to waste their good bandages on the likes of us but they had been giving Jim the best care they had at the time.  As the days went on, a fever took Jim. He started gettin' real worried, and his worry worried me somethin’ fierce. I ain’t never seen nothing that worried Jim.” He shook his head and paused—not slipping but searching for something. 

Albert tried to wait patiently but it was late and his patience was gnawing on his insides. He looked to Belvedere who was napping, then back to Mr. Sam. The old man looked scared. Albert chanced a peep in Miss Lottie’s direction but her ironing still held her attention. 

“Berty. There are some things in this world that is just too much to handle. For me. For you. Even for Miss Lottie.” He laughed but it was a weak effort. “Jim’s sleep had been mighty fitful. When he woke the next morning, he told me he needed to get out. ‘Now, don’t I know it,’ I says, ‘but we are probably safer caught up in here than out there with people shootin’ at us an’ tryin’ to gas us, and such.’ Jim said that things was gonna get real bad if we didn’t leave before nightfall. I thought he was talking about him gettin’ sick but there was somethin’ more to it. He said that it had to be before the sun took its leave again. He said something about figurin’ out how to do it, but he needed my help. I was to help get the fellas ready. Justino would get as many of the rest that could be trusted. ‘And the others?’ I asked, but he said nothin’. He looked hard at me. He had tears in his eyes when he told me to be ready—said we’d only get one chance. Then he just shut his eyes.” 

“I sat by him all day, Berty. Thought he done died a couple of times. He was so still, but as long as he was still sweatin’, I figured he was still alive. And fightin’, so that was somethin’.” He gave Albert a wink. 

Mr. Sam looked down at his empty glass, and without saying a word, Miss Lottie said, “I’m fetchin’ Mr. Sam some more tea. You want some?” Albert jumped. He had completely forgotten all about her. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

And she was gone. 

“As I was sayin’, I sat by him and I must have fallen asleep because the sun had moved clear to the other side of the sky. When I woke, Jim wasn’t in his bed.” Mr. Sam shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “And our cell looked empty, but I hadn’t heard a thing. Jim had to be there somewhere. He was standing in the corner of the cell. He wasn’t movin’, and if I didn’t know no better, I wouldn’ta thought he was real. And mind you, he hadn’t stood up by himself since he was put on that cot. Well, Berty, it was real dark in there, with just the tiniest little bit of sunlight creepin’ in through the window. There was shadows was playin’ across Jim’s face from the wires over the window. I walked over to him and whispered right in his ear. I said ‘Jim? You al’right?,’ but he didn’t answer me. I waved my hand in front of his face and still nothin’. It was real quietlike, and all you could hear were some of the fellas' breathin’ but not Jim. He was just standin’ there like a rock. ‘Jim,’ I whispered again. ‘You got to get back in bed. You need yo' strength.’ I didn’t know what to say or do, Berty. This was the second time I was scared that day and it wasn’t over yet!”

Mr. Sam leaned in close to Berty and barely whispered, “We stood there like that forever and ever. The sky had turned orange, and now it was red and the sun was goin’ down. I grabbed his shoulders hopin’ to pull him towards the bed, but he wouldn’t budge. It was like he was made of some kind of stone—cold and heavy. Then…” and he paused and glanced around again, “…I heard footsteps—one, maybe two men—and some muffled kinda gurglin’ sounds—not too loud, but I knew somethin’ was up. They was getting’ closer and closer. I tried pullin’ Jim some more, and I couldn’t move him. Closer and closer still, and I grew scareder and scareder. Ain’t nothin’ good that comes in the middle of the night under the cover of the darkness—especially when it don’t want you to know it was comin’.” He eyed Berty who was on the floor scooching in as close as he could get to Mr. Sam. 

“Berty, I’m not gonna tell you all of it. I made a deal with Carlotta and, besides, I just don’t want to talk about all of it ‘cause, somehow, I think if I do, I’m gonna give It too much power. I cain’t explain that so you just gonna have to trust me on this. Can you do that?”

He gave his head a little nod, but Mr. Sam just stared. It was evident that he wanted more. Mr. Sam had told him once that words held power. “Yessir,” he barely managed, and it seemed to be enough for Mr. Sam.

He continued. “I placed myself between Jim and the door—tryin’ to shield him as best I could. Ya’see, Berty. Where we was wasn’t exactly a prison or jail. Have you seen the ‘Great Escape’?” Albert nodded. “Well, it was nothin’ like that. It was just a room with a door that had a hole in it, and one small window with heavy wire on it to keep us in. I think they put that wire over the whole door. The walls were made of stone. If Jim hadn’t been so tore up, we both might found a way out but, as you might imagine, my biggest concern was Jim. The noises was gettin’ closer Berty, but then it grew all quiet. And someone… or something… was right outside our door. First, the doorknob jiggled, and then, someone started pullin’ on it real hard.” 

Mr. Sam paused here. His eyes grew wide. His lower lip started to tremble. Albert shivered. 

“What happened next, Mr. Sam?”

But he did not answer. He could not. Sweat started glistening on his forehead.  The tremors of his lip seeped into the side of his face.

“Mr. Sam? You alright?” Albert tugged lightly on his pant leg. “Mr. Sam?” he said more weakly this time, and then he yelled “Miss Lottie! Miss Lottie! Please come quick!” He stood up and put the near-empty ice tea glass to Mr. Sam’s head. He began rubbing Mr. Sam’s hand. Panic had set in. 

He heard Miss Lottie before he saw her. It wasn’t often that he heard her coming, and while Albert didn’t worry the kind of heat he was going to get from Miss Lottie, he knew it was coming. He knew she had arrived when the screen door slammed shut.

“Stand back, boy,” she said much more quietly than he had expected. Albert jumped back. She had a damp kitchen cloth and held it to his head and began to whisper in his ear. She pulled something from around her neck and placed it on Mr. Sam’s chest. She put her hand into the pocket of her apron then her hands were over his face. She was still mumbling. She started to sway as she placed her hand over his heart. Her words had taken on a sing-song quality. 

Albert had become a little frozen himself—entranced by Miss Lottie and her surprisingly gentle manner. Her song had him mesmerized. He watched her wipe his brow and neck. He couldn’t help but think that Grandmother had the exact same red and white checkered dishcloth in her kitchen. She whispered a few more words and kissed him on the forehead and stood up. Mr. Sam had dimes over his eyes and there was a dark, smudge on his forehead—like he had just gone to church on Ash Wednesday. When she turned around, Albert knew that she was going to let him have it, but she didn't say a thing. Instead, she reached down and put her hand on his shoulder. It lingered before she moved him toward the steps. She stopped him there, at the edge of the porch and stood quietly for a moment. Albert was still worried about Mr. Sam, but now his attention had been diverted to Belvedere who still slept under the tree. As they stood there, Albert wondered how his dog could have slept through everything that had just happened. He tried to look back at Mr. Sam—and did catch a glimpse of the old man there in his rocker. Miss Lottie’s words pulled him back and she finally said, “That old dog of yours… he sure seems to love you.”

This completely knocked Albert’s thinking for a loop.

“Keep him close,” she said as she gave him an encouraging push down the stairs. “It’d be gettin’ late. I ‘spect that you’ll get the rest of that story the next time. 

As soon as they made it to the road, the questions started and, as usual, Albert was full of questions. “I ain’t never seen him slip like that, boy, have you? I can’t believe he and Jim got caught. Do you think he’s gonna be alright? Well, I know that they were alright because they both made it home. I meant, Mr. Sam. Now.” Mostly he didn’t mind Belvedere’s quiet, but strong advice. He just wished that this time or just this once, he could have been a little more comforting.