Little Lost Leon: Chapter Ten

CHAPTER TEN

The ferocious tornado also destroyed the train depot in town, and the next one to the south was twenty-three miles away.  It took Leon a full week to make it.

Ironically, it was on account of Leon’s legs being so short that it took him so long to complete the first leg of his quest.  After all, it takes a great many more steps to traverse twenty-three miles when one’s stride is only around a foot-long.  It would have taken Leon much longer if he had not of been in such great physical shape from going on all those hunting trips with Michael, but Leon was bound and determined to make it no matter how long it took.

No, there was not another means of transportation available to Leon at the time.  For the family’s horses were scattered in the wind, and all of the surviving adults in the area were strictly focused on literally picking up the shattered remains of their lives.

When Leon made it to the next train depot, he faced another dilemma.  For the manager refused to sell him a ticket without having an adult to accompany him on the train.  Leon offered to pay him extra, but the manager threatened to call the police if Leon did not leave the premises forthwith.

Leon only left the office, and he kept out of sight until he could formulate a new plan.  Learning to live off of the land from Michael had kept Leon’s belly full along the way.  So, he did not need to go in search of food yet, and by the time night fell, Leon was safely aboard an empty freight car hopefully hooked to an locomotive headed south.

It was, and Leon was a hundred miles down the line by the time the sun came up the next morning.  Leon sure hoped to find a friendlier station manager there.

Alas, there were none to be found.  So, Leon repeated what he had done before, but the train did not stop for two days this time.

Leon’s belly was not so full now, but that was the least of his worries.  For the train had been going for two days to the  west—not south.

Nope, there were no friendly faces to be found around there, either.  There was, however, food!

Leon chuckled to himself when he found a picnic basket sitting under a bench in a building not far from where the freight car he had been riding in stopped on some sidetracks behind the depot.  For it reminded him of the stories he had been told about him being transported in a picnic basket when he was a newborn.  His face broke into a broad smile when he tasted the best finger-lickin’ fried chicken he had ever had, along with a small bowl of absolutely delicious potato salad.

“I hope you found my wife’s cookin’ to your satisfaction, young man.  Are you lost?”

Leon had been too focused on stuffing his mouth to notice a man coming into the building behind him.  Leon was relieved to see a smile on his face.

“No, sir.  I am not lost.  Although, I am two days too far west.  I am sorry for stealing your lunch.  It has been a while since I last ate anything.  Please tell your wife I enjoyed it very much.”

“Where are your parents?”

“Well, the people who have been taking care of me died, and I am attempting to find my real parents now.”

“How old are you?”

“Five and a half, sir.”

“I would have guessed to you to be around three.  You are rather small for five and a half.”

“Yes, sir.  So I’ve been told.”

“Don’t have no one else?”

“No, sir.  Everyone else I knew were either killed in the tornado or scattered in the wind.”

“Whoa, that is terrible.  Where did you come from?”

“Near the Canadian border in Vermont.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Whistling Pines, North Carolina.  It is around four days by train south of where I started.”

“Yep, you are quite aways west of the line between.  Hop the wrong train last stop?”

“Evidently.  I have money to pay for passage, but the station managers I have approached will not sell me a ticket without an adult to accompany me on the trip.  I am not opposed to such an arrangement, but I do not have anyone to ask.”

“Yeah, some station managers are real sticklers for observing the rules, and I suppose I cannot blame them.  For the railroad company would have their heads if they let someone so young travel by themselves on one of their trains.  Why don’t you come with me now.  I seem to be without anything to eat, and I am sure my wife can come up with some more of that chicken and potato salad.  I’ll be thinkin’ on your situation, and I just might be able to solve your problem with ridin’ on the train in a seat instead of an empty box car.”

Leon followed the man the short distance to his house.  There was a middle-aged woman puttering around the kitchen.

“Look what I brought home, Martha.”

“Don’t look like the usual stray pup, George.  Although, I do suspect that he is a stray.”

“He is at that, and he loves your fried chicken and potato salad.”

“Does he, now.  What is your name, young man?”

“Leon, mam.”

“‘Spose you forgot to ask—huh, George?”

George looked like his ears had been just boxed when he answered, “Yes, mam.”

Leon was thoroughly enjoying the show, but he was anxious to get underway in the right direction as soon as possible.  It turned out that Martha’s brother was a conductor on a passenger liner, and even though his assigned route was going east and west, George and her were sure that he could make arrangements with other conductors to chaperone Leon all of the way down to Whistling Pines.  It might take longer than four days, but Leon would surely make it there safe and sound.

Leon was too young to fully comprehend just how fortunate he was, but he did greatly appreciate being treated with such kindness.  Leon soon became the talk of the line in every direction, but invariably, he still had to keep emphasizing that he was not lost at least twice each and every day.  Hence, coming to be called, Little Lost Leon.

At one stop, a deputy U.S. Marshal transporting a prisoner wanted to take Leon into protective custody until a relative could be found to care for him, but some quick thinking by a couple of railroad employees convinced the deputy that the situation was being properly taken care of.  Since the deputy already had an important job to do, he did not pursue confirmation of what they were telling him.

Leon spent most of his time in the caboose listening to the conductor regale him with tall tales of their adventures while riding the rails.  Leon suspected that they were indeed just that—tall tales, but he found them highly entertaining, nonetheless.  Oh, and the conductors thoroughly enjoyed Leon’s huntin’ and fishin’ stories just as much.

Leon made a lot of very good friends on his iron horse ride, and he was even rather sad when it came to an end.  Ah, but he had finally made it.  For painted on the side of the depot facing the train was Whistling Pines, North Carolina.  Now what?

Now what?  Indeed.  For Leon did not know where Wayne’s place was located—let alone which direction his mother may have headed.

Ah, but at least Leon knew the name of the funeral parlor that had prepared Bonnie’s body for transport up north.  “With any luck,” he thought, “There will be some record of her there, which might contain a clue I can use to track down William and Marie!”

Leon was out of luck in regards to the funeral parlor angle, though.  For it had sold after catching fire a couple of years back, and all of the records had went up in flame.

Leon was sitting on the first step to the rebuilt funeral parlor looking very dejected when a young couple walked up and asked him what was wrong.  Leon gave the short version while they listened intently.  Included in it was what he knew of William and Marie.

“Honey, you have an uncle and aunt by the name of William and Marie—don't you?  Don’t they still live up on the ridge to the east?”

“Yes, I believe they do, but I have not seen them in many, many years.  I have heard that Uncle William comes into town every once in awhile, but Aunt Marie has not been seen out in public since that terrible thing happened to her all those years ago.”

“Could they be the William and Marie he speaks of?”

“I suppose they could be.  Maybe dad might remember something from…  What did you say, young man?  Was it five years ago?”

“It was actually around five and a half years ago, mam.  I was less than a week old at the time.”

“That’s right, around five and a half years ago.  We need to deliver some papers to the new owners here, and then we will be heading over to my father’s place.  He would have been the one to prepare the body of your grandmother back then.  He can tell us how to get a hold of my Uncle William and Aunt Marie, if they are the ones you want to find.”

Things were most definitely looking better for Leon.  The young couple had him standing before the old undertaker in a little more than an hour, and he did indeed remember handling Bonnie’s remains.  He even remembered seeing Leon in her picnic basket looking as sweet as he could be.

The old undertaker gave his son-in-law directions to William and Marie’s place, but since it would be dark by the time they made it up to their place high up on the ridge to the east, he advised waiting until the next morning before starting out.  Leon did not mind the wait a bit.  For his quest to find his mother and father was taking quite an emotional toll on him.

“Does my mother even want me to find her?  Would she take off again if she discovers that I am closing in on her location?  What will I do if I find her dead?  Would I ever be able to find who my father is?  Did he want to be found?  Was he even still alive?”  Leon entertained dozens of other equally disturbing questions in his mind, and Leon's emotions bounced back and forth between deep sorrow and blinding rage.

Leon awoke feeling as dog-tired as he did when he literally passed out on the bed he had been given to sleep in, but his determination would not let him falter now.  “Besides,” Leon thought, “I would be letting down all of my new railroadin’ friends.”

A very bright sun shining overhead indicated that it was around mid-morning by the time they reached William and Marie’s place.  Leon was not quite prepared for happened next.  For Leon had just told William who he was when Marie came running out of their cabin toward him.  She did not even break stride as she climbed up to Leon sitting on the wagon bench and snatched him up into her arms.

“Oh, God is so good.  He is so good, indeed.  I asked Him many times to return you to me, and He has answered my prayers!”

Leon did not know what to think.  Although, he was thoroughly enjoying the very warm embrace.

“Why don’t you-all climb down and come inside to sit for a spell?”

The young couple nodded their heads in agreement to William’s request.  They were in as much shock over Marie’s reaction to Leon as he was.  Marie reluctantly handed Leon down to her niece while she climbed down off of the wagon, but she snatched him right back to her bosom as soon as her feet hit the ground again.  Leon was not given a say in the matter.

They all went inside, and William explained what had happened five and a half years ago.  From the way Marie was holding him, Leon did not know if he had fallen into a trap that threatened to derail his quest to find his mother or not, but he relaxed some when William promised to take him over to Wayne and Bonnie’s old place and do what he could to help him discover information about his mother and father.

Leon started to feel like he might have moved into a very good new home for as long as it lasted by the time the young couple left to head back to Whistling Pines.  For Marie had even let him climb down off of her lap, and the food she fixed was very good.  William smiled as much that afternoon and evening than he had in many a moon—maybe ever, as far as he could remember.

“Yes,” William said to himself, “God is good, after all.”  William was still not ready to forgive Him for what He had put them through, but Leon coming back into their lives was a start.  William found himself hoping that they never found a trace of Ruby, but he had promised to help all he could.

It came to pass that William had nothing to worry about.  For after several months of pursuing every conceivable possibility, Leon and him were no closer to catching a whiff of Ruby’s scent than when they first starting searching.

Leon was actually just fine with that.  For his initial feeling of maybe finding a very good new home had proven to be most correct.

The next seven years of life high on the ridge flowed past like a swift mountain stream.  Leon spent more and more of his time searching for signs of game to bring home for supper than his mother’s very cold trail.  When he was not out in the woods, Leon was tending to the herd of dairy goats, which he loved doing just as much.

Marie acted like a completely different woman with Leon around.  William was so very grateful, and he had grown quite fond of the boy, as well.

Leon’s extremely high level of intelligence was clearly obvious to William and Marie, and they both felt very guilty over him not being in school.  He had not said anything to them about it, but from the way he had talked about being in that special school up north, William and Marie felt like it would be such a shame to not have Leon take full advantage of every opportunity to learn as much as he could about everything he wanted to.

The thought of Leon going back up north to go to school was unbearable to William and Marie, but William had overheard some talk about the new academy in Blue Valley.  The biggest drawback was it being indirectly sponsored by Shire, but if it was true that Manfred was indeed dead, that should not be much of a problem.

Of course, should not and would not are two entirely different things.  William had avoided going anywhere near Blue Valley all of these years out of fear of running into Manfred again, and he would have to make as sure as he possibly could that Manfred’s legacy was not being continued before he would allow Leon to attend that new academy.

Ah, but how was William going to be able make sure without actually going into Blue Valley again?  William did not have a clue.

After going around and around about it, Marie suggested that Leon should be included in the discussion.  “After all,” she argued, “He would be the one going to the school—not one of them.”

So, it was decided that they would approach Leon with the idea of attending the new academy in Blue Valley if it looked like it would be safe.  The plan was to talk to him about it after they came back from checking on Wayne’s old place the next day.  It had been a couple of months since the last time, and Leon always really enjoyed exploring that end of the cave.

William had confirmed what Wayne suspected about his opening being another for the same cave they shared.  He did this by floating a small capped bottle between them.

Leon wanted to make it all of the way through one day, but the passage became too narrow farther in for a person to squeeze through—even a person as small as Leon was.  No, Leon was no longer little and had even surpassed the average size for a boy his age around that area at that time.

Leon was indeed excited about going over to Wayne’s place again, but it was not for more spelunking.  For Leon wanted to hike over the ridge from that side to see if he could pick up the trail of a large bear he had seen signs of before.

Since Leon had never actually caught sight of the bear, he really did not know just how big it was, but he was fairly confident of his estimation.  For the depth of the bear’s tracks indicated that it was very heavy, and from the height of the bark that it had ripped off of the side of some red oaks Leon had come across, the bear was obvious quite tall.  Leon liked to fantasize about it maybe being a grizzly, but since William could not recall ever hearing of any around those parts before, it looked like Leon would have to settle for it just being a really big black bear.  More than likely a male, but even that would have to wait for visual confirmation.

The sun came up as anticipated the next morning, and it looked like it was going to be a glorious day.  Marie had even wanted to make the trip, and she sat next to her husband on the front bench of Wayne’s old wagon.  Leon sat on the bed tightly clutching one of his most prized possessions, which was a very old French musket he had found one day while hunting squirrels for supper.

Finding that old musket was surely a hunting story for the ages.  For Leon was nearing the bottom of a deep holler, as it is said around those parts, when he spotted something that did not look quite right sticking out of the side of what looked like a big pile of leaves.  As Leon drew nearer, it began looking more and more like a gun barrel.  When Leon grabbed ahold of the barrel, it moved.  So, he began to dig it out from under the leaves.

Ah, but the leaves were just on top of the pile, and Leon was soon looking at a very worn bearskin—a huge bearskin, at that.  Most of the hair was gone, but there was still enough left to tell that it had been a huge black bear.

No, there was not just a huge bearskin there.  For still attached in some places to the bearskin was the bear’s bones.  It turned out to be the complete skeleton!

The French musket was resting under what was left of the bear, but wait, there’s more!  Sorry, I just could not resist.

What the French musket was resting on was the skeleton of a man, who had obviously been killed by the bear.  Leon came to that conclusion based on the fact that the man’s skull was half caved-in with what was left of the bear’s right paw still resting on his skull.

Leon marveled that the remains had not been scattered up and down the holler by the wolves that used to roam freely in those parts back then.  Leon was, of course, just guessing that it had all taken place before the Revolutionary War, but he would have wagered that it was a pretty good guess.

Leon felt duty-bound to all creatures great and small to give those two noble warriors a fitting burial.  It took him several trips to move all of the remains back to their place, and he buried them next to each other on a rise not too far from the cabin.

Leon found the ending of bear’s and man’s lives to be quite poetic, and expressed this on the wooden markers he fashioned for their graves.  Chiseled into the man’s marker was, He killed the bear that killed him, and chiseled into the bear’s marker was, He killed the man that killed him.

No, Leon could not know for sure just what had happened.  That is, at least not in regards to what killed the bear.  For there was not a bullet hole in its skull or sternum.  Although, the rest of the remaining evidence at the scene made it fairly obvious to Leon that what had happened was that the man had shot the charging bear at close range, and the bear had continued on to kill the man before he also died.

Leon had spent months restoring the .69 caliber flintlock to perfect working order.  It was surprisingly not in all that bad of shape when he found it, and Leon only had to replace a few parts, which he built himself.

The man’s powder horn and shot bag was also still there, but the powder itself was no longer good.  Leon made a fresh batch of black powder under William’s watchful eye, and after cleaning up the musket balls, Leon was ready to give it a test.

William considered it a minor miracle that he had not busted out laughing all over himself when Leon first pulled that trigger.  For Leon had worked so hard and was so excited to see if his labor had borne viable fruit.

Leon had strapped the old musket tightly to a heavy wooden bench and ran a length of woolen yarn he borrowed off of Marie to pull the trigger at a safe distance away in case the musket exploded instead of firing as it should.  Oh, it had fired just fine, but the old musket had landed around ten feet backwards still strapped to the heavy bench.  Leon looked white as a sheet while thinking of what his shoulder could have looked like if he had of held the musket normally, and William had to quickly turn away in the hope of Leon not seeing just how close he was coming to losing all control of his serious composure.

In the spirit of full disclosure, William did not quite make it.  Granted, it was not nearly as bad as it could have been, but when he heard Leon mumble that he needed to load less powder next time, William could not prevent cutting loose with a very loud snort.  Leon grinned, and it was all good.

Leon fired the musket at a distance several times with the lower powder charge before actually holding it as he pulled the trigger.  It felt like he had been kicked by one of the draft horses, but it was tolerable enough to take on a bear hunt.

Leon liked the romance to going after a bear on a more equal footing with using just a single-shot rifle, but he did not want to end up like the previous owner of the French musket.  So, he also had William’s Remington Army strapped to his side.  The pistol had been carried by William as he rode with Jeb Stuart’s Confederate raiders during the Civil War.

Thoughts on the Civil War tore at Leon’s sensibilities from both sides.  For he was not at all in favor of slavery, but William insisted that the war was more over a state’s right to govern as their population saw fit than just the very controversial issue of slavery.  Leon could definitely get behind that, but he hated the fact that the south had wanted to split the union, which made the United States much less in the eyes of the rest of the world.  William countered by saying that the plan was to come back together with the north after they had taught them a lesson about what happens when they try to bully southern gentlemen.  This made sense to Leon, but he still hated the fact that so many had to die to try to prove a point they ultimately failed to prove.  William had cautioned him against speaking too freely about his thoughts on the war in the region, and Leon agreed that it would be a good idea not to.

At the very same instant that Leon thought he heard the report of a rifle, Marie’s head exploded all over him.  Leon was trying to wipe his eyes clean when he heard another report and saw William slump forward.  William jerked the reins to the left as he did, and the wagon almost tipped onto its side as the horses turned hard at a full gallop.

Leon was too much in shock over what had just happened to do anything but try to hang on.  He could see that William was dead, and he did not want to even look at Marie.

Leon just sat there in shock until the horses slowed down on their own.  He climbed down off of the wagon, and walked beside the horses as they made their way back home.

A blinding rage replaced the shock, and Leon wanted to go right back to have his revenge on whoever had done such a heinous thing.  Leon needed to go get his Henry repeater first, though.  It had been also carried by William toward the end of the Civil War, and Leon was quite deadly with it in his hands.

It was just after dawn the next morning by the time Leon made it back to Wayne’s place.  For he had taken the time to place William and Marie’s bodies in the opening to the cave over at their place.

Leon could see a man carrying in a armload of firewood into Wayne’s cabin.  As Leon crept closer, he could see that the man was not alone inside.  Leon decided that the best plan of attack would be to simply charge through the front door with the Henry firing as fast as he could lever in the shells.

Leon did not bother with bringing the rifle up to his shoulder.  He held it down to waist, and just pointed the muzzle in the direction of movement.

When Leon ran out of shells, he saw that he had put ten rounds into the man.  Leon also saw that he had put six rounds into a woman, who had been standing in the kitchen.

Still sitting quietly in their seats at the table in the kitchen were three small children.  Their faces were ashen, but they were not crying.  Leon felt like he could vomit, which he did.

After vomiting everything he had ate and thought about eating the last day or so, Leon collapsed in a heap.  While lying on the floor, he reached for the Remington Army still strapped to his leg.  Leon calmly pulled the pistol out of its hostler, held the end of its barrel tightly under his chin, cocked the hammer and pulled the trigger.