Excellent One day at a time One Man's Calling : One Man's Calling, ch 60 by Wayne Fowler

In the last part Ben escaped prison while being carried unconscious. ^^^^^^^^ “Where are we, Tom?” Ben was uninjured and fully alert, though he had a pounding headache. “We’re in the water, Ben.” Ben didn’t respond to that. “We’re in the bay going east.” “I have to go back, Tom.” Ben, who was in front so that Tom could watch him, make sure he didn’t drown, stopped walking in the neck-high water. Tom had kept them at that depth for better obscurity, as well as the fact that walking was easier. Tom nearly tumbled Ben over when Ben stopped. Tom whispered, “Ben, you’ve escaped. You’ll go straight to solitary. Then Saturday morning they’ll hang you. And even if your appeal worked, it would be took back. If you go back, you hang. Pure and simple.” As Ben was thinking, his heart breaking over being an escapee and seemingly confirming the guilty verdict, Tom turned him around, away from the prison. “We need a boat.” “Tide’s coming in. That works for us,” Ben said, surprised that his words indicated buying into the escape. “Yeah, current’s to our back and deeper water’s easier to stay hidden. I think I see a boat.” Within minutes they were in a tiny row boat that was barely afloat. “Was warmer in the water,” Ben said. “That’s not a complaint, mind you.” Tom chuckled as he rowed. “There’s some buildings,” Ben said as he pointed in the direction for Tom to row. They gently beached the boat and then pushed it back into the current. They slopped their way through marshy muck to dry ground. Only one of the houses appeared to have any lights, even though it was still early evening. At the one with the light, the door toward the water opened. It was about 70 or 80 yards away, but Tom and Ben could hear a man clearly calling. “Ben, Ben, Benny!” Tom and Ben proceeded to quickly sludge their way, surprising the man with their response. “Huh. Was callin’ my dog, but c’mon. C’mon. Fore we all get shot. Wasn’t gonna, but I’ll light a fire.” “We’re escaped prisoners,” Ben blurted. “A’course you are. Stripes. Soakin’ wet in the dark. I’m dumb, but I ain’t stupid. Hah! That dog. She’ll come when she gets a stud ta mount her. In heat, don’tcha know.” “She? I thought you called Ben,” Ben said, shivering. “Hah! Here.” He tossed Ben a large rag that he used as a towel and Tom a throw blanket that he used while sitting. “Git them wet stripes off. Quick like. I’ll git this fire agoin’. Then we c’n figure out how ta dress ya.” Hah! “Ben. Now that’s somethin’. So now I know. Preacher up the road give me that dog when she was a pup. Said her name was Ben. I was curious, but she come to it, so…” He shrugged his shoulders. “That was goin’ on four year ago.” Tom looked to Ben and over to their host, and back again. “That’s how God works, Tom,” Ben said. “Oh, my manners. Tom and Ben,” he said correctly pointing. “I’m Ferdinand. But call me Fred. Everybody does. My pappy was a sailor. I tried ta be. Stole a little pouch a’ coin an’ jumped ship. Was gonna gold mine. Got catched an’ served five years right there where you boys run… swum from. Pappy was dead. Never had nobody else. Stayed right here workin’ for the fishery. Been at it more’n twenty year now.” Some hours passed as  they ate and warmed themselves by the fireplace. “Fred, we don’t want you to get into any trouble. Or to cost you anything.” Ben was sincere. “Aw. I heard they got a real warden now. Mine … Sheeze. He was sumpin’ – liked to watch boys whipped, he did. An’ sometimes for nuttin’. “An’ for money. Hah! Got this place for free from the old man, let me share it with ‘im. I nursed him into the grave. That ol’ man was good ta me. Yes, he was. Anyways, what Benny and I don’t eat, we got saved up for I don’t know what. Hire somebody ta put me on the pot, I guess. Hah!” After warming up and dressed in some make-do clothes, Ben and Tom accepted ten dollars each, thanking Fred profusely. “North,” Ben said in reply to the question. “It’ll stay dark for a few hours yet.” “Get to San Rafael. Not too far. They got a rail station.” Ben nodded. When Fred looked to Tom. “Can’t go home,” he said. “Busted my pa up some stopping him from beating my mother. Got ten years for it. Nearly eight to go. Guess I’ll go south. Got a rowboat out there.” “You’ll get picked up. You come to work with me. We’re short-handed. They’ll take ya. Work all day an’ late afternoon when we’re comin’ back in, well, you show that ten dollars to the captain an’ he’ll take ya to a San Francisco pier an’ pat chee on your bottom gettin’ off. Hah!” “Here, Fred. Take this.” Ben gave Tom his ten dollars. “No, take it. You’ll need it.” “Thank you, Ben.” “Thank you. You saved my life.” They hugged as Ben put his dried shoes on. “Thank you, Fred. And God bless you.” “Oh, yes. He has. He has. Hah! You two blessed me, too. And here.” Fred gave Ben a handful of dollar bills. Ben hugged him, before going out the same door he’d come in, letting the dog, Benny, in before closing it. +++ After waiting several hours, Ben hopped onto the train between cars, figuring he could hold onto the leeside until it slowed enough to hop off. He tumbled off just short of Novato, a small farming community. Ben thought he would freeze to death had it been another mile; but he survived. He elected to get something to eat, some better clothes, and continue his northerly route. It was midday when he got off the train in Santa Rosa. Ben was not particularly hungry, but he knew that he would be soon enough. He also knew that he would be needing some better, warmer clothes. Certainly getting out of California was important, but food, clothing, and shelter were, as well. God didn’t seem to be pointing in any particular direction. It wasn’t long, walking what turned out to be Santa Rosa Avenue, that he smelled fresh fruits and vegetables, tomatoes, most dominant. He couldn’t remember when he’d last enjoyed a freshly picked tomato. He was suddenly famished. Another block of walking solved the mystery – a streetside produce stand, unmanned, with a sign reading HONOR SYSTEM. Another sign listed prices, all reasonable, Ben thought. With a dollar’s worth of purchases, Ben sat at the base of a young redwood tree, prepared to enjoy the bounty. “Might want this,” a voice said. Ben looked up at a man only somewhat older than himself extending a cloth in one hand and a salt shaker in the other. Ben accepted both with a thank you. The man sat beside him, and started peeling a fist-sized potato. Ben had no idea where either the potato or the knife came from. “Luther. I don’t recognize you.” The man smiled at Ben, offering him a slice of his potato. “Ben. Just got off the train.” After eating the potato, Ben thanked him. “Didn’t expect you to do a dance, but this potato saved Ireland. And it tastes fine, too.” “Does that,” Ben replied, taking a large bite of his tomato after lightly salting it. “Off the train, huh?” Ben nodded. “Need a job? My help went off to college last month and I could use help.” “Vegetables come with it?” Ben asked, smiling. He started work immediately after lunch. Author Notes Ben Persons: a young man following God's call Tom Thumb: an escaped inmate who carried unconscious Ben out through the break. Luther Burbank: botanist, horticulturist, and pioneer in agricultural science. He actually lived in Santa Rosa during this time.

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