“Right!” said Ken. “I sure wouldn’t miss doing pre-zackly that.”

Well . . .

It looked like I’d got what I came for, and it was getting kind of late by then. So I thanked Ken for his advice, and stood up. I was still just a little wobbly, though; kind of rocking on my heels. And Ken asked me if I was sure I could make it to the station all right.

“Well, I guess so,” I said. “I sure hope so, anyways. It sure wouldn’t seem right for me to ask you to walk me there after everything you’ve already done for me.”

“Why, you don’t need to ask!” Ken said. “You think I’d let you go all the way to the train alone, a fella that looks as peaked as you do?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to trouble you none,” I said.

“Trouble?” Ken said. “Why, it’s a positive pleasure! Buck, you just heist yourself up out of that chair, and walk Nick to the depot.”

Buck nodded and heisted himself up. I said I sure hoped I wasn’t putting him to any bother, and he said it wouldn’t be no bother a-tall.

“Just so’s you can bear with me,” he said. “Know I can’t be no ways as good a comp’ny for you as a fella like Ken.”

“Well, now, I’m sure you’ll be just fine,” I said. “Bet you’ll prove out a real interestin’ fella.”

“I’ll try,” Buck promised. “Yes, sir, I’ll purely try, and that’s a fack.”

6

I had supper down near the depot, buying a whopping big meal for Buck along with my own. Then, my train came and Buck walked me down to the car I was riding in. Not that I couldn’t have made it all right by myself—I was feeling pretty good about then. But we were getting along real fine, just like I thought we might, and we had a lot of things to say to each other.

I fell asleep almost as soon as I’d given my ticket to the conductor. But I didn’t sleep good. Dog-tired as I was, I drifted into a scary dream, the nightmare that was always a-haunting me. I dreamed that I was a kid again only it didn’t seem like a dream. I was a kid, living in the old rundown plantation house with my daddy. Trying to keep out of his way, and never being able to. Getting beat half to death every time he could grab me.

I dreamed I was ducking into a doorway, thinking I’d got away from him. And suddenly being grabbed from behind.

I dreamed I was putting his breakfast on the table. And trying to get my arms up when he flung it in my face.

I dreamed—I ‘lived’—showing him the reading prize I’d won in school. Because I was sure that would please him, and I just had to show it to someone. And I dreamed—‘lived’—picking myself up off the floor with my nose bloodied from the little silver cup. And he was yelling at me, shouting that I was through with school because I’d just proved I was a cheat along with everything else.