Anna Myers - Spy!

Anna Myers

For Elizabeth Joy Myers

You are a special treasure who came to us in May. How blessed we are to have a dimpled, blue-eyed baby girl come to be part of our family. At seven months you look mostly like your mother and her mother, and that will make you a beautiful lady. There is a special sweetness in your smile that I believe will always be there. How fortunate I feel to live only two blocks from you now so that I can see that smile often. You will grow up sweet, but you will grow up strong too. Welcome to our world, little treasure. It will be a better world because of you!

Love,
Nana

Also by Anna Myers

Red-Dirt Jessie
Rosies Tiger
Graveyard Girl
Spotting the Leopard

The Keeping Room
Fire in the Hills
Ethan Between Us
Captains Command
When the Bough Breaks

Stolen by the Sea
Tulsa Burning

Flying Blind
Hoggee
Assassin
Confessions from the Principals Chair

Wart

WELCOME: to my daughter

You came into a year of rain,

wet thing,

tiny

as a frog

in the palm,

laughing with the odd

angles of this world:

elbows, Pisa

crooks in the cottonwood tree

all tucked in

the off-center grin

you take from my father

and opening like sudden

sunshine on one

side of a pitched tin roof,

spilling down on the dandelions

below.

Ben Myers

The End

This is a story that begins at the end.
It is a story of a man who was too young
and of a boy who grew suddenly old.

The hanging would take place at eleven. The boy, Jonah, wished it could happen at night, or at least in the evening, when he might have stayed unnoticed in the shadows, but he was forced to hunker low behind the rock wall. If the soldiers saw him, what would they do? Would they hurl stones, or maybe flog him with the awful whip called a cato-nine-tails? The boy bit at his lower lip and pressed himself close against the ground. If they thrashed him, his wounds would stop bleeding and eventually heal. If they hit him with stones, he could take the pain. What he could not endure, though, was being driven away. He must be present for the death of this man he loved, must bear witness until the end.

The drumbeat came to him, and he knew they were coming. The boys heart sounded loud in his ears, almost as loud as the drum. He eased his body up so that he could see above the wall, but no one was in sight yet. The apple tree stood undisturbed, some of the red fruit still hanging from its branches.

Jonah had heard the news in the tavern. Reckon theyll use the apple tree to hang him. The soldier had shaken his head as he spoke. Seems a shame, him so young and all. He shrugged. Still, a spy gets caught and he hangs; everyone knows that!

For a moment the boy froze. The soldier was wrong. Not everyone knew that spies were hanged. He had not known. Jonah made himself move. He had just carried a dish to the soldiers table, and his hand trembled as he set the plate down. Who? he asked. Who will they hang?

The soldier looked up at him. Wasnt talking to you, now, was I?

Jonah had been holding his breath, but he let it go and murmured, No, sir.

Aint no secret, now is it, Denton? the other soldier said. He looked up at Jonah. The soldier had a great red blotch on one side of his face. It was a fact Jonah noticed, but one that he did not think about until much later. Its Captain Nathan Hale, boy. Caught him last night trying to sneak through the lines. Almost got away with it too, he did, but they say he was betrayed by someone close to him.

Jonah felt the shaking that had been in his hands spread throughout his body, but he tried to hold himself still. When? he asked. When will they hang Captain Hale? Please, sir, can you tell me?

The first soldier had his mouth full of eggs, but he spoke anyway. Bloody interested in a rebel hanging, aint you, boy? You know this Hale?

Yes, sir. Jonahs voice was soft. He was my teacher back in Connecticut, before the war.

A schoolmaster? the second soldier asked. He seems no more than a boy his own self. Ive seen him, I have. How old is he, do you reckon?

Twenty, I think, or twenty-one. Jonah did not look at the soldiers as he spoke.

The first soldier laughed and slapped his hand on the table. Shame werent nobody to teach him! Guess he knows now what happens to them that try to spy on the kings regulars.

Jonah had to ask again. But when will they hang him?

Eleven this morning, thats the word, over in Artillery Park. The second soldier, the one with the red blotch, looked kindly at the boy and went back to his breakfast.

The first soldier scowled up at Jonah. Well be on duty, we will. Dont want to see the likes of you hanging about. Youve no business to be there, you being a loyal subject to King George. You be that, right, boy? No matter who was your teacher?

Yes, sir, said Jonah, and trying not to run, he retreated.

In the kitchen, he stood, breathing hard. For a moment, he leaned against the big table with its pile of dishes and pans. Then he untied the apron strings fastened behind his back and lifted it from around his neck. The tavern owner would find the apron in a wad on top of the dirty dishes. He would also find his customers complaining that no serving boy had tended to their needs. Jonah would lose his job, and Mr. Samuel would be notified. No matter! He flung himself through the open back door. He did not know what time it was. He did not know where Artillery Park might be in this strange city. One thing he did know. He must be in that spot before eleven.

And he was, crouched behind the low wall and listening now to the drumbeats that foretold the coming soldiers. When the sound grew stronger, Jonah eased up for another look. There he was, Master Hale, his hands bound behind his back, and hanging around his neck a coiled rope. Jonah saw the noose that dangled from the end of the rope, and for a moment the world went dark before his eyes. He swayed against the wall, afraid he might faint. Dont, he whispered to himself. You have to see.

A boy, maybe slightly older than Jonah, walked in front, beating a drum. Two soldiers walked on either side of Master Hale, and one, with a red-blotched face, walked behind. Each clutched a bayonet, pointed at their prisoner. Next came a cart driven by the soldier who had threatened Jonah.

He clenched his fists. If only he had a gun. Could he have gotten somehow into the soldiers camp and stolen one? Probably not. Besides, he could not stop the hanging. He would have been killed himself, of course, and still the hanging would have gone right on, probably not more than minutes behind schedule. There was nothing he could do for Master Hale, nothing but bear witness. He drew in a long breath. He would not faint. Jonah had not, at first, been able to look at his teachers face. Now he did.

Nathan Hale showed no sign of anguish. His blue eyes looked straight ahead as he moved. The September sun touched his fair hair and seemed almost to form a halo about his head. A small crowd of people had gathered in front of the apple tree, and the boy decided to join them. The soldiers from the tavern would be too busy with the terrible task to notice him.

Jonah stood, put his hands on the wall, and vaulted over. He landed near a large woman who turned briefly to stare at him. Watch yourself there, you little bugger.

The smaller woman beside her made a sort of snorting sound. Young ones running wild all over the place, she said. Then she leaned forward. My eyes aint that strong these days, you know, but he dont look so much like a spy to me, not atall like a dark sneak, Id say.