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Swing Low: Chapter 28

Chapter 28If you're new to this, start atThe Beginning. And thanks for sharing my stories with all your friends.
Installment #29 of:Sing Low: The Hangman of the WoodsBy B.C. Crow (Chapter 28Early that next morning, I woke with a start and jumped out of bed. Today was important; I couldn’t sleep in. I checked the time. My heart settled down as I realized that I hadn’t overslept.For the next hour I got ready as quietly as possible. Jhon and Charles were still asleep; I tip-toed, mostly trying to be considerate to them. Duy and Thing Two were also asleep and not waking Thing Two had nothing to do with consideration. I just didn’t want him blowing up in one of his temper rants by rousing him too early. Thing One was already gone. I didn’t know if he’d even come back last night. Either he had his own projects keeping him busy, or his job was forcing some unbelievable overtime as they tried to manage all their new prisoners, guests, or whatever they chose to call the children of the woods.I didn’t feel like going shirtless again today, since that hadn’t really helped me yesterday. So I dressed normally and was just about to ease the door open when Duy appeared in the hallway.“You’re not leaving without me, are you?” He yawned, rubbing crusted sleep from his eyes. His breath still smelled like whatever he’d been drinking last night, mixed with morning mouth rot.“Duy? You’re coming with me?”“Sure. Isn’t that what friends do? Support each other. After some of the things I’ve put you through, it’s the least I can do.”"Thanks. But I do need to leave right now."Duy entered the kitchen, fumbled around with one of the cupboards and produced a few stale rolls. “I won’t hold you up. I’ll eat on the way. I would’ve gotten up earlier, but it’s so hard to wake up this early anymore.”“At least I won’t be the only person there.” I smiled, hoping his breath would improve with his pathetic breakfast.“Hey buddy, don’t be so gloomy. You’re not the only good fellow out there. You might be surprised by how many people have a heart and show up today.”“If you’d seen how well my little campaign went yesterday, you might think otherwise.”“Ha!” Duy laughed. “I did see how it went. I was a little preoccupied, or I would have helped. But I’m sure that at least a few people read your novel of a flier. You probably should have kept it more short and simple.”“Gee, thanks. Next time I need an editor, I’ll come to you.”“Seriously, do! You wrote your petition for a newspaper, then distributed it like a flier. In ten minutes you could have rewritten it onto a single page, and had it be much more effective. People don’t pay as much attention to fliers as they do to newspapers, so it’s got to be simple.”“Too late for that now.”“Seriously, Iddo, don’t worry about it. I’m sure everything will turn out fine.”The front doors were just being opened as we arrived at the courthouse. A few other people were trickling in. They seemed as annoyed to be here as I was determined. We went in and waited as one of the clerks turned on the lights and organized her desk. I recalled the scent of peppermint, made stronger now that the lady was actually here. She wasn’t as old or as friendly as I’d imagined. Her face seemed kind enough, but there was something in that smile of hers that made me feel like she was just here to collect a paycheck. At last she came to the counter where I was waiting.“Can I help you with something?” she asked in a bittersweet tone.“I was just wondering what the schedule would be for the hangman’s trial today.”Her eyes opened wide. She grinned and looked at me like I was some novelty. “Hey, aren’t you that kid—er, young man—who wants to save the hangman?” Her grin grew into a pouty twist. “Listen, save yourself the trouble and run along. You’re probably the only person willing to side with that—thing. If you really do care, then go home so you don’t have to witness his sentencing. You can’t save him. Not even divine intervention could prevent his fate. Plus, there’s plenty of men who might not look too kindly on a sympathizer. You seem like a nice boy. I’d hate to see you get hurt.”“I’ve already been beaten. I’m not afraid of that.” Actually I was afraid, but that was beside the point. “I won’t give up. He’s not the monster everyone thinks he is. I need to convince the court of that. I just need a chance. Please.”“My boy, the court has already appointed him an attorney. There will be someone arguing on his behalf.”“Let me guess,” I ventured. “This attorney is the freshest greenie that passed his licensing exam, right?”“No, actually. He’s a seasoned lawyer, and a really good friend of the judge.”“A good friend of the judge! The judge has already conspired with the mob that captured the hangman! How can any friend of his persuade him away from what he’s already decided? They probably planned the whole thing!”“Watch what you say about the honorable Fu Gang. I assure you, he’ll judge this hangman with the highest degree of professionalism.”Duy slammed his open palm down on her countertop. A metal ring that I hadn’t seen on Duy since we’d first met clanked hard enough to draw our attention. The ring was silver in color, with a small green coat of arms containing a few letters in it. I don’t know what the letters meant, but both the clerk and I knew that only Believers wore such rings. As I’d come to learn, Believers were avid in pursuing causes if they felt the cause was just. The last thing this court would want would be to find a whole swarm of Believers outside their courthouse.“Tell my friend when the trial is,” Duy threatened, “All I have to do is make one call. Before noon the faith of my people will combine and cause the walls of this courthouse to crumble to the ground.”The clerk studied Duy for a hard minute. I studied him, too. I half guessed that Duy was bluffing. But like the clerk, I wasn’t sure. “Ten o’clock,” she finally relented. “Not like it’s any secret. Excuse me now, I have work to do this morning.” She turned her back and went to a corner desk, half hidden by a cubicle wall.We stepped out of the courthouse. Duy was the first to stop. “I hate the smell of peppermint and will you stop staring at me like that?”“Sorry, I was just trying to figure out if what you said back there was even possible. If so, then what I should have done was appeal to the Believers and not the local community. Do you guys really have that kind of power?”“Yeah, sort of, maybe. I’ve heard of things like that happening, but I’ve never actually seen it done. Mostly I was just playing on the myths or rumors that everyone seems to associate with us. You wouldn’t believe some of the pranks I’ve pulled in the last year. Everyone thinks we’re just as spooky as witches. It’s made for some pretty funny jokes with my friends.”“Are they jokes I’d want to hear about?”This time it was Duy’s turn to study me. “No,” he finally concluded. “I get the feeling that you’d actually make a good Believer. You’d probably find my pranks a little offensive. Oh, but there was this one time when—”“Duy—look.” I pointed down a side street. At first I was worried that it was a large group the mob had formed to make sure their fake trial went off as planned. But these people looked different. They were mostly younger, like college students. College students and a few professors. At the front of the procession was the young strict-looking lady from the school. The same woman who’d caught me using her copy machine.As she and the crowd of nearly one hundred people neared, I noticed a few sheets of lined notepaper in her hand. The unmistakable crumples marked it as that original article I’d accidentally left on the copy machine yesterday.She smiled at the surprise on my face. “Hello Iddo. I read your little petition. I hope you don’t mind, but I decided to e-mail it to as many people as I know. Hopefully they’ll keep forwarding it. Your words were compelling to me. I want—we want to help you make a difference.”I could have cried. Her group was strengthening in force as other small groups trickled in from all directions. By nine thirty, the entire square in front of the courthouse was packed with bodies. The noise was incredible. I could hardly believe the turnout. It was all because of one lady who happened to read the article that I’d carelessly left behind.As I was admiring the crowd, Duy nudged me. “You know, you probably ought to give a speech now.”My eyeballs nearly popped out of their sockets. “A speech?”“Yeah, a speech. All these people are here because of you. You have to organize them. You have to energize them.”These words upset me more than his still toxic breath. They practically melted the bones from my legs. I visibly wobbled. Duy laughed. “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”I knew he was right. Not about being fine, but that I had to do something. I might be able to write to the masses, but actually standing and speaking to them? I wasn’t sure if I could do it. I looked at the three steps ascending toward the courthouse. They now seemed so tall. Hesitantly, I placed one foot on the first step. What would I say? How did you rally over two hundred people that you didn’t know?My body shook as I raised my second foot to climb higher. I almost collapsed. No, I couldn’t do this. I was just about to turn around when I heard Duy shout, “Speech! Speech! Speech!” Despite my wobbly legs, when I heard that, my spine stiffened. Maybe nobody noticed his shouts.I could still turn around and come back down. I wasn’t committed yet.I wasn’t sure, but I guessed that the clerk who’d sent the e-mail was the next voice to join Duy’s chant. “Speech! Speech! Speech!”Within five seconds the whole crowd was chanting. My breath came in ragged gasps. I didn’t dare go forward and I couldn’t back down. I could feel their eyes landing on my back. Like red-hot pokers, each person’s eye seemed to pull at least five drops of moisture per second from my skin. Finally, my feet pressed on. By the time I was all the way to the top of the stairs, my sweaty palms threatened to drip in a continuous stream at my sides.Slowly I turned to face my supporters. I wanted to wipe the sweat from around my eyes, but thought better of it. I’d probably just force the salty stuff into my eyes and cause more of a problem.I surveyed the crowd. They hushed until silence filled the air. The stillness seemed to stretch that short five seconds into five minutes. I took in a deep breath. The jackhammer in my throat didn’t calm me one bit. “Good morning,” I managed to say.“Louder,” someone shouted. Probably Duy. It could have been a girl’s voice, too; I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to distinguish voices. The drumming of my heart was too loud for me to spare that much attention.“Thank you for coming,” I said as loud as my half-deflated lungs would allow.“That’s better,” the shout came again. It was Duy.“Thanks.” I smiled. Somehow that made it easier. Finding my voice, I gestured toward the courthouse. “Most of you don’t know who I am. My name is Iddo. Almost two years ago, I discovered the man known as the hangman of the woods.”As I spoke, my voice steadied. I was still terrified, but at least I didn’t completely freeze up. “The hangman, or Daddy Smiling as his adopted children call him . . .”In about ten minutes I unfolded my story. By the time I was finished, I was shaking. Not from stage fright, but from a furious passion that I didn’t know I could tap. I don’t think I ever spoke so eloquently in my life. I finished with a plea.“In twenty minutes, a trial will begin, wherein a corrupt lawyer is going to be unable to defend Daddy Smiling from an even more corrupt judge. They have the power to end the life of this man. He may be deformed, he may be mentally handicapped, but he saved and raised over a hundred and fifty children from these fathers, the ones who now wish to condemn him to death. He is a hero, held by a mob of murderers.“Is Daddy Smiling a vigilante? Yes. But if not for him, many more innocent children would have been slaughtered by their own fathers. Do you trust these men to deliver a just verdict for the hangman of the woods?”With one voice, the whole crowd shouted, “No!”“Would you trust these murderers with your children?”Again, a resounding, “No!”“Then how can we trust them to care for the children of the woods?”This time the answer was just a garbled mass of shouting. I guess I could have rephrased the question better.“I stood alone against these men once,” I continued, “and this is what they gave me!” I pulled my shirt off with a jerk. It hurt, but it also felt oddly empowering. I stood erect with my mutilated back to the crowd.Now the shouts neared hysterics. Shirtless I turned around to face my supporters. “In just a few minutes, when they open the doors to that courthouse, I say we fill the building. We let them know that we will not stand for injustice! We will stand for truth! We will stand, not for some hangman of the woods, but for the hero of the woods!”That did it. The crowd pushed the decibel level of the whole square higher and higher as they swelled closer to the building. I was just pulling my shirt back on, getting ready to join them on a march to the doors, when dozens of police and hired mercenaries, all decked out in riot gear, charged from around the corner. Before we had moved twenty feet, they’d set up a barricade.A voice came across on a megaphone. “You are all engaged in unlawful protest. Stand down.”I may not have journalism in my blood, but I’d seen enough pictures and read enough to know that this little protest of mine could get badly out of hand. Whenever that happened, people got hurt, even killed. They were all here because of me. I couldn’t let this cross the line between protest and riot.With arms outstretched in a cross, I backed away from the protesters, facing them as I put myself between them and the barricade. “Please, listen to me!” I shouted.Not everyone quieted, but enough did. “We are not the bad guys. We will protest peacefully. Let us not display our anger by causing violence today!” Then, so as to be heard by all, I asked the police, “If you won't open the courtroom to all of us, will you at least allow me in, so that I may testify on behalf of the hangman?”Shouts of “Let him in!” repeatedly crossed the square.The policeman in charge brought the megaphone back to his lips. “I will speak with the judge. But if any of you move any closer, I will permit my men to open fire on you.”As if to accentuate his statement, his men aimed several tear-gas launchers and shotguns at the crowd. I wondered if they would use rubber bullets. I hoped I didn’t have to find out.Several minutes later the police officer emerged. He looked nervous upon bringing the megaphone up again. But lift it he did. “The defense has consulted with the judge. The defense does not believe that he needs your testimony. Likewise, the judge has decided that you will be in contempt of court if he allows you in. You may continue to protest, but only if you remain peaceful, in the square, keeping behind the steps leading up to the building.”Angry shouts filled the crowd, my voice among them. I yelled out my objection. I tried to make a plea for my case. But nothing I said could be distinguished from the mass of noise that blanketed over mine. It was like a bad dream where you had to run as fast as possible but made little or no progress.The next five minutes were just a blur. Luckily Duy found his way to me. With some effort we calmed the crowd. Then, five minutes later, we were able to start a more organized chant. The first one started out as “Judge him fair!” We changed the chant every five or ten minutes to keep it fresh. There was no way the people inside the courtroom could avoid hearing us.The morning passed dreadfully slow. I took refuge under a tree with long stretching branches that helped shade the middle of the square. I was afraid that by noon, people would start leaving. On the contrary; more arrived. They strengthened our numbers and our resolve. From there, the hours rolled by. Three o’clock. Four o’clock. By seven o’clock, I couldn’t take it anymore. With outstretched arms, I approached the police line.“What do you want?” the bedraggled police chief asked.“Can you go inside and inquire for me as to the progress of the trial?”He slumped his shoulders. “No, I can’t.”I tilted my head. “Why not?”He sighed heavily. “We’re just here till you guys disperse. The trial ended three hours ago. The courthouse is all locked up. Nobody’s in there anymore.”I just stared at him. Nobody had used the main doors all day. Nobody that is, except for me and Duy in the morning. They had all sneaked in and out by some other way, and now it was over. I shook my head, trying to understand. I wanted to ask, but was afraid to form the words. I think I was more afraid of what I might hear.As if reading my mind, the chief shook his head again. “Guilty.”This time I really did fall to my knees. Before I knew it, Duy was at my side again, helping me back down the stairs. The news spread through the crowd like ink on a paper towel. The weary crowd of protesters seemed to dissolve until only Duy, the lady from the school office, and I were left. She placed a hand on my shoulder. Then, without saying another word, turned and walked away.Duy and I walked back home. I don’t think we spoke a single word to each other the whole way.Click here to read Chapter 29Copyright 2017: While I encourage you to share this link with your friends and family, please keep in mind that this is copyrighted material. Under no circumstances do you have the right to re-publish any or part of this content without specific written permission from BC Crow and Blue House Publishing.

Swing Low: Chapter 27

Chapter 27If you're new to this, start atThe Beginning. And thanks for sharing my stories with all your friends.
Installment #28 of:Sing Low: The Hangman of the WoodsBy B.C. Crow (Chapter 27I sympathize with innocence. Ask yourselves, is it better to condemn a man who punishes the wicked, in order to save the smallest of children from a brutal death? Or is it better to applaud such a hero and strive to improve our culture so that parents prioritize the family?It’s a common belief that all cultures are good and that we should respect them all. I heartily disagree. There are successful cultures, and there are unsuccessful cultures. There are cultures that encourage kindness and cultures that tear apart the fabric of decency. Daunting as it is, we live in an unsuccessful and immoral culture. If we are ever to live the life we dream of, then we have to make that leap from our comfortable norm.Whatever your beliefs or disbeliefs in a higher power may be, don’t stand idle while our culture punishes a hero.Today, Tuesday, the man, lovingly called Daddy Smiling, known to most of us as the mythical hangman of the woods, will go to trial. The trial won’t be fair. It’s being done in haste to prevent sympathy from spreading. This vigilante that our murderers have created will be put to death. Only with considerable persuasive pressure from us will he stand a chance. I will be at the courthouse to protest from sunrise until sunset. If you maintain any shred of compassion for these children and their protector, you will join me for a peaceable protest. By standing together we can make a difference.It was still only Monday, and I signed my name at the bottom of my article. On the off chance that it would get published, I knew my signature wouldn’t make the final print. Still, it felt good to scribble my own name at the bottom. It was like I was sealing a pact with myself.All morning as I labored at one of the school’s common-room tables, writing my petition to the masses, I kept getting interrupted by strangers. This wasn’t surprising, because I'd hoped this would happen. I was on a crusade, and I would do anything to advance my cause.This is how my morning began:After rushing back to my apartment, since I smelled very foul, I showered. As the water cleansed my body, each drop of stinging water revealed how badly my back really was hurt. Then I put on a fresh pair of pants. Just as I contemplated how to pull a shirt on without having to endure agonizing pain, I had an idea. I threw the shirt back into my room and walked to campus bare chested, or, more important, bare backed.The school generally frowns on shirtless students, but I resolved to park myself at one of the most heavily trafficked hallways in school. Stealing a small desk, I leaned over to begin my petition. This was one of those times when it helped to be short and fat. Short because I didn’t have to lean too far over on the desk to write my article; fat because it presented a larger billboard for all to see the abuse heaped upon me. Just above my belt line, I’d scrawled in poor handwriting, since it’s really hard to write on your own back: “Ask me about it.” I’d tried to tape a paper that said as much, but the tape kept falling off. Maybe a string to hold it on like a necklace, but by the time I thought of that, I'd put the ink on my back.That whole morning, amid interruptions, I composed my article. Many people did ask me to tell them about my experience, but few lingered. Somewhere I’d heard that the only people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world are the ones who actually do. I had no sure way to publish my article, and I doubted that enough people would get my message in this hallway to make a difference. But somehow I would publish it.I read my article one last time before standing up. I still had other things to do today. Since I was on campus, I went ahead and visited my professors, turning in my homework for the past week.“Mr. Iddo, what are you doing here without a shirt?” my first professor asked as I stepped into his office.I told him everything. He paid rapt attention. “If you have any suggestions that might help me, I’d love to hear them,” I finished.“Sounds to me like you have your work cut out for you. I’m sorry I can’t help, but it’s a compelling story. Perhaps, though, I could recommend a topical cream for your back. I’m not good at social movements, but I am a doctor.”“No, thank you. I’ll heal eventually. For now, I’ll let my back stand as a testament against those men.”“You’re a brave young man, Mr. Iddo. I hope, though, that you don’t let this whole thing keep you from your studies. You will still attend to your schooling while you fight for this vigilante’s life, won’t you? Promise me you will. You’re too good a student to drop out of becoming a doctor, regardless of which outcome befalls your friend.”“I promise,” I said. Dropping out of school had crossed my mind yesterday during my bout of depression. Even during that self-pitying spiral, I'd dismissed thoughts of dropping out. My life would go on no matter how things turned out. At least for me they would.My meetings with my other professors went similarly. With each, I had another opportunity to share my story. Each professor skirted the subject of offering any real advice that could help the hangman or the children of the woods. I got the impression that the professors didn’t want to be involved. They were more concerned about my back healing faster than about saving a man’s life.They had their reasons, I’m sure. They hadn’t experienced what I’d been through. I couldn’t blame them. They lived in a different world. They might talk about it for weeks or years to come, but it would be an academic exercise to them. A distant ethical event and debate.Afterward I walked back to the only place I could think to go. I couldn’t publish this article by myself. Yes, there was the Internet, but I didn’t know enough about it to do my own publishing. Besides, I couldn’t imagine how my article could go viral in time to make a difference. I should have learned how to use the social media tools available there to voice my concern over a year ago. That had never crossed my mind. Anything I’d ever wanted to say or write always got published, anyway.There was only one person I knew who could help me get this article published.“Absolutely not!” Krystal emphasized in a hushed tone. She didn’t want the chief editor to hear her talking to me. She showed me out of the building so we could talk more openly.Passing ahead, she led me across the street. When she felt we were far enough away from the company, she stopped, turned around, and just as I approached, she gave me a shove that was almost hard enough to topple me backward.“How dare you! First you get fired for trying to help a freakish murderer. Now you want to get me fired, too?”Her shoulders tightened as if she was about to push me again, but I stepped back. “Krystal, you’ve heard my side of the story more than once.” The Tuesday edition of the paper, like all our papers, would be printed and delivered for distribution early in the morning. I didn’t have much time. I needed this. “How else am I to get word out in time for the trial? Besides, you know that Biahn is just manipulating this whole thing to his own personal advantage.”“Biahn still has his job. So do I, and I don’t need you to ruin that for me.”“Is your job more important to you than the life of a good man and the future of so many children?”“Don’t play on my sympathies, Iddo. I’m not going to get involved.”“Just read the article before you throw it out altogether.”“No, Iddo, I won’t. I have a good thing going here.”“Well, then just sneak it into the public commentary. I know you can find a place to put it that won’t get you fired.”“Iddo, you’re nice but naive. Understand, I don’t owe you any favors. If anything, I’ve overextended my goodwill to you already.”I wanted to accuse her of being selfish, just like her father. Was she really keeping score? I knew that line of thinking wouldn’t be very productive. Apparently, though, my stare was accusation enough.“Since when did you grow such a spine?” Krystal suddenly accused.My mouth dropped open. The affront surprised me. I didn’t know how to respond.“That’s right, you have always been the timid one, afraid of your own shadow. Now you want to guilt me into this cause of yours. I’m not a philanthropist, Iddo. I’m struggling to make my own way in this world, just like everyone else. You’ve seen my dad. I’m not going to get any help from him. I’ve got to find my own way. What I don’t need is for you, of all people, to get pushy with me. I’ve got to do what’s best for me. And what’s best for me is what’s best for the company I work for right now.”“I know I’m asking a lot—”“No! You’re asking too much! We’re done here.”She took one step. I raised a hand in protest, but she caught it with one of hers. Her grip was manly-strong. The finger on her other hand threatened to skewer my forehead like a dagger. I closed my mouth, my teeth clicking shut as if to signal my resigned silence.Without a word she let go of my hand and marched back to her office. I was left alone next to the street holding my article. It would not get published by her. And if not by her, then not by anyone. I recalled the cliché about how people see their whole life passing before their eyes when they’re about to die. My life wasn’t in any danger, but my chances of publishing this petition were. Regret suddenly flashed its ugly montage across my mind.I remembered every instance since the day I’d met Krystal that I could have been a better friend. Even if only once I’d made the simplest effort, or at least not shied away from her, maybe then things would've turned out differently. Some people burn bridges that they may someday need. Usually this happens in sudden disagreements. I’d allowed mine to slowly be eaten away by termites and rot over the course of several years, this despite the many chances Krystal had afforded me to fix it.I was back at square one. Maybe square two, if there is such a thing. I wasn’t hopeless. Quite the opposite, in fact. One door had closed, but maybe I could open another. I had to hurry, though. I had a lot to do and time wasn’t on my side.I jogged back to campus. Using my school credit, I planned to run a bunch of copies off in the student copy center. I would then post them everywhere that people might pass and read them. I was just about to place my article on the scanner when a hand grabbed my shoulder.“No shirt, no service,” an attendant with a prickly little mustache declared.“Please, I just need to run a few copies, then I’ll be out. I don’t have time to get a shirt. Please just let me—”The man grabbed my article, crumpled it, then threw it out the door. I chased after it, terrified that it would get trampled or worse. “Everyone, including you, needs to respect the rules. Come back when you decide to be responsible.” He shut the door behind me.I wasn’t angry with the man. I just felt like a fool. Everything wrong up to this point had been a result of my poor judgment. This fit in line with my growing list of consequences. I had a feeling that when this whole thing was over, I was going to look back on the experience as a positive life-altering lesson in dealing with people. It didn’t make sense, but something was happening to me. Despite the fact that nothing was going right, deep inside my confidence was growing. Weird, I know, but that’s how I felt.As my confidence increased, so did my boldness. I might not be able to get anything out of the copy center, but there were alternatives. I hurried back to the office of one of my professors. The door was locked. I ran to the next one. The professor wasn’t in, but his door was open. I looked at the clock and realized that he was teaching a class that I was supposed to be in. I had fifteen more minutes before he would be back. With nobody watching, I slipped into the room and surveyed his desk.On top of the monitor read “Dr. Dac Kien.” Folders and files littered the office, but no printer. I knew he had to have some way of printing. I opened his word processor, typed a character, and clicked on the print icon. There was indeed a printer networked and I confirmed the print. Nothing in the room made a sound. If the printer wasn’t in the office, then it must be a shared printer. If I could find the printer, I could type my article, then just run a bunch of prints.I printed three more copies of the letter T and ran out of the office, my ears straining to hear the familiar mechanics. Hear them I did. I followed the noise. The machine finished before I found it, but by then I knew where to look. A common area, exclusive to professors and staff, contained not just a printer but a large copy machine. I smiled. I wouldn’t have to type this thing after all.There was one other person moving about, but her attention was elsewhere. I strolled up to the machine, as normal as could be. Easy to say, really. But when you’re shirtless in a place like this, attention has a way of gravitating toward you. I felt like a large fleshy beacon.Luckily the other person, probably a student teacher or some other type of clerk, was busy enough that she didn’t look in my direction.I placed my crinkled papers on the copy machine’s feeder, then tried to decipher the control panel. I’d never used anything like this, so it was completely foreign to me. I took a guess and typed in “99,” then pressed the biggest round button.Each of my lined drafts were suddenly sucked into the machine with a crumpling sound. I held my breath. The papers were ejected from a different slot. The machine hadn’t jammed with my imperfectly flat notepaper. The copier fired to life and spit out one copy after another. I risked a look over my bare shoulder at the other person in the room. She hadn’t looked my way yet. Copying would take at least a full minute, maybe more. I knew I couldn’t hold my luck for that long.I faded back around a corner, just out of sight. With my back to the copier, I released my breath through pursed lips. My heart was thumping, but I was grinning. I felt amazing. Iddo of yesterday would never have been so bold. Today I was bold. I was going to make my own luck.Normally I would've jumped through the ceiling when I felt the cold thin fingers tap my shoulder, but instead I just froze.“Excuse me, I couldn’t help but notice—you,” the young woman said with a pause, and maybe a hint of disdain. She seemed unsure just what to think of me. With the copy machine running, she must have taken a break from her work to see who was here. “Is there something I can help you with?”No need. I’m just here running a copying errand for Professor Dac Kien. That was a lie. And it was a lie that I wanted to say, but even my newfound confidence couldn’t bring it to my lips. Why did I feel so compelled to be honest? “I’m staging a protest on behalf of the hangman, and the copy center wouldn’t let me in,” I said reluctantly.I was so sure that this time I’d found a way to spread my letter. But the confused eyes of this young lady said I wasn’t welcome here, either. Finally her face tightened, and she turned her back to me. She left me standing while she walked back to the copier just as it finished printing its last page.Grabbing the stack, she read through the first few pages that now made up a stack of almost three hundred papers. Returning, she examined me closely. “You do this again, and I’ll report you.” She then shoved the heavy stack of paper into my arms.“You’re going to let me take these?” I asked with some surprise.“What good is the paper to me? You’ve already printed it. Take it, get out of here, and good luck.”I cradled the bundle and exhaled a breathy laugh. “Thank you.”“Yeah, yeah. I’ve got work to do,” she said in dismissal.For once something had gone right. I was just about to go down the stairs to the main floor when I realized that I’d left my original handwritten copies on the printer. I turned on my heels to look back, then promptly tripped. I caught myself before I tumbled down the stairs, but in doing so, I let the whole stack of papers fly out of my arms. Some pages stayed close, but most of them fluttered down the entire staircase. I stood and watched until each piece landed. “Figures,” I whispered to myself.Five minutes later I had everything back in my arms, but it took another fifteen minutes to organize them. I looked at a hall clock. Four forty-five. My heart sank. The last classes were just about to finish for the day. Voices down the halls were getting louder, signaling that some of these last classes were already ending a few minutes early. I could run around the whole campus and post these all. But even if I miraculously accomplished that in the next fifteen minutes, very few people, if any would read it in time to be useful.Only one option remained that I could think of. I ran as fast as I could to the main student center. Students were lining up at the copy office that had kicked me out less than an hour ago. But that’s not where I was going. Next door to the copy center was the school’s computer lab. Soon that place would be packed with people trying to get their homework ready for the next day. It was also conveniently located right next to the main doors of the building. A huge flow of students would be exiting through those doors to go home for the night.I posted myself right outside the computer lab door. From there I could give a handout to anybody going into the computer lab and also catch those on their way home. I had to hope that people would read my petition and share it with their friends and family. If not in person, then maybe on the computer.Without any more time to think about it, I was busy trying to shove papers into distracted hands. Thirty minutes later, I was out. I leaned against the cinder-block wall. Sharp pangs of discomfort reached deeper than the wounds should have permitted. The cool masonry seemed a balm for my aches. I let myself rest for a minute until my body heated the wall to the point where it no longer soothed.Pulling away from the wall hurt worse than leaning against it. My back wanted to stick to the roughly painted blocks. I looked where my back had just been. Yellowy milky-pink stripes patterned the off-white walls. Maybe I should have taken my professor’s advice and gotten an ointment for my back. I couldn’t afford to let it become infected.Exhausted, I pushed the doors open. A small shred of guilt tugged at me for leaving those marks on the school’s wall, but I ignored it and left the building. My lips parted in disbelief as I saw a few pages of my petition blowing across the road. I briefly considered chasing down the loose papers. I’d have to dodge foot traffic and cars at the same time. But as I considered this, I felt a drop of water on my back. It was followed by more until I was standing in a short burst of rain. It was the kind that would only last a few minutes, but it was enough to ruin every page that was exposed.I looked in the nearest waste bin where any copies might still be dry. As expected, several copies had been tossed in there. They were ruined, not by rainwater, but by discarded food and drink that had been dropped on top. Would anyone care to read my article?I didn’t wait for the rain to let up. I walked home. After a few minutes, the rain cleared up. It was followed by the balmy shirt plastering humidity that generally follows the rain on a hot day like today. Luckily I wasn’t wearing my shirt. Unluckily, my back began to itch with intolerable zeal. I couldn’t scratch it, or I’d risk reopening some of the deeper gashes.Once home I filled a tub with water. The soap was gone. For lack of any better idea, I sprinkled half a box of baking soda into the tub. With pants still on, I tested the water. My tub wasn’t like American tubs. I couldn’t fully soak my whole body. But leaning at an awkward angle, I was able to get most of my back into the basin. There I stayed for a while. I let the water work on my back until the strain on my backbone hurt worse than the pain in my wounds.After carefully drying off, I cooked some rice and dumped a cold can of spiced tuna on it. I nearly inhaled it, then went to my room and collapsed on my stomach. Unlike the nightmares of the night before, I was blissfully unaware of any dreams this night. I’d done all I could today.All that effort; all wasted.Click here to read Chapter 28Copyright 2017: While I encourage you to share this link with your friends and family, please keep in mind that this is copyrighted material. Under no circumstances do you have the right to re-publish any or part of this content without specific written permission from BC Crow and Blue House Publishing.

Swing Low: Chapter 26

Chapter 26If you're new to this, start atThe Beginning. And thanks for sharing my stories with all your friends.
Installment #27 of:Sing Low: The Hangman of the WoodsBy B.C. Crow (Chapter 26I’ve done all I can. One person can often make all the difference. Usually that one person is never alone. If someone as lowly as me can inspire you, just imagine your potential. I’m no leader, but my conscience is true. What does your heart tell you?“Let me guess, Thing One didn’t even try to help you.”I peered into the dark room the two Things shared. The arrogant voice of Thing Two carried a little more bitterness than usual. I wasn’t in any mood to waste my breath. I just wanted to go to my room and think for a while.I was edging for the hallway when Thing Two added, “Don’t you even want to know how I knew about your little romp with the police?”“Half the town already knows.” I was sure of it. A reporter like Biahn would have seen to that. I realized that I’d be lucky to walk the streets without getting assaulted.“Hey Iddo," he laughed with a touch of rude hysteria. "Hey, don’t ignore me, you self-righteous jerk! You think you’re so much better than me or Duy? You don’t like who we spend our time with? At least I don’t worship a murderer!”I was at the end of the hallway. I stepped into my room and slammed the door before Thing Two could say anything more. I collapsed onto my dirty old mattress, curled into a ball, and filled the futon with a sticky stream of tears.“I heard what happened, Iddo. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”Startled, I sat erect. I’d been weeping for a good twenty minutes, then silently tried to collect myself for ten. I hadn’t even glanced at Duy’s bed. He’d been gone so much that I hadn’t expected him to be home, let alone in our room.“I’ve been nursing a headache all morning,” Duy said casually, as if making an excuse for his intrusion on my privacy. He was still lying on his bed as he talked. “I really should stop partying so much. Eventually I’m going to regret it. But this is college life, eh? Enjoy it while you can, before you need to be responsible, you know, that sort of thing.”“I wish it were that easy,” I mumbled.“Yeah, tell me about it.”“Well, I’ve got to find a way to help the hangman out. He saved my life, you know. He’s not what the newspaper is portraying him as. He’s actually a really good man, if not a little different.”“When I said tell me about it, I meant that as an expression.” Duy paused. I didn’t know what to say. Then he laughed. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it. No, seriously, you can go on. But a good man? I heard he’s strangled hundreds of men.”I sighed. Duy was trying, but I wasn’t in the mood. “He has killed a lot of men,” I admitted. “But every one of them was out in the woods to murder their own second or third kids to avoid paying the surplus child taxes. Then he takes those little babies and raises them. He’s got over to a hundred and fifty kids that he’s saved.”“No way—he’s like the destroying angel. You know, kills the wicked and saves the innocent.”“I-I don’t know.” I shook my head. “All I know is that he’s going to be tried and killed. Then there’s Midnight. She’s about my age, and I promised to marry her. Only problem is that she’s going to be taken away somewhere. I have to get her before it’s too late. But I don’t know how.”“Dude!” Duy exclaimed, then put a hand to his head in regret. “Oh, I hate hangovers. But seriously, Iddo, you’re engaged? Why didn’t you tell me?”“Sorry. The circumstances are a little—different. Besides, I didn’t think you’d be interested. I didn’t want you to give me a hard time over it.”“Do you seriously think I’d give you a hard time over anything?” Duy asked with a playful tone.I didn’t want to point out his lifestyle choice; how could I do that without offending? “Maybe not, but if I were you, I’d think it odd to find my roommate engaged to an orphan girl who lived in the woods and was raised by a killer. Especially when you’re enjoying your bachelor status as much as you seem to be.”“Well, anything sounds absurd when you put it that way—but are you kidding, Iddo? A fling with a savage sounds really exotic!”“It’s not like that!” I knew Duy was just trying to sympathize, but his humor was pushing me in the wrong direction.“Okay, okay. But you’re a reporter, why don’t you write some articles in defense of this hangman?”“I’m not a real reporter, I just write campus filler news for the paper to pad their college life section. The real reporters, like Biahn, are already slandering the hangman, anyway. There’s no way my editors will let me publish anything that contradicts their star reporter.”“No, that’s the beauty of it. Don’t you see?” Duy sounded serious, maybe even a little conspiratorial. He rolled over on his bunk, linking his arm over the edge of the bed. I still couldn’t see his face. “Okay. Imagine this, Iddo. You pitch to your boss another take on the story, a sort of battle of the wits, as it were. The paper would be showing both sides of the story, creating a little drama between writers that would make the audiences follow the story even closer. You could even throw in some details about your love story to gain support. They could sell more papers in a single week than they would in the whole year otherwise.”I rolled off my bed and stood. “Maybe not the whole year, but you might have a point.” The idea was novel. Maybe, just maybe, I could pull it off and save the hangman and find a way to be with Midnight again. The more I let the idea sink in, the more I liked it. I looked up at Duy, who was taking a break from massaging his temples. His bed-matted hair looked perfectly styled for the big crooked grin now cemented on face.“Duy, some days I could just kiss you.”“No-ho-oh,” he said playfully. “You’re too ugly for me. I prefer—”“I don’t need to know. But all the same, thanks. I gotta run.”“Good luck, Iddo.”I ran into the bathroom, splashed some water on my face, then ran out of the apartment. Thing Two tried to shout some profanity at me, but I was gone before he could finish his line. What was his problem, anyhow? I’d never offended him in any way that I was aware of. Not a big deal. I’d worry about that later, if ever. Considering the bigger picture, Thing Two was low on my list of worries.Not daring to waste any time, I jogged. Well, I jogged for about one block. Then I walked at a more sustainable pace. Either my memory was poor, or I was always overconfident. Every time I felt like jogging or running, I was reminded that my body was not built for the task. My breathing remained heavy for the next two blocks. When I finally reached the publishing house, I was covered in sweat, but otherwise in good control of myself. I was confident and energized. I was going to make a difference.Even on a Sunday, the publishing house was open. The news never stopped, so neither did they. Of course there were fewer people in on a Sunday, and the Monday paper always tended to be lighter, but work went on in some degree, every day of the week.The front door hadn’t fully closed behind me when my excitement got a cold wet towel thrown onto it. There were a few people in view, not like on a weekday, but they were all busy going about their tasks. Only one person noticed me walk in, and her hesitant eyes made me wonder what the bad news could be. Of all people I actually thought she’d have the day off.“Hi Krystal, are you okay?”“Yeah, I’m fine. I didn’t expect you back so soon.”“So you heard what happened?” I asked.“I’m so sorry. I know what Biahn did to you. He used you to find those people, didn’t he?”“That’s what I’m here to talk about. I need to speak to the chief editor.”“I don’t know if that’s a good idea right this minute,” Krystal warned. But as I passed her, she gasped. “Iddo, your back!”I stopped and turned my head. Futile, I knew. There was no way I’d be able to see my back. But I knew what she was looking at. Yet again I’d become so obsessed with an idea that I’d forgotten to think. In this case I’d forgotten to change my clothes. Not only was that unprofessional, but the back of my shirt was ribboned with cuts and blood. Though I’d been aware of the aching pains and crusted scabs, my shirt had seemed unimportant next to freeing Midnight, Daddy Smiling, and all the kids.Krystal must not have been aware of how wide her mouth was open, because she looked a little silly and uncommonly disheveled. She was peering below my ruined shirt at the long slashes, bordered in thick black-and-blue strips. Since I hadn’t cleaned the blood off, it probably looked worse than it was. Maybe it really was worse than I thought.“Did Biahn do this, too?”“His posse did this to me. Don’t ever trust him, Krystal. He’s just like they teach you to be in journalism school. His loyalty and beliefs lie with the best story at any given time.”Krystal shut her mouth. I wondered if she remembered advocating a similar mentality back in school. Well, haggard or not, I was going to speak to the editor. Maybe my battered appearance would help win my case.Before Krystal could stop me, I pushed the office door open and entered the chief editor’s office. He looked up from his computer.“I need to go over something with you,” I blurted.“Iddo, you look terrible. I’m guessing you didn’t like what Krystal had to say?”“She hasn’t told me anything other than the fact that I look like a rag doll. She can’t help me, anyway. I need to go over this with you.”The chief editor folded his arms and leaned back in his chair.I laid out my plan. “That’s pretty much it. I know you’re going to publish Biahn regardless. Just let me do some stories from the other point of view. I promise, people everywhere will read about the controversy. It’ll be good for the paper. It might even go international.”The editor rocked in his chair for about five seconds. “I suppose you’ll want a small raise for this, too.”I couldn’t believe it. I needed a raise. This would make renting a place for me and Midnight so much easier. I should have said, I don’t care about the money. I’ll do it for free. This is just a story that has to be told! Instead, what came out was, “Thank you, that would be great.”The chief editor tossed a pen onto the table. “I told Krystal to tell you this, and I still stand behind it. You’re fired.”With eyes bulged and mouth agape, I was at a loss for words.“Biahn is one of our best reporters. If you sympathize with a murderer, then we don’t need you here. Not for your current pay, not for a raise. I wouldn’t even keep you on for free. You disgust me, Iddo. Get out of my office now, and don’t come back!”My jaw hung limp, and I just stared at my former employer. He picked up his pen, turned to the other side of his L-shaped desk, and said over his shoulder, “You may leave now.” As if he had called me in for a minor editing remark. I stood, then dragged my feet out the door. I looked back once, but his back was still to me.When his office door clicked shut behind me, I looked up to see Krystal. She was standing not five feet away, biting at her knuckles. Had she been listening at the door?“I’m so sorry, Iddo. I tried to tell you. It’s just that when I saw what they did to you—then you marched into his office so fast—I just, I’m sorry.”Still in shock, I walked right past Krystal, failing to acknowledge her with more than a brief nod. Her pity bored into my back as I silently exited the building. The aches and pains of my lacerated back seemed to attack with a new vigor. My body acted as if it too, were betraying me. I walked only two blocks, far enough away that the publishing house was out of view. With no more willpower to put one foot in front of the other, I sat on the curb next to the street.Crying was out of the question. Not only had I already spent my tears, but also it now seemed pointless. I’d been betrayed, beaten, ridiculed, fired, and on top of that, my mother had died, my fiancée was going to be taken away, and there was nothing I could do to stop it or save the hangman. Even Krystal had come full circle and now pitied me again. This seemed only to put an official stamp on my dejection.I had nothing left in me. If someone were to come along and pick me up by my leg, I would probably not even change position while they turned me over and shook the rags off my back. They could place my naked body right back on the curb, and I doubt I would have even blinked once. I felt completely and unsalvageably defeated.After an hour, maybe two, I stood and walked. I walked so long that when I lifted my gaze from my feet, I didn’t recognize where I was. I’d moped my way into some border town I’d never visited. I wasn’t exactly lost; it’s hard to get lost when you know the direction you just came from. Showing less reluctance than I felt, I turned around and placed one foot in front of the other. I didn’t know how long I’d walked to get here. I didn’t know where I was or where I wanted to be. I was beyond caring at this point. Though I knew how to find my way back home, I was lost more deeply than any map could help with.As each step took me closer to my apartment, the smog filling my brain only thickened. For a long time, I kicked stones down the street, imagining that each rock was my body bouncing irregularly as it rolled along the rough asphalt.At other times I don’t remember seeing the street. I just remember seeing Midnight’s pleading lips as they trembled or accused me of betraying her. I even imagined my mother, who’d always supported me, telling me how I’d disappointed her.Somewhere deep inside I could see that I was becoming my own worst enemy. I knew that the self-loathing was tearing me down and I shouldn’t let it happen. Still, I felt powerless to stop it. When my feet felt too tired to continue, I untucked my chin from my chest long enough to realize that I’d walked past my apartment by at least ten kilometers. I was at the edge of the woods again.Night had fallen, and I could see the yellow glow emanating from so many little lights of the college town. It looked inviting and warm. I turned to the woods, which seemed dark and engulfing. My feet hurt. I’m sure blisters had formed and broken. Instead of working my way back home, I stumbled the last few hundred meters to the base of the woods, where the dark blanket of trees seemed to fit my mood much better. There I let myself collapse next to a thorny bush. It poked at my shoulder, but I didn’t move away. I just let it bother me to sleep.That night dreams of everyone I loved plagued me. Thing One became one of the whipping mobsters. Duy joined Thing Two in bullying me. My mother chose to ignore me. Daddy Smiling tried fastening his rope around my neck. The only one who didn’t turn on me was Midnight, but in my dreams she kept reaching for me, and I couldn’t even lift my arm to help. Last of all, the Laidy of the Woods screamed, “Me owns you now, boy! You be doin’ what me tells you do, for now and always!”I startled awake. The sun was just rising above the horizon. All was calm. Hidden birds were singing the morning in. My thumping heart slowed in relief, then, it nearly stopped. Something was on my leg. I lifted my head. The prickly bush I’d fallen asleep next to dug into my cheek. Then I saw it, the largest krait ever was slithering across my leg, warming itself on me. The deadly snake brought back every memory of the witch from my dream. I choked back panic. Was this the work of a witch? But the snake remained calm. No, it was just a wild snake looking for a warm rock to sun itself on.Something about my unsettling dream and this snake brought back a resolve that I’d allowed to diminish. I remembered that I’d escaped the witch’s snakes through faith. Faith in a God I still barely comprehended. Faith in a God who'd protected me, despite myself.Light from the rising sun pushed away the shadows. As the morning rays warmed my skin, the light of understanding filled me. If faith could protect me from a witch and a mess of serpents, why couldn’t it support me in a good cause? And what better cause was there for me than to help Daddy Smiling and his children?I’d heard of people striving to accomplish their goals, referencing God as their supporter. When the war staged around my broken country, I’d heard that both sides fought in the name of their god, not to mention many of my people in the middle, pleading to the same god for protection.I doubt I could ever say whose side, if any side, God had been on back then, but I felt something now. I had a reason to go on. I had a reason to fight for my convictions. I would save Daddy Smiling. I would marry Midnight. I would help the children of the woods find refuge. I would find the means to support myself through college. Most of all, I would not give up.Another thought entered my mind, as if someone else was hinting deeper truths. Are you only going to turn to Him when you need Him most?I drew in a deep breath. No, I couldn’t. I was growing beyond that. If I was to call on His grace and actually expect to receive it, I would have to finally commit. I’d told myself more than once that I’d learn of God, but I’d procrastinated. I made a promise to Him right then and there that I would not pursue him so idly any more. I would turn my life over to Him. As I made this commitment, my heart burned with joy.I half laughed. So is this what faith feels like? Duy might not be the best example, but if this feeling of unearthly confidence was the same that supported his people, then I might actually become a Believer after all.Gently I reached under the giant snake. The sun is coming up, my friend. It’s time for you to find a warm spot someplace else. The poisonous reptile allowed me to lift it off of my legs and place it on the ground next to me. It took one look at me, staring unwaveringly into my eyes, that steady flickering tongue the only movement between us. To me it almost felt like it was saying, Good job, Iddo. I came here to get you thinking. You’ll be just fine.I’m sure it was just trying to decide why its warming stone had just picked it up and moved it. It might have been wondering if I was a threat. If it did consider me dangerous, it must have decided that chipping a fang on such an unusual rock was riskier than just slithering away.For my part, I stood, stretched, and brushed myself off. My back felt swollen, and I wondered if I should worry about infection. But the morning was fresh. I was fresh. However my body ached, my mind was invigorated. The road ahead might be difficult, but I was bursting with holy resolution. God was on my side. There were many things that could stop me, but nothing would. I would see to that.Click here to read Chapter 27Copyright 2017: While I encourage you to share this link with your friends and family, please keep in mind that this is copyrighted material. Under no circumstances do you have the right to re-publish any or part of this content without specific written permission from BC Crow and Blue House Publishing.

Swing Low: Chapter 25

Chapter 25If you're new to this, start atThe Beginning. And thanks for sharing my stories with all your friends.
Installment #26 of:Sing Low: The Hangman of the WoodsBy B.C. Crow (Chapter 25Likewise, there are worst things than being a prisoner of a jail. I was held against my will, but I was free. You are free, but are being led gently to a prison from which there may be no escape. That Evil One whom the witches worship, he will bind you tighter than any rope. He will trap you more surely than any steel door. But he starts with the subtlest of snares. Both powers of good and evil have gentle leashes. It’s not always easy to see the final destination beyond the moment.The moon was full when we finally exited the woods. Morning wouldn't be far off. Even with the brutal men prodding us faster with their machetes and clubs, a hundred and fifty children or more are hard pressed to make a speedy march. We didn’t go directly to the New Tum police station. At least not all of us. They couldn’t have housed so many people. They did lock the hangman in a cell, but the rest of us were herded to a nearby lot where two massive and drab looking army tents had been hastily erected and stood waiting. Their faded tan canvas effectively sucked hope from anyone near them.Small family units were broken up as the boys were separated from the girls. Huddled and squatting inside the boy’s army tent, I found the once confident Chirp-chirp. He was crowded in a mass of other boys including Grub.I’d nearly forgotten that he’d taken on the role of father figure for one of the newer babies. Grub, not even ten years old, was cradling his own little boy. His limp arms never dropped the babe despite his complete exhaustion. How he held onto the sleeping child was beyond me. He looked ready to roll his own eyes into the back of his head and collapse.All these children were beyond terrified. Beyond that, the long hike to this unfamiliar place had left them drained. Tears that had been shed freely on the trail now dried up. Exhaustion and sleep took the younger ones. Shock, curiosity, or something else kept the older ones awake. Like trapped feral cats, their eyes stared wearily from one end of the tent to the other.For so many children, most of whom couldn’t remember ever living behind a wall, this tent must have felt extremely confining. I could see the horror in their faces, and I knew that it was more intense than my own. In a way it comforted me. I wasn’t the worst one here. At least I had a better hope of release. My lack of fear turned into a form of confidence that the others noticed. While I might have been responsible for leading the mob to these children, they didn’t look at me as a betrayer. They looked to me for hope and possibly leadership. Now I really couldn’t look scared, for their sakes.Morning came. I was suddenly aware of the tent being brighter and much hotter. A faint odor of ammonia clung to the increasingly humid air. The urine was quickly overpowered by the more pungent odor of human feces. There was no bathroom in here. Even if there was, it would be as foreign to these kids as a car. Little babies without any control of their bodily functions were the least of the problem. The older kids turned one corner of the tent into a steaming pile of refuse.Suddenly I realized how quickly the living conditions of this tent would deteriorate. Over six thousand kids die each day from diarrhea. If these kids didn’t get a more sanitary environment, they could easily get sick and start dying. I had no doubt in my mind. I walked over to the tent opening. Two drowsy guards were standing watch.“I need to help these children in here. Who can I talk to about their needs?”One of the guards ignored me. The other turned only halfway to face me. Indifference shaded his expression. “We’re just the night watch. We should be replaced any minute by someone else. You’ll have to talk to them.”“But these kids need—”The guard just raised his hand and turned away. Nothing I could say would make him care in the least.As if on cue, they both looked up as two fresh guards came over to relieve them. My eyes nearly bulged when I saw who one of the guards was.“Thing One!”He looked at me as if expecting to see me. “Hey Iddo.” Then, as if it was the most normal thing to do, he took one peek inside, then planted himself in the former guard’s position.I wrinkled my brow. “What’s going on? What are you doing here? You need to help us.”Thing One sighed. “Listen, Iddo, I know things look bad right now. In fact, things might get a little worse before they get better. But trust me, everything will work out fine in time. You might need to just steel yourself for a couple of really rough days.”“What are you talking about? Since when were you part of this mob? You’ve got to do something to help!”“I’m not part of the mob, Iddo, I’m just doing my job. The kids will all be handled by committees tasked to this. I’m on those committees. I know they’re not the best, but they will do what’s best for the children in time.”“What’s best for the children is to give them back Daddy Smiling, and to let them go back to the woods. Do you seriously think the courts will let that happen?”“I can’t say, Iddo. And there’s little I can do to help you right this moment. But trust me when I say, you’ll soon be out of here, and these children will be taken care of. By the way, I do have a bit of bad news. I’m sorry, I opened the letter and read it. You’re not going to like it.”Thing One reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded envelope. The top seal was ripped, and he handed it to me. His hand shook a little as he passed it to me. I looked up into his eyes and for the first time noticed that they were bloodshot. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who’d had a long night. “It’s from your uncle. I’m really sorry, Iddo.”My stomach dropped suddenly to my feet, leaving a hollow pit just under my chest. I pulled the envelope from his grasp. He had a hard time letting it go. Fear gripped my heart. There was only one thing it could say. Believing what I thought it to be, made the task all that more difficult.Dear Iddo,Please forgive me for not coming to tell you this in person. I would have called, but didn’t know how to reach you. By the time you get this, we will most likely have conducted the funeral for your mother. Her only wish was that you finish your schooling, to become that man she knew you to be at heart. She believed in you more than anything else in this world, which is why we think she was able to go on as long as she did . . .I found myself sitting on the floor. Folding the letter, I let the impact of it sink in. I would finish reading it soon. For now, I didn’t really care what the rest of it said. My eyes were too blurry and wet to finish.“Why you sad? They not let us go?”I rubbed my eyes and looked up to see Chirp-chirp. Fear still rimmed the edges of his face, a face that looked gaunter than I remembered. Despite his own fears, concern for his brothers and me were evident. Raising Grub had helped mature this young man well beyond his age.“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I know one of the guards, but all he could say was that things would work out well enough for everyone here.”“This is good, yes? So why you crybaby?”I snorted and smiled. It was a genuine smile, though I don’t know how I managed to pull it off. “It’s nothing for you to worry about. I just got sad news from home.”Chirp-chirp nodded. “All home is sad news now.”That was true. I had my problems, which I could do nothing about. But these children all had a problem too. Instead of wallowing in my own grief, I could help them. I felt guilty for pushing my mourning aside. Doing this would probably make it all that more difficult to bear later on, but I had to pull myself together. Now was not the time to shut down. These children needed help and I couldn’t do much for them unless I got out of here.“I need to find a way out if I’m going to help you,” I told Chirp-chirp.“We will seek, we will find—yes we will,” he replied.The tent didn’t have a canvas floor, so sneaking under the wall might work. He walked halfway up one side of the tent. Every meter of the sturdy fabric was staked down and tied securely. I’m sure we could have worked at loosening a stake, digging under, or just tearing the wall to escape, but I wanted to survey the remainder of the walls for an easier weakness. Before I could continue, every head swiveled toward the front of the tent.I turned my gaze to find the focus of everyone’s attention. A medium-built man with a slick comb-over had just entered the tent. He was dressed nicely in a button-up maroon shirt and dark formal wool slacks.“May I have your attention, please,” he said slowly in a deep, slightly British accent. He paused, then lifted a cloth to his nose. I’m sure it did little to dampen the fecal stench attacking his senses. It just gave him an air of arrogance. Lowering the cloth to speak, he went on, “I know you are all scared. I also know that you have a deep love for the hangman. He has, however, committed crimes and he must be punished for them.“None of you have done anything wrong. You are all considered orphans. The youngest of you will be taken to homes, where new families will care for you. Those of you who are older will be taken far from here where there is a school for orphans. They have been advised of your coming and are preparing to help you integrate into normal society.“Please don’t be afraid. You’ve been hidden from the world for too long, but we will help you return to it. It will be new and different, but it will be good for you. In just a minute, food will be brought in for you. We will not let you starve. We are your friends. I would expect that you need only wait here for one day, two at the most, before we help you find your new homes.”The man looked around, maybe trying to judge whether or not he’d been understood. Then, as if he was suddenly assaulted by another whiff of the horrible smell that clung to the air like a mist of aerosol poo, he snapped his dark-patterned handkerchief to his nose and held it there like a gas mask. Without further discourse, he shook his head in what could have either been pity or disgust, then turned and left.I needed to get out of here. But even my own roommate and friend, the one I knew to be smart and wise, wouldn’t let me leave. I’m sure he was just doing his job, and that if he could turn the other way, he might. Surely these people wouldn’t send me off to some reform school to reintegrate into society, would they?It’s not like I was a—my mind suddenly took another turn for the gloomy—I was technically an orphan now. I tried to imagine the complication this might create in getting myself free. I had to consciously force the thoughts away. It was as difficult as telling gravity not to pull on the Earth.I was relieved from my prison of worry when Chirp-chirp grabbed my arm again. “We seek more. You find way out now.”“Yes,” I replied. “We find way out.”We continued to survey the tent walls. For such a thin material, the tent could have been made of steel and not been more secure. The once or twice that Chirp-chirp or I leaned into the wall, we were met by a heavy blunt cudgel from the other side. I didn’t know how many men they had watching the tent, but it had to be a lot if they could keep such a close eye on every square meter of canvas.With a newly bruised shoulder, and a wrist that was almost cracked, I walked back to the center of the tent with Midnight’s former parental partner. “I think we’re both stuck here,” I said.“Iddo,” a hard voice boomed.I looked at Chirp-chirp, confused, then turned to face the opening of the tent. A tall, healthy built man in a police uniform was standing with his billy club in hand. “Iddo, you’re coming with me!”Chirp-chirp took a step to follow, but the officer’s club raised in warning. “No, not you! Just Iddo.”Chirp-chirp paused; I could see a flame of rebellion in his eyes. I’d never seen any of Daddy Smiling’s children display anger before, but my friend looked ready to take up the hangman’s cause. I placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll do everything I can to help you all.”“Be careful, buddy. You are good boy, yes you are.” Chirp-chirp’s anger was replaced by concern. Concern for me, I realized, not himself. Chirp-chirp was as selfless as anyone I’d ever met. I knew right then that he’d place me or any of these other children before himself. As young as he was, he was already a man’s man. I shouldn’t be surprised every time I glimpsed the advanced maturity of these kids. Daddy Smiling may have had little choice in how he raised them, but they sure proved themselves adults ahead of their time. Still, I got the impression that they didn’t sacrifice too much of their childlike wonder and fun for this premature state of mind. At least they didn’t used to.The officer motioned for me to walk in front of him. “Follow the sidewalk to the court building just over there.” He pointed a finger.I did as instructed, aware of the heavy steel rod still clutched firmly in his hands. When I looked back, I saw the outside of the tent. I expected to see guards everywhere, but there were only a few. However, under a small awning, there was a man in front of a computer screen. They had a camera inside the tent. How had I not noticed it before? They didn’t have to surround the tents with a hundred guards. Two or three would be adequate. They would know every time one of us went near the sidewall, and just direct one of the guards to that area. I was stupid for being so ignorant.My momentary distraction earned me a shove from the officer. Thankfully he didn’t pound me with that steel club. I already had enough cuts and bruises to last a month. The court was air conditioned, but had a stale and depressing echo to it. A small peppermint aroma clung to the air around one of the clerk’s desks. The smell reminded me of a sweet older lady, and I had the feeling that if any place might find a just and compassionate resolution to this whole mess, this place might. Only there was no nice lady behind that desk to greet us. The whole building was empty.I was confused, then realization dawned on me. I’d completely lost track of the days. This was Sunday. Nobody would be working today. So why was I being dragged in here? We walked past the reception area and entered the actual courtroom. Apparently Biahn hadn’t lied about everything. Any thoughts of mercy evaporated immediately.The comforting smell of peppermint was replaced by the pungent odor of sweat mixed with tobacco and alcohol. The judge was sitting in his black robes. Chubby and regal, except for a perpetually oily face, he fingered a gavel near his right hand. “Is this the boy?” he called out.“It is,” someone confirmed. I didn’t see who. There weren’t many people in the room, but I didn’t dare look away from the judge. I knew that if I let my attention wander, I would find that I’d walked into a den of conspiratorial mobsters. For some reason that scared me more than keeping eye contact with the judge. Maybe I could convince him. He was the law here, even if he’d put himself in league with these ruffians. If anyone could see reason, it would have to be him.“Is it true; boy; that you wanted to warn the hangman about our coming?”He referred to himself as we. I was in trouble now. I could see it. This wasn’t a legal meeting. It was intimidation in a legal room, opened by a criminal with a key to the courthouse.“Look at me, not the floor!” the judge yelled, spittle spraying from his lips.My head snapped back up. I couldn’t look him in the eyes, not anymore, but I gave a resigned nod.“Pathetic.” He paused, then asked, “Why would you care so much for this monster and murderer?”What do you hate more, that he looks like a monster, or that he protects the innocent children from monsters like you? That’s what I should have said. What came out was, “He saved me once.” Even this feeble attempt to speak well of the hangman came out as barely a squeak.The courtroom filled with laughter—drunken, vile laughter. “Get him out of here,” the judge said, “before someone misses him. He’s no threat.”Strong hands grabbed me and pulled me toward the door. I tried to squirm and turn. “No wait! You have to listen. Those kids, Daddy Smiling, he—”Nobody listened. I was thrown onto the street. “Get going, boy,” one of the men said. “If it weren’t for the fact that you led us straight to these guys, we might not let you go at all. But you watch yourself. Don’t go stirring up trouble, understand?”I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. I scrambled to my feet and ran. I didn’t stop until I was well out of sight. That next twenty minutes might have been the longest foot dragging walk to my apartment that I’d ever taken.Click here to read Chapter 26Copyright 2017: While I encourage you to share this link with your friends and family, please keep in mind that this is copyrighted material. Under no circumstances do you have the right to re-publish any or part of this content without specific written permission from BC Crow and Blue House Publishing.

Swing Low: Chapter 24 and Nearing The End.

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Installment #25 of:Sing Low: The Hangman of the WoodsBy B.C. Crow (Chapter 24Also, you may have heard this before, but remember to choose your friends carefully. They can help you, or they can destroy you.“You’re late, again.” Biahn’s gaze didn’t even leave his desk. His attention remained glued to the article he was working on, his pen changing a word here, deleting one there. His brow was slightly scrunched down, wrinkling as it neared his nose.“I’m very sorry, it’s just that—”“You may have no problem finding excuses, but excuses are like butt holes. Everyone has them and they all stink!”I’d heard that saying before, but it surprised me coming from Biahn. I thought he’d be delighted to see me. I also wondered if my own butt hole really would stink. I was pretty sure I kept it so clean that it wouldn’t. I had to shake the thought away. “But I’m only a few hours late.”“You’re a whole day plus a few hours late,” he accused.A whole day? How—then it hit me. I hadn’t even thought about it. We’d talked about meeting in three days, I knew that, but in my mind, I’d thought three days of searching. I’d spent that first night sleeping in my apartment. So really, I was a day late. Maybe I could still salvage this encounter. “I think I’ve found them.”This time Biahn did put down his pen. The hard shell of his disappointed eyes thinned quickly and I wondered where the Biahn of thirty seconds ago had just vanished to. The only explanation I could think of was that he was simply a good-natured person. Cruelness wasn’t something that came easily to him, so it must also leave him more easily than others.He laced his fingers together, then smiled. “Well, Iddo, this might be good news after all.” He reached behind him and took hold of his map. I brought mine to the table, as well. I unfolded mine as he unrolled his.The hunting party was still a good three, maybe four days from where I’d found the tracks. It looked like they’d done a fair amount of backtracking, just to be safe. Even if they did stumble near where I’d found the footprint, it would probably take them another day or two on top of that to find the hangman’s camp. I felt more optimistic about my chances of finding them first.“I’ll see what I can do to buy you a couple extra days,” Biahn said as he shook my hand. “Are you going home to your apartment tonight, or are you going back out today?”“Everything is still so fresh. If I leave now, I should be able to find those footprints again, then track them down.”“You kind of stink, you know that, right? If I were you, I’d go home for an hour or two. Get clean, pack a few new meals. Besides, what would your friends there think, if you suddenly show up smelling like three or four days of sweat?”I thought of Midnight running up to greet me, then stopping short to plug her nose. Not a bad idea. I hadn’t noticed my smell before now—or at least not much. If it was bad enough for Biahn to smell from a few feet away, I’d hate to repel what might be my best hope of winning a bride. “Thanks for the tip. I think maybe I will go home and shower first. But I’m still going out right afterward. I want to find those tracks before it gets too dark to see them.”“Good luck, Iddo. I’m sure you’ll find them soon. I’ll do what I can to stall the mob. What're you going to do once you find them?”I hadn’t thought about that. I’d been so engrossed in just locating them first, I hadn’t considered what to do once I found them. “I don’t know yet. Do you have any good ideas?”“Wish I did, son. My only idea is that you have them cross back on their retreat to a place the mob won’t think about searching again.”“Thanks, Biahn.” I got up to leave, but he stood also. A little confused, I asked, “You’re not coming with me, are you?”“Oh no. Remember, I told you that I was very busy today. You're lucky you even found me here. If I'm going to help you, I’ve got to run a few errands and get my work done before I meet up with the mob. You need me to stay behind, delay or misdirect them while you find and get your people to safety.”I looked down at his article that he’d been so absorbed in only moments ago. He followed my attention. “Oh, that. That can wait. It was just busywork till you showed up. I’ve been impatient for you to return. I knew you’d show up, but didn’t expect you to be this late. By the way, I am sorry for getting after you about that. I tend to lose patience easily.”Biahn losing patience easily? No, that didn’t feel right. But I acquiesced. If I was as busy as Biahn surely was, I’d be a little annoyed with tardiness, too.Once out of the building, I jogged back to my apartment. At least I jogged for several meters before I realized that I could walk just as fast and use half the energy. Not that I was a particularly fast walker. I was just a really slow runner.After six long days of hiking, I had no clean clothes. The last three days had plastered a thick coating of dust and pollen all over my face, and yes, I did stink. Before showering, though, I cleaned three shirts, two pairs of brown jeans and enough underwear to match. I wanted something fresh to climb into after I washed myself. In the heat of the mid afternoon sun, my clothes would dry quickly. I packed a few meals then cleaned up. By the time I put on a second hand t-shirt with the faded earthy colored jeans, they were nearly dry. They’d been sitting out in the sun for almost an hour, and were only just a little damp around the seams. I could live with that.By five o’clock I was back at the edge of the woods. With my compass in one hand, I tried to orient myself so that I could find my way back to the tracks as quickly as possible. I folded the map and stood upright. Here I go, I better not get lost. I suddenly had a feeling of grave responsibility. What would I do once I found them? How dangerous was the mob? I mostly wanted to find the hangman and his children for Midnight’s sake. But I couldn’t just take her back with me and leave the rest of them to the mercy of the mob. They would—what would they do?I turned in a slow circle, trying to imagine a group of men with torches and poles coming to torture or capture what I could only describe as my future in-laws. I sighed deeply, then started into the woods.I’d only gone a few hundred meters when I thought I heard a stick break behind me. I stopped and spun around. Nothing. Thinking about the mob must have put my senses on high alert. They weren’t behind me. I was alone. Biahn had said they wouldn’t be showing up for several more hours. I heard noises like this all the time while I was hiking. I think the added pressure of this evening was just making me paranoid. Besides, even if the mob was going to search tonight, Biahn was going to be with them. He’d keep them searching in the wrong spot for a good week while I helped the hangman escape.After a few hours, I knew I was close to where I'd discovered the footprint. Even with the help of my map and compass, I couldn't find it. I should have tied something to a tree so that I could more easily find my way back. Especially in this fading light, everything looked different. I zigzagged around until it was too dark to see.Finally I made camp. I’d been so naive to think that I could just stroll on back, find the footprint, then follow them back into Daddy Smiling’s camp. Sleep was hard to come by. I tossed and turned. I knew I was close. I also was afraid of not actually being able to find them. Then there was the mob. Every noise of the dense forest made me think that the mob was surrounding my camp. From the creaking of trees to the patterns of insect noises, I imagined the worst.I fell asleep at what I guessed was three in the morning. I awoke as the sky was shifting from black to dark blue. The sun would be up in less than an hour. I wanted to sleep longer, but decided against it. I splashed a little water onto my face, then thought of something. Looking at the canteen, I realized that there wasn’t any lake or pond around here. Daddy Smiling would need water for all his children and they had very little to pack it in.Pulling out my map, I studied it for a moment. With all my zig-zagging and no clear point of reference, I could only guess my location, but as I studied it, I noticed a faint, almost invisible crease snaking near my position. I hadn’t noticed it before. It was easy to miss, but it could be the beginning of a small stream.If that’s what it was, I definitely hadn’t crossed it yet. A stream should eventually feed into a larger creek. I traced my finger along it. Yes, several kilometers away it met with a thin blue line. Daddy Smiling had to be somewhere along this first little stream.I ate as quickly as possible before leaving. I felt so sure about this morning. I would find them at last. By noon I was kicking up damp clumps of sod. I’d found that tiny trickle of a stream. It wasn't any wider than my hand in most spots. It was good clean water, though, and I’d hiked most of it. I didn’t see a single footprint. Frustrated, I collapsed on a rock several meters from the water. I didn’t want to see or hear the trickling reminder of my morning’s failure. As I sat in silence, I suddenly picked up on the faintest of sounds. It was still far off in the distance.At first I worried that my paranoia of last night might have been justified. Maybe some of the town’s mob had followed me. As I strained to listen, I could just start to make out the words. My heart sped and I listened with excitement. “If you get there before I do / Coming for to carry me home . . .”I jumped to my feet and ran toward where I thought I heard Daddy Smiling’s voice. I paused, then listened. At first I couldn’t hear anything above the sound of my own wheezing. Then I heard it again. “The brightest day that I can say / Coming for to carry me home . . .”I sprinted for another minute or two, then paused. This time I heard nothing. Not even the birds were chirping anymore. Not a single sound except for my own wheezing lungs and the occasional groan of a tree. I pulled out my map again, trying to keep an ear tuned for any sounds. I couldn’t see anything on the map that indicated anything special about this area.I hadn’t imagined that deep melodic voice. Maybe it had bounced around, and I’d run the wrong way. I felt so close, but was terrified that I'd lose my chance. When I remembered how well Daddy Smiling knew these woods, and how much ground he seemed to always cover, my spirits sank even deeper.While I was folding my map, I dropped my compass. As I bent over to pick it up, I noticed that the dirt had been disturbed. It was a footprint of a smaller child. Quickly stowing my compass, I followed it to the next set of prints. Soon they were joined by more. By this time, I was grinning. I was finally on my way. Half an hour later, I couldn’t distinguish the tracks anymore because there were too many. They led all over the place in every direction. Daddy Smiling’s group had been here. Now, nothing. Just a lot of packed earth. My enthusiasm drained as reality sank in. I’d finally stumbled close to them, but they were on the move. It might take me days to catch up to them.I knew I was hungry, though I had little appetite for food at that moment. I wanted to find their tracks away from here. At the same time, I wanted to lie down and feel sorry for myself. I’d been so sure I would've found them by now. I decided on something in the middle. I would have lunch, then resume looking for them. I was just about to unzip my backpack when I heard a twig snap.I looked up into the branches about three trees away. Two innocent-looking eyes were staring back at me. I smiled and waved. “Hello there. I’m Iddo. What’s your name?”They continued to stare, not answering, but then I heard other branches snapping. Before long, little heads were peering down at me from every tree and up from every shrub.“Olly olly oxen free!” someone shouted, and they all came out from hiding to greet me. My head swiveled from side to side until my gaze rested on the most beautiful face ever. Midnight was shyly stepping closer through the crowd of small children. She paused about five meters from me, then we both ran to each other and embraced in a long-overdue hug. She cried and I kissed her face.We held each other for a long moment before other kids, Grub included, pulled me away and laughed as they poked my belly. In all my hiking, I’d hoped that some of my considerable weight would disappear, but it hadn’t. Right now that didn’t matter one bit. I’d found them.For the first time, I was something of a celebrity. Nobody clung tighter to me, though, than Midnight. “I’ll never let you out of my sight again,” I promised her. For ten good minutes I endured the attention from everyone. At last I asked, “Where’s Daddy Smiling? He needs to know what I know.”“Daddy Smiling looks for new home. We play hide-and-seek, yes we do. Bad men seek. We hide. Daddy Smiling keep us safe. We love Daddy Smiling, yes we do.”“I know where the bad men will be looking for you all. I can help.”“Daddy Smiling knows where bad men are, too. He follow them every night.”It hadn’t occurred to me that Daddy Smiling would be following the men. Why not? He knew these woods better than anyone. He was more prepared to help his children than I could ever be. Maybe I really did know this, deep down. Maybe in my selfishness, all I really wanted was to make sure that I didn’t lose Midnight forever.No! My intentions were good. Yes, I wanted to find Midnight, but I also wanted to help Daddy Smiling in any way I could.I’d rarely heard any words from his deformed mouth other than that repetitive song; and in truth, I knew that he suffered from some mental disability, but I hadn’t the slightest clue as to the extent of his mental ability. What was really going on in his mind? I was starting to suspect that there were depths to him that neither I, nor anyone else, would ever understand.“Is Daddy Smiling here?” I asked again. “I want to let him know that I plan to bring you back with me. Will you come back with me?”“Silly Iddo. I will come with you, yes I will. We be Mommy Midnight and Daddy Iddo forever. I love you, yes I do.”I hugged her tight again. “So where is Daddy Smiling? I want to let him know.”“You not tell him now. He just come back, now he sleep. He need sleep for finding bad men tonight.”“Okay, Midnight, I’ll wait till he wakes up.”Dinner came early. I guessed that the hangman wanted it so. That way he could leave with enough time to find the mob before they got too far into their search. As he ate, I approached him. I hadn’t expected to feel nervous, but every one of my bones felt like jelly. Fear of the hangman had nothing to do with it. Fear of asking permission for Midnight’s hand from her adopted father was the real knee-trembling experience. I tried not to stare at his head-splitting mouth as he took a bite of a large fruit that seemed dwarfed in front of his massive teeth.“D-daddy S-miling, I know you’re being chased down by some bad men.” My words came more easily as I skirted the main focus of my topic. “I know where they’ve been looking, but I guess you already know that. I wanted to see if I could help, but I don’t know if you even need my help. I guess what I really want to know is, if you’ll let me take Midnight with me. We love each other and wish to be married.”There, it was out. A little convoluted, but I’d said it. A huge but gentle hand touched my arm. I realized that my eyes were focused on the green ground cover by my feet. I quickly raised my eyes up to meet his. They were eerily gray but at the same time warm and accepting. Suddenly they took on a sharp wariness. My throat seemed to swell shut, until he diverted his eyes and slowly searched the surrounding trees.“Don’t anybody move!” came the loud order as a dozen men, each armed with machetes, encircled the camp. With them were at least three warriors. Those mercenaries still clinging to their wartime ways were always recognizable. The last place you wanted to be was on the unpaid end of their attention. In a sense they were like the journalists whose loyalties aligned perfectly with the highest bidder. Given my foreknowledge of the journalists’ attitudes, I shouldn’t have been surprised to recognize one other man.We locked gazes for a moment. “Sorry, Iddo,” Biahn said with a half-smile. “I know how much you like the hangman, but this was just too good of a story to let pass.”The feeling of betrayal is nearly impossible to describe, even if I should have known better. “You followed me?” I could hardly believe it. Anger, mixed with sadness and despair, exchanged a rapid struggle for my cognitive focus.“Why should we wear out our shoes when you were perfectly willing to do the legwork for us?”“Round them all up,” one of the men ordered. “And be careful with that beast, he looks as strong as a truck. He’s the one we’re after.”I swept my gaze around. Frightened children cowered close to one another. Midnight dug her fingers into my arm, as if anchoring herself to her only hope of safety. Five men with ropes confronted the hangman. He must've known that he was beaten. He didn’t even put up a fight. I pried Midnight off my arm and stepped between the men and the hangman.I opened my mouth to protest, until I felt one of his massive hands blanketing my right shoulder. I looked up through wetting eyes. I wanted to tell him how sorry I was. Instead there was a reassuring softness to his hideous countenance that told me all was well.As gently as he would cradle a newborn, he pulled me to the side, and stepped forward to greet his captors. Within a minute he was bound so tight that his hands took on a shade of purple. His feet were left free, but a slip knot was fastened around his neck to lead him along.“If you don’t want to be bound or beaten, grab hold of this rope and don’t let go!” shouted a man as he and another uncoiled a long manila rope. Girls with babes in arms and boys alike all joined in a line along the rope. A few stragglers were slapped with the flat end of machetes.Midnight was grabbed by a rough-shaven skinny guy who smelled strongly of wine. His hands looked like rusty vises as he dragged her over to the rope. I jump up to him and tugged at his other arm. He was surprisingly strong and swatted me to the ground. Before I could react, I was getting kicked and clubbed by two other men. “You’re no hero, boy. If you aren’t one of us, you’re one of them.”They pulled me to my feet and then the machetes started whacking me in the back and the butt. Each blow with the flat end of the blade brought a burning welt. I had no illusions as to what my back looked like. The edges of my zebra stripes were accented by bloody lines where the edge of the knives ripped into my skin. Each time one of those blades smacked flesh, my eyes lost focus in a daze of bright stars. They weren’t just beating me; they were trying to break me.Just when I thought I’d fall to the forest floor, never to rise again, I found my hand clutching the line of rope. Midnight was ten children in front of me, but I hadn’t the strength to press closer to her.Then the rope tugged. My wobbling legs followed as we were led away.Click here to read Chapter 25Copyright 2017: While I encourage you to share this link with your friends and family, please keep in mind that this is copyrighted material. Under no circumstances do you have the right to re-publish any or part of this content without specific written permission from BC Crow and Blue House Publishing.

Swing Low: Chapter 23 An Uber Long Chapter

Biggest Chapter of this book

This might be my last release for this week, since this chapter too so much longer to edit.

I'll try to get another one out by Saturday, but if not, sorry.

If you're new to this, start atThe Beginning. And thanks for sharing my stories with all your friends.
Installment #24 of:Sing Low: The Hangman of the WoodsBy B.C. Crow (Chapter 23Don’t believe everything you read, unless of course you’re reading it from me. I’m not trying to pad my wallet with money. My sole aim is to improve all the lives around me. Maybe you’d expect most journalists to believe in their work. Well, they make a good show of it. But give equal weight to my version of the story too, as you make up your mind about the truth.It took a whole month for the news to leak out. I hadn’t forgotten seeing Biahn in the woods that one night with Krystal. Something about his little mob reminded me of a witch hunt, and I could only hope that they were trying to clean out the forest from those evil soothsayers.It’s almost ironic—no, it is ironic. The group they should be hunting down was left alone. The title of Biahn’s first article that the paper published was titled, “Mass Murderer Makes Widows in the Woods.” It was by no means front-page material, but for our periodical, it found its way there. I happened to find it on the printed version, since I never felt comfortable in front of a computer.You had to look deep into the printing to find my story about the ringworm outbreak in the college gym, even if it carried more truth than this slanderous article about the hangman.The title had a memorable ring to it. I usually ignored what I considered the bad-news articles. Somehow, just knowing Daddy Smiling, I was inspired to look for the good in everything. Well, most everything. Reading bad news tended to make that exercise a little more difficult.The news was as grim as I could've imagined. Not one hint about Devil-worshiping hags and wizards. No, but he made plenty of mention about being on the trail of a dangerous man with a rope who kidnaps children for who knows what purpose. The innocent fathers were strangled to death. This hangman preyed on all who dared enter the woods.Of course, the article made no mention as to why the fathers were taking their young babes into the woods in the first place. Nor did it mention that all these children were seconds or thirds in a family that was allowed only one.Few details were given. Just enough to confirm to me that these men actually were on the path of the hangman, and that he truly was hiding on the southeastern side of the woods. I’d been wrong to dismiss the inhospitable landscape. It made some sense, though. If he was being pursued, where better to hide than among dangerous witches and hard-to-hike-through brambles? If these men had been pursuing the hangman for several months, which it now appeared they’d been doing, then living in that part of the woods was the only reason he and his children hadn’t been found yet.I finished my last class for the day, then half ran to the publishing house. As I walked in the door, Krystal eyed me coldly. My gaze fell to the floor. Ever since that night I’d walked with her, seen Biahn, and well, I’d avoided her. I’d promised myself to Midnight, and I truly did like her over Krystal. The fact that I hadn’t told Krystal why I’d been avoiding her only made things more awkward between us. In the last month, she’d become increasingly critical of my work, even snippy with me on the occasions when I did have to converse with her.“Is Biahn here?” I asked, still staring at her shoes.“Yes.” But the ice in her voice said that I had no hope of speaking with him.“I’ve really got to talk to him. It’s about the story he’s working on.”“Your job is to report on campus life. Leave the real stories for the professionals.” Krystal planted her primly manicured fists against her waist.“Krystal,” I begged, “this is important.”Krystal’s lush lips puckered. Not in the way that would suggest a kiss, or another kiss I should say, but more like the kind that was wetting itself for an indignant verbal assault.Just as her finger lifted and her lips parted, the suave tone of Biahn’s voice broke the tension. Waves of static washed away from Krystal’s defense as the senior reporter asked, “The mass murderer? You know something about the hangman story?”“How much time do you have?”Biahn was a professional. His ego wasn’t important, at least, not while chasing a story. Any lead he had on a story was time worth spending. I admired that about him. He ushered me into his little office. It was surprisingly clean. I thought that with all the firsthand research he did, he’d have clutter everywhere. Krystal didn’t join us. She stalked away. I got the impression that my audience with Biahn, against her will, would soon come back to trouble me.I told Biahn everything about the hangman. His only sources up until now had been the extremely biased lies from that posse hunting down the unusual foster parent. Biahn sat silently. One hand massaged his chin. The other gripped a pen that went first to his lips, occasionally down, jotting notes in a form of shorthand that I didn’t understand, then back to his mouth again.“Iddo, my good man, you are wonderful!”“So, how close are these men to actually finding the hangman?”Biahn’s hand lifted from his chin to wipe at his eyes, then rested back on the table. He was careful to answer, clearly concerned over my feelings for the hangman. “To be completely honest, Iddo, I think it won’t take long at all. The hangman—er, I mean, Daddy Smiling—he keeps moving his camp around. But from what you’ve told me, with all those children, he won’t be able to move very quickly. My guess is that in another couple weeks, these men'll have tracked him down once and for all.”“But you know the truth now. Isn’t there anything you can do?”“These men hunting him don’t care about the truth. If what you’ve told me is true, they're just as bad a bunch of murderers as they accuse the hangman of being. They’ve all lost either a brother, a friend, or a child to this guy.”“Yeah, but if they lost a child, they’re lucky they didn’t lose their life, too; something they really deserved.”“Look, Iddo, I agree with you. But I’ve spent time with these guys. I can tell you of a surety they'll not relent. Not till the hangman is dead.”“That’s not fair!” My fingers ached, and I noticed that I was gripping Biahn’s desk, trying to wring the slick, unmalleable laminated-wood top like a sponge. I relaxed my grip and tried to calm down. “Isn’t there anything we can do?”I knew I wasn’t making the best impression. I’m not especially good at being angry. I would sooner be mistaken for nervous, not the most helpful of expressions.Biahn leaned back in his chair, clasped both hands together, and raised them. A few gentle taps against his lips as he contemplated, then his eyes lit up. He was still careful with his words as he voiced his thoughts. “As I see it, the real issue has nothing to do with the stories I publish, but everything to do with finding and saving this so-called hangman and his children. I don’t usually participate in the stories I follow, I merely observe. It’s one of the main reasons I’m allowed access to so many good digs. But maybe I could bend my rules just a little bit.”He puzzled in his chair for a few seconds. His eyes were distant, staring through me, through the wall beyond me. Slowly, one eyebrow at first, then the other raised. I’d never taken much time to know the reporter, but I could see in his calculating features that he was more than a man with a pencil and a knack for being where the stories were happening. He might not have hit the big-time reporting yet, but he would someday. Finally, he opened his mouth.“I’m going back into the woods tonight with those men. I’ll—”“What! You can’t be serious, after what I just—”He raised his hand to silence me, but it was the hardness of his face that froze my speech. With all the coolness of a shrewd general he said in measured tones, “I'll go with them tonight. But I'll be more than just a spectator. I’m going to join their hunt.”I wanted to cry. How could he join them? His hard stare kept me silent, though.“I’ll increase their trust in me. I'll learn what I can. Everything I learn about their hunt, I’ll pass on to you. It’ll be up to you to find the hangman first. Once you find him, I’ll help you keep him at least one step ahead of this mob.”I exhaled in relief. “What about your stories?”“Don’t get me wrong, these men are dangerous. While they aren’t exactly the smartest bunch of guys, don’t think for a minute that they’re alone. The ones tromping through the woods are just the tip of the spear. They're the muscle behind the real power. There're many men, smart, too, who'd notice if my articles took on an opposing stand to their activities.”“Who are you talking about?”“Let’s just say that if the hangman is ever captured, there'll be no fair trial.”I swallowed hard. I had to find Daddy Smiling first.“Meet me here tomorrow around noon. I’ll let you know everything I learn. Can you take time off school to start searching the woods?”“I’ll talk to my teachers. I’m sure I can work something out for a week. Two might be a stretch, but if I need to, I can make it happen. My job here is another thing.”I looked out the door. I thought Krystal had completely abandoned us, but she was there, eavesdropping. Our eyes met. She sensed my nonverbal intentions.“Oh no you don’t.” She threw her hands in the air as she stepped closer to the doorway. “You can’t drag me into this. This romp of yours would put me on the line, too. If I lose this job, I’ll have to go back home. That isn’t happening!”“Krystal.” Biahn pouted, his lower lip not quite protruding. “Couldn’t you cover for this young man for just a few days? A week at the most. It’s not like his work is all that difficult or important, anyway.”That stung a bit, even if Biahn was arguing on my behalf.“No way. I’m not getting involved in this. I don’t owe you any favors, Iddo.”“Then do it for me,” Biahn begged gently. “I’ll have a talk with the bosses. They’ll be more than happy to lend me Iddo, if I tell them it’s for a big story I’m working on. He’ll be my temporary partner on this.  Think about it. If Iddo’s story is true, how big would you imagine this story could get once I expose it for what it is?”“Why not just do that now?” I asked.“Evidence. We can’t just make outrageous accusations. Like I said, this little mob has powerful backing. I’ll need more time. I’ll make sure you get some credit for this too, Krystal.”“So tomorrow at noon?” I confirmed.Biahn nodded his head then turned to Krystal, eyes locking on hers.She threw her shoulders down with a huff of frustration before storming out of the office.“You must've done something to that girl. I’ve seen that brand of anger before.”I just shook my head. How could I explain what I had yet to understand?“Don’t worry about her,” Biahn assured me. “She’ll come around.”For the rest of the day, I wrote article after article. They were the plain vanilla sort of stuff that the company could use as filler material. I had every intention of taking as much pressure off Krystal as possible. After seven articles, enough to last a whole week, I crashed onto my bed. The little hand on my cheap clock was pointing at one o’clock. Reluctantly I got off my bed again to flip off the light.Duy wasn’t home yet. He was probably still out partying at some girl’s apartment. If he was out there this late, he probably wouldn’t come back until the sun was up again. Even if he did come back, though, I doubted he’d wake me. I was asleep before my head even hit the bed.I woke up early. Still tired, I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep. Nightmares had plagued my head all night. I’d imagined all sorts of evils done to Daddy Smiling and all his children. None of my professors would be in yet, so I cleaned myself up and cooked a hearty breakfast. Might as well start off the day right. I reviewed all my articles from last night, and realized how horrible they were. I spent the next hour editing them. They still weren’t great, but Krystal could touch them up for me, even if grudgingly.My first class started at eight thirty and I was there at eight fifteen to visit with the professor before class started. The professor basically just pointed me toward the syllabus from the beginning of the semester. She told me to keep up on the reading, and that the final test would make up for any small quizzes I missed.Most of my other classes were similar. Missing two weeks irked some of my professors a little, but only one took some real persuasion to give me leeway with my assignments.By noon I was running to the publishing house. I'd be late in meeting with Biahn. Not a great way to start things out, but at least I’d accomplished what I needed to this morning. I was all ready for two weeks of catching up to the hangman before someone else did.Biahn was even later than I. After I’d waited in his office for nearly an hour, he strolled on in. His face was a passive display of good humor. I could almost think that he forgot all about our meeting. I had no intention of accusing him of such. Not only did I fear confrontation, I needed his willing participation.“Is it noon already?” he asked, smile and charm never wavering.“Uh, sure.”We stared somewhat awkwardly at each other for a minute. I’d just opened my mouth to fill the void when he said, “Iddo, my boy, are you sure you’re ready to tackle this thing?”I straightened my back. “I’ve never been more ready. Someone’s got to help, and it would seem that I’m the only one who cares enough to do so.”“I care too, Iddo, don’t forget that. I want you to return to me every day or two to report where you are and what you’ve found. I’ll lead the hunters to areas you’ve already searched, and let you know where else they might have looked or are planning on looking. Together we’ll stay just a step ahead of them. We'll find the hangman first, I promise.”I smiled for the first time since our meeting had started. It was still a serious, measured smile, but I was pleased with where the conversation was going. Pulling out my small aerial photo from my last crossing of the woods, I asked, “So, where do we begin?”Biahn scrutinized my crude map. “We start by going over the areas that have already been searched, but not with that.” He reached under his desk and produced two expensive looking fold-out maps. Fully opened and flattened, the maps were each close to a meter wide and about two-thirds of a meter tall. Everything about them was identical, including the yellow and red highlights that Biahn must have penned in.As I studied the map, Biahn pointed out the few red marks first. “These are where we discovered remnants of the hangman’s band. They move very stealthily, but it’s impossible to move that many kids without occasionally dropping some evidence of their passage.” The numbered marks zigzagged all over the forest, but clearly moved in a lazy southeasterly direction."As you can see, there's a little overlap. They're trying to make it real hard for the hangman to backtrack," Biahn said. Eventually the hangman would have to attempt to backtrack, or he'd get cornered on the sea shore. But that could take up to a month or two at their current pace.A month or two wasn’t very much time. If I was to help, I needed to find them either this week or next. Silently I examined the map for a minute.“Well, what do you think?”I looked up at Biahn. “The map shows very few lakes or ponds between your searched area and the sea. There are plenty of small streams, but not enough to catch a lot of fish in. I’ve spent enough time with them to know how they forage for food."Most likely what they're doing is moving every evening before dark, even if just a little. Then they’d need to camp for the night. In the morning, they'd send the boys to gather food. Since fish will be scarce, they’ll need to search a little wider in the woods to find enough food to bring back to the camp. By late afternoon or early evening, I’d guess they’d be on the move again.Instead of combing the woods like your hunters are doing, I think I should be able to find them by hiking perpendicular to your search patterns. If I go from your search area to the sea, then zigzag back about a kilometer or two farther, I should be able to find them. That is, as long as I do most of my hiking during the first half of the day.”“Why the first half of the day?”“Like I said, that’s when all the boys will be spread out looking for food. Your hunters are just looking at night when they’re all huddled up in a group. During the day, while they’re foraging, they’ll be spread out over a much larger area.”Biahn nodded. “Iddo, you'll make a great investigative reporter someday.”“I hope not. I want to be a doctor.”“Well, you have a good head on your shoulders in any case. I’ll look you up on that day when I need a doctor. Shall we plan on meeting here again tomorrow afternoon?”“Let’s plan for three days from now. Those woods are hard to hike and I might not move as fast as I’d like. I’ll plan on meeting you here around five or six in the evening.”Biahn extended his hand. “Good luck, Iddo.”I grabbed his hand with one of mine, reaching my other to grab the map. “I’ll see you in three days.”I started at the edge of the forest where the band of men chasing the hangman had ended their search only one night ago. As tempting as it was to continue the mob’s search pattern, I didn’t want them to find the hangman first. I was wary of witches, but no longer afraid of them; I knew how the hangman’s children moved and foraged.After the first day of hiking, I realized that it would take a whole week to get all the way down to the sea. Instead I decided to hike only one-and-a-half days in that direction before coming back about two kilometers deeper into the woods.All day, every day, I searched for any sign or footprint that might suggest a foraging party. Nothing. No sign of the children, the hangman, or even the other searchers. I refused to slow my pace. When darkness fell, I was nearly exhausted. Even my bones felt as weary as an overworked muscle.I almost collapsed just making a campfire to cook my food. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d pushed myself so hard. Sleep would've come quickly, but I forced myself to study and do homework by firelight for at least an hour or two each night.At the end of day three, I was only an hour away from the college town again. If I hadn’t been ready to collapse from fatigue, I might have finished the hike to sleep in my own bed. Three days of the hardest hiking I’d ever done left each muscle feeling bruised and worn into knots. There was no way I’d ever be able to hike that last couple kilometers tonight.In the morning, like each morning before, I ate a light breakfast before starting my hike back. Like the morning before, the first kilometer was just as hard as the last kilometer from the night before. Bones felt like splintering and muscles were so tight that my feet dragged with every step. What should have taken an hour, took two. By nine in the morning, I was pushing my way into the publishing house.Biahn wasn’t in yet but Krystal was. She said little, mostly she just eyed me. Whether she felt spite or curiosity, I was beyond worrying about it. I waited until noon, catching up on my homework, then Biahn finally came through the doors. After a quick stop in the break room for a porcelain cup of coffee, he entered his way to his office.“So the cavalry returns. You’re a day late.”“Yeah, I think meeting every four days is a little more reasonable. Any news from your friends?”Biahn gave me a sly, knowing glance. “Same story.” He pulled out his map. I pulled out mine. “I updated this last night. You can scratch about two more kilometers from your search area.”“They covered that much ground already?”“Remember, you were gone for four days.”I showed him the area I'd covered. Together we went over the anticipated search area for the next few days. When we were done, Biahn offered to buy me lunch. I was delighted; I never eat out. It’s one of those luxuries reserved for people with money, not people struggling to get by or save up to care for a sick mother and possibly a new wife.He took me to a grill shack. It was a dusty, open-air shed roof over a hot grill and two televisions. Meat, pickled cabbage, and cheap wine were the top menu items. I think wine was usually ordered more often than the meat. Not really surprising. The food was subpar compared to what I could cook.I opted against beer, choosing an orange soda instead. It was one of only two flavors of soda they had. But, it was a free meal and I guessed that Biahn could easily afford it. In my estimation, he would soon be leaving our small-time publisher and make a break for some of the bigger outfits in the region.“Listen, Iddo, just so you know, my schedule is starting to book up pretty fast for the next couple days. I need to know that you'll be able to make an appointment with me at noon in three days.”“Three? Not four?”“Like I said, I’ve got a busy schedule coming up. Watch your time better, don’t push so deep into the woods. Do whatever you need to do, but I want to plan on three days.”It wouldn’t be easy. But I figured it was possible. “I promise. I’ll be there on time. I have a much better idea of what I’m doing now.” At least I hoped I did.I finished the last bite of skewered chicken. No, the golden-brown chicken wasn’t great, but it was salty, and that was something I’d been craving for the last day or so. Hiking three days straight can really drain a guy.A few more words of encouragement from Biahn, then we parted again. It wasn’t like I needed a pump-up speech. I was already motivated far more than Biahn was. But he was older and had a take-charge attitude. This was going to be a good story for his career, but I wasn’t thinking about my career. I was worried about my future wife and a good-hearted man trying to protect so many children.I didn’t set straight out that afternoon. I went to my apartment first. My muscles were still sore, but I still had some time and energy left in the day to work on my schoolwork. Still, as soon as I sat down, it took all my self-control to keep from falling asleep. Somehow I managed to get all caught up before Thing Two walked through the door.“Have you seen Thing One today? I need to talk to him.”I looked up from the kitchen table. My blank face told him everything before I said, “No.”“What about Duy? Is he in?”Again, a slight shake of my head.Thing Two slammed his fist down hard on the table. I jumped, my eyes suddenly popping wide open.“I don’t have time for this!” Thing Two shouted. “Argggh!”I leaned back ever so slightly. I wanted to sneak off to my room, but caution held me steady. Thing Two’s mood swings were getting worse every month. The last thing I needed was to trigger an outburst directed at me.Even Duy was trying to avoid the guy. Somehow, much to Duy’s displeasure, Thing Two always found his way to the parties that Duy was at, even when Duy flat out tried to ditch our roommate. It looked like this was one of those days when Duy succeeded in sneaking off without Thing Two. Usually when that happened, Duy would show up hours later, drunk or high on who knows what. It always surprised me that he could find his way back here at all when in that state. Usually he couldn’t even remember where he’d been once he sobered up. At least he didn’t own a car. He’d be long dead by now if he ever got behind a wheel.Luckily, Thing Two vented his frustration quickly before slamming the door on his way out of the apartment, mumbling something like, "Why can't I remember?"He didn’t seem to notice that I’d been gone for the last three days. Oh well. Not like I wanted him to notice. Talking to him was like talking to someone who'd already heard everything and couldn’t bear listening to the same story again.My old hard futon mattress had never felt more inviting. The sun still hadn’t settled, but I did. Before I completely drifted into dreamland, something Thing Two had said struck me. Thing One had been gone quite a bit this semester, but I couldn’t remember even seeing him in the past two weeks. I wondered what could be so time consuming. If there really was anyone that I’d enjoy a talk with, it would have been him.Morning came quickly. The chirping alarm on my cheap digital watch woke me at four in the morning. An hour later I was rubbing sleep out of my eyes as I walked down the quiet street.There was a chill in the air and smells from burning cook fires were clinging low to the earth. It was both refreshing and a little ominous. I hoped it wouldn’t rain. I could warm up quickly just by hiking. Not only was hiking in wet clothes annoying, but the day after a rainstorm, the extra humidity would make an unbearable sticky hot day to follow.Dark clouds shaded the morning sunlight, but passed on by late morning. By that time, I was already hiking along my previously planned route. Well, maybe not exactly along my planned route. This early in the day, I felt comfortable in stretching the space between my hike yesterday and my path today by nearly a whole kilometer. The boys in the hangman’s group would be out foraging and they often wandered more than that in a day. If they were near, I might find them.At the end of day one, I found nothing. Day two was about the same, but I lost too many hours dodging not one but three witches’ homes. They could have just been hermits; well, at least one of them could have been a hermit. The other two were definitely dabbling in evil arts. If the creepy bones, runes, and weird idols weren’t dead giveaways, the dark mood of the surrounding area was. I assumed that the third shanty was a witch’s home, also. It didn’t have the same unnerving decor scattered around the home, but it was so close to these other two.The delay meant that I didn’t reach my turnaround point until late in the second day. I could smell the salty water teasing me from a distance. I knew I was still too far away to find it, but the scent of the sea made me feel that if I could just see beyond the next the trees, I’d have an open view of waves lapping against the shore. That was just wishful thinking on my part. I was simply catching the smells carried on the wind.Instead of pressing on, I ate a hearty dinner. I’d found plenty of roots and berries earlier in the day. The berries were especially good when eaten with the last of my bread. How I’d like to push on till I got to the water’s edge, but that wasn’t practical. So, I started my next leg back. All of this hiking was exhausting, but my endurance was improving. I hiked for a few more hours, until it was too dark to go on.When I finally did stop for the night, I didn’t collapse immediately to sleep. For the first time in my life, I offered a quiet prayer to a God I’d never really known. If there truly was an omnipotent being of righteousness, which I’d slowly been coming around to accept over the last year or more, maybe I should try this prayer thing I’d heard about. I wasn’t sure exactly how to go about it. But if He could read my mind, then maybe it didn’t matter how I addressed Him, as long as I was sincere.I spoke, then lowered my voice to a whisper, my words feeling lonely in the vast still night. I pleaded my case, and remembered to thank Him for the faith to overcome the witch of last year. I also thanked him for any help he may have lent me with the witches I’d passed last night. Mostly I asked Him to help me find Midnight and Daddy Smiling. I figured that God would rather I call him Daddy Smiling instead of the hangman.When I was finished, I sat there for a long time, wondering if I was being silly or if my petition had even been heard. Finally I drifted to sleep. Early in the morning, I was wakened by the sound of a light drizzling rain. It didn’t last long, and I was able to stay dry, but it did hit the ground enough to dampen it. Before the sun lit the sky, the cloud passed. I’d eaten all my food last night, so I didn’t worry about breakfast. I could gather a thing here or there as I walked.I felt more refreshed than I had on any other morning this week. Occasionally I looked down at my cheap compass to make sure I was still heading in the right direction. I didn’t think I’d find the hangman today, but I did have a good spring in my step. Around midmorning I realized that I needed to start back to the town if I was to meet Biahn. I went for one more hour, or at least until I reached a small pond that was a key landmark on my search. I found the pond at ten o’clock. Still there was no sign of anybody around. I had just two hours to get back to the publishing house for my follow-up with Biahn.I knew that I’d be late, so I tried to jog. Obviously that didn’t last long. I was just slowing down when I tripped on a branch and did a face-plant. I wiped damp twigs and dirt from my body, then my eyes caught the faintest imprint in the ground. The footprint was smaller than mine. I would have missed it entirely if I hadn’t fallen. The print had to have been made this morning. It was so light that, if there'd been no rain earlier, the footprint wouldn’t have even been noticeable.I wanted to ditch my meeting with Biahn and track down the boy who’d made it, but I was late already. At least I had a good idea where to start looking tomorrow. I had to consider that it might take me another three days just to track them down. So I made a mark on my map, then continued on until I exited the woods.I found my way to Biahn’s office around three in the afternoon. He was just working on touching up an article when I burst through his door.Click here to read Chapter 24Copyright 2017: While I encourage you to share this link with your friends and family, please keep in mind that this is copyrighted material. Under no circumstances do you have the right to re-publish any or part of this content without specific written permission from BC Crow and Blue House Publishing.

Swing Low: Chapter 22 and Postponing Final Release

Artistic delays

When I first started pre-releasing this book for all to read and or comment on, I planned on releasing the public version in April. Over the last few weeks I've been questioning that decision.

So when will it be available?

I've decided that as soon as I finish this pre-release, I'm going to give everyone enough time to finish reading this online and give their comments. I also want to use this time to shelve the book so that I can approach it one last time with a fresh mind. I think I can make the book a lot better on final release if I do this.

If you were expecting a free digital copy of this book at the end of this series, never fear, you'll still get it. I'm just going to wait until this fall to send it out.

So, sorry if you've been anticipating the April release, but by moving it to this fall, it will definitely be a much better book. Thanks you.

If you're new to this, start atThe Beginning. And thanks for sharing my stories with all your friends.
Installment #23 of:Sing Low: The Hangman of the WoodsBy B.C. Crow (Chapter 22Never trust your own opinion completely, it’s far too biased. You are the sum of your experiences. You are not the complete sum of your neighbors’ experiences. Finding wisdom is finding that you're not the smartest person around. This requires that you don’t just admit your inadequacy, but that you believe it. I made a move against my better judgment, and it caused me to find exactly what I was looking for. It just goes to show that we are all imperfect. Sometimes we must stand back from ourselves in order to move forward.The woods were no different on this trip than any other. The sun was still blazing hot, but not enough to dry the sticky humidity. There wasn’t a cloud in sight, but that meant very little. Some of the biggest storms I’d encountered had had no clouds the day before. I could easily find myself in bad weather again on this trip.While I didn’t expect to find the hangman’s new den, I methodically plotted my course through the lower half of the woods. I placed my compass on the crude Northern arrow I'd drawn on my aerial photo of the woods. A quick turn of the map got me pointing north. Then I turned the compass to point in my desired direction and adjusted the plastic dial. This was getting easier all the time.While the low-resolution aerial only showed the largest of the lakes and ponds through the dense trees, I was confident that I could cover enough ground between bodies of water to check off the entire area as I searched.My payments for classes were due on Friday, and Krystal told me that she wanted to see a couple of articles ready for publishing when school started. That left me with just over four days to cover the ground I wanted to search before needing to be in New Tum. It was plenty of time to search, even if the place was where I had no hope of finding Midnight.After three days of hiking, I learned two things. First was that this side of the hangman’s original camp was full of witches. I passed by two or three of their wicked huts each day. I had to be extremely careful. I knew that my developing faith in God would help me avoid the worst of their sorceries, but even witches know how to use a club, machete, or even a gun. I had no illusions as to how far my faith would protect me from something like that.The second thing I learned was that hiking around these parts of the woods was painfully tedious. The trees were thinner, allowing more undergrowth to cumber the way. The snagging shrubs were so thick that I lost a good half of my time trying to push through them. By the time I’d reached the first lake on the second day, I looked like I'd been in a fight with a band of wild city cats. This was taking far too long. I realized that I needed to push straight on through to New Tum. I’d intended on taking a meandering course that would cover more land, but my original plan would take over a week and a half in this itchy maze.Not a big deal. At least it confirmed that the hangman wouldn’t have come this way. He knew the woods better than anyone. There was no chance he’d risk all those kids falling into the hands of so many witches. Nor would he likely be able to get all the younger ones to hike through this mess.Around the middle of day four, I emerged. It only took around two hours of walking the edge of the woods before I was back in the familiar college district of New Tum. On one hand, I was relieved to be out of that nasty section of forest. On the other hand, I’d spent a great deal of time and effort looking for Midnight, only to be disappointed.For the next few months, I was in a funk. I would have to wait for summer to search the woods again. But if the hangman continued being mobile, what was there to stop him from moving again, even back to a spot I’d counted as searched? The more I thought about it, the more depressed it made me. Maybe this was some weird twist of fate. Maybe I really wasn’t supposed to marry Midnight.The March weather was particularly uncomfortable. Maybe it was just me getting used to the air-conditioned apartment. Today, though, I’d decided to wait until evening to deliver my news article to the press. The sun was almost at the horizon and already I could feel the temperature ebbing from its blistering high. In another hour, the evening air would be downright refreshing.Usually at this time of day, Krystal and my former editor would be gone. Still, somebody was always around, because the press printed in the evenings. I’d planned on going in, putting my articles on Krystal’s desk, then leaving.As I walked around to the cubicle that Krystal claimed as her office space, I stopped dead in my tracks. My breath caught and I eased a foot back. She hadn’t seen me yet, and maybe if I got out of view and made a little more noise before coming back into sight, she’d have a bit of warning to compose herself.Her head was on her desk, but before I could duck out of sight, she sniffed once, held her breath, and raised herself up. “It’s all right, Iddo. I know you’re there.” Wiping a tear from her cheek, she turned around to face me.I don’t know how she’d known it was me. All of a sudden, though, the two articles in my hand felt weird. What’s wrong? Is there anything I can help with? Lay it all on Uncle Iddo. These might have been the right things to say. Instead, like usual, I just muttered the wrong thing. “I just came by to drop these off.”She took them and pretended to glance at them before placing them on her desk. “Thanks,” was all she could say.“Yeah, anyhow, I’ll go now.” I turned around, took a step, then stopped. One heavy breath, then another. Fine. When I turned back to face her, she had a sort of pleading look in her wet-rimmed eyes.I didn’t even say anything before a drip of the salty fluid broke the dam. No sooner had that first trickle leaked out, her eyes and nose spouted. Each breath came in four or five inhaled gasps for every short exhale. I should have kept going. I didn’t know what to do.Apparently, I didn’t have to do anything. In classic Krystal fashion, she stole the whole show. I hardly had time to find a chair nearby before she expounded in a torrent of emotional baggage. And I thought I had problems.Mostly I just listened. Sure, like any guy, I might have had an idea or two that I wouldn’t mind pitching, but Krystal was too quick to let me have any real say. She jumped around from her daddy issues to growing up here, where everyone looked at her differently. She talked about dreams, fears, regrets. She even spoke wantonly of career and disappointment in love.I must have listened for a good half hour before I suggested we go for a walk. I don’t know if I was hoping that she’d settle down a little if she got some fresh air, or if I would settle down. In either case I was getting mighty uncomfortable just sitting there. She agreed.Not long after we’d been walking, I found that we were on a path that skirted the edge of the woods. The sun was down, but the sky hadn’t darkened enough to show any stars. My eyes looked longingly at the woods, wishing that I could see through them to where Midnight might be getting ready for the evening. But even if she were close to the edge of the woods, I didn’tthink she’d be around here. I was walking in a southeasterly direction, the direction that I doubted the hangman would have taken his troop.I’d lost focus only for a minute on what Krystal had been saying, but suddenly found her arms wrapped around my elbow. She was taller than me by a good head and a half. I was sure she weighed more than me, though I don't know why that would matter, other than she seemed to be leaning into me. Luckily I felt little pressure as we walked.Certainly, I’d never entertained any ideas about a romantic relationship between us. But having her lean on me felt satisfying. I couldn’t pull myself away. She fit with me, not like two peas in a pod, but more like a large shoe on a padded sock. Obviously, she couldn’t be attracted to me. Neither was I attracted to her, pretty as she might be. Clearly she just needed a friend to talk to tonight. I could do that. Still, oddly enough, I had to keep reminding myself that I wanted to be with Midnight.We walked for what must have been a solid hour before we turned around to head back. We were just about to find a lower road, since the woods are no place to be near in the evening. Not if you can help it. Especially, as I knew, not on this stretch where there were so many witches. But as we gradually wandered away from the trees, we saw some lights coming out of them. It was a group of men, perhaps ten strong. No, make that eleven. While most of them were carrying ropes, clubs, machetes, or even the occasional gun, the eleventh man trailing several meters behind, struggling to keep up, just carried a notepad. I recognized him. He was one of our senior reporters. If I remembered right, his name was Biahn.Seeing this group unsettled me a little. But Krystal and I kept going on. If Biahn was chasing down a story, we had no place interfering. The nice thing, though, was that their appearance gave us something else to talk about. Krystal’s mood cheered like a rare blossoming moonflower. I remembered the one I’d seen before in the woods and how it had inspired a sense of peace in me, even then its blossom hadn’t been open. I’d only seen one whose flower was fully opened before. It had been in a neighbor’s garden when I was young. So delicate and pale. Moonflowers had a fragile beauty that could melt the hardest of stone, while threatening to wilt at the slightest touch.I looked at Krystal's beautiful pale face. I was glad that her spirits were lifting. At the same time, I knew she could wither and fall to pieces if I wasn’t careful.When it was finally time to part company, we stood awkwardly for a minute. Krystal then leaned over and gave me a lingering kiss on the cheek. I froze in place. We looked at each other for another second. She must have misinterpreted me, because she leaned in and gave me a warm and gentle kiss on the lips.Finally, I withdrew and blushed. She smiled. Then with a wave good-bye that had a few too many fingers rippling for my comfort, she left. Before her eyes parted from mine, she seemed to wink without even fluttering an eyelid. Inwardly the two halves of my brain matter ground at each other.I would not sleep well tonight as I tried to sort out what she was trying to kindle. What I had just allowed to happen. “Women,” I half cursed once I was out of earshot. What had I just done? Was this, me, giving up on Midnight?Click here to read Chapter 23Copyright 2017: While I encourage you to share this link with your friends and family, please keep in mind that this is copyrighted material. Under no circumstances do you have the right to re-publish any or part of this content without specific written permission from BC Crow and Blue House Publishing.

Swing Low: Chapter 21 and Beta Readers

Would you like to be a Beta Reader?

I've been thinking. I'd like to have a small group of Beta Readers.

What is a Beta Reader?

It's a person who reads your book, much like you're reading this. They give honest feedback about your book and where they felt it was weak.

I often have family read my books while I'm editing them, but too often they just tell me it's great.

If you, your reading club, or anyone you know might be interested, please email me. I'd love to hear from you. I want to be the best storyteller I can be. But no matter how hard I try, I still have blind spots.

If you're new to this, start atThe Beginning. And thanks for sharing my stories with all your friends.
Installment #22 of:Sing Low: The Hangman of the WoodsBy B.C. Crow (Chapter 21There is the world in whole and then there’s the smaller world in which we live. The little overlap we find between the two may seem small, but it’s larger that we know. Sometimes we think we’re helplessly bound to our own sphere and can’t imagine reaching out to the larger realm. In those times, all we can do is focus on our own place as best we know how. The truth is that our little world greatly overlaps many other people’s little realities. As we influence all of them, we exert a greater influence over the grand world in a way we may never realize or even think possible.December 27 was a Saturday. My mother left for work and I too went in search of any odd job for the day. I ended up cleaning gutters at the local market. That was a job I hope never to do again. I don’t know when the last time those narrow concrete foot traps had been cleaned, but they seemed to have more than just debris flowing through them. They smelled of sewage and pig guts. There was close to a half kilometer of the zigzagging trench snaking through the grounds of the market. All of it contained at least three centimeters of sludge. In some spots the crud dammed the system and water spilled over the top of the drainage trench.I made an honest day’s wage. By honest, I mean that if you had no other work, and your employer knew you were desperate, they could pay you the bare minimum required to keep you working for a day. Another day of this and I could donate the money to my mother for bus fare to New Tum. The only problem, as far as I could see, was that I wouldn’t be around long enough to work that much. I had a bit of money saved up from my normal job, but that was dedicated to paying for my next semester of school and rent. I wondered if anyone we knew could loan us the money to get my mother to New Tum. She was tough, but I was pretty sure she couldn't handle an extended hike through the woods.I got home about the same time as my mother. She was going to make dinner for us, but I insisted that she rest and I prepare the meal. My body ached from the manual labor, but I could only imagine how worn down she must have felt. In the back of my mind, I wondered if my hands still smelled of guts and rot. If they did, they better not infect dinner with their unique flavor.“If I can find a place to rent over by my school, do you have enough saved up to get a bus ticket to New Tum District?”My mother’s drooping head shot up. “Why would you want me to come live with you?”“You’ve hidden it pretty well, but even I can see that you’re not doing well.” I hated being so blunt with her, but I didn’t know how else to broach the topic.“Iddo, I have a good job here. My boss understands my situation. There’s no way I’d be able to find work again.”“Maybe it’s your work that’s running you down. I’ll find a way to support both of us. If you had a chance to rest, you might get over whatever is bothering you. Plus, there's a lot of doctors at the college. Maybe-”“No. I can’t do that. You have too much going on. I’m fine, really I am. I may have my moments, but I’m doing okay. Besides, there’s no way you can support both of us, go to school, and eventually support your bride. While you’re at school, focus and work hard. I’m not going anywhere. Just, when you find Midnight, bring her here so I can attend your marriage. Besides, Iddo”—she smiled in amusement—“you can’t even take care of dinner without burning the beans.”I raised an eyebrow, wondering what she meant by that. The acrid smoke woke my nose. Looking down, I realized I’d been so wrapped up in my concern that I was burning our dinner. I quickly stirred the food, trying to salvage the meal. Luckily I hadn’t completely ruined it, but it would be a little more charred than either of us preferred.My mother laughed heartily. I couldn’t help but laugh, too, until a coughing spell quieted her. My eyes bored into her while I pulled the pan away from the heat.“Don’t give me that look, Iddo. You can’t afford to take care of us and go to school.”“Then I’ll quit school and stay here to help you.” For a second, I considered threatening her with her ladle. But I left it alone.Her eyes sharpened and her face hardened. “No! We have all sacrificed too much to get you where you are now.”I wanted to argue that currently I was here at home, but I held my tongue. Maybe I really should give her a whack on the head with that ladle.“You are going to become a doctor, Iddo. You’ve always had a bigger heart than you’ve had brains to hold. Don’t let that heart talk you out of the right choice for you. You have a good future ahead of you, but you have to stick to it. Stay in school. If this Midnight really is good enough to deserve you, then find and marry her. I’ve had a good life. I found a man I was able to share it with. He was a hard man, but a good man. I loved your father. Together we raised you. I am so proud of you. You are better than either of us ever was. What more could I ask from my own son?”How could I respond to that? “But if I can make it all work out, would you come?”She thought hard for a long moment. I almost thought she’d concede. “No, Iddo. I wouldn’t. My life if here. Yours is over there. I have family and neighbors who can help me if I need it. Really, don’t worry about me.”That night I lay awake, searching for a fix to all our problems. My mother, once so meek, had turned into a stubborn woman. I couldn’t just leave her alone. She truly did need help. I decided to consult with her brother—my uncle.Sunday morning, I fried an egg to put over rice for breakfast and left it for my mother. She would sleep later today. Sunday for her was not a day of worship. Sure, she spent an hour or two on her knees. But unless worship is kneeling by a tub of water, scrubbing clothes, she had an empty day ahead of her. For a sick woman who worked six long days each week, she needed her one true day of rest.I walked the two kilometers to my uncle’s home. He was married to a cranky lady. I doubt my aunt had always been such a shrew. Someone as good natured as Uncle Kim wouldn’t have chosen his wife if she'd been such a nag when they’d first met. Though I rarely saw him, especially now that I was going to school so far away, I always felt welcome around Kim, even if his wife tempered that welcome. They never had a kid, and while they seemed content with that, I think Uncle Kim always wished he had.Being Sunday, Kim and his wife were home when I showed up.“It’s Soportevy’s son,” my aunt called over to Kim, a hint of irritation peppering her abnormally low voice. I don’t think she was upset, but she was so used to being ornery, the tone had become a permanent landmark of her personality.Kim appeared more quickly than I expected. His wife’s bellow apparently wasn’t meant to call him from a distance. I think that if divorces were more common around here, she'd be a lonely woman.“Iddo! Welcome. It’s nice to see you. How's your schooling?”“It’s hard work, but I really like it.”“You’ll be a great doctor someday, I know it. So what brings you here? I haven’t seen you for a long time.”“It’s my mother.”Kim’s wife snorted and mumbled something under her breath. Kim ignored her, his smile never wavering.“I’m just worried about her. I wanted to see if you could give me some advice.”He put an arm around me and we stepped outside. A cheap wooden bench was fixed in front of his home, and we settled onto it. The hot morning sun was slightly tempered by the shade of a large tree and a cooler breeze. I felt relaxed as I explained my mother’s condition.“You’re right to worry,” Kim said after solemn hesitation. He was thinking. “I don’t think I can tell you what to do, but I can offer you a little advice. If you quit your schooling now, not only will your mother still be sick, but she’ll also have a broken heart. You’d never get back to school, either. You should see how proudly she boasts of you when you’re not here.”“Boasts? Of me?”“You're being a man, Iddo. You have an honorable dream and you’re working hard to realize it. Your father may not've liked the choice, but your mother couldn’t be more pleased. If you throw that away because of her, how do you think she’ll feel?”I thought long and hard. “But her health. What if I go back to school, and she doesn’t live long enough for me to see her again?” I choked up a little at this question. Thinking it was one thing, admitting it out loud was much more difficult.“I think she’ll be fine. She has good months and bad ones. She’s probably just doing poorly this month, but next month, she’ll be feeling much better.”I wasn’t so sure. My face must have said as much.“Listen, Iddo, even if she doesn’t make it, which I’m sure won’t happen, do you want her unhappy?”“Maybe, if it’s better than being lonely.”“You really think she’s that bad off?”I shrugged. I didn’t know. The thought threatened to break me down into sobs.My aunt, who’d been listening from the doorway, stalked up to me. With a loud harrumph, she planted her fists on her ample hips. “You listen here, boy. Whatever happens to your mother, I guarantee, she won’t be alone.”My reddened eyes looked up to her in surprise.“You do your part by going to school. It will lift her spirits to know you’re where you ought to be. We’ll visit her weekly, won’t we, Kim.”Kim just smiled and nodded his head. I wasn’t sure, but for a second I almost got a feel for how my aunt and uncle’s odd relationship worked. He was the face, and she was the driving force. But that didn’t really matter. “Would you really do that?”“Iddo, when my wife sets her mind to something, don’t ever second-guess her.”I studied her face for a moment and almost saw the tinge of a smile. She stifled it before it could show. No doubt she had to keep up appearances. She would visit my mother weekly. I could tell that she would likely visit daily, except when it was truly inconvenient.They gave me more reassurances that all would be well, then changed the subject to school, work, and girls. I elaborated plenty on school and work and my roommates. I kept vague, though, when they pressed me about girls. They didn’t need to know about Midnight. However, I did tell them about the girl Duy had set me up with. My aunt’s scowl deepened, my uncle laughed. It was still a painful memory, but gradually I, too, found the humor in it. It’s funny how time can let you laugh.I stayed long enough that they fed me lunch. After eating, I went home. School would start up next week. If I was to go, I needed to leave tomorrow. I made up my mind to spend an extra day or two searching the southeast side of the woods. I still believed that the hangman would've gone northwest, but I wouldn’t have time to travel and search any farther in that direction.When I arrived home, my mother was pleased to hear my decision. I don’t know if her health improved with the news, or if she faked it well, but she did seem better after I told her. I’d like to think she wasn’t just suffering a smile on my behalf.Monday morning, we shared breakfast together then said our good-byes. She seemed to be holding back as many tears as I was. I was tempted to reconsider my decision to leave because I had a sinking dread . . . the kind that hollows out your gut and tells you to soak up the moment, because you’ll never get the chance again.I swallowed my fear and walked toward the woods as my mother walked in the opposite direction. I only turned once, fearing that if I looked twice I’d see her steps waver. If that happened, there was no way I’d ever make it to the tree line again.Click here to read Chapter 21Copyright 2017: While I encourage you to share this link with your friends and family, please keep in mind that this is copyrighted material. Under no circumstances do you have the right to re-publish any or part of this content without specific written permission from BC Crow and Blue House Publishing.

Swing Low: Chapter 20

Chapter 20:

If you're new to this, start atThe Beginning. And thanks for sharing my stories with all your friends.
Installment #21 of:Sing Low: The Hangman of the WoodsBy B.C. Crow (Chapter 20When your life does unravel and nothing fits the way you would have it, will you keep your perspective? Maybe you don’t think you have goals. You do. We all do. We may not write them down at the start of each new year, but we have them. Then, when life gives us the choice to act on them, we promptly, almost unfailingly, abandon them all. Later, when we realize that things aren’t what we’d have hoped for, we remake our goals, or devise entirely different desires that fit the world we’re living in. Then we abandon those new goals and expectations all over again. It’s like nobody is satisfied by making a difference. Few are the people who decide to make a real difference then actually do something about it.The next morning, I woke up alone. It was a Saturday morning and Duy never did come back from his night of partying. Jhon and Charles were sleeping. They tended to sleep almost till noon whenever they could get away with it. Thing Two wasn’t here, and, oddly enough, neither was Thing One.Maybe that wasn’t so odd. Thing One had become unpredictable lately. He would disappear for days at a time, only to return and lock himself in his room to catch up on missed schoolwork. He blamed his absence on his work, but even I knew that the New Tum Police Department didn’t keep those kinds of schedules. Thing One wasn’t even an official police officer. He was just one of many social workers who dealt with the logistics of moving troubled youth from one home to another. I don’t think he ever made any of the trips himself. He just coordinated the activities.Not my problem, though. What he did with his time was his choice. For that matter, same went for Duy and Thing Two. Duy was the one who’d put me in that awkward position last night. Well, sort of. Where had all my courage gone? During the summer, I could have done anything. Maybe my mother's ladle had whacked some sense out of me. Anyhow, if Thing Two was so concerned about Duy’s immortal soul, then why was he trying to get me to do all the heavy lifting? All I could manage to shoulder was a giant yoke of embracement. Both Duy and Thing Two thought it was hilarious.If I was to be honest, I did care about Duy forsaking his God. I was finally coming around to the opinion that Believers might be onto something. The faithful ones took their devotion of God to a higher level than most religions I knew of. I was only just beginning to realize the importance of faith in my own life. It was something that I’d experienced firsthand over the summer. It was something I was about to experience on a completely different level over the next couple months.Despite my concern for Duy, he was a free agent, and probably understood God better than I did. What choices he made, he made purposefully, in contradiction to his own knowledge. I’m sure the black-and-white lines he was toying with were somehow gray in his head. Still, he was the one smudging those lines.I cleared my mind of him and tried to think past Lien and her mocking seductions last night. I pulled out my notepad to write about the dance party. I had a hard time finishing. I kept wondering why I'd allowed myself to get sucked into that degrading situation. It felt wrong from the beginning.Was I slipping? I put down my pen and closed my eyes. My zeal from the summer had diminished some. I wasn't pursuing truth to the degree that I'd wanted, so the light was leaving me. This caused a shiver, and I told myself that during the next month or two, I needed to start focusing on finding the truth about God, if the truth could be found.When I put down my pen for the second time, my article was finished. In actuality, the story was more about last year’s party. I’d attended that one, also. Both were basically the same. The only difference was that for this one I couldn’t focus on anything aside from my humiliation.Maybe now that I was finished with my article, I could move beyond that night. Of course, I’d need to proofread it before turning it over to Krystal for publication. I wondered if she would marvel at my ability to surmise the party after having needed rescuing by her.Oh well. Let her think what she would.Just then the front door burst open. Duy came in laughing with Thing Two. They seemed in good spirits until Thing Two locked eyes with me. Duy continued to the bathroom, but Thing Two walked up to me. He looked down and saw my draft of the news article. He ripped it from my notepad, crumpled it up, and threw it across the room.“What was that for?” I protested.“You ditched us last night. I needed you there to help me keep Duy out of trouble. Do you want to know where he spent the whole evening?”“I’m guessing it was at the same place you did,” I ventured.Thing Two slapped me across the face. I fell backward off my chair. My butt landed hard on the floor, but I hardly registered the pain. Thing Two had never been violent with me before. Belligerent, yes, but not violent. I didn’t know how to respond. I sat on the floor looking up at him. He looked as if he wanted to kick me. Then he stormed into his room, slamming the door behind him.My skin tingled with hot anxiety. The slap to my face was nothing compared to the slap to my dignity. Shaking, I stood, walked over to the wall, and picked up my crumpled notepaper. My heart thumped in my chest and my breathing came in gasps. Why did Thing Two assume that I was the only one responsible for Duy’s transgressions? I went back to my room, sat on my bed, and hoped I wouldn’t see Thing Two for the rest of the year.Duy came in. His hair dripped with water and his eyes were ringed in dark circles. He looked over at me as he pulled on some fresh clothes. “You okay, Iddo?”“Yeah, I’m fine,” I muttered.“Look, sorry about last night. I didn’t mean for Lien to be so—well, you know.”Thanks for being a real pal and bailing me out! I wanted to accuse. “No big deal,” I said instead. “It seems that Thing Two didn’t have a much better night, either.”“What are you talking about? We had a crazy-awesome night. We went back to—”“Stop.” I raised my hand. “I really don’t want to hear about it.”“Riiight. I know you’ve got your reservations about Believers. But sometimes I think you’re closer than me to that lifestyle.”“Do you actually believe everything they tell you?”Duy studied me for a moment. Or was he studying himself? “Yeah, I suppose so.”“If you consider yourself a Believer, then why last night? Doesn’t that kind of lifestyle conflict with how Believers are supposed to act?”Duy shrugged. “Why are you asking me that?”Because I'm curious and want to know more, but I don't know if I can even ask you about that way of life anymore. “I’m just a little concerned for you is all.” Maybe that was the wrong thing to say. Why couldn't I ever just say what I really meant? I hoped he wouldn't give me one of those who-are-you-to-judge-me sort of reactions. Luckily that didn’t happen.“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I haven’t stopped believing. I just—just don’t you worry about me.”I shrugged. I could almost sense his guilt, like he was more worried about me associating his actions with Believers than with himself. But he was trying hard to suppress it. The more he grayed the black-and-white lines of his moral conviction, the more easily he could get away with living loud and reckless. He knew what he was doing.As it turned out, over the next couple months, Duy fell more and more away from the Believers’ way of life. He still claimed to be a Believer, but nobody believed him anymore.The semester break finally arrived. Those who celebrated Christmas went to their homes for the holiday. After sending a card home to my mother, explaining a possible delay, I packed a bag and went into the woods. All previous attempts I’d made before had ended in disappointment.Granted, I didn’t have much time to search the woods on the few weekends that I’d been able to break away. I’d get into the woods, search for a day, then come back exhausted, just in time to sleep off the hike before school the next day. Now I had two full weeks to search for Midnight.I was more prepared for an extended stay in the woods than at any other time before. Not that I packed a lot of extra food. The hangman’s orphans had taught me how to forage. Mostly what I brought was a good knife and a light pot with a lighter to start cook fires with. I’d have no problem as long as I could stay away from the dark cottages that I now knew speckled the deep woods. I had no desire to spend another stint with a witch.I printed an aerial photo of the woods and used it to find the prominent lakes that pocketed the region. The hangman’s last big camp had been by a lake. It stood to reason that he’d search out another such location. Large ponds or small lakes could often be relied on to supply fish. Not only were they a good source of protein, but the small streams or springs that fed them were good for drinking water.I could either hike to the northwest of the hangman’s last camp, or I could go to the southeast. The woods stretched on much farther to the northwest, over two hundred kilometers, and contained more little lakes that would work well for another camp. To the southwest, the trees and brambles got thicker and were harder to travel through. After about a hundred kilometers, they met a rough and rocky seashore. Considerably fewer lakes and ponds populated the terrain in that direction.Since the northwest appeared to be the most likely spot for moving a large group to, I decided to focus my search in that direction. I started by hiking to their last camp, which became my first camp for this trip. In the morning, I took out a cheap compass and set my course toward the next closest lake—or, rather, pond.That day I hiked several kilometers, visited two lakes, and skirted around one suspicious cottage. That home might not have belonged to a witch, but who else would live out here? I didn’t care to chance it. Day two was much like day one, except I found no sign of people, and I got lost for half a day before finding the pond I was hiking to.On the third day, I rolled my ankle while crossing over a fallen log. Nothing beats hiking alone through a vast jungle with a crippled ankle. Nothing that is, except for just about anything else. It hurt, really bad. Each step felt like a spiked spring expanding in my joint.I struggled onward, limping heavily for the first hour, but the more I walked on it, the less it pained me. Of course, continuing to walk on it was extremely stupid, but I pressed on until I reached my next pond.The next morning when I woke up, my foot looked like I'd filled it with compressed air. It was swollen like a latex balloon and I couldn’t even put my shoe on over it. I had to soak the bloated thing in cool water before it was small enough to fit back in. Since I wasn’t going anywhere fast, I used that soaking time to bathe in the pond I'd camped by that night. I'd neglected bathing to this point, and I sorely needed it. Every time I moved, a whiff of pungent air billowed from my shirt to my face.Late that morning, I debated hiking some more, or catching fish and letting my ankle rest for a few more hours. I chose to stay put. I was also a little depressed. I’d hoped that I would’ve found some sign of them by now. Afternoon came, but I decided to stay in place. I slept one more night. There wasn’t even any fish. I was reduced to eating stale bread and whatever roots I could claw out of the dirt.The next morning, I set out again. It was a Friday and I covered three more small lakes, none producing any results. My discouragement deepened. According to the printout I’d made, I still had over a hundred and fifty kilometers of zigzagging to go before I exhausted this side of the forest. It would take months, and I wasn’t even sure that I’d chosen the right direction to search for them.Late Sunday afternoon I exited the woods on the west side. I was tired and frustrated. Part of me wanted to continue searching. But I had spent a whole week without seeing any clue as to where they were. I caught a bus and rode it for two and a half hours as it slowly made its way to my hometown.I arrived at my mother’s house late that night. My mother was still awake, and very happy to see me. It was Christmas Eve. We didn’t celebrate the holiday in the same way that an American or Christian might. For us it was mostly just a time to spend with family.“I wasn’t sure you’d make it here.”“Well, I spent a little extra time hiking through the woods. Did you get my letter?”“Yes, but it didn't really explain why you'd be late. Why spend any more time in the woods than you'd have to? Is everything okay?”“I’m fine,” I began. Then, whether due to exhaustion or just needing to talk, I told her all about the hangman and the orphans he’d adopted. I even told her about Midnight and my commitment to her. Explaining this all felt incredible, like shrugging a bag full of heavy rocks. Of course, I still left out the part about the witch. Mother didn't need to know everything.I don’t know exactly what my mother thought of it all. If I were to guess by her stiff posture and tight-lipped expression, she disapproved. She continued to listen quietly, keeping her own thoughts to herself. I figured she'd have some reservations, it would be hard not to. The whole time we talked, I kept a wary eye out for her kitchen ladle. Eventually it became clear that she wasn’t going to scold me for making a foolish promise to a strange jungle girl. At least if she was, she was going to use sugar instead of a rod to change my mind. But even hints of doubt were scarce. She really seemed like she was trying to accept my decisions.Christmas Day started nicely. A faint smell of cinnamon from the neighbors drifted on the morning air. Childhood memories flooded back to me. Like so many times before, I longed for my father to be back with us. I imagined that if he hadn't died, that somehow Mother would have convinced him to let me change schools.I took in a deep breath, savoring the best memories and ignoring the unpleasant. I'd always loved these kind of mornings."Well?" My mother asked.She'd started mining me for every little detail before even kindling a fire on the stove. She wanted to know all about Midnight. If she was upset, which I think she might have been, she hid those feelings well. I think she was trying to convince herself that I was smart enough to be making a good decision. Her way of doing so was to learn as much about it as possible. She hung on every word as if my tale was fascinating. In a way, I felt a little awkward with the degree of attention that she focused on my story. I'd already told her much of this last night, but she wanted it all again, and in as deep of detail as possible.The more I told her, the more she wanted to hear. Neither of us worked that day. We just stayed at home or went on small walks. Mostly we talked. Eventually, she would exchange a story about her younger life for stories of my new life. In the space of only a year and a half, our relationship had completely changed. She was still my mother, but we were also like two adult friends. I learned stories from her that I couldn’t imagine her doing. They weren’t bad, it was just that she’d hadn’t told me much about her life before she married my father. The whole day was fascinating in a way I’d never anticipated.The next day she had to go into work. Her situation upset me a little because of her health. A year and a half ago, she had a cough. Over the summer she’d masked it well enough, but I could tell that she was weak. Now it took all her energy just to hide her poor health from me.As I watched her walk off to work, she carried herself as well as she could until she thought I might not be watching anymore. She was several hundred meters away, almost far enough to be obscured, when I saw her nearly collapse. She caught herself against the side of a building and paused for a minute. Standing straight again, she sneaked a glance back at me, to see if I’d noticed her lapse.I pretended to have my attention elsewhere. I could almost feel her relief at not letting me see her infirmity. She continued on. I wanted to rush out to her and bring her back. She needed caring for. Tears came to my eyes as I thought of my own selfishness. I hadn’t once considered my own mother’s needs. For my whole life, she’d taken care of me. I loved her with all my heart and she was slipping away. I couldn’t think of what to do.My mind raced through every diagnosis that a second-year medical student might know. The top contenders were tuberculosis or cancer. Neither were good. Then a thought entered my mind that scared me even more. What if she was being so good about my decision to marry Midnight because she knew she wouldn’t be around much longer to see me happily married otherwise? Is that why she'd asked to see Midnight if I could find her before my classes started up again?I couldn’t think about my mother dying. I resolved that I needed to find a way to take care of her and Midnight together. But how could I do both and still go to school? I sat down, staring into the distance. Even if I could find a way to take care of all of us, how would I bring my mother to New Tum District? She wouldn’t survive the hike. I couldn’t afford to bus her around the woods. Even if I did scrape the money together, she wouldn't allow me to use my college money for it.The only other option was to quit school and come back home to be with her. But we couldn’t afford a doctor, and if I didn’t finish my schooling, how could I even hope to take care of her? Being a doctor might not make me much money, but I would gain the skills to help her. Unfortunately, I was convinced that by then, it would be too late.Click here to read Chapter 21Copyright 2017: While I encourage you to share this link with your friends and family, please keep in mind that this is copyrighted material. Under no circumstances do you have the right to re-publish any or part of this content without specific written permission from BC Crow and Blue House Publishing.

Swing Low: Chapter 19

Chapter 19:

We're over halfway through this book now. The book will not be published at the first part of April like we planned. I'm just a little swamped. But I'm still moving along. I'll get this finished soon.

If you're new to this, start atThe Beginning. And thanks for sharing my stories with all your friends.
Installment #20 of:Sing Low: The Hangman of the WoodsBy B.C. Crow (Chapter 19Good times often breed complacency. We relish these breaks from turmoils we’ve lived through and squalls that are sure to come. But all too often, we nap in the glory of our ease. Then when we're in trouble, we can't see beyond our misery. In truth, looking beyond ourselves is impossible at any time unless we consciously make the effort today, regardless of where life has placed us.“Hey Iddo.” Krystal punched me in the arm as I entered to turn in my latest two articles. Yeah, she was just being friendly, but she still packed a punch meant for a tough guy, not me.I rubbed my bicep. “As always, it’s nice to see you, too.” Why was she wearing such a conniving smirk?I soon found out.I could always e-mail my articles rather than delivering them in person. But I couldn’t pick up my pay via e-mail. So, I hand delivered most of my stories. Besides, I’d found that I had better commission leverage if I stopped by in person. For some reason my boss always felt it easier to cheapen my articles if he was communicating across the Internet. As I stepped into my boss’s office, he took my articles. After one quick glance, barely enough to read the title, he handed them back to me.I eyed him suspiciously, sensing he had something else on his mind today. “Iddo, I’ve been thinking. I’ve got this really good intern who needs a little more responsibility.” He waved a hand toward the door. “Have you met Krystal yet? She’s been with us for about a month.”I shook my head. I guess I should have nodded to his question, but my mind kept saying, Oh no!Krystal strolled in with a professional smile on her face. She always looked good. Today she looked like an elite businesswoman. Her doll-like face seemed more mature. Her normally self-absorbed air was replaced by a confident stature. Even her fruity lotions had been replaced by a subtle perfume. Had I not known her before, I might have found her attractive.“You could say that we’ve met,” I ventured carefully. I didn’t want to insinuate that we’d grown up together, just in case he knew about Krystal’s pompous layer beneath this radiant facade. I didn’t want him to associate her character flaws with me. The last thing I needed was to be stained by association.“Good, because you two are going to be working closely together from here on out.” My jaw dropped. I snapped my mouth shut, hoping he hadn’t noticed. Could he hear my teeth clicking together as audibly as I could?From his swivel chair, he raised an eyebrow. A mischievous smirk touched the edge of his lip. I couldn’t believe it. He was amused. Not by partnering me with this girl I’d grown to like and loathe at the same time. No, he was delighted to see how a fat nobody like me would react to being paired with such an attractive American girl.I had to admit to myself that if I hadn’t grown up around her, I might have been a gushy pile of boiled cabbage in this situation. But as it was, I was easily able to regain my composure.Somewhat disappointed in my reaction, he continued. “Krystal is going to be editing all your articles from now on. Don’t think you can slacken your quality, you hear me? She’s a bright one, and she’ll catch you on it.”I had no doubt about that. If there was one thing I remembered clearly, it was Krystal’s undeviating ambition to further her own self-interest. “Thank you,” I said, only because I didn’t know what else to say. I turned and handed her my articles. “One is about the upcoming school pride dance. The other is a biographical interview with the dean of the medical school.”She took my papers and gave me a wink that only I could see.I gave my best congenial smile back. She waited until I left the room before discussing something more with my boss. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad reporting to Krystal. I was still employed, but no longer under the constant scrutiny of the chief editor. I imagined the move was in part to give Krystal the experience she needed, but I like to think I was chosen because he’d come to trust my work enough that he didn’t need to personally keep tabs on me the whole time.It could also have something to do with the fact that campus news wasn’t as big a part of the publication as some of his other sections. Most of those sections dealt with the world outside this community and many articles couldn’t have been written by any of our reporters.Still, for many people, especially students, the college section was the most read part. Not a big deal. As long as I could keep my job for two more years, I’d be able to get a paid internship in a hospital while I started my fifth year of school.I had it all planned out. Money would be tight, but in the past week I’d been visiting different apartments. If I budgeted very carefully, and submitted a third article occasionally for the news, I could afford my own apartment with Midnight. It could work. I would make it work. After all, I was used to being poor and knew how to get by on very little.Midnight was used to getting by without any money at all. Of course, this would be a different environment for her. But I felt confident that she could adjust.October was nearing an end. Duy found me at our deeply gouged writing desk, also known as our kitchen table and occasionally as a downhill grass sled. When you’re strapped for cash, fun can come in many shapes.“Put your pencil down, Iddo! It’s time to par-tay.”I sighed. “Do I really have to? Can’t I just go by myself? I’m a much better reporter when I’m alone and able to focus on observing.” That wasn’t the real reason I preferred to go by myself. When Duy had returned from his family, he’d gotten some of that Believer zeal back into his life. But it was already eroding again. I didn’t trust his judgment in friends right now.“You’re not getting out of a good time that easily. Plus, you work too much.”"Oh-kay." If I had to go anyway, maybe it would be better to go with people I knew.I stood and followed him out the door. Thing Two was already waiting for us outside. We took an energetic walk about a kilometer down the road before detouring into another apartment block. These were high-ticket apartments, the type that Jhon and Charles would have been more apt to attend; that is, they would if this wasn’t also considered the party block. Duy and Thing Two rushed into the second building on the right. I trailed a little less enthusiastically.“Come on, Iddo, don’t be such a stiff,” Duy chided. “Thing Two said you’d be a lot of fun tonight.”Thing Two? Why would he want me here? The guy was just as incorrigible as Duy, if not a little crankier. While Duy knocked on the girls’ apartment door, Thing Two fell back to talk to me.“Yeah, I told him I wanted you here. Duy is a good guy, you know that. But I need help tonight keeping him out of trouble. I’m worried about the company he’s found to take to the dance. Girls and drugs. You know. All the stuff that trips up a good Believer. He respects you, you know?”I stared at Thing Two for a moment. “Since when do you care about Duy forsaking his beliefs?”He gave me a hurt look. “What are you suggesting, that I like his new lifestyle? I run with this crowd so I can keep a good eye on Duy. I don’t want to see him trip up his life the way I’ve done.”“Okay,” I said with some trepidation. What I meant, but didn’t dare say, was that you can’t lead from behind. That’s called pushing. It’s the whole principle of you have to stand on higher ground if you’re going to raise anyone else up. But Thing Two had a temper, which I’ve been known to set off, so I kept my thoughts to myself.The girls who answered the door were gorgeous. Not just good-lookers, these were unrealistically attractive. How in the world had Duy befriended them? I don’t mean to be mean, but while Duy wasn’t necessarily unattractive, neither was he up to their standard of beauty. In total, there were five girls. Two of them already had guys hanging on their arms. One latched on to Duy and another to Thing Two. The last girl eyed me warily. She was a cat who’d just found out that she was going to be stuck with a fat forest mouse for the evening. A mischievous quirk of the lip told me that she was going to have fun toying with me before carving out my kidneys. That’s just what I needed tonight. What I really wanted was to find a way out of this.“Hi, I’m Iddo.” I extended my hand.Her grin grew wicked and she grabbed my hand, yanked me in close, and nearly sucked my tonsils out of my throat. She let go, and I staggered backward, tripped on the threshold. I came down hard on my butt.Laughter erupted all around me. Oh boy, here we go. This is going to be a very long night.She told me her name. It could have been Lien, Lainey, or even Wilber. It was hard to concentrate on introductions with the hurricane of mirth that everyone was having at my expense. I was the only one who wasn’t about to roll on the ground from laughing so hard. This coming from me, the only guy who seconds ago actually was rolling on the ground. How on earth was I going to make it through the night?I should have just walked away right then and there. I didn't fit in. I didn't want to fit in, not with this crowd at least. I could have endured Thing Two's chastisement later. I tried to tell myself that my article took precedence over my embarrassment. Even then I knew it was a stretch. I think, if I was even thinking at all, that deep down I wanted to prove my maturity. If I was going to marry in under a year, but couldn’t handle one stupid dance, how was I ever going to handle raising a family? If I'd truly been thinking, which the fog of humiliation clouded, then the true test of my confidence would have been to leave.Somehow we all found our way to the dance. My mind was drowning in a bath full of embarrassment the whole time. Time itself became an abstract. One minute I was getting a tongue hickey, the next I was her puppet at the dance, even while my mind was still stuck on the short walk to the Student Union building. It’s hard to concentrate when the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever met is dressed in skintight clubbing silks and won’t let go of your arm. I’m sure I inhaled more panicked perfume laced breaths in that ten-minute walk than in all my activities for the past decade or more.At the dance, I could feel every eye on me. This girl was attractive enough to have any man in the room. Her confidence extended beyond her need to be with an equal. Tonight, she was just having fun and I was her pathetic little toy. She wasn’t shy about it in the least. She made sure everyone saw us together. The more smiles and laughs she produced, the more of a show she made at my expense. I had to get away.“I need to go get a drink. I’ll be right back.”“You know something?” she said soothingly. “I could use something to moisten my lips, too.” She then ran a finger up my chest to my chin.I gulped and spun around, making for a quick walk to the refreshment table. She kept stride. Not a hard thing when keeping up with someone as short and round as me. Even while in hard retreat, she glided effortlessly alongside.After choking down a cup of water, I turned my face away from hers. She never took her eyes off me, unless she was accepting someone else’s humored giggles. “I need to visit the bathroom.” Really I did. I needed to visit any place, alone, that would let me catch my breath and settle down. This girl was going to give me a stroke before the night was over.She put her arms around my waist. “You’re too clever. Okay. I’ll come along with you,” she said with a seductive wink. Then she started leading me toward the bathroom.This girl was crazy. She was acting like she would follow me into the bathroom.I flashed my head from side to side, looking for any excuse to escape her. “Where’s Duy? Maybe we should join back up with them.”She feigned a hurt look. I wanted to scream. Just then a light-skinned finger tapped her shoulder. She turned around and met my saving angel. “Mind if I cut in for a dance or two?”Lien gave me the largest fake frown I’d ever seen. She was probably grateful for the break, herself. Only I knew that once she had a moment with her friends, she would come back more vicious than ever. Thankfully, though, she did release me to this new American girl.“Thank you,” I nearly cried.“Please,” Krystal said pathetically. “Do you really think I’d let that girl just keep on humiliating you like that? Why don’t you stand up for yourself? Even if you just tried to make a move or two on her, you’d probably scare her into quitting.”“Listen, I just have to get out of here.”“Okay, okay. Let’s just dance for a minute, and we’ll slowly make our way toward the exit.”Krystal was true to her word. It took about a song and a half, but we made it out of the dance hall before Lien had a chance to track me down.“Mind if I walk you home?” Krystal asked.“Just like going home from school, like we used to do,” I reminisced.She laughed. So did I. For minute, I forgot my disgrace. I was glad, for once, that Krystal could carry on such a good one-sided conversation. It took all the pressure off me. There was something else to her, also. Either I hadn’t noticed it before or maybe her personality had matured a little, but she was pleasant to be around. I even enjoyed our slow walk. We got to my place and then we just lingered outside for almost an hour. Talk was easy. We both exchanged genuine smiles.“Krystal,” I said, just as she was about to leave.Her eyes looked openly to me, inviting me to continue.“I’ve been wanting to apologize for how I treated you when we were still at school together. You always were trying to make me happy and I don’t think I ever gave you any credit for it. I think I even spurned you on more than one occasion. I’ve felt really bad for it.”She leaned over and gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek. “You’re sweet, Iddo. Stay away from trouble, okay?”“If by trouble you mean Lien, trust me, that’s the last thing I ever want to get close to.”Krystal smiled. Her eyes lingered a moment too long on mine before she walked away. I stayed outside for a few minutes till she turned out of sight. Those eyes seemed to be telling me something but didn’t want my ears to actually hear. Whatever it was, maybe we might be good friends after all.Click here to read Chapter 20Copyright 2017: While I encourage you to share this link with your friends and family, please keep in mind that this is copyrighted material. Under no circumstances do you have the right to re-publish any or part of this content without specific written permission from BC Crow and Blue House Publishing.