Tanner nodded and jumped down. He sank almost up to his boot tops when he hit, but he closed the cab and staggered toward the old man in buckskin.
They began walking across country, and after a while it became mechanical.
Samuel Potter kept up a steady line of chatter as he led the way, rifle resting in the crook of his arm. Maybe it was to keep Tanner awake.
"It's not too far, son, and it'll be pretty easy going in just a few minutes now. What'd you say your name Was, anyhow?"
"Hell," said Tanner.
"Beg pardon?"
"Hell. Hell's my name. Hell Tanner."
Sam Potter chuckled.
"That's a pretty mean name, mister. If it's okay with you, I'll introduce you to my wife and youngest as 'Mr. Tanner.' All right?"
"That's just fine," Tanner gasped, pulling his boots out of the mire with a sucking sound.
"We'd sure miss them Boston traders. I hope you make it in time."
"What do they do?"
"They keep shops in Albany, and twice a year they give a fair, spring and fall. They carry all sorts of things we need, needles, thread, pepper, kettles, pans, seed, guns and ammo, all kinds of things, and the fairs are pretty good times, too. Most anybody between here and there would help you along. Hope you make it. We'll get you off to a good start again."
They reached higher, drier ground.
"You mean it's pretty clear sailing after this?"
"Well, no. But I'll help you on the map and tell you what to look out for."
"I got mine with me," said Tanner as they topped a hill, and he saw a farmhouse off in the distance. "That your place?"
"Correct. It ain't much farther now. Real easy walkin', an' you just lean on my shoulder if you get tired."
"I can make it," said Tanner. "It's just that I had so many of those pills to keep me awake that I'm starting to feel all the sleep I've been missing. I'll be okay."
"You'll get to sleep real soon now. And when you're awake again, we'll go over that map of yours, and you can write in all the places I tell you about."
"Good scene," said Tanner, "good scene," and he put his hand on Sam's shoulder then and staggered along beside him, feeling almost drunk and wishing he were.
After a hazy eternity he saw the house before him, then the door. The door swung open, and he felt himself falling forward, and that was it.
Sleep. Blackness, distant voices, more blackness. Wherever he lay, it was soft, and he turned over onto his other side and went away again.
When everything finally flowed together into a coherent ball and he opened his eyes, there was light streaming in through the window to his right, falling in rectangles upon the patchwork quilt that covered him. He groaned, stretched, rubbed his eyes, and scratched his beard.
He surveyed the room carefully: polished wooden floors with handwoven rugs of blue and red and gray scattered about them; a dresser holding a white enamel basin with a few black spots up near its lip where some of the enamel had chipped away; a mirror on the wall behind him and above all that; a spindly-looking rocker near the window, a print cushion on its seat; a small table against the other wall with a chair pushed in beneath it; books and paper and pen and ink on the table; a handstitched sampler on the wall asking God to bless; a blueand-green print of a waterfall on the other wall.
He sat up, discovered he was naked, looked around for his clothing. It was nowhere in sight.
As he sat there, deciding whether or not to call out, the door opened and Sam walked in. He carried Tanner's clothing, clean and neatly folded, over one arm. In his other hand he carried his boots, and they shone like wet midnight.
"Heard you stirring around," he said. "How you feeling now?"
"A lot better, thanks."
"We've got a bath all drawn. Just have to dump in a couple of buckets of hot, and it's all yours. I'll have the boys carry it in in a minute, and some soap and towels."
Tanner bit his lip, but he didn't want to seem inhospitable to his benefactor, so he nodded and forced a smile then.
"That'll be fine."
"... And there's a razor and a scissors on the dresser, whichever you might want."
He nodded again. Sam set his clothes down on the rocker and his boots on the floor beside it, then left the room.
Soon Roderick and Caliban brought in the tub, spread some sacks and set it upon them.
"How you feeling?" one of them asked. (Tanner wasn't sure which was which. They both seemed graceful as scarecrows, and their mouths were packed full of white teeth.)
"Real good," he said.
"Bet you're hungry," said the other. "You slep' all afternoon yesterday, and all night, and most of this morning."
"You know it," said Tanner. "How's my partner?"
The nearer one shook his head, and, "Still sleeping and sickly," he said. "The Doc should be here soon. Our kid brother went after him last night."
They turned to leave, and the one who had been speaking added, "Soon as you get cleaned up, Ma'll fix you something to eat. Cal and me are going out now to try and get your rig loose. Dad'!! tell you about the roads while you eat."
"Thanks."
"Good morning to you."
They closed the door behind them as they left.
Tanner got up and moved to the mirror, studied himself.
"Well, just this once," he muttered.
Then he washed his face and trimmed his beard and cut his hair.
Then, gritting his teeth, he lowered himself into the tub, soaped up, and scrubbed. The water grew gray and scummy beneath the suds. He splashed out and toweled himself down and dressed.
He was starched and crinkly and smelled faintly of disinfectant. He smiled at his dark-eyed reflection and lit a cigarette. He combed his hair and studied the stranger. "Damn! I'm beautiful!" he chuckled, and then he opened the door and entered the kitchen.