Days of Uncle Ernest - Chesapeake City and the World – José, Chapter 7

Days of Uncle Ernest -

Chesapeake City and the World – José, Chapter 7

“Boy, Unk,” I said, sitting in the swing next to him, “that comment about the wrong nails was a bold thing for José to say, being nailed up there in that position.”

“Right you are, Moose, but I remember it as if it were yesterday, for the guy stood there with his eyes blazing and his hammer poised. I thought he would crack José’s head open. But then José said, ‘I’m giving you this friendly advice because I was once a carpenter, and another thing, when you’re driving a nail, let the hammer do the work, don’t force it; you must have missed those nails six or seven times before you drove them home.’

“It was about this time that it happened. All hail broke loose. A thunderstorm rolled in that you wouldn’t believe. The whole sky turned black; deafening thunder rumbled and flashes of lightening distorted everything with crackling, intermittent light. I heard José cry out, looking up at the sky, ‘My God, what’s going on here?’ Then he looked down at me and said, ‘Don’t leave me, Ern; don’t leave me.’

“ ‘Hang in there José,’ I yelled, not sure he heard me over the storm. Everybody, except for me and the poor impaled guys up there, headed for shelter in the caves on the other hillside. Moose, believe me, cold chills migrated from my mid-section, up my body, and into my fingertips; this was just the chance I needed, a Godsend, to make my plan work. I had been keeping my eye on Jud, who had been up front, off to the right, with some off-duty soldiers cheering and clapping scornfully as José was being spiked in up there.

“I had moved over quietly near him, and when the soldiers bolted for cover Jud did too. So, when he went by, I tripped him and pounced on him. With a short, powerful strike to the back of his neck, I knocked him cold.”

“Hey, Unk, that’s how I kill rabbits that aren’t quite dead from the shotgun blast.”

“That’s it, Moose,” Uncle Ernest yelled, grinning to beat the band. “My blow to the neck fixed him all right. Believe me, I now know what José meant by ‘netters of men,’ because I sure had to use lots of cunning to pull off the plan. And I had to be lucky, the same as with fishing. I lugged Jud over under José’s cross, got a crowbar from a pile of tools that the soldiers had left, and climbed up the step ladder till I was face to face with José. Remember, this all took place during a raging storm, with horizontal sheets of rain pelting us up there.”

“Looking back, I don’t know how I ever did it. José sure was a sorry sight, but he looked at me and said, ‘My father told me there’d be days like this,’ and then, actually grinning at me, he said, ‘And my mother told me not to hang around with bad company.’ Moose, it took a long time and a compromising situation, but I finally got some humor out of him. And, do you know, that with a sense of humor there’s no telling what he could do; he was now a practically perfect person.

“But then he sort of broke down, and said with passion: ‘Ern, You’ve been a mess, a handful, but you’re a real Godsend, my savior for sure.’

“ ‘Now, José,’ I grunted, as I pried the nail out of his right hand, ‘that’s pushing it a bit, but to pull this off we’ll need a miracle and we’ll have to work fast. Hold tight while I free your feet and other hand.’ Once on the ground, I told him to strip off his clothes, which he was reluctant to do until he saw me stripping off Jud’s. Then he understood and we made the clothing switch.

“And don't you know, those punctures didn’t weaken him too much, because he helped me hoist Jud up on that cross, and while I held him up José hammered the nails home. José had to turn his head, though, when I messed up Jud’s face a bit with the hammer to fool the authorities. José and Jud looked a lot alike anyway—same build, same hair, same beard, and so forth—so fooling them was a snap. I helped José strap on his sandals, which was tough because his feet had swollen something awful. ‘Those are some ugly gashes,’ I said, grimacing as I examined his hands and feet.

“ ‘Just a few scratches,’ he shrugged. But, knowing better, I pulled a bottle of penicillin and a bottle of Advil from my fatigue pants and told him to take one of each every day until they were gone.

“Then we ran off to the road, with the storm still raging and José limping along comically. When I told José that he should probably leave town for good, he said that it was just as well because his work here was done anyway. He told me he planned to go into the Arab territory, change his name to Mohabie, and help them organize a new club. We said our farewells. José gave me a hug and told me that what I did was miraculous, which made me feel like a million bucks, Moose, even though I don’t believe in miracles.”   [To be continued Friday, 11/02/2012]