Hello,
It's Gina here.
This is chapter 9 of this modernised version of Mark Twain's Tom Sawyer.
At 9.
30 that night,
Tom and Sid were sent to bed as usual.
They said their prayers and Sid soon fell asleep.
Tom lay awake and waited,
Restless and impatient.
When it seemed to him it must be nearly daylight,
He heard the clock strike ten.
That was despair.
He would have tossed and fidgeted the way his nerves demanded,
But he was afraid he might wake Sid,
So he lay still and stared up into the darkness.
Everything was grimly quiet.
After a while,
Out of that stillness,
Tiny noises began to make themselves noticeable.
The ticking of the clock started to stand out.
Old beams began creaking mysteriously.
The stairs creaked faintly.
Clearly spirits were out tonight.
A steadied,
Muffled snore came from Aunt Polly's room.
Then the irritating chirping of a cricket,
One that no human skill could locate.
Next came the eerie ticking of a dead-watch beetle in the wall near the head of the bed,
And Tom shivered.
It meant someone's days were numbered.
Then a far-off dog howled into the night and was answered by a fainter howl from one even further away.
Tom was in torment.
At last he felt sure time itself had stopped and eternity had begun.
In spite of himself,
He began to doze.
The clock chimed eleven,
But he didn't hear it.
Then,
Mingling with his half-formed dreams,
Came a mournful,
Screeching catawall.
The raising of a nearby window woke him.
A shout of,
SCAT,
YOU DEVIL!
And the crash of an empty bottle against the back of his aunt's woodshed snapped him wide awake.
A minute later,
He was dressed out the window and creeping along the roof of the L on all fours.
He gave a cautious MEOW once or twice as he went,
Then jumped down into the woodshed roof and from there to the ground.
Huckleberry Finn was waiting,
Dead cat in hand.
The boys slipped away and vanished into the darkness.
Half an hour later,
They were wading through the tall grass of the graveyard.
It was an old-fashioned western graveyard.
It sat on a hill about a mile and a half from the village.
A warped board fence surrounded it,
Leaning inwards in places and outwards the rest of the time,
But standing straight nowhere.
Grass and weeds grew thick and wild over the whole cemetery.
All the old graves had sunk in.
There wasn't a single tombstone in the place.
Rounded,
Worm-eaten wooden boards wobbled over the graves.
Leaning for support and finding none.
Sacred to the memory of so-and-so had once been painted on them,
But now,
On most of them,
It couldn't have been read even if there had been light.
A faint wind moaned through the trees and Tom feared it might be the spirits of the dead complaining at being disturbed.
The boys spoke very little and only in whispers because the time,
The place and the heavy quiet and solemnity pressed down on their spirits.
They found the sharp new mound they were looking for and tapped themselves in the shelter of three large elms growing close together a few feet from the grave.
Then they waited in silence for what seemed like a long time.
The hoot of a distant owl was the only sound that disturbed the dead's stillness.
Tom's thoughts grew oppressive.
He had to make himself talk,
So he whispered,
Huck,
Do you think dead people like us being here?
Huckleberry whispered,
I wish I knew.
It feels awful solemn,
Doesn't it?
I bet it does.
There was a long pause while the boys turned this over inside themselves.
Then Tom whispered,
Say,
Huck,
Do you think Hoss Williams can hear us talking?
Of course he can.
At least his spirit can.
Tom,
After a pause,
I wish I'd said Mr Williams,
But I didn't mean anything by it.
Everyone calls him Hoss.
You can't be too careful how you talk about the dead folks,
Tom.
That took the wind out of things and the conversation died again.
Then Tom grabbed his friend's arm and whispered,
What is it,
Tom?
The two clung together,
Hearts pounding.
There it is again.
Didn't you hear it?
There,
Now you hear it.
Lord Tom,
They're coming.
They're coming for sure.
What will we do?
I don't know.
Do you think they'll see us?
Oh,
Tom,
They can see in the dark like cats.
I wish we hadn't come.
Oh,
Don't be scared.
I don't think they'll bother us.
We aren't doing any harm.
If we stay perfectly still,
Maybe they won't notice us at all.
I'll try,
Tom,
But Lord,
I'm shaking all over.
Listen.
The boys bent their heads together and barely breathed.
A muffled,
Muffled sound of voices drifted up from the far end of the graveyard.
Look over there,
Tom whispered.
What is it?
It's devil fire.
Oh,
Tom,
This is awful.
Shadowy figures came through the gloom carrying an old-fashioned tin lantern that scattered the ground with countless little specks of light.
Soon Huckleberry whispered,
Shuddering.
It's devils for sure.
Three of them.
Lord Tom,
We're done for.
Can you pray?
I'll try,
But don't be scared.
They aren't going to hurt us.
Now I lay me down to sleep,
I.
.
.
Shh!
What is it,
Huck?
They're humans,
At least one is.
One is the voice of Old Muff Potter.
No,
It isn't,
Is it?
I bet I know it.
Don't move.
He isn't sharp enough to notice us.
Drunk as usual,
Likely.
Miserable old wreck.
All right,
I'll keep still.
Now they're stuck,
Can't find it.
Here they come again.
Now they're hot,
Cold again,
Hot again,
Red hot.
They're aimed right this time.
Say,
Huck,
I know another's voice.
It's Injun Joe.
That's right.
That murdering half-breed.
I'd rather they were devils,
Honestly.
What do you think they're up to?
The whispering stopped completely now because the three men had reached the grave and were standing within a few feet of the boys' hiding place.
Here it is,
Said the third voice and the speaker lifted the lantern and revealed the face of the young Dr.
Robinson.
Potter and Injun Joe were carrying a hand burrow with a rope and two shovels in it.
They dropped the load and began opening the grave.
The doctor set the lantern at the head of the grave and came and sat with his back against one of the elm trees.
He was so close the boys could have touched him.
Hurry men,
He said in the low voice.
The moon could come out at any moment.
They growled back and kept digging.
For a while there was no sound except for the scraping rhythm of shovels throwing out dirt and gravel.
It was dull and steady.
At last a shovel struck the coffin with a deep wooden thud and within another minute or two the men had lifted it onto the ground.
They pried off the lid with their shovels pulled out the body and dumped it roughly on the ground.
The moon slid out from behind the crowds and revealed the pale face.
They readied the burrow and placed the corpse on it covered it with a blanket and tied it down with a rope.
Potter pulled out a big spring knife cut off the loose dandling end of the rope and said Now the damn thing's ready doc and you're going to hand over another $5 or it stays right here.
That's right,
Said Injun Joe.
What's this supposed to mean?
The doctor said.
You demanded your pay in advance and I paid you.
Yes,
You did more than that said Injun Joe stepping towards the doctor who had stood up.
Five years ago you ran me out of your father's kitchen one night when I came asking for something to eat and you said I wasn't there for any good.
And when I swore that I'd get even with you if it took a hundred years your father had me jailed as a vagrant.
Do you think I'd forget?
The Indian blood in me isn't there for nothing and now I've got you and you've got to settle.
Understand?
By now he was threatening the doctor with his fist right in his face.
The doctor suddenly swung and knocked the man flat.
Potter dropped his knife and shouted Hey now,
Don't you hit my partner?
In the next moment he had grabbed the doctor and the two struggled hard trampling the grass and tearing up the ground with their heels.
Injun Joe sprung to his feet,
Eyes blazing snatched up Potter's knife and began creeping around the fighters crouched low,
Cat-like watching for an opening.
All at once the doctor broke free grabbed the heavy headboard from Willem's grave and smashed Potter to the ground with it and in that same instance the half-breed saw his chance and drove the knife to the hilt in the young man's chest.
The doctor staggered and fell partly on Potter,
Soaking him in blood and at that moment the clouds blotted out the terrible scene and the two terrified boys fled away into the dark.
A little later when the moon came out again,
Injun Joe stood over the two bodies,
Staring down at them.
The doctor muttered in broken sounds took a long gasping breath or two and went still.
The half-breed muttered The score is settled Curse you.
Then he robbed the body.
After that he put the deadly knife into Potter's open right hand and sat down on the ruined coffin.
Three,
Four,
Five minutes passed and then Potter began to stir and moan.
His hand closed around the knife.
He raised it stared at it and let it drop with a shudder.
Then he sat up pushed the body away from him,
Stared at it and looked around wildly confused.
His eyes met Joe's.
Lord,
How did this happen,
Joe?
He said It's a nasty business Joe said,
Not moving.
Why did you do it?
Me?
I didn't do it.
Listen,
Talk like that won't work.
Potter trembled and turned white.
I thought I'd sober up.
I had no business drinking tonight,
But it's still in my head,
Worse than when I started.
I'm all mixed up.
I can hardly remember anything.
Tell me,
Joe,
Honest now,
Old fellow.
Did I do it?
Joe,
I never meant to.
I swear on my soul and honour.
I never meant to,
Joe.
Tell me how it happened,
Joe.
Oh,
It's awful.
He was so young and he had so much ahead of him.
Well,
You two were wrestling and he hit you with the headboard and you went down flat.
Then you got up all staggering and reeling and grabbed the knife and drove it into him just as he was about to hit you again.
And you've been lying here like a log ever since.
Oh,
I didn't know what I was doing.
I wish I'd died this minute if I did.
It was the whiskey and the excitement,
I suppose.
I've never used a weapon in my life before,
Joe.
I fought,
Sure,
But never with weapons.
Anyone will say that,
Joe.
Don't tell.
Promise you won't tell,
Joe,
Please.
I always liked you,
Joe,
And I stood up for you.
Don't you remember?
You won't tell,
Will you,
Joe?
And the poor man dropped to his knees before the stone-faced murderer and clasped his hands in pleading.
No,
You've always been fair with me,
Muff Potter.
I won't betray you.
There,
That's fair as a man can say.
Oh,
Joe,
You're an angel.
I bless you for this as long as I live.
And Potter began to cry.
Come on,
That's enough.
This isn't the time for blubbing.
You go off that way and I'll go off this way.
Move now and don't leave tracks behind.
Potter started off at a trot and quickly turned into a run.
The half-breed stood watching him and muttered.
If he's stunned from that blow and is fogged from the rum as he looked,
He won't think about the knife until he's gone so far he'll be too scared to come back for it alone.
Coward.
A few minutes later,
The murdered man,
The blanketed corpse,
The lidless coffin,
And the open grave lay under no eyes but the moon's.
The stillness returned,
Complete.
