Black Angels by Linda Beatrice Brown Page A

ball, but it wasn’t necessary. The cat was dead.
    Luke pulled the hysterical Caswell out from under the cat’s belly, and while the little boy clung to him and wailed, and Daylily hung on to his neck, Luke realized he was glad Caswell was alive, really glad. He was awfully glad Daylily was alive too.
    Glad they were together in the lonesome forest, where, truth be told, nobody knew for sure if they’d ever come home again anywhere, or see anybody they called family. He felt they were all kin now. And right then in the middle of the trees under the moonlight, with the smell of dead mountain lion and pines all mingling together, he was sure he knew what his mama had meant when she said, “Take care of your friends, Luke baby. A friend is a blessing from the Lord in this evil world.”

CHAPTER 13
    FEVER
    On the eighth day, they walked until close to sunset, still following the river on their left. Trees were not as thick as they had been on the right, and there was a farm in the distance, but on the other side of the river were trees thick as ever, and also there was a peculiar-looking hill. From where they stood, Luke saw a small cave or maybe a place that had been dug out in the dirt on the side of the hill, and sticks laid across the dugout, like somebody had made a place to sit out of the rain.
    â€œCan you swim, Daylily?” Luke asked, looking at the river. She shook her head violently.
    â€œNot me.”
    â€œI can swim,” Luke assured her. “I can save you. You swim, Caswell?” Caswell moved his head up and down slowly.
    Dalylily said, “You lying, you can’t do no such thing.”
    â€œCan too,” insisted Caswell, his small chin sticking out as far as it could go. He was determined to prove himself. “You don’t know anything about what I can do!”
    â€œUs should cross over,” Luke said, pointing to the place in the hill that looked like a perfect campsite. The river was not deep here, and there was a fallen tree that formed a perfect bridge. “This is what us gon do. Us can use that log for a bridge.”
    Daylily peered sideways at him. She didn’t like this, but a place to stretch out and rest sounded wonderful, and she still didn’t feel good. She was tired and hungry. They could make a fire there. She nodded her agreement. She was to go first and then Caswell, then Luke so he could watch them both and hang on to Caswell’s pants to make sure he didn’t fall in. The log was wet and looked slippery, but nobody thought about sitting down and scooting until it was too late. It looked like it’d be easy.
    The log seemed wide enough to walk. Daylily stepped out on the log, but she was suddenly as stiff as a tree, and her legs wouldn’t work for her. She was scared to move. The cold water running under the dead tree had her hypnotized.
    â€œHurry up,” Luke yelled. “Hurry up!” You makin it harder! Just walk natural like you goin cross a field!”
    But she couldn’t look down into the bubbling water without getting dizzy. The water looked as deep as the well back at the Riversons’ place. If she drowned, would she go to Heaven? Then all at once, rigid with fear, she was over the side into the river.
    â€œHold on to the log!” Luke screamed. “Hold on to the log, it ain’t deep!” The water was shallow, but it was fast moving, and she was fighting for her life with her eyes closed.
    Luke jumped the last two feet onto the bank, holding Caswell around the waist, and set him down on the ground. Daylily was already three or four feet downriver, sputtering, arms fighting the water with every gasp for air.
    â€œStand up!” Luke was screaming. He threw off his coat and jumped in trying to get to her. “It ain’t deep! Stand up!”
    She finally heard him and found the bottom. Still close to the bank, Daylily saw that land was within reach, started toward it and fell