Joko Read Free Page A

ain’t some Indian thing? I mean you know how them Indians can be, Doc. It looks like ya crossed an Indian with some animal!”
    But the doctor just shrugged his shoulders without comment.
    Craig looked around. “Let’s keep it down, gents.”
    “Oh, pshaw, J.C., ain’t nobody gonna hear us.”
    Ned looked at this watch. “It’s nigh to eight thirty. If the train is late back to Lytton … well, that will cause some notice.
    I suspect the lumber’s loaded by now. We’d best get back to it.”
    It had been two hours since they had brought their strange baggage to town and dropped it in the railroad shed.
    Walking back to the railroad yard, they paused. “Look, Johnny, Doc.” Costerson leaned toward them. “It’s agreed, then. We don’t tell anybody, ’specially the mayor. We don’t do anything until tomorrow. We’ll be back on the a.m. run.”
    Doc and Johnny nodded.
    “In the meantime I’m going to see to that wound on its head,” Doc said. With that the men split up, the three railroad men toward the train and Doc and Johnny toward the shed.
    As Johnny and the doctor approached the door to the shed they paused.
    “I don’t know what we should do, Johnny. I suspect you’re as confused as I am. I’m going to skip over to my house and pick up some things to fix this boy’s head. Why don’t you go in and see to Jocko? He seems to like you. We don’t want him makin’ more noises. Go ahead and, well, try to keep him quiet. We gotta find out what it eats.” With that, the doctor headed down the path.
    Johnny undid the lock on the shed. He looked back at the doctor, pacing resolutely a hundred yards down the road.
    Doc Hannington was a good soul, but Johnny knew the doctor cared more about people than animals. He seemed to care about Jocko, but that could change.
    Johnny had planned to stay at his aunt’s place west of Yale, as he often did when he had to take the morning run. Or now, during summer, when he worked odd shifts at the firebox while the regular coalman, Scott Yerlich, was having episodes of gout brought on by the heat. This was the case this weekend, so he wasn’t due back to Lytton for two days.
    Pausing at the door, Johnny considered going over to his aunt’s but realized that would take the better part of an hour to get there and back. Plus, he didn’t want to explain his being out all night to her. Johnny felt duty-bound to watch over Jocko, so he went back inside the railroad shed.
    The lantern hung near Jocko’s cage, and Johnny could see the animal was squatting uncomfortably on the thick wire mesh floor of the cage. The mesh was roughly nailed to the flooring and many of the sharp nail heads protruded. Tufts of bear fur still clung to a nail head that stuck straight up a quarter inch in the middle of the cage. Jocko was managing to avoid it.
    Without hesitation Johnny picked up handfuls of straw and began putting it into the cage, trying to cover the nail. Jocko’s eyes followed Johnny’s movements. He did nothing for several seconds. Then he shifted his weight slightly. Johnny stopped what he was doing and waited.
    “I just thought you might need some softer stuff on the floor’s all.” Johnny looked into Jocko’s eyes, continuing to pack handfuls of straw over the nail. “Did you try the potato? I don’t see it.”

    Jocko considered his next move carefully. The human was presenting a gesture of friendship. His extended hand was an invitation to be touched – to link. If the human was a friend, Jocko would know in the linking.
    Jocko hesitated a second as he wondered: Had his people ever linked with humans? The human was removing his hand from the cage. Jocko had to act.

    Johnny didn’t see Jocko move, but he found himself in the vice-like grip of a hairless hand and Jocko was a foot closer to his face. Johnny held his breath and looked down at the hand, then back into the creature’s eyes. Johnny tried to pull free, but the grip remained firm. He gasped and pulled