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cage, it was obvious that Emmett took pride in doing any job
well. Simple s expectations rose a notch as he turned out the
lights and strolled out the back door. Starlight guided him
across the work yard, and in the tack room he crawled into
his blankets and wrote in his journal while he waited for
sleep.
Simple Treasures | Alan Chin
72
Chapter Nine
THE morning began cold and clear, with a solid, blue dome
stretched from horizon to horizon. Simple woke before dawn,
pulled on his jeans and shirt, then slid his feet into his boots
and stomped on the floorboards to seat them full on. He dug
out his journal and read the last ten pages. Then, after
feeding the livestock and milking the sorrowful old cow, he
fried up six strips of bacon and scrambled four eggs. He ate
breakfast with Emmett while watching the sunrise.
When the sun was full up, he piled the dirty dishes in
the sink and walked out to the barn to retrieve the
mousetrap, which now held four cringing field mice. He
scanned the sky and saw two specks in the distance, drifting
on the currents. He knew that the falcons were scouting the
ground for movement, and he hoped they d be able to spot
the mice inside the cage.
He grinned as he carried the mice back to the house.
After dragging a rocking chair onto the front porch, he
assembled all the gear.
Emmett shuffled onto the porch.
While Simple was retrieving the mice, Emmett had gone
into his bedroom and pulled on a plaid shirt and bib
overalls. It was the first time Simple had seen Emmett
wearing anything but his long underwear. Simple nodded,
telling Emmett he now looked like a rancher instead of a nut
case.
Simple Treasures | Alan Chin
73
Emmett huffed.  Don t make a damn what I look like. I
still feel like warmed-over dog shit. My hands are having fits,
and my gut is doing cartwheels.
 Put your mind on sewing those gloves, and you ll feel
better. I ve already threaded a half-dozen needles for you.
With any luck, we ll need them within the hour.
 Don t you wait on me. I ll have them done by the time
you catch that bird.
 I m not worried, Simple said.  It s your fingers that are
at risk, not mine.
Emmett picked up the cut pieces of padded leather,
selected a threaded needle, and went to work.
Simple studied the bird trap. He was sure it was heavy
enough to keep the bird from flying off with it. The mice
cowered in one corner, as if fully aware of the terror that
would soon rain down on them. He carried the trap into the
pasture beside the barn and set it atop a rounded boulder.
He glanced back at the house, about two hundred yards
away, making sure the trap was in view of the front porch.
Then he strolled back to the house, dragged another chair
onto the porch, and sat down to wait.
Within ten minutes he was up again, pacing the porch
fifteen paces long and four paces wide while watching the
falcons working the sky to the north. What if they don t
come? he wondered. And if they do, what if the trap can t hold
them? What will I tell the old man?
A half hour drifted by. Emmett occasionally glanced up
as he worked his needle. Simple paced and watched the sky
as if in a trance. Finally he walked inside, reheated the
coffee, and brought two cups back to the porch.
It seemed that the pair of winged raptors were gliding
south, toward the trap, but he wasn t sure. His coffee cooled
Simple Treasures | Alan Chin
74
while he continued to scan the sky, almost willing the birds
nearer. Another hour crawled by before he knew for sure
that they were moving away to the west.
Emmett lifted his head, scanned the sky.  Didn t you
say we d be needin these gloves soon? Hell, I could have
made me a Stetson hat and matching boots by now.
 They re moving off to the West. Looks like we re done
for the day.
 What s the next highfalutin idea, Einstein?
Sick with disappointment, Simple was about to call it
quits when he heard a high-pitched screech from overhead.
Soaring above the trap, a third falcon wheeled in tight
circles as it eyed the movement in the cage. It swooped,
talons outstretched. Simple held his breath, admiring the
terrifying beauty of the attack. He felt a gut-wrenching stab,
as if he were a mouse inside the cage, looking up.
Emmett uttered an inarticulate sound, showing he was
equally as enthralled.
As the bird s talons came within inches of closing on the
live bait, they met resistance from the chicken-wire cage. The
bird screeched while trying to lift itself from the cage, but
thanks to the fishing line slip nooses, it was tangled like a fly
in a web. The bird s wings flapped, but the harder it fought,
the tighter the nooses cinched around its talons.
Simple said,  Hope you re done with those gloves,
because we need them now. Without waiting for a reply, he
ran into the house and flew back out a moment later
carrying a red wool blanket. He dashed to the struggling bird
and threw the blanket over the bird and the cage, then
carried the bundle back to the house and into the kitchen,
placing it in the center of the table.
Simple Treasures | Alan Chin
75
Emmett tottered into the room, moving as fast as he was
able. Both his hands and forearms were sheathed in black
leather, and he carried the hood and jesses that would tie
the bird to the perch.
Simple took the hood and jesses, then he lifted the red
blanket off the bird. It opened its wings and tried to fly, but
it only struggled over the trap.
Emmett approached the bird from behind. He closed his
gloved hands over the frantic wings and folded them to the
bird s compact body. The bird s beak bit into his leather-
bound fingers.
Simple and Emmett stood, frozen by wonder. They
couldn t take their eyes off the bird or even utter a sound.
Brown and white and red, the feathered hunter had a noble,
curved beak and razored talons, boasting that it was a
match for anything its own size. Its deep-set eyes showed no
sign of fear or pity, but rather, it seemed offended by the
vulgarity of its imprisonment.
Simple slipped the hood over the falcon s head, and it
became sedate, not even trying to bite Emmett s gloved
hands. Simple tied the jesses around both ankles, then used
scissors to cut away the fishing-line nooses holding the bird
to the cage. Once free of the cage, it stepped onto Emmett s
gloved arm without the slightest incident and sat there as if
awaiting a firing squad.
 What now? Emmett said.
 Shit, we forgot to build a perch.
 Well, dammit, do something. I can t hold him all day.
Simple ran out the back doorway and crossed the work
yard. He found a four-foot length of two-by-four scrap
lumber in the barn and carried that back to the house. He
Simple Treasures | Alan Chin
76
placed two kitchen chairs back to back, about three feet
apart, then secured the two-by-four between them. He
wrapped the red blanket around the wood to pad it. Emmett
coaxed the bird onto the perch while Simple tied both jesses
to the perch to keep the bird secure.
 What now? Emmett asked again.
 You can start by cutting up one of those mice to feed it.
Once it s calm and fed, we ll begin the training.
 What s the point in that? Once I ve made the transfer,
I ll want to fly free.
 The training is not for the bird, it s for you. It will allow
you to form a bond with it.
Emmett nodded.  Can you give me a taste of what it s
like? I mean, so s I don t feel so damned foolish about doing
all this to a poor creature.
Simple lowered his voice, as if he were disclosing a
confidential matter to Emmett.  I m going to utter perhaps
the greatest piece of knowledge anyone can voice, he said.
 Let s see what you can do with it. Do you know that at this
moment you are the physical image created by your own
mind? And do you know that you can change that image, if
you so desire?
After a long pause, during which Simple urged the old [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]