trapdoor, but Lynn and Lucy were a welcome rescue party. He handed pieces of the broken ladder up to Lynn, who tossed them aside.
“I’ve got plenty of ladders back in the pole barn,” she called into the darkness of the hole. “I’ll go back and get one. We can get you out easy. How long of one do you need?”
Stebbs flicked on the flashlight he’d been carrying with him when he’d fallen. The light swept up the earthen wall so that Lynn could see for herself.
“I’d say what, ten feet?” she called down.
“Should do it,” came the agreement.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine, it was just a fall.”
“I’ll be right back, with the ladder,” she called to reassure him. Lucy tugged on her sleeve.
“Can I stay here?”
Lynn looked at her for a second, considering. Lucy’s little nose was red from the frigid air that had bitten at their skin as they crossed the field, her lips chapped.
“Yeah sure, I guess.” Her eyes swept to the cold stove. “Go out into the woods and get kindling, just like at home, okay? When I get back we’ll get a fire started so that it’s warm for Stebbs once we get him up. Don’t go far while you’re looking, though, and don’t do anything stupid like sing.”
Lucy took her instructions seriously; Lynn could hear the little girl moving through the dead brush as she walked away, but just barely. She stifled a flash of pride. “It’s not like she’s yours or anything,” she reminded herself out loud as she crossed the field toward home.
Lynn chose one of her shorter wooden ladders, sawed it off at the right height, and headed back over the field with it across her shoulders, both arms draped through the rungs. She felt awkward and vulnerable. If there was a threat, animal or otherwise, she’d never be able to disentangle her arms from it in time to defend herself. She cast a glance back toward her house and the pond, as she crossed the field. Already they’d been away longer than she was comfortable with.
She called out to Lucy when she approached the house, and the door was opened for her. They slid the ladder down into the hole and Stebbs flicked the light on so they could see as they descended. Lucy insisted on coming down with Lynn, exhilarated at the thought of exploring Stebbs’ hiding place. Stebbs was sitting on the earthen floor, one leg folded under him, the other stretched out straight, with the foot propped on top of a bucket.
“That looks comfortable,” Lynn said, brushing dirt from her front.
He grimaced. “It’s not the best, but it keeps the swelling down.”
“Pretty nice setup you’ve got here,” she said as her gaze swept the room. She could only see within the range of his flashlight, but even in that small area, there was enough canned food to last two winters. She heard a scurrying in one of the dark corners.
“Lucy? That you?”
“Check this out,” the little voice answered, followed by a metallic click, the sound of rushing water and a yelp.
“Lucy! Stop!”
Stebbs shushed her with a hand. “It’s okay,” he said. “Push that handle back down, Lucy.”
Lynn heard the metallic noise again and the sound of running water stopped. Stebbs’ light jumped to the corner where Lucy stood next to spigot, looking sheepish. Lynn grabbed the light from Stebbs and walked over to it, cupping her hand under the mouth to catch a few drips that fell from it. She raised it to her lips. Fresh water. Cold and clear.
“How the hell did you get lucky enough to find a well?”
Stebbs was quiet for a moment, and Lynn switched the light back in his direction. “I witched it,” he finally said.
“Bullshit.” Lynn’s voice came out strong, but the beam of the flashlight shook.
“What’s ‘witched’ mean?” Lucy asked. “Like he really
Lynn and Stebbs regarded each other quietly before she answered the little girl. “He might as well be.”
They got Stebbs up the ladder and into his bed, with his foot propped under his balled-up coat. Lucy was thirsty, so he gave her the flashlight and his cup off the shelf, and showed her how to close the trapdoor from the inside, as well as how to pull the rug back over it using a string he’d tied to one end that dangled down into the underground room. They could hear her banging around happily underneath them while they looked at each other.
“I always wondered where you got your water,” Lynn said eventually. “I never saw you gathering any.”
“No need to,” he answered. “It’s always right there, fresh and for the taking.”
“How deep is it?”
“I only dug down fifteen feet or so before hitting it. I reinforced the sides before dropping the pipeline but, really, there was no work to it.”
“It ever run dry?”
Stebbs shook his head. “Not once. You know how these veins are though, persnickety as hell. With only one man drawing off it, I do okay. But these same little sources feed places like the creek. You and I both know exactly how dependable that is.”
Still, it was wonderful. His water source was always at arm’s reach and deep enough he had no need to purify for fear of human contamination. Anyone looking at his tiny shelter wouldn’t think he had anything worth taking, unaware that a gold mine lay underneath. Lynn’s large house, outbuildings, and obvious pond made her a constant target.
There was a thump as Lucy lifted the trapdoor and hit the bottom of Stebbs’ bed. His foot jolted and he grimaced in pain, but bit down on his tongue to keep from crying out. “You ready to come up, little one?”
“Yeah.” The flashlight rolled out from underneath the bed, followed by a little hand and wrist. There was plenty of room for her to wiggle out from underneath the trapdoor. Lucy’s face was filthy, her hair covered in cobwebs. “That’s the coolest place ever.”
“That place is a supersecret special place, do you understand?” Lynn said. Lucy nodded solemnly. “If the bad people knew that Stebbs had that place under his house, they would come and take it from him.”
“They’re mean,” Lucy said, making a face.
“Very mean,” Stebbs agreed. “It’s important that you not talk about it, okay? Especially the part about how I can find water.”
“You mean that you’re a witch?”
“Yes, that is a very, very big secret.” Stebbs said, and Lucy looked from him to Lynn, frightened.
“He’s not a witch the way you’re thinking of it, Lucy,” Lynn explained. “He can find water under the ground. It’s called ‘water witching.’”
“There’s water under the ground?”
“Yeah, c’mere.” Stebbs motioned to Lucy and she approached his bed. He held out his chapped hand. Dark blue veins rose prominently over his knucklebones. “See that?” he asked, pointing to them. “There’s veins down under the ground like these that are in our bodies, ’cept they’re full of water, not blood. The ground is like the skin here on our bones, keeps the water down inside. I can find that water without seeing it, and then I dig where it’s at to make a well.”
“How do you do it?”
“Lynn, go outside to that witch hazel and cut me a forked switch.”
“You’re not serious,” she said. “You’re giving a demonstration?”
“The least I can do is provide some entertainment for my rescue party.”
Lynn bit down on her retort and went out in the waning light to cut the switch with her pocketknife. When she came back in, Lucy had three piles of blankets on the floor beside the bed and Stebbs was sitting up. She handed him the forked switch.
“All right now, close your eyes,” Lucy said. “No cheating.”
Stebbs obeyed and Lucy slid the cup of water under the middle blanket. “Ready,” she said, and scurried over beside Lynn to watch.
Stebbs pulled himself to the edge of the bed, held the forked ends of the switch loosely in his hands with his
