JUNIOR KING’S BUSINESS edited by Martha S. Hooker
Ano the r Exc iting Adventure
Singing Jack by Robert Black
Tonight something terrible was about to happen in a cabin in Owl Hoot woods
Y ou could feel the scariness com ing up out of the hollows with the deepening shadows. You could feel the uneasiness all through Owl Hoot woods as the wind would rattle the trees like it was making up its mind to blow and then quiet down again. As I sat there on the straight chair in Hiram Greene’s >vcabin watching Hiram sitting with the shotgun laid across the table in front of him, I could see the scariness on Hiram’s face. It was even worse than it had been at church that afternoon when he’d gotten up and left right after the meeting. Seeing Old Hiram looking so miserable was the reason I ’d come down to his cabin in the Owl Hoot woods. I ’d wanted to see if there was something I could do. It was the way I felt when I saw a coon or muskrat in one of Clem Powder’s traps. I could never enjoy trapping for feeling sorry for the poor crit ters. “It was nice of you to come and see if there was something wrong, l i t t l e f e l l a , ” Old Hiram said. “There’s been lots wrong for a long time.” His face made me feel mournful like when I ’m layin’ snug in bed and hear a coyote off on the ridge. I knew right then, as worried as that man looked, he never trusted
fella, 11, has no call to be scared just because night is coming on. But it looked like a mighty fearsome night. Uncle Hiram jumped and twisted his head this way and that like he’d heard something. He stared straight out the open door into the dusk. “No, little fella, maybe you had better stay. You can be my witness along with God that whatever I do here can’t he helped. I wouldn’t want to send you alone out on the trail now, little fella. Not at this stage.” Uncle Hiram Greene lives right down along the river, clear off the main road. You’ve got to follow a little winding trail through the big elms, ashes and prickly bramble bushes to get there. It’s a little bit scary walking down to Hiram’s cabin even in the daytime. Hiram farms a little patch of ground and part of the time he works at the garage in town. Folks said he had regular city ways and some won dered why he chose to live way out in the sticks the way he did. In a way I regretted coming down to Hiram’s cabin the way I had. I knew that if it got late before I went home, Aunt Downy Smith would be worried. My folks died away back when I was a baby but Aunt Downy is awful good to me.
Jesus to the fullest like our preacher up at Pine Junction Church is al ways telling us to do. Aunt Downy Smith had often said that nobody remembe r ed ever seeing Hiram Greene go forward when the preach er gave his altar call, but Hiram claimed Christ. He never prayed out loud either, hut he always claimed he was saved. “You’d better run on, little man. The shadows are getting mighty thick.” He spoke without spirit, like he was sitting there waiting for lightning to strike him. It was get ting chilly in the cabin too, but the stove was all cold and the grease in the frying pan was all thick and white. Aunt Downy Smith always said Hiram kind of let things go because he didn’t have a woman to take care of him. “I ain’t scared, Uncle Hiram,” I said. I trusted in Jesus and then too, I was 11 years old and a big
About the Author Robert Black has sold more than 60 stories to various Christian publications but this is the first one to appear in The King's Business. He works for a daily newspaper in Shenandoah, Iowa as news reporter, farm editor, photographer. He is also editor of the lowo County Officer Mag azine. We think his story, "Singing Jack," is the kind of yarn that will hold interest for the entire family. Let us know what you think.
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