The kids giggled, probably imagining a boy stealing chickens and trying to run away with them.
Dixon straightened in his chair.Here came the crux of his story.
“In the forest, a mile outside of town, there lived a group of people—men and women, old folks, and children with red cheeks, cold from the blowin’ wind, and all of ’em were hungry.
“They were kind and hardworkin’ folks, but they weren’t from Augustus’s town.They weren’t even from the same country, and they didn’t speak a lick of English, so nobody would hire them or help them.
“But Augustus did.He ran into them one day on his way home after school.He couldn’t understand them.He didn’t even know what language they spoke, but he watched them cut down trees to make shelters for their families and forage nuts and berries from the forest floor, and they weaved beautiful baskets out of tree branches, but there weren’t many options for meat and bread.And their clothes had so many holes that you could see right through ’em!
“So, for months, Augustus had been stealin’ to feed and clothe the forest people.They traded with him, and Augustus passed on the beautiful baskets they gave him to all the townsfolk he’d stolen from.Everyone asked and begged to know where the baskets had come from because they were of the highest quality and so pretty, but no one knew.Augustus never spilled the beans.
“Now, he knew it was wrong to steal.He wasn’t really a rogue.He was just a boy, but he was a boy who knew right from wrong, and he knew it was wrong to let those people starve when he could do somethin’ to help.His daddy didn’t remember, but Augustus had asked him to help in the very beginning.You know what his dad said?”
The kids shook their heads.
“Mr.Quail told Augustus that givin’ the foreigners help was a copout, and they needed to work harder to provide for themselves.He wasn’t about to just hand his hard-earned money over to lazy people.”
“Then what happened?”Jarod asked.
“One day, Augustus stole a pair of pants from a local clothes maker, and he ran to his mama’s bakery.He stuffed two loaves of bread in his shirt and climbed down the hole in the floor.But this time, his dad saw and followed him.
“When he got to the end of the tunnel next to a big oak tree, the old man squinted against the bright sunlight, but he saw the path his son had taken and his footprints in the dirt, so he followed again.
“He knew he was close when he heard strange, foreign voices, so he hid behind the base of a wide cedar tree.”Dixon lifted and wove his long arms into the air, and the kids’ eyes followed.“Branches swayed high in the forest canopy, creakin’ and whooshin’ in the wind.But then Augustus’s father heard his son’s voice, and he could tell Augustus was scared.”
I could’ve dropped a thumb tack and every single person in the room would’ve heard its quiet ping on the floor.Even Cela had gone quiet beside me.Callum tossed me a wink and a smile, enjoying watching Dixon tell his story.
Thunder rumbled again outside, and suddenly, Dixon jumped out of his seat, his arms now spread wide, and the kids stared up at him expectantly.“Mr.Quail leapt out from behind his tree, expectin’ to fight these foreigners and protect his son… but what he found instead rendered him speechless and made shame course through his heart.”
Dixon closed his eyes, dropped his arms to his sides, and hung his head, and in unison, every kid in the room begged, “What did he find?”
Dixon nodded, ready to deliver a heartwarming finish, and he looked up solemnly.“Mr.Quail found Augustus holding a small child, skinny as a stick and weak from hunger and cold.The little boy’s motherbeggedAugustus, but he had no idea what she was askin’ of him.
“But Augustus’s father knew.”Dixon puffed up his chest and deepened his voice.“‘Give me the boy,’ he told his son, ‘and run ahead.Fetch the doctor.’
“Augustus was surprised to see his father in the woods, and even though he was afraid of bein’ punished for stealin’, he hoped his father would show compassion.‘They can’t pay,’ Augustus told his dad.‘They have no work.No money.’
“‘That matters not,’ his father said.‘Go on now, son, and be quick.We won’t be far behind.’
“Augustus ran as fast as he could, but this time, he didn’t take the long and windin’ secret path.He ran straight through the forest until he hit the town border, then he yelled and called loudly for the doctor.People in the little village peeked out of their windows at Augustus, and then they began to emerge, gossiping with each other about the unruly teen and what he might be up to this time.
“But after a short while, behind Augustus, his father and the forest people appeared from the thick of the trees, and Mr.Quail commanded, ‘We need clean water and food.Bring everything you have.’
“Well,” Dixon said, “the townsfolk all scurried about, ransackin’ their kitchens for food and fillin’ jugs with water from the town well, because Augustus’s father was a miser, yes, but he loved his town.He wanted to protect his neighbors and make sure they were fed, just like Augustus, but now he knew he’d made a mistake.So when Mr.Quail spoke, his neighbors listened, and they could hear the regret in his voice.
“Soon, the town meetin’ hall was filled with the most delicious meats, cheeses, and breads, and everyone’s cups overflowed with fresh water.”
Quietly, Dixon sat, and he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.“The end.”
“What?”Carter blurted.“The end?That’s a crock!What about the sick kid?”
“Did Augustus get in trouble?”Sunday asked.
Dixon smirked, looking around at all the inquisitive faces still focused on him.“You tell me.What do you think happened next?”
“He probably went to jail,” Carter said.
Sunday shook her head definitively.“No, he was the town hero.They wouldn’t put him in jail.His dad would apologize to Augustus, and he’d tell his son that seein’ the sick boy reminded him that love matters more than money.The neighbors would have a party for Augustus, and the forest people would all move to town.They’d build them a big mansion, and everyone would live happily ever after.”
