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Chapter 22

Swains Lock

Saturday, March 29, 1924

It was after 8:30 on Saturday morning when Cy’s feet found the floor. Habit guided him to the simple wooden dresser in his lockhouse bedroom at Swains, where he was relieved to see his stash of bills. He must have remembered to bring it upstairs from the kitchen jar last night after returning from Great Falls. With Pete and Katie around, valuable things needed to be kept out of sight. Leafing through, he counted fifty-six dollars. He hobbled over to the chair where he’d thrown last night’s clothes and withdrew the contents of his coat pockets. Only an empty tasting flask, two more dollars, and the remainder of Zimmerman’s vial, which he held up to the light to measure with his eyes. He opened a dresser drawer and hid the vial inside his pair of clean socks.

Standing in his underwear, he looked out the room’s lone window and considered the events of the previous night. Shit. He’d sold seven pints and then been up in the poker game for most of the evening – up over ten dollars at one point. His winnings had evaporated as the game wound down. And in the ensuing session with Zimmerman, the rest of his money had purchased an ephemeral reprieve from his pain. So now he had fifty-eight dollars and owed the Emorys seventy-five. They were half-assed boaters, and if they’d reached Widewater from Georgetown yesterday, it would still take them two hours to get through the locks at Great Falls and cover the distance to Swains. So he still had a little time.

He looked out the window at the driveway and the canoe rack beyond it. Pete was playing in the driveway, spinning the pedals of an upside-down bicycle with his hands. If Cy was lucky, he thought, he might be able to sell a few pints of whiskey this morning at Great Falls, but that wouldn’t come close to yielding the seventeen dollars he needed. It would be a bad idea to stiff the Emorys on the first run of the season. If he did, his business with them was finished and there might be more serious consequences to follow. There were one or two people in the area who might lend him some money, but none he could tap on such short notice.

It was a weekend, so the Inn at Great Falls Tavern would be busy. And within the next hour or so, tourists in cars would start arriving to visit the Falls. If only he had something he could sell. What about Katie? Was there a bracelet or necklace she wouldn’t miss right away? He doubted that she’d brought anything nice with her from Williamsport. That leaf-pendant with the strange symbol was a possibility, but she never seemed to take it off. He noticed that Pete had turned the bicycle right-side up and was trying to mount it, but his legs weren’t long enough. Cy snapped out of his musing when he realized he was staring at the solution. Pete didn’t own a bicycle and neither did anyone else at Swains. The bicycle was obviously built for an adult. Where had it come from? That didn’t matter. He dressed hurriedly and limped downstairs.

Peering into the kitchen, Cy saw Katie clearing the table. She and Pete usually ate breakfast before he came downstairs. He put the thought of food aside and slipped out the front door, headed for the driveway. Pete was kneeling next to the upside-down bicycle and spinning the front wheel by its spokes. He looked up when he saw Cy approach.

“I found a bicycle!” His face lit up.

“So I see,” Cy said solemnly. “Where was it?”

Pete pointed to the canoe rack. “Over there,” he said. “Leaning against the rack.”

Cy observed with satisfaction that the bicycle looked almost new. “Pete, that belongs to a grown-up,” he said. “It ain’t suitable for a kid.”

Pete’s face fell. “I know,” he said softly. “But I can almost ride it. When I’m bigger…”

“Pete, that bicycle needs to be returned to its rightful owner. And I know who that is. A friend of mine. I’m sure he’ll be very happy you found it for him.”

“But then why did he leave it here?”

“I’m sure he didn’t mean to leave it here,” Cy said, putting a hand on the wheel to stop it from spinning. “It must have been a mistake.” He lifted Pete to his feet and smiled. “When I take it back to my friend, I bet he might even offer a reward to the person that found it.”

Pete looked up at Cy but his smile collapsed.

“So I’m going to tell my friend that you’re the one who found his bicycle,” Cy said. He righted it and put his hands on the handlebars. “I’m going to take it to him right now, so he don’t have to worry about his missing bicycle.” He started wheeling it across the driveway with Pete following reluctantly. Cy stopped and bent to address his brother. “Now Pete, I need you to help Katie keep an eye on the lock. Tell her I’ll be back in an hour or two, and if anyone comes looking for me, have her tell ‘em to wait here until I get back. I won’t be long. OK?”

Pete tried to look his brother in the eyes but his gaze drifted down to rest on the bicycle instead. “OK,” he mumbled.

Cy wheeled the bike to the lock gates and carried it across to the towpath, where he mounted it tentatively and began pedaling toward Great Falls.

***

After hearing the front door close, Katie looked out the kitchen window and saw Cy circling around to the driveway. A bit earlier she’d seen Pete excitedly pull the bicycle out from behind the canoe rack and upend it. She dried the dishes and swept the kitchen floor. When she was finished she stepped outside and saw Pete wandering back toward the old green canoe that was tied-up on the berm. The morning air was still cool and sharp, but clear skies promised another mild spring day. Cy was nowhere to be seen and the bicycle had vanished along with him. The morning was progressing as she expected.

At 9:30 she peered down the canal at an approaching scow. As it drew closer she could see it wasn’t the Emorys. It was a repair scow headed upstream, the third of the morning. When the scow reached Swains, she and Pete helped the crew lock through. Katie asked them where they were heading and they said they were going up to Seneca to do maintenance work on Dam 2. They said the repairs were mostly done around Great Falls, and all the snow and ice had melted up to Cumberland during last week’s thaw. So the canal was still supposed to open on April first. That was Tuesday. Katie asked the scow’s captain if there were more repair crews following them and he said they were the last one. He tipped his cap in thanks as his mules pulled the boat out of the lock. When the scow receded upstream, Katie asked Pete to help her reset the lock for another light boat.

“But they said they was the last boat,” Pete said.

“They said they was the last repair boat,” Katie said. “I think there might be a private boat coming up from Great Falls sometime soon.” Pete enjoyed turning the lock-keys and pushing the swing beams, so he didn’t question Katie further and they reset the lock.

As Pete wandered back over to his moored canoe, Katie stood on the lock wall and peered hard down the stretch of canal that was visible from Swains before the waterway bent out of sight on its way to Great Falls. She couldn’t see a boat but reason told her it wouldn’t be long before the Emory’s scow emerged in the distance. She went inside and found an empty canvas bag in the closet. From the wallet in her purse, she culled a dollar and two dimes. She headed back out to the driveway and called Pete over.

“Pete, I need you to run an important errand for me and Cy,” she said, handing him the canvas bag, the dollar, and the dimes. “We need some more bread for tomorrow and Monday, and you and Cy will want a loaf when you start boating on Tuesday.” Pete was staring at the money in his hand. He was often given coins, but he wasn’t used to receiving a whole dollar bill. “I need you to head up to the Crossroads Store at River and Falls,” Katie continued, “and buy us two loaves of fresh bread. Do you know where that is?”

Pete nodded and she smiled. “Good.” Getting to the store only required turning right at the end of the long Swains driveway and following River Road, but the Falls Road intersection was over two miles away. And Katie knew he would have to wait for the day’s second batch of loaves once he arrived, so the errand would keep him busy until mid-afternoon.