Chapter 7

"Grace, what on earth made you want to run out into the street? It's dangerous to be standin' still out on the road; especially when it's real busy. Those horses could have killed you."

Sampson tried his hardest not to yell at Grace; yet he couldn't help feeling fearful of losing her yesterday. To live on the street scraping for food or searching for shelter was not the kind of life he would want for her, especially in a town like this. The two companions spent the day in the backyard while Ned and Dan were at the office to question Lewis. They were not alone though. Grace was being closely watched by the house maid Sue. The night when Ned brought her in, she had already been in bed. She wore a grayish long-sleeve dress with a white apron over her waist. She had long black hair, brown eyes, and pale skin. Right now she was busy carrying bed sheets and other clothes to the room where she would be washing them. The back yard stretched fifteen feet wide on all sides. There was a water trough, a snubbing post, and pile of fresh hay to eat and sleep on. Grace didn't mind however what Sampson had been saying, but was uncertain of how to explain the intense crow encounter.

"Some black bird told me that… maggots would be after me if I…I didn't move out soon," Grace stuttered trying to keep herself from crying, yet couldn't help remembering how the sly crow had scared her with his taunting verbs as she was on the ground in agony.

"…then he…started poking my leg with his beak…and…then said it…was only a matter of time before they could smell me… within miles away," The young calf tried to keep her dignity. Right then, Sampson knew that someone else from high above had been scaring Grace with lies during his absence in town. Still she shouldn't have run off like that, but the next time one of those crows tried to pick on her again, he'll bash them on the head with a stick.

"It's alright Grace…it's alright," Samson rubbed his paws on her left leg doing his best to comfort her. But he was beginning to realize that even if she wasn't with that boozer anymore, it may take a long time for her to recover from all that has happened.

Come on think, think. Sampson struggled to try and remember what other kind of advice his uncle once gave him when one was not all in the highest of spirits. Whenever you're feelin' low, the one thing to do is sing a song of pure joy.

That's it! Sampson's face widened in excitement. He knew exactly what to tell Grace. From below, he thought he saw a tear from her eye ready to fall on him, which encouraged him to move aside. It fell on the ground like a raindrop from the sky. Poor Grace. He thought sadly for a moment. To think that any creature big or small should have to live a life of misery, without knowing the good side of life was a dismal fact indeed. Well, here it goes.

"You know Grace," he began. "Whenever I wasn't the least bit cheery, my uncle once said to me that a song was the best purification."

Grace stared down in confusion. At this time, her tears had dried up halfway before Sampson continued.

"…In other words…can cure all feelings of painful memories." Grace still didn't know what he was trying to tell her. Sampson sighed. He thought it might be a little easier to show her something and then explain it.

"Aha," he caught a glimpse of a field of what he thought were the most exquisite bluebonnets and violets he ever set eyes upon.

"Come on, let me show you," he signaled his right paw for her to follow where he was pointing. Standing upright from the hay, she wondered what he had to say now.

"You see this flower here?" The mouse held in front of him a violet. "Well, when the sun shines on a plant like this, it emerges from a small seed and grows to become what it looks like now. Without the sunshine, it might have still been nothing more than an ordinary seed rottin' away miserably." Grace was starting to understand a little about what he said, but Sampson wasn't finished yet.

"Don't you see?" he asked softly, pushing the violet aside. "If you allow fear to fill your mind, then maybe, just maybe there'd be no point in lookin' on the bright side. My uncle taught me that no matter how hard times may be, there is also a time to enjoy all there is around you. Here I'll even show you how it's done."

Standing in front of Grace clearing his throat, he began to sing:

Oh I come from Alabama with a banjo on my knee

I'm going to Louisiana, my true love for to see

It rained all night the day I left the weather it was dry

The sun so hot, I froze to death, Susannah don't you cry

A smile had now spread across the calf's face as he went on.

Oh Susannah, oh don't you cry for me

For I come from Alabama with a banjo on my knee

Grace was extremely pleased by the lyrics and the tone in Sampson's voice. Unfortunately it didn't seem to impress the entire critter neighborhood from outside the fence, leaving them to either close their ears tight, burrow underground, or to move to a different area on the plain. Even Sampson knew he had not much of a talent for singing, but that didn't stop him from going.

I had a dream the other night when everything was still

I thought I saw Susannah A-coming down the hill

The Buckwheat cake was in her mouth the tear was in her eye

Says I, I'm coming from the south Susannah, don't you cry

Even now, Grace began to join in his singing to the last lyrics.

Oh Susannah, oh don't you cry for me

For I come from Alabama with a banjo on my knee

Her singing was not exactly all heavenly or like a happy little bluebird, instead it felt more like a pile of breaking glass falling one by one. Sampson didn't want to spoil her sense of fun by telling her that she was terrible. His singing was just as bad as hers. With his face scrunching into a frown from every high and low tone, he now wished his uncle or anybody had only given him singing lessons.

"You're doing wonderful Grace," he lied. "Now it's time for a new song."

For the rest of the afternoon, the painful sorrow that filled Grace had simply disappeared. She had never felt happy or peaceful ever since being saved from an even worse punishment, unaware of her tone-deafness. All thoughts of Lewis had been cleared out of her mind as Sampson tried to teach her dance moves and other country folk songs.

Sue, who had just finished with the laundry, came into the kitchen for a quick snack. Her ears perked up at an unusual high screech coming from outside. Irritated, she stepped out back to shut whoever made that horrible racket up. She was taken aback by the sight of Grace prancing around in circles with a small rodent beneath her feet. Sue hated mice as well as rats. Hesitantly, she rushed back inside to fetch the broom.

"Shoo, shoo you dirty flea-bitten rodent!" She cried fiercely, interrupting the happy moment by chasing the little guy around the fence area. Grace, displeased with how her friend was being treated, caught Sue's dress with her teeth stopping her. This gave Sampson a moment to hide himself in the hay.

"Now what's the matter with you?" Sue gave Grace an incredulous look. "Weren't you screamin' because of that rodent snappin' at your feet? I just had this dress altered you know." She snatched her dress out of the calf's mouth which was now crinkled.

"What's going on Sue?" a voice brought Sue's attention to the backdoor. Ned Jones had just arrived back from an unsuccessful frustrating talk with Lewis. The despicable boozer had been ranting and raving from his jail cell about returning back home to deal with more important issues than to be accused of crimes he didn't commit. He had also been trying to come up with an excuse as to why he kept the WANTED posters and newspaper articles in a secret room. The deputies nearly believed he was never going to get them anywhere with all his nonsense and insisted that maybe they should just release him. But Ned refused, saying they should give him two more days before announcing his sentence. As complicating it may be, he was not the type of lawman to give up easily.

"Oh nothin' Ned, 'cept that this calf here almost ripped my dress while I've been chasin' away an ugly mouse," Sue answered sarcastically. Grace gave the maid a frown. Sampson is not ugly!

"Now Sue, I'm sure she was only playin' around with them. She must've not had much contact with friendlier animals before and is just startin' to get used to them."

"Honestly, why did you bother bringin' her here? Why not just send her to the cattle stockyard?" Sue had been wiping off some dirt from her dress. Already Grace was starting to not like this woman.

"I have my own reasons," Ned answered annoyed. "Don't you still have the furniture to dust?" Sue walked back into the house without answering. Grace had given Ned a somewhat worried look as if she were ready to be shipped off to some place like a cruel orphanage for unwanted calves.

"I've got something for you girl," Ned pulled out the milk bottle from his sleeve. Grace walked over to him slowly and suckled rather softly than last time.

"Now don't you mind her," Ned whispered rubbing the back of her neck. "She's just sensitive when it comes to newcomers. Don't even know why I hired her in the first place…but no one's going to take you anywhere."

Oh well, at least Ned was still kind to her (when he's not on the job). Sue didn't really sound like Lewis, but Grace felt that she shouldn't have criticized her little friend or of her being here when she may not have any place else to go. Why would she chase Sampson anyway?

"Alright now," Ned took the bottle out of her mouth. "Now you go off and play with your little critter friends." He went back inside.

"Sampson, Sampson where are you?" Grace whispered with her snout halfway beneath the hay. Out popped Sampson safe and unharmed.

"Why do you think that woman was chasing you?" she asked puzzled.

"Well…," this was a question Sampson almost didn't want to answer, but did anyway. "Most humans…like that woman like to think of us mice as nothin' but troublemakers; in my honest opinion that is."

"How do you mean?"

"Well…uh…hey about another song?"

"OK."

Sampson, glad to have changed the subject quickly, sang "She'll be Comin' Round the Mountain When She Comes" along with Grace. Let's hope she never finds out the terrible facts of rodents.

Later that night, five suspicious figures stood atop a hill a mile away from the sleeping town. One of them had just lit up a cigarette while preparing to listen to what the others had planned.

"How do you think we should go in there and get'im?" One man asked, keeping his gaze on the jail house.

"Simple partner," one man with the scar across his face replied cunningly. "First thing at dawn, while the whole town is still asleep, we just waltz right in and bust those doors open. If any citizen catches or tries to put a stop to it, shoot'em."

"You leave all that to me," the rogue clicked his trigger in hand.

"Save your energy now. Wouldn't want to start a riot now would we?" The others shook their heads.

"What'd you think happened to that calf?"

"Don't know. Might as well be in another home. Either way, we'll see what the old man has to say 'bout it."

Disclaimer: The original lyrics to "Oh Susannah" were written by Stephen Foster in 1847, and were later set with new lyrics and became known as the "forty-miner" theme song during the California Gold Rush. Therefore, the song was created and belongs to him.