The Watermill

Was Springtime. The grass was still slightly soft, but we were able to enjoy the day wearing our T-shirts and dresses now. It was the early 19th century. I was in my late 20's with three children. Was full-blooded Iroquois. Experiencing the New World each day. I had married, the son of Lester Howe. An explorer in the Mohawk Valley, of New York. Lester had built a business, sort of museum called Howe Caverns. It was a tourist attraction for many. An underground gem. My husband Chester and I occasionally took a canoe ride in the little river through parts of the cave. I had met a magical man. His father studied magic, a few times during the week. Told him, this will help him everyday and to never forget what powers you really have.

Now I was from a somewhat strict family. My father worked hard and did not want us, to become of nothing. The world was growing every day. Respect your neighbor and live well. This was noble advice I had stuck by. Most my siblings were still local. One sister Judy and 2 brothers. My older brother Larry had moved out west. Hadn't seen him in a while. He sends letters, writing how much he is enjoying life. My pa was part of the town board. Would arrange spaghetti dinners at the Haven. This was a small center, shared by both my father and his business partner. Although money could be hard at times. Life was overall great.

Chester was away in Western, NY. Traveling with his cousins, doing magic shows. Just me and the children. After the kids had left for school. I decided to take the dogs for a walk. Our big boy Cloudy. He was a white German Shepard, possible wolf. We had a smaller dog too, Tabby. She was well behaved. Didn't need a rope. Just follow along. There was a watermill where few knew. Marking points, from years on the path. I knew the way. Our land was rather off limits. I hoped to just spend a little time at the mill, run back to feed the children after school. Family members were planning a visit soon. Had to prepare everything, but for now, relax a little bit in the water. Suddenly, Tabby ran down the path very fast. Started barking. I could not outrun the Shepard. With my trust, I took him off his leash. I loved running, but the ground was still soft from the rains and now mud had splashed all on me. Finally reached the Mill. The dogs are going crazy. I hear something. A man yelling. Open the latch, to my disbelief, see a man struggling to get out of the water. The ladder had broken off! How on earth did this happen?! He was not like my kind. A black man. How did he get here? So many thoughts ran through my head at once. I'd made it to the corner which he had been treading and spoke.

"Where did the ladder go to!" Hadn't been at the mill in 4 days. He said "My God, please help me! I ran from white men. People were trying to hurt me. They found me here. I ended up falling in the pool."

"The white man stole your ladder! Oh' my God. I'm going to save you". Ran out into the forest. Needed a long branch. Please, not after this rainstorm. Everything's wet. There were a few huge branches. Just need the right one. Wish my brothers would just show up, about now. Cloudy has ran up behind me with a huge stick in his mouth. Okay- Good work- let's go. I grabbed one as well. We'd build a dam. Had to move quick. Next would be throwing down the leash. Kept a close eye on Tabby. The men had broken the whole platform. My family worked hard on this. Cement rubble that was probably sharp and slippery. Hopefully, it could be a good spot to plant the stick. The man made his way over to the long branch, that was covered in leaves. It was long enough and he could, if the rope did not pull me in with him. With a small barrier of sticks. I threw it in. He hung on. Climbing up the wall. Fell over and over. I was exhausted at this point. And crying. Felt like 5 hours had passed. I cannot give up. Ran back outside into the woods. About 30 feet away was a Y shaped branch. Up on my feet, dashed back to the mill. He was about 7 feet away. We were so close. At least now he was not swimming in one place. The branches were cracking under his feet. Hoping it would not tip over.

Cloudy's leash was tied, a figure 8. I ran to the ledge, lowered the sturdy stick to him. He held on. My weight had to hold this stick. I'd had 3 children, knew I was strong. I was gasping, wishing it would work. By now the kids were home and probably worried. Not much longer I thought to myself. H had gripped th4e leash and I felt the branch bending, scooting closer to the edge. But to my relief, I saw his arms at the top, finally pulling himself out of the mill.

"I cannot thank you enough Miss. My name is Bubba."

"Well hello Bubba. I'm Elsie. This is horrible what has happened. We do not have time. Please rush back to my home with me and tell me on the way."

About 15 minutes, we had made it back to the house. "Mom, where have you been?" My son was filled with emotion as he munched on a green apple. "Who is this guy?" They all seemed to ask at once.

"Kids, he was running away from some people and became trapped in the mill. Now go to your Father's room. Find some clean clothes for our friend. Please bring them back to me." My children were great helpers. Soon enough, Bubba had on dry clothes and a warm meal in front of him. Bubba told us how he was going to his brother's house on the other side of the forest. He could not thank us enough. After a brief hug and blessing. He was gone, "I sure do hope he stays clear of danger." Today I had became a hero. A day I will never forget.