Free A man who cried by Yelena Kopylova

! She needn’t let anyone past that gate. Oh my God !
    He moved his head as if looking for some implement on which to lay his hands ; but there was
    nothing on the floor except straw and the sacks he had discarded yesterday and their rucksacks
    lying against the far wall. •
    His lips moving soundlessly, he stared at her again, and she turned from him and went hastily out
    through the barn door.
    He started when Dick, coming from behind, touched him on the hip and in a voice that was a
    whimper, said, ”Oh, Dad!”
    Taking hold of the boy’s hand he gripped it and, his own voice trembling, he said now, ”Don’t be
    frightened; it’ll only be for a
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    short time. Something will happen, someone will come. Someone’s got to come.” , <,••• .
    ”Dad.”
    ”Yes?”
    ”If... if I had a stick I could hit her from behind.”
    Abel peered downwards into his son’s face which he could just make out now against the coming
    dawn and he said, his words almost tumbling over each other, ”L . . . Look around, yon end of
    the barn, everywhere. See . . . see if you can find a stick or ... or a piece of wood. Go on. Go on, look around.” He had hold of Dick’s shoulder and went to push him forward, but stopped,
    saying, ”I know it’s not light enough to see properly yet, but grope. Go on grope.” And he gave
    the boy such a push he almost fell on to his face.
    After some minutes of listening to the boy moving about he hissed impatiently, ”Haven’t you
    found anything yet ?”
    ”No, Dad.”
    ”Oh my God! If only -” He tugged viciously at the chains; then stopped as Dick’s voice came to
    him, saying, ”I’ve got this, Dad.”
    ”What is it?”
    Dick was standing close to him now holding out a three foot rusted iron rod with three hooks on
    one end.
    ”It’s a scraper. Good boy. Good boy.”
    ”What are you going to do with it, Dad ?”
    ”I don’t know. . . . Yes, I do. I’m going to use it on her. I’ll lash out at her legs. Now listen. When
    . . . when she brings the food in I’ll reach out with it and swing it like this.” He demonstrated.
    ”Now if I miss her, I’ll throw it to you. You’ll likely have time to pick it up because she’ll be
    staggered for a minute or so, and then you hit out at her legs with it. Just hit out at her legs, mind.
    Bring her down. Then it will all depend on where she falls and how bad she is. But you might
    have to drag her towards me so I can search for the keys. Now stand over there near that
    stanchion. Be on the alert; keep your wits about you. Do you think you can do it ?”
    The boy swallowed, blinked, swallowed again, then said, ”Aye, Dad, aye. If you don’t manage to
    hit her I’ve got to hit her across the legs.” ,,,
    ”Aye; just hit her across the legs. ...” - • . ., ,t
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    The light lifted and they could see about thenr’now, but for the most part they kept, their eyes on
    the open barn door; and the minutes seemed to stretch into hours as they waited.
    When eventually Abel heard her footsteps on the cobbles his own knees became weak and his
    hands trembled. He knew that when he flung this iron rod at her and it made contact it would
    injure her badly; but it was either them or her and, as he kept telling himself, he was dealing with a mad woman.
    The tray still held only breakfast for one, and he also noted something else. Her face had altered,
    it was full of suspicion, it was as if she was aware of the rod gripped in his fist, for she put the tray down on the ground quite some distance from him and, motioning towards Dick, said
    without looking at him, ”Come and take the tray.”
    When the boy neither moved nor spoke, she said, ”You heard what I said, boy. Come and take
    the tray and put it where your father can reach it.”
    ”No!”
    ”What did you say ?” She now looked directly at him.
    ”No . . . o!” Even the syllable was split with his fear.
    ”Well then,