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The Maze - Sixteen every moment of it with total fulfillment. It pleased him to be part of it, no matter how small or trivial his part may have seemed. Small rabbits would scurry in all directions as the thundering combine slashed its path across the vast hay fields. Karly, alert and keen-eyed for any sign of rabbit fur, would launch into a wild scene of chasing, darting, and zigzagging over the field. As fast as his lit- tle legs would carry him, he pursued his favorite sport until he made his catch. He never seemed to grow tired, and the majority of his time in the hay field was spent in such activity. Only occasionally was he interrupted by one of his uncles or farm hands, and then it was only a signal to get out of the way of the combine or the workers. Sometimes one of them would be the first to spot a rabbit, pointing a finger in that direction and watch- ing the amusing chase. Hardly a day went by that he did not man- aged to capture at least one of these tiny critters, and when he did he would coddle the frightened animal carefully in his arms, trying to soothe and calm it after its disturbing calamity. Karly loved ani- mals, and his ability to tame wildlife was known throughout the community. Tired and hungry, this eight-year-old boy waved at his two uncles operating the huge machine and turned towards home. He crossed the dusty field slowly, feeling his exhaustion and fatigue. He had been out since early dawn when the dew was still fresh and moist to his bare feet. It was now noon, and the first pangs of hun- ger began to gnaw at him, for he had eaten nothing since early morning. The scent of the baled hay filled his nostrils with its clean and earthy fragrance. This familiar aroma, so soothing and relaxing, contributed to a restful state of mind that was now enveloping his consciousness. He crossed a plank that lay over the narrow ditch which separated the hay field from the cotton patch and continued forward down a long row of cotton which summer had turned into small bushes. It seemed only yesterday that the tiny seeds had been planted into these countless furrows of rich, black earth. Soon they would lose their greenness by turning into brown, ugly, leafless stalks with little bolls of white, fluffy cotton. Karly thought it was all quite magical, and he hoped one day to see the magician at work and take him home to meet his family. Masquerade of Angels 156 The Maze - Sixteen Nearing the end of this realm of toil and labor, Karly saw that the black dirt beneath his feet began to lose its darkened hue. Gener- ally this would be a welcome sight for this weary little soul, because it meant that he would be drawing close to the sand bed, and that was halfway home. But at this moment his mind had managed to escape him and encircle his total surroundings, leaving him without any point of concentration. For a brief but timeless moment, he was alive and breathing the very essence of his environment. It was the squirming of his captured prey that brought him out of this mystical daze and back into a familiar state of consciousness which divided everything into its individual perspective: cotton, hay, laboring hands, noise, and sweat, all of which had its recogniz- able seat in Karly’s reality. As the hot Alabama sun was blistering down from the cloudless sky, his tired little feet carried him onward through the hot sand. “I wish I had worn my sandals,” he thought. “And some cold water from Grandy’s well would be so good.” He wondered what he had done with the straw hat that Uncle Jim had bought him in Fayette last week. These were thoughts occupying Karly’s mind as he made his way home, toting his little rabbit carefully in his arms. It was beginning to squirm a lot now, Karly noticed, and he held it a little tighter to keep it from breaking loose and scampering away like the last one he had caught. He found himself fighting to concentrate and focus on his new pet and direct himself forward toward the house. Suddenly, he seemed to be feeling odd and sleepy and heavy. Just ahead he saw something inviting, and for a fleeting moment he wondered why he had not noticed it before, as many times as he had passed Ms way. Shade!. Lying ahead where the sand bed began to fade into the dirt road that led home, there was a sloping bank covered with tall pines and hardwoods. Cudzu, which years before had been planted there to fight erosion, had long since gotten out of control and managed to climb and grab hold of every available limb and twig along the embankment. Quietly and secretively it had ensnarled itself around every tree and bush until they had surrendered to its plan. Insidiously, the vine hung from each branch and tree with such thickness that its growth set off an umbrella or shade that anyone Masquerade of Angels 157