Sonny

Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from Analog Science Fact & Fiction April 1963. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.
Of course, no one actually knows the power of a thought. That is, the milli—or megawatts type of power ...
Private Jediah Cromwell was homesick for the first time since his induction into the Army. If he had gotten homesick on any of at least a dozen other occasions during his first two weeks in the service, he might never have gotten beyond the induction center. But the wonders and delights of his first venture beyond the almost inaccessible West Virginia hills of his birth had kept him too awed and interested to think about home.
When Cletus Miller headed up the trail to Bluebird Gulch, Ma felt him coming around the bend below the waterfall a mile across the gorge. She laid down her skinning knife and wiped her hands clean of the blood of the rabbits Jed had brought in earlier in the morning.
Sonny, she called to Jed, trouble's acoming.
Jediah crossed the corn patch to her side. What kinda trouble, Ma?
Cletus Miller's comin', Ma Cromwell said. He ain't been up here since the week afore your Pa died. I don't know what it is but it's bound to be trouble.
A few minutes later Miller hallooed from the bottom of the garden patch, then trudged up to the cabin.
Set and rest, Cletus, Ma said. Sonny, fetch Cletus a coolin' dip. Jed ambled down to the spring sluice and dippered out a pint of clear, mountain water.
Got mail fer you, Cletus said, waving an envelope. Guvermint mail. Fer Sonny.
Two weeks later, Jediah swung down the mountain to Owl Creek, carrying a small sack with his good clothes and shoes in it. The draft notice was stuffed into his overall pockets along with biscuits and meat Ma had insisted he take.