Florida FAST Practice Test 11

The Ferry at Hollin's Ford

¹My grandfather kept the ferry

²where the Hollin River bends,

³a flat-bottomed boat on a cable

⁴strung between two iron ends.

⁵For thirty years he'd haul it

⁶hand over hand, with a song,

⁷and the farmers paid in apples

⁸and the children rode along.

⁹But I had heard the story

¹⁰the whole town liked to tell:

¹¹the spring the river rose too fast,

¹²the cable snapped, a peddler fell.

¹³He never sang again, they said,

¹⁴and never crossed in flood;

¹⁵he'd tie the boat and sit and watch

¹⁶the river thick with mud.

¹⁷"A careful man," my mother said.

¹⁸"A frightened one," said the town.

¹⁹I was ten and thought it shameful

²⁰that he let the ropes hang down.

²¹Then came the April of the storm,

²²three days of rain like stones;

²³the river climbed the willow roots

²⁴and rattled the ferry's bones.

²⁵At midnight someone pounded

²⁶on our door, a lantern high:

²⁷the young doctor from the valley,

²⁸her coat as wet as the sky.

²⁹"There's a child across the river,

³⁰and she's burning, and she's three.

³¹The Carrow bridge is under water.

³²Your ferry's all there is," said she.

³³My grandfather didn't answer.

³⁴He looked past her at the night.

³⁵"The river doesn't care," he said,

³⁶"who's waiting, or who's right."

³⁷"Then I'll take the boat myself," she said,

³⁸and turned toward the shore.

³⁹And I saw something cross his face

⁴⁰I'd never seen before.

⁴¹It wasn't fear, and it wasn't pride,

⁴²but older, and more worn—

⁴³the look of a man who pays a debt

⁴⁴he's carried since I was born.

⁴⁵He took the lantern from her hand.

⁴⁶He did not sing. He hauled.

⁴⁷The cable hummed like a living thing,

⁴⁸and the black water crawled.

⁴⁹I watched them from the landing

⁵⁰till the lantern was a spark,

⁵¹a small gold stitch that held the shores

⁵²together in the dark.

⁵³He came back gray at morning.

⁵⁴The girl was well by June.

⁵⁵And sometimes, hauling apples now,

⁵⁶he hums a broken tune.