The Witchery Way

by Robert L. Ferrier

  Josh squeezed Amy’s hand. "How is he?"

  "He’s going to be okay. He’s strong." Pride showed in Ed’s eyes. "The doctor said you saved him with that compress you rigged up. And your blood transfusion helped too."

  "I was responsible. Giving help and blood doesn’t repay the debt."

  Ed’s look was severe. "No, Josh, it doesn’t. Especially after both Wake and I told you to stay out of those woods."

  "I know."

  "What happened out there, Josh?"

  Josh resolved to tell him, but then he stopped. Approaching down the hall, white Stetson and chrome-plated pistol gleaming, was Sheriff Billy Ray Gottschalk.

  Josh said, "Looks like I’ll have to tell it to him at the same time."

  After they all went to the hospital lounge, Sheriff Gottschalk tipped his Stetson back on his head and said, "I heard your dad ask you why you went into those woods at that hour. I’d like to hear the answer myself."

  "I went in because a friend invited me to join him and some others for a ceremony."

  "What friend?"

  "Tom Sixkiller."

  "What ceremony?"

  "His uncle, Isaac, and two others were having a...get-together."

  The Sheriff chuckled. "A get-together? I never heard it called that before. Is that what you call a bunch of old Indians sitting around a fire eating peyote and singing? That’s what they did, wasn’t it, boy?"

  "My name is Josh.."

  "Fine. Now please answer the question."

  "This isn’t a courtroom. All I’ll say is that I spent some time around the fire with some people I found interesting."

  "Why go in the middle of the night? Why not meet them in the day?"

  Josh shrugged, and Amy squeezed his hand. "They didn’t invite me during the day."

  The Sheriff rolled up his eyes and sighed. "Must of been something you wanted real bad to go out there at night. After your father warned you against it. He did warn you, didn’t he? Wake, too?"

  He felt sweat roll down his side into the cuts; and he had a headache. "Dad, could you get me a Coke?"

  They waited while his father got the Coke from a machine in the lounge. Josh popped the top and sipped. "Yes, Wake warned me."

  "Then it must have been something important that made you go out in those woods.”

  "Making new friends is important. Tom Sixkiller is a new friend. So’s Isaac."

  "Did it occur to you that you were trespassing on private property?"

  Josh shrugged. "I just went with Tom and, well, observed."

  "Observed." The Sheriff looked down at his boots. He took off his hat and ran his hand through his mane of silver hair. Then he put the hat back on. "I have to think you did more than observe, Josh. I have to think you went out there to talk to someone. That right? Did you talk to old Isaac?"

  Josh sipped his Coke. He wasn’t under oath, but he hated this. He had vowed to tell the truth to his father, who was watching. But he hadn’t vowed to tell the truth to the father of the man who had chased him in the woods. Trace Gottschalk was a witch and a killer, and to tell the truth to Sheriff Gottschalk violated Josh’s sense of right and survival. "I met him and shook his hand. I listened and watched. That’s all."

  The Sheriff’s white mustache twitched. "You eat peyote with him?"

  "I didn’t say anything about peyote."

  "You eat it with him?"

  Josh was really sweating now. "I went outside and left them.”

  "What could you have wanted to discuss with that old Indian?”

  "I didn’t say I discussed anything with him."

  "Boy, you’re a da—“

  "My name is Josh."

  Ed Wade stood up. "Sheriff, ny son is tired. Whatever happened out there last night, he’s exhausted from it. He gave blood for Wake, and he needs sleep. Please finish your questions or have us up to your office tomorrow."

  The Sheriff didn’t seem to hear. "What happened after you left Isaac."

  "I went back toward Hickory Creek Park."

  "How’d you get so cut up?"

  "I couldn’t see well in the dark. I hit some underbrush."

  "How much time passed between leaving the Indians and finding Wake McKenna?"

  Josh shrugged. "I can’t recall."

  "You see anything unusual?"

  "Like what?"

  The Sheriff closed his eyes. "You and Wake McKenna have an argument? Is that why you left?"

  Josh was caught off guard. "Well, no. Wake and I got along fi—"

  "Maybe you were angry with him. Might have heard him calling for you in the woods?”

  Ed Wade slammed his fist against an end table. The room fell silent; all that could be heard was the hum of an electric clock on the wall. "That’s the last ‘question’ for tonight, Sheriff. Unless you have some official paper."

  The Sheriff smiled and stood up. "Well, that’ll be all for tonight. I know where I can find you." He sauntered to the door and looked back at Josh. "You’ve been getting good advice from a lot of people, Josh. Maybe you ought to start listening." He paused. "I don’t know what happened out there last night. But somebody slit that ranger’s throat, and I’ll find out who did it." Then he was gone.

  Josh listened to the sound of his boots clicking down the hall. At that moment, Josh started forming the seed of a plan. And nothing was going to stop him from trying it.

  Amy put her arm around him. "You stood up to him good.”

  "He makes me mad."

  Ed Wade walked up and patted him on the shoulder. "He makes all of us mad." He handed Josh the keys to the pickup. "You’ve stayed around here all day. Take a break."

  "Thanks, Dad."

  "Go out and have a burger with Amy, then take her home and go home yourself. I’ll stay with Wake a while."

  "How will you get home?"

  "Joe’s coming out in a while. I’ll catch a ride with him." He paused. "And Josh, that reminds me. Joe needs your help on No. 88. With you away, he got behind. Be there at seven."

  "Okay, Dad."

  "And one last thing."

  "Yes?"

  "Forget about any ‘plans’ involving the railroad’s problems. You’re not in this fight."

  Josh nodded, but only to avoid an argument. He wasn’t out of this fight yet. He and Amy went to the parking lot. The night was warm and muggy, with patchy clouds. Josh started the pickup and drove three blocks south to Jackson, the main drag of Senoca. "You hungry, Amy?"

  "Nope.”

  "Me neither. What do you want to do?"

  “Just drive and be with you. Talk a bit. That was a long three days without seeing you."

  He nodded. "For sure."

  He turned east on Highway 70. They passed the Red Star Drive-in and the Dairy Queen.

  Sammy Jack Pricer and a bunch of the guys were at the Dairy Queen, and they honked and waved; but Josh kept going—he wanted to be alone with Amy. He drove three miles, then turned north on an old gravel section line road where he and his dad used to hunt rabbits with .22’s. Seeing the road made him feel guilty.

  "Josh, what’s wrong?"

  "Nothing. Just a few regrets about killing animals when I was younger."

  "When you were younger! You make it sound like you’re old. You’re just seventeen, like me.”

  He turned up a side road and drove northwest to a rise overlooking a farm pond. He had hooked some bass with Ed a few years back, but now he and Amy parked here. He had kissed her for the first time here, and it was a special place, like the stadium steps where they talked. He cut the engine and listened to it ticking. "I may be seventeen, but sometimes I feel old inside—especially when I look back on things I wish I had done differently."

  Off in the distance a dove gave plaintive call. Amy leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Is that a blanket behind the seat?"

  "Yeah."

  "Let’s get in the back and look at the sky."

  They spread out his dad’s old high school letter blanket, black wi
th gold trim, with a gold buffalo in the middle. The blanket was wrinkled and dusty, but Josh felt pride in his dad as he looked at it—he hoped that he could earn one like it this year. Josh wadded up a plastic sack full of clothes meant for the Salvation Army and made a pillow. They stretched out and looked at Orion playing hide-and-seek with the cotton puff clouds. The smell of pines and wildflowers filled the air, along with the faint scent of Amy’s perfume.

  "Amy?”

  "Yeah?"

  "It was bad out there last night."

  "Tell me."

  He told her everything that had happened. When he finished, she reached out for him, and he could feel her trembling.

  He stroked her back. "I didn’t mean to frighten you with all that."

  "It’s okay. When I saw that look in your eyes tonight, I knew it must have been bad."

  "Looks like Wake’s going to be okay."

  "I’m glad."

  “I’ll have to live with causing him to get hurt."

  "Was it worth it? Don’t answer that. It was unfair to ask." She kissed him on the cheek. "I’m mad because you went out there in the woods when I asked you not to—when everybody warned you against it. But I know you did what you felt was right.”

  He ran his hand along her back, massaging her muscles. "You know when the worst part was while I was out there?"

  "When?"

  "When he sat down on the log, I thought I was going to die. I flashed ahead, not back. I saw all the years we wouldn’t have together, all the experiences we wouldn’t share, the kids we wouldn’t have, the talks we would miss."

  "Oh, Josh, I love you!"

  He pulled her close and kissed her. Her lips were so soft; he wanted to drown in them. He had never gotten past this stage with her, or with any girl. But on this night, something happened. It was like they weren’t two people anymore. For the past few weeks, since all the trouble with the railroad, they had been growing together. They could read each other’s thoughts. They could speak with their eyes, and it was unlike anything he had ever felt before. Now he pulled her over him and cupped her face in his hands. She was wearing her hair long tonight, and it fell down on each side of his face, backlit by the moon, so that it was like looking up through frost. She straddled him and pulled off her T-shirt.

  He reached behind her back and unsnapped her bra. He pulled her down to him and kissed her breasts. He broke the buttons on his shirt, trying to get it off. Then everything happened fast: Levis and Nikes went flying. He broke the elastic on her panties; then there were no obstacles, and he and Amy clung to each other, rolling over the golden buffalo on the blanket.

  "Wait!" he said. In a few seconds he tore open the package he had been keeping in his wallet and slipped on a condom. She guided him with her hands. For a panicky moment, he couldn’t break through. Then he lifted her legs and thrust hard. She cried out, and he was inside her.

  She was all contours and swells and wet warmth. They tried to go through each other. He felt her legs locked around him, and the pressure building inside him. He braced his arms under her legs and thrust deep inside her. The world centered in his loins; the building pressure felt like a truck shifting gears, driving up through him, then he arched his back and both he and Amy screamed.

  A covey of quail took off. He felt his heart about to explode. In that moment, when he was sweating and panting and feeling so wonderful he was sure he would die, he thought about the words from a song: we’re gonna ride till there ain’t no more to go...

  And so they did.

  Later he leaned back with her head resting on his chest. His heart still hammered. Or maybe it was hers. For the first time, he felt like more than one person. Whatever feelings they had before as individuals, they shared now. He remembered all the times he had wanted her. At first, just being around her had been enough. Then they found they could make each other laugh. They had became friends first. She would always be his best friend, even though they were lovers now. There was an intimacy in sharing their thoughts and dreams, and he was glad they had that first.

  "Amy?”

  "Yes.”

  "Why would anyone do drugs when they can have this?"

  "I don’t know."

  "What I’m feeling right now...I just want to put it in my heart and lock it up. When we’re old, I still want to feel this way.

  "Was it your first time too, Josh?"

  He smiled. "Thanks for having to ask. I’m glad it wasn’t obvious."

  She smiled and kissed him.

  He said, "I guess we’re behind everybody else. To hear the rest of ‘em talk...."

  "That’s okay. I know some of my girlfriends who did it just to...like get out of jail or something. They’re sorry now. They’ll never be able to look back and feel what we felt." She traced her finger over his chest. "I’m glad you’re still alive."

  "Me, too."

  They were quiet for a while. He listened to the frogs croaking out by the pond. A firefly winked by over them. Far off on Highway 70, a semi rounded a curve, the headlights sweeping an arc over the top of the oak. He felt sleepy, but his mind wouldn’t quit working. It wasn’t over out there in the woods. He had made a vow to himself: to help bring Gottschalk down. He remembered Ish Maytubby’s mangled body on the tracks, the look in Isaac’s eyes when he had told Josh about witchcraft, the strange smell out there in the woods. He had an idea about what was going on: all that money and power, the trips to the coasts, the Swiss bank accounts.

  "Amy?”

  "Yes?”

  "What does meth smell like?"

  "What?"

  "Meth. You know. Methamphetamine. Ice. Glass. Crystal. You’ve read all that stuff in the papers. I wonder what it smells like."

  She raised her head and looked at him. "Why should you care what it smells like, Josh." Then she tensed up. "Oh, Josh."

  He didn’t say anything.

  "Oh, Josh. Please, no."

  He pushed her head back down on his chest. "I was just wondering."

  He watched the clouds drifting by. A breeze had started bending the top of the oak, but it was a warm breeze. He felt sticky; loving was wonderful, but he would have liked to take a shower with her now. His mind drifted back to the plan that started forming earlier in the hospital.

  She raised her head. "You may as well tell me."

  “I have a plan."

  "I knew you would."

  "I just can’t give up, not after what I know."

  "Does it mean you have to go back into the woods?"

  He paused, stroking her hair. "It may come to that. But let me tell you what I’m thinking."

  "Okay.”

  "It came to me when I was talking to Isaac. I thought about how we had just used the Indians and taken them for granted. We’re all no better than Gottschalk on that. The Indians were here first, and we took this land from them. They have a heritage; we could learn from it. Don’t you think so?"

  "I guess so."

  "Well, I say let’s ask them for help."

  "Help? What kind of help?"

  "I want to convince my father and Wake McKenna to let me ask the Indians to put on a ceremony."

  "A ceremony? When?"

  "On the day we take the tourists on the tour to Hickory Creek Park. I want to ask the Indians to do one of their dances; every dance has an origin, a reason. We could learn from that."

  "How does all that fit into your plan?"

  "Well, first it helps the Indians and the railroad—we could pay them. And the tourists would love it. The park will benefit. The Indians will get a chance to show some of their heritage. Everybody wins."

  She looked him in the eye. "And...?"

  "And it might flush out Trace Gottschalk. There will be a lot of activity. He won’t like it, and he might make a move."

  “So?”

  "So if he’s moving...and there’s a lot of activity, then I might be able to sneak back into the woods and find the source of that smell. I have a feeling if I find that, I’ll fin
d the answer to a lot of things—past and present. And I might even be able to save lives.”

  "What about your life?"

  "I’ll be careful."

  She looked doubtful. "Your dad will never buy it. Not after what happened tonight."

  "My dad won’t know about the going into the woods part."

  "He’ll suspect something."

  Josh threw up his hands. "Amy! Quit fighting me. I’m asking for your support. Maybe you can put in a good word for the Indian dance idea when I bring it up."

  She sat up and put on her bra and T-shirt, then her jeans. "I won’t put in a good word when I know what you have in the back of your mind. The most I’ll promise is not to blow your cover. I don’t agree with this, Josh. If I lose you, I’ll never forgive myself. But if you convince your dad and Wake McKenna, then I’ll just shut up and go out there for the dance or whatever."

  "But you won’t go into the woods. Promise me."

  She gave him a hard look. "You like it both ways, don’t you. Double standard and all."

  "It’s not your fight, Amy."

  "Well, look who’s talking! I’m not convinced it’s your fight either. That’s what your dad has been saying all along, isn’t it?"

  He was silent. Life was complicated sometimes. Finally, it got down to making a choice and just doing it. "Whatever he’s said, I have to live with myself and my decision. I made a decision out there. I’m not changing it. With or without your support." He reached out and squeezed her hand. "But I love you, and I need your moral support."

  She sighed, leaned over and kissed him. "You’re so stubborn!"

  He kissed her. "I’ll need your help. First, we’ve got to get No. 88 ready, or there won’t be a Hickory Creek Excursion."

  "Well, I’m going to help you and Joe Buck tomorrow."

  Josh shook his head and smiled. "You’ve got Joe in your pocket."

  The moon had risen higher. Josh felt exhausted, and he didn’t want to think about the hard work ahead. They put on their sneakers and started to roll up the blanket. Amy’s mouth dropped open. "Oh! Look at your dad’s buffalo. On the blanket."

  "Oh, hell."

  "It looks like we...shot it, or something."