Sunshine Walkingstick Omnibus

by Celia Roman

  Ten minutes later, I was out the door and headed toward Jazz and BobbiJean’s in Daddy’s IROC. The radio was silent, a fit accompaniment for the frazzled nerves the old man left in his wake. By the time I arrived, I was calm enough to breathe deep of the autumn air and appreciate the musty leaf aroma mingling with fresh water and warm sunshine.

  Jazz come to the back fence and waved at me. “You gonna sit in that car all day?”

  I grinned and got out of the IROC, and laughed out loud when I finally figured out what was painted over ever square inch of his coveralls. “I thought you got portraying men’s unmentionables outta your system ‘long about high school.”

  He winked a deep set eye. “Some stuff never goes outta style, Sunny girl. Come on back. We been hit again.”

  I sighed and shook my head, and skirted a fresh stacked pile of scrap metal. “What’s this? Reinforcement for the fence?”

  “I wish. Don’t matter what I do. A hen or more disappears ever night. Won’t have none left by the wedding day, this keeps up.”

  He opened the gate for me and stood back while I entered. The chicken coop drew my eye right away. How could it not? The wire what’d been so tidy and neat on my last visit was mangled and folded back on itself like angel’s wings along a demon’s back. A handful of laying hens scratched dirt in the garden proper, clucking at the earth as they feasted on worms and grubs and no telling what else.

  “Any sign of what’s doing it?” I asked.

  “Nary a one.” Jazz yanked a tattered hanky outta his back coverall pocket and swiped it across his nose. “BobbiJean heard a scream last night, long about two in the morning. Woke her up, then she heard the chickens in an uproar and rolled over and woke me up. Found the coop like that, all tore up, so I got my shotgun and kept watch ‘til the sun rose good.”

  “How many was gone?”

  “Just two this time.”

  “Two’s enough, ain’t it?”

  I sighed and walked closer, planting booted feet where they’d do the least damage. Like before, human footprints mucked up any potential sign of animal tracks. I searched anyhow and combed over the churned up ground twice before I was satisfied nothing was there.

  “Find anything?” Jazz asked.

  A hint of hope tinged his baritone voice. I glanced away, hating like the devil to have to crush it. My gaze passed right over a depression in the grass outside the fence. I zeroed in on it, edged closer, and bent down. The area was big, say the size of a really large dog. Blood sprayed across the dying verge, like it’d been slung.

  I sat back on my haunches and considered the scene. Something snuck under the fence and broke into the coop, caught one of the chickens and brung it here, then shook it to death while its teeth sunk deep into the chicken’s throat.

  Something big, or maybe two smaller somethings.

  Warwoman was a far piece from the Kildares, though. Surely Ol’ Blue and Lady wouldn’ta wandered that far afield.

  “What is it, Sunny girl?” Jazz asked, and I waved a hand at him, shushing him without turning ‘round. Billy Kildare’s dog was missing. Weren’t like a coon dog to chase after chickens, far as I knowed, but a desperate dog was the same as any animal. Food was food, if it was hungry enough, and with two mouths to feed, assuming Ol’ Blue run off with the neighbor’s pooch, them chickens was a mighty tempting treat.

  I slapped my palms against my thighs and stood, then scouted to the creek and around the banks. Feathers was still stuck in the tree bark on the opposite side. This time, I remembered to bring dry shoes, socks, and a towel. Without a second thought, I bent down, untied my boots, and toed ‘em off, then shucked my socks and tucked ‘em into the boots. I unfastened the scabbard holding Daddy’s hunting knife to my ankle, stuck it down with the socks, and rolled my jeans up to mid-calf.

  They was probably gonna get wet anyhow, but I reckoned I should at least make the minimal effort to keep ‘em dry. Weren’t nothing like walking around in soggy jeans on a crisp autumn day to vex a body good.

  As an afterthought, I tugged the knife outta its scabbard and clasped its bone hilt in my fist, then gingerly crept down the bank to the water’s edge through thick grown weeds. My feet sank into cold mud, and I grimaced. Sometimes, this job weren’t all it was cracked up to be.

  But cold mud weren’t cold water. The creek was narrow, no more’n five feet at its widest, and clear under the dappled shade of the trees standing sentinel along the edges. I sucked in a sharp breath, stepped right into the swift flowing water, and yelped. The water was frigid as ice. I slipped and slid fast as I could across slick rocks buried under its surface, but my skin was still numb by the time I leapt onto the opposite bank and scrambled up the steep, muddy slope to the dry grass beyond.

  Danged if I weren’t gonna double my fee for this job. Three dozen fresh-laid eggs orta do the trick, assuming I caught whatever was eating the chickens before they all got et.

  I wedged the feathers outta the bark, stepped into the sunlight streaming down on the neighbor’s back yard, and slowly twirled ‘em between my fingers. No blood, but that weren’t unusual. Probably got caught as the culprit leapt outta the stream, the same way I done. I released the feathers into a light breeze and looked around. The yard was tidy and neat, a scant day past being raked clean of leaves, which was just too bad. Mighta been some clues hid in autumn’s debris what coulda pointed me in the right direction.

  I scouted up and down the creek bank on this side for a good piece in either direction and found not a trace of whatever carried the chickens off. No hindrance on this side in the way of fences and whatnot. Likely, if the chickens wasn’t eat right off, and it didn’t look to me like they was, the culprit woulda trotted right on through the neighbor’s yard and into the deep wood beyond.

  I eyed the forest’s edge for a long while, contemplating options, and squinted near the sun for good measure. It was halfway down the sky, well past its midday zenith and far too close to the mountain tops for my peace of mind. Best thing to do was to come back early one morning, park in the neighbor’s drive, with their permission, and scout my way through the woods along whatever animal or other trails cut through there.

  Decision made, I retraced my steps, held my breath through the icy creek, and retrieved my boots and sundries from the creek bank.

  Jazz was leaning against the fence waiting for me. “Now Sunny girl, me and BobbiJean hired you to look after the chickens, not take a bath in the creek.”

  I shot him a sour glance and otherwise ignored his wisecracking hide. “I’m gonna come back in a day or two and search the woods.”

  “Well, damn,” he said, and stood up. “I hoped you’d figure out what was doing this so we could catch it and be done.”

  Billy Kildare’s coon dog sprung to mind. I knuckled my forehead, remembered the knife in my hand, and stuck it back in its scabbard. “I got some ideas, but it’s early yet. Meantime, you might wanna use that scrap metal to reinforce your coop.”

  “Jesus, Sunny,” Jazz breathed, and I grinned and invited myself in for a hot cup of tea and a round of fresh gossip.

  I took the roundabout way home and stopped by David’s to run the idea of a fall party by him. His car was gone and the house was locked up tight. I checked all the doors and what windows I could, doing my neighborly part in case he forgot to secure something, but they was all closed tight as a drum. Even the boathouse had a deadbolt on its doors.

  Why hadn’t he said something to me about leaving town when we was out riding the other day?

  I shook off my worry and vowed to call him in a few days, just to check in and make sure he was ok. I had a sneaky suspicion he weren’t, but what could I do about it from here when he done disappeared without a word to the wise?

  I scrounged around in the IROC for a slip of scratch paper and a pen, jotted a note letting him know I dropped by looking for him, and stuck it in the space between the door and the doorjamb, right where he’d be sure to see it first thing. I left feeling l
ike I hadn’t done near enough where he was concerned, and knowing I couldn’ta done no more’n I had.

  Chapter Six

  Two weeks passed quick as lightning. The day after my last visit, I drove over to Jazz and BobbiJean’s neighbor’s house and scouted the woods. Couldn’t find hide nor hair of them chickens, nor young Billy’s coon dog, neither one. No trace of nothing, as a matter of fact, including sign of other animals or another possible culprit in the chickens’ disappearances.

  Things quieted down after that. I checked in with BobbiJean ever coupla days, but the coop was silent as a church mouse in the dead of night and intact when the sun rose ever morn.

  Business dried up somewhat, new cases anyhow. I kept snooping around old Aunt Sadie’s house and made a right good effort to find the missing dogs, including another scouting trip into the deep wood.

  Nothing.

  In the load of downtime I was blessed with, I finished studying the accounting textbook, started reading up on creating a business plan, and scrubbed the trailer from top to bottom and stem to stern in between.

  Riley’s work was still going strong, but ever spare minute he had, seemed like, he was underfoot with some new scheme or other. We drove up to Cade’s Cove in Eastern Tennessee after church one Sunday and got caught in the leaf traffic.

  It was real pleasant. Only once was I tempted to roll down the window and holler at some tourist for stopping in the middle of the road to take a dadgum picture of a leaf. Riley near about done it for me the second time a car in front of us slowed down and veered off the road without using a turn signal.

  Another time, we hit the flea market in Rabun Gap and challenged each other to find the tackiest item there. He beat my buried treasure, a hand-painted Hawaiian shirt replete with multiple Elvises in miniature, with his find, a crocheted sleeve for a dachshund what bore a striking resemblance to a woman’s privates.

  Jazz probably had a hand in that’un.

  If local folks was surprised to see me and Riley out and about, it didn’t show. They nodded and smiled and chitchatted with us like it weren’t no big deal for a Treadwell and a Carson to break bread together, let alone hold hands amongst a crowd of strangers.

  ‘Long and along, the wedding rolled around, and by then, I was ready for a stiff dose of action. Riley picked me up on Halloween night wearing a subtly woven brown, red, and gold plaid tweed sports coat over dark brown, sturdy slacks. He took one look at my dress and whistled long and low.

  I curtsied, an easy enough trick in my boots. “You like?”

  “Oh, yeah,” he said. “Turn around real slow.”

  I huffed out an exasperated breath, then turned around, showing off the front and back of my black Goth dress. It was fitted in the bodice and hips, then flared in asymmetrical, layered hems around my knees. The sleeves was fitted to the elbow, then widened into huge, trailing lengths of sheer fabric at my wrists. The front was cut low, ending its vee-neck around the top of my non-existent cleavage. I covered the bared skin with a handful of long necklaces picked up on the cheap at the Mall of Georgia. Missy’s ring, normally worn ‘round my neck the way she done, I left in my jewelry box. The back of the dress plunged down to just above my bra. Weren’t no covering that without ruining the line of the dress, which I figured I’d do anyhow with a jacket long about sundown when the air nipped and chilled.

  “BobbiJean helped me pick it out.” I turned all the way around, facing him again, and stuck one foot out, showing off my spit-shined boots. “She said since it was Halloween and Jazz was gonna be Jazz, it was ok for the guests to show up in costume.”

  “Well, you’re the first Cherokee woman I’ve ever seen wearing black lipstick.” Riley cupped his hands over my hips, leaned down, and brushed his cheek against mine. “Can I nibble it off during the first dance?”

  I smacked his chest playful like, then rested my hands there and fiddled with the lapels of his sports coat. “You’re all spiffied up.”

  “Not too much, baby,” he said, and his voice was low and hoarse and a little ragged. “How about we start the nibbling now?”

  “Only if you want me to punch you,” I said, but my own voice come out well shy of the tart I was aiming for.

  I rounded up a change of clothes and a jacket, along with the two quarts of home-brewed corn liquor Fame sent down by Gentry for the festivities and a proper present for the happy couple. Riley drove with the understanding that I’d drive back so he could sneak out and sip hooch with the boys. I didn’t mind. Fame’s moonshine went well beyond my tolerance for liquor. A coupla sips done me in ever time. Reckon that’s what I got for being so dadgum scrawny.

  The ceremony was being held at a property owned by one of Jazz’s cousins up in Dillard, alongside a picturesque, gently descending series of waterfalls. When Riley pulled up, guests was mingling among the hay bales arranged in rows in front of a laurel arch decorated in silk autumn leaves colored red, gold, and green. Pumpkins of all sorts was stacked here and there in large piles, intermingled with gourds fresh and dried. A local band was already set up on the makeshift stage fronted by a row of jack o’ lanterns wearing an assorted variety of faces from sweet to demonic. As we got out, somebody was going from one carved shell to the next lighting candles hid deep inside.

  We wedged ourselves into a spot halfway back from the arch, sandwiched between a couple in their Sunday best and another dressed as matching scarecrows. I listened with half an ear to the soft conversations whirling around us whilst Riley chitchatted with the guy in front of him, an acquaintance from work, I gathered.

  “…saw a mountain lion down on Germany,” the guy said.

  My attention perked up. I leaned into Riley a mite, trying hard not to be too obvious about eavesdropping.

  “Seriously?” Riley said. “When?”

  “About two weeks ago. Said it was the biggest one they’d ever seen.” Something off to the side drawed the man’s gaze. He lowered his voice and added, “I went down Patterson Gap Road and searched for that dead panther. Couldn’t find it.”

  I frowned. Me and David marked that spot well. Shoulda been pretty obvious where it was to anybody familiar with the area.

  Riley shrugged. “Maybe another animal dragged it off to eat.”

  “Probably. Hey, but let me know if you hear of another large cat around here. We’re tracking them…”

  I tuned their conversation out and chewed over the news just imparted. Wouldn’t a scavenger eat the painter where it lay soon as it was found, instead of running the risk of something bigger and meaner coming along and claiming the feast?

  The preacher come out right then decked out in a Catholic priest getup, earning a spatter of laughter amongst the crowd what knowed him to be Presbyterian. Jazz stepped up wearing a surprisingly well-fitting black tuxedo with tails and nary a spot of paint, though he sported a rainbow colored wig over his normally untidy locks.

  The bridal march floated through the air, and finally, out walked BobbiJean holding her daddy’s elbow in one hand and a dahlia bouquet in the other. She and Jazz glanced at each other, and it was like watching the rest of the world fall away, the love was so deep in their eyes.

  Envy speared into me and I looked down at my knees. Some folks, like Jazz and BobbiJean, was destined to find everlasting love, and some folks wasn’t. I knowed exactly which camp I fell into.

  Riley snuck an arm around me and squeezed me close. I swallowed down the self-pity eating away at me and focused on my friends’ happiness. It was Halloween, my best feller was by my side, and two of the kindest people I ever met was getting married. Them was good reasons to enjoy the moment whilst it was upon me.

  The ceremony was beautiful, maybe because it was so unique. The preacher said his piece, then Jazz recited a lyrical poem he wrote, and BobbiJean simply said, “I’m gonna love you forever, James David Pruitt, but if you don’t start picking up your socks, there’s gonna be hell to pay.”

  Ever body laughed as Jazz swooped BobbiJean up and sw
ung her around, mouth firmly planted on hers, then the preacher pronounced them husband and wife, and before I knowed it, I was on my feet laughing and hollering and clapping right along with ever other body there.

  The band struck up a saucy tune soon as Jazz and BobbiJean walked down the hay bale sided aisle, and Riley introduced me to his friend as night swooped down and kissed us with its grace.

  Soon as the happy couple finished walking down the aisle hand in hand, the band switched to a sappy tune about love and life and happy ever after. Riley excused us to his friend, then led me over to the packed earth dance floor and swung me into his arms.

  “I’ve been waiting for this moment all week long,” he said.

  I snickered. “Yeah, right. More like you been waiting for the hooch to be passed around.”

  “That, too.” He tightened his grip on my waist and inched me closer. “I like holding you.”

  What a coincidence. I liked holding him, too. He towered over me tonight like always. His auburn topped head nearly brushed the sky from my lowly perspective. I placed a hand over his heart, over all the good accumulated during his life, and measured the steady thump of it against my own.

  “What are you thinking?”

  His voice was low and husky, and oddly arousing. I shook my head, maybe to disrupt the feelings I got ever time he was near, maybe ‘cause I didn’t know what was going on in my own noggin.

  “It’s ok,” he whispered. “We don’t have to talk.”

  And we didn’t, through that song and the next as he inched me closer and closer under the cover of the music and the people dancing around us, cuddled up under the starry sky the same way we was.

  At the beginning of the third song, a tanned hand tapped Riley’s shoulder and an accented male voice said, “This dance is promised to me.”

  Riley glanced around, and I got a good look at the interruption. Teus stood behind him dressed in what passed for casual among the deity set, I supposed, a long-sleeved, dark blue polo and khakis.