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Vengeance is Mine

Page 15

by Reavis Z. Wortham


  Mr. Tony ducked his head, embarrassed. “Sorry.”

  “No problem.” Uncle Cody steered us back into the middle of the creek. “You’ll get the next one.”

  We heard a deep croak. I found the next bullfrog with my light. “Right here.”

  Uncle Cody dipped his paddle again and we drifted toward the frog.

  “Like this?” Mr. Tony held the gig like a spear.

  “Whatever works for you.”

  “Letting one of these kids do it works for me.” With a grunt, he lunged with the gig again. “Got him!” He held the limp frog up high. “Now what?”

  I opened the wet ’toe sack. “Pass him back here.”

  Mr. Tony spun the gig so I could reach the frog. “This thing is nasty.”

  I grabbed the pole to steady it, and pulled the dead frog off the long tines. Pepper shifted on her seat to see around me. “You think frogs look nasty, wait’ll you see an old mud-cat.”

  Mr. Tony didn’t know what to say, but I knew he was trying to figure out what a mud-cat was. He beamed. “This is all right.”

  Uncle Cody pushed his Stetson back and laughed. “I knew you’d like it.” His face changed when he saw a second water moccasin unwrap itself from an overhanging limb. It took a looong time to slide into the water and swam ahead of us.

  Mr. Tony saw it and the next thing I knew, he was holding a .38 revolver.

  “Can you hit him with that?” Uncle Cody asked.

  It looked like Mr. Tony was surprised to find the gun in his hand. He hesitated. “Yeah.”

  “Well, shoot him them.”

  Me and Pepper kept the snake lit up. Without waiting, Mr. Tony straightened his arm and fired. A flame shot from the cylinder and the barrel. The bullet struck the snake about two inches from behind its head in an explosion of water.

  Uncle Cody whistled. “Damn, that was good shooting.”

  Mr. Tony nodded. “I used to practice a lot out in the desert.”

  “Well, it paid off.”

  “I don’t like snakes.”

  “Neither do we.”

  I saw Pepper shudder. She hates snakes with a passion. “You can kill all of them you want.”

  He slipped the revolver back into his pocket and transferred the gig into his right hand. “That was fun. Who’s next?”

  I held out my hand. “Me.”

  Instead of changing places, I moved up beside Mr. Tony and got ready. In the next half hour, we drifted downstream, adding one frog after another to the sack. Pepper wasn’t interested in gigging, which was fine by me.

  Uncle Cody steered us into the middle of the channel. “Kids, I’m afraid we won’t recognize this creek in a few years. That new dam’ll choke the water off and we’ll only get to float when they open the gates after it rains.”

  Pepper’s flashlight beam skipped across the bank and through the dark trees. “Grandpa hates the idea of that lake.”

  I hated the idea of it killing this creek, myself.

  A few minutes later, we drifted through the Rock Hole. I shined my flashlight up on the tall sandstone cliff jutting high overhead on our right. Then I moved it to the other side and the shallow bank where The Skinner kept me and Pepper tied up when he took us. It was the first time we’d been back since that stormy night.

  I shivered.

  Pepper clammed up and when the silence got to her, switched her radio back on. I didn’t recognize the song, but it didn’t matter, because I wasn’t listening anyway. Uncle Cody paddled hard to get us out of there and the old swimming hole disappeared into the gloom.

  Mr. Tony noticed something was different, but he didn’t say anything.

  Uncle Cody rapped on the side of the aluminum boat. “Knock knock.”

  I knew what he was trying to do. “Who’s there?”

  “Madam.”

  “Madam who?”

  “Open up. Ma-dam foot got caught in the door!”

  It wasn’t real cussing, but it was enough to break our sad spell. We kept floating and telling knock knock jokes until we came up on a tree laying across the creek. The low banks held the trunk only inches above the water.

  “Well, hell.” Uncle Cody let us drift up parallel to the trunk. “We’re gonna have to climb out and drag the boat over to the other side.”

  Mr. Tony rested his hand on the rough bark. “It doesn’t look too stable.”

  “It’ll hold us. Pepper, shine your light over there.” Uncle Cody put his hand over hers and directed the beam onto a mass of roots still anchored in the ground. He followed the trunk to the other side. “This thing is as solid as a bridge.” He grabbed a stout limb. “Okay kids. Y’all climb up and get a good hold out of the way. Shut off them lights and you’ll be able to see and still keep your hands free.”

  He was right. In no time our eyes adjusted enough to climb out of the boat and work our way onto the log. I didn’t stand up. Instead, I straddled it like a saddle and took the sack of frogs from Uncle Cody. Pepper scrambled up beside me like a monkey and squatted on the log to show she wasn’t scared of falling off.

  Mr. Tony was next. I shifted out of the way. One tall limb stuck straight up in the air, so he climbed out of the boat and stood beside it, holding onto it like a fencepost.

  Uncle Cody was last. He handed me the paddle and carefully pulled himself out of the boat to sit astraddle of the log like me. I looked up to see limbs and dying leaves towering overhead in the bright moonlight. “Now, we’ll pull the boat over onto the other side and climb back in.”

  The boat was halfway out of the water when everything went to pieces.

  Standing above me, Mr. Tony jumped and reached for his collar. “Snake! Snake! Snake fell down my back!”

  He was twisting and twitching in horror. It looked like Pepper’s new dancing style. The worst thing I could imagine had happened, a water moccasin falling down someone’s shirt to bite him over and over. I did the only thing I could do. I swung the paddle one-handed against Mr. Tony’s back, hoping to kill the snake so it couldn’t bite him any more than it already had.

  With one hand, the blow wasn’t hard, but he turned and it caught him in the stomach making him double over with a whoosh of air.

  “Goddlemighty!” Uncle Cody let go of the boat and barely managed to catch Mr. Tony’s collar to keep him from falling in. The boat landed with a splash, upside down.

  It was all too much for Pepper. Terrified of snakes, she jumped into the water to get away from what she probably imagined was a tree full of cottonmouth moccasins.

  “Well. Shit!” The radio in her pocket immediately went silent, emphasizing the nighttime sounds around the creek. I looked over to see my cousin standing in the chest-deep water and holding onto a limb.

  Uncle Cody grabbed Mr. Tony’s shirt and gave it a yank, pulling it out of his britches. When he did, it was bright enough to see a lizard plop down onto the tree trunk beside me before it skittered away.

  We were all silent for a long moment, and then Uncle Cody started laughing. It looked like Mr. Tony thought about it, and then he joined in. Before long, we were all laughing at Mr. Tony’s lizard.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Ned had a couple of hours to kill while Cody and the kids gigged frogs with Tony. The take-out point wasn’t that far away, but the bends and twists in the creek stretched their float to a country mile. Instead of going back home, he steered toward Gene Stark’s house not far off Razor Road. His brother’s murder had been worrying Ned, because none of it made any sense.

  Though Tommy Lee was pretty much a no’count in the community, to Ned’s knowledge he hadn’t done anything bad enough to get shot in the head for. He figured to spend a little time visiting with Gene. Maybe he’d say something to give Ned a clue as to where to look next. The old constable was running out of ideas, and didn’t have lead one to follow.


  Ned took his time driving between the moonlit fields and pastures of the river bottoms, enjoying the night and familiar scents of earth, vegetation, and leftover cotton poison. With the windows open, Ned followed his headlights through the darkness, driving with his left elbow hanging out the window.

  His mind was in neutral, sifting through dusty files of information, when his headlights lit up the reflectors on a car parked off the dirt road. He slowed, flicked on the red spotlight mounted on the door post beside the windshield, and painted the car with the strong light.

  The 1954 Dodge Coronet was empty, but a flicker of motion beside the stock tank on the other side of the vehicle caught his attention. He twisted the handle and moved the light in time to catch a flash of white slipping down below the water’s surface. A second flash of well-developed white ducked down to join the first as he passed.

  Ned braked, shifted into reverse, and backed up past a two-track dirt cut-off leading to the stock pond. Stopping beside an unfamiliar car, he maneuvered the strong beam beyond the open barbed-wire gate and onto two heads that seemed to be floating in the pond.

  Ned checked the area. Insects fluttered in the light. The Dodge was empty. Clothes were scattered across the hood.

  With the red spotlight fixed on the surface of the water, he left the car and flicked on his heavy silver flashlight. He was startled to see the heads belonged to females. “How’s the water?”

  Both women used a hand to shade their eyes from the white light. The squinting brunette beamed him with a smile. “Feels good, but it’s a little thick.”

  “That don’t surprise me none. You’re swimmin’ in a mud hole, you know. I ain’t in the habit of talking to two heads floating on the water, not without knowing who they are.”

  “Can you lower that light a little? We’ve been out here for a while and you’re blinding us.”

  Ned tilted the beam to illuminate a stack of empty Jax cans.

  “Now, would you move to your left a little bit,” the brunette asked, “to block that spotlight?”

  When Ned shifted, the brunette raised up until her shoulders were above the water. “Thanks. My name’s Pearl.”

  More creamy white reflecting the moonlight told Ned they’d been hunkering in the water because they weren’t wearing bathing suits.

  The blonde stood a little higher, too. “I’m Liz.”

  “Good to meet you, Liz and Pearl. Do you know whose pool you’re in?”

  They exchanged looks. “Not really. We’re not from around here.”

  “That’s about the only thing I know right now.” Ned tilted his hat back and shined the flashlight onto the badge pinned to his shirt. “I’m the constable here in Center Springs, and y’all probably need to know that Frank Suttle won’t be expecting two nekked women to be out here in his pool, scaring his cattle who probably need a drink right about now.”

  Liz tilted her head. “How do you know we’re nekked?”

  He jerked the beam toward the pile of clothes on the hood and half a dozen more empty Jax cans. “It’s a good guess, I ’spect, from what there is to see.”

  “What’s your name?” Pearl asked. They alternated in the conversation, giving Ned a good idea that the two had been running together for a long time, if they weren’t sisters.

  “Ned Parker. Constable Ned Parker.”

  It was Liz’s turn again. “Good lord. Somebody’s done called the law on us. I’ve heard of you, but I thought you’d be a lot younger.”

  “That’d be Cody. He’s constable, too. Now, what are y’all doing out here in this water?”

  Both women were standing higher as they talked. Even poorly lit, their shoulders glowed red, indicating they’d been in the sun for a long time. The muddy water barely covered their breasts, and Ned had a hard time keeping his eyes and the flashlight beam where they belonged.

  Pearl’s hand shaded her eyes. “We’re from Dallas.”

  Liz took over. “We’re staying at Gene Stark’s house right over there. We heard that Tommy Lee got killed, and came to see if we could help Gene in any way.”

  “Um hum. And did Gene have anything for you to do?”

  “Sure did!” Liz laughed. “We’ve been doing it all afternoon.”

  “Gurrrlll,” Pearl cautioned. “What she means is that we cleaned his house for him, and then we all came down here for a swim after dinner and wound up staying. We both blistered, and Gene left a little while ago to go across the river and get us some more beer. Somebody drank all we had.” They laughed. “I wish he could drive into town and get some Unguentine, but it’s too damn late. We been staying here in the water while he’s gone, ’cause it’s cool and that helps take out the sting.”

  “Spirits of camphor’ll take the heat out, but Resinol salve works, too.”

  “I’ve never heard that. Mr. Ned, you better shine that flashlight beam a little higher.”

  With a start, he realized the girls were standing completely upright in the waist deep water. He quickly moved the beam once again. “All right, y’all need to get on out of there and go someplace else, to Gene’s, or home, I don’t care, but you can’t stay out there.”

  They waded toward him.

  “Whoa! Y’all wait till I’m gone, and then git.”

  Ned went back to his car and heard them splash onto the bank. “Y’all don’t forget to close this gate back and wire it shut,” he called over his shoulder. “I don’t want to get a call later tonight from Frank telling me his cows are out and to come here after ’em.”

  “We will.”

  When he slammed the door, switched off the spotlight, and started the engine, Ned caught a glimpse of the women in the bright moonlight.

  Making sure they were unarmed, he shifted into gear and left with a wave.

  ***

  Ned’s headlights led him down the dirt road past Love Thicket. Straight rows of harvested corn ran right up against a line of thick trees that trimmed the edge of a small trickle of water. The road bent, following a patchwork quilt of different-sized fields.

  When the beams swept across a patch of winter wheat, half a dozen pairs of eyes glowed. The deer raised their heads to watch the car pass, and then resumed grazing. Ned slowed for a plank bridge, and the road paralleled another stand of trees. Once again, an unnatural glint in the darkness caught his attention.

  He backed up, and aimed his spotlight toward the base of a tree, lighting two men that he recognized immediately. One waved, and they made their way through a tangle of blackberry vines to the side of the car.

  “Howdy, Mr. Ned.” Jimmy Foxx stepped across the strong beam. His waders were muddy up to his knees. “What are you doing down here this time a’night?”

  A quick jolt of dread made Ned feel sick, making him wonder if the brothers, though good friends of his, were the ones who might have accidentally, or otherwise, killed Tommy Lee Stark.

  Rifle over his shoulder, Ty Cobb joined them. “Howdy, Ned.”

  “What are you boys doing?”

  Ty Cobb jerked a thumb at the silver moon. “Perfect night for coon huntin’, but I’ll be damned if I know where the dogs are. They been trailing an old boar coon, but then they got away from us and I ain’t heard ’em bark in half an hour.”

  “The hell of it is, we got one treed in this pin oak back here, but neither one of us can get a shot.” Jimmy Foxx spread his hands.

  The absence of dogs worried Ned. “How’d you tree a coon by yourselves?” The boys laughed so casually he felt a little better.

  Ty Cobb pointed his flashlight toward the tree. “The last time we heard the dogs barking was in this direction, so we hoofed it over from Love Thicket and saw a tree limb shake. When I shined my light up there, a coon blinked at me. Ain’t that hell? We’re better coon dogs than our coon dogs.”

  “That’s the way it is sometimes.” Ned wave
d an annoying mosquito away. “I never did ask you boys, were y’all out huntin’ the day Tommy Lee Stark got killed?”

  They shook their heads in synchronization. Ty Cobb spoke up. “Ned, that was one of the few days when we weren’t out. Dumbass here cut hisself on a bobwire fence so bad I had to take him in to see old Doc Heinz. He sewed his arm up and made him take a tetanus shot.”

  “That damn thing hurt worse than the cut or the stitches.” Jimmy Foxx pulled up his shirtsleeve to show Ned the long, barely healed gash near his left armpit.

  “What’d you do, rassle with the fence?”

  He gave Ned a wry grin. “Naw, I’s climbing one running along the top of a gully over in the army camp. My feet slipped, I fell straight down, and it raked my arm open.”

  Ty Cobb cocked an ear away from the car to listen for his dogs. “We hadn’t no more than got back when Isaac Reader came and saw us up at the store and told us Gene was looking for his brother, so we joined in.”

  Before Ned could answer, Jimmy Foxx held up one hand. “Lissen.” The sound of barking dogs echoed through the woods. “There’s your dumbass coon dogs.”

  “I done heard ’em before you,” Ty Cobb nudged his brother, “and half of ’em’s yours, to boot.”

  “You didn’t do no such of a thing. I heard ’em first.”

  It was hard to tell how far off the dogs were, but their baying quickly increased in volume, growing stronger and clearer as they approached. Feeling better, Ned shifted into gear. “They’re probably after that coon y’all already treed.”

  The brothers laughed and stepped back. “Don’t run over ’em if they cross the road.”

  Ned waved, and drove off.

  ***

  A pair of headlights met him a mile down the dirt road. “I-god, these bottoms are busy tonight.” Ned shook his head at the amount of traffic in the river bottoms when, in his opinion, everyone should be home in bed. He steered to the side and waited. When the other car slowed, Ned’s red light lit the face of Gene Stark, who grinned and waved. He pulled up door-to-door so they could speak between the cars.

  “Howdy, Mr. Ned. What are you doing down here at night?”

 

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