The Lost Ones

by Ace Atkins

  Donnie outstretched his arms and looked deep into the dark woods behind the trucks, saying a silent prayer for Jesus Christ to please forgive an unforgivable stupid bastard like him. Ain’t no sense to it, doesn’t make it right, but Christ forgive me.

  He closed his eyes in that hole, body jumping a bit when he heard that pop-pop-pop.

  Donnie opened his eyes just as Alejandro fell in beside him.

  He stared up at the kid shooter. Each of the big Mexes flanked him. One of the men outstretched his hand to Donnie and said, “Vamos. Vamos. Estás vivo.”

  The big fella lifted him out of the hole while the other hoisted that big sack of lime up in his arms and dug into it with a pocketknife, coating Alejandro’s face and tattooed body. Alejandro’s mouth was open, and the white powder filled it and streamed over his eyes and head. The man threw the empty sack in the grave, and the other walked into the woods, still lit up with truck light, and retrieved the shovel. He started to fill it in.

  Donnie’s body felt bright and raw, his mind shocked back to hell.

  “¿Por qué? That means ‘Why,’ right? ¿Por qué?”

  That little skinny kid with the nothing mustache stared at him and pointed down the long stretch of dirt road. A red truck bumped over the ruts, dual lights shining into the nothingness of the woods, and then darkness again. The door opened and slammed shut, and a shadowed figure walked in front of the headlights.

  “You are filthy.”

  Luz smiled at him as that shovel kept scooping earth and filled in that big ole hole.

  40

  JASON WAS OUT OF SCHOOL ON MONDAY, AND QUINN INVITED CADDY TO bring him to the farm that morning to kick around since they’d missed their weekend together. The day was cold and gray and harsh, speaking of the long winter to come. Quinn planned on building a fire down in the fire pit and asked Caddy if she’d like to stay. He said he and Jason liked to cook breakfast on a skillet and sit out and talk in his field. Caddy smiled, seeming nervous and curious, and decided that would work fine.

  Jason helped him gather the wood from fallen limbs and branches and tossed them into a pit surrounded by old stones from the house’s original chimney. Caddy had brought from the kitchen an old black skillet that had been their Aunt Halley’s and a loaf of bread, bacon, and eggs. When the fire got going good, Quinn set the skillet on a flat stone and waited for it to heat.

  “You always liked to cook for me,” Caddy said. “Always liked to cook outdoors.”

  “I prefer being outside,” Quinn said. “Jason is pretty much the same. Did I tell you what a good fisherman he is? He can’t help it. A natural.”

  Jason turned around with a smirking smile and turned back to the fire. He walked away from the ring searching for more branches.

  “I also heard you let him shoot some,” Caddy said.

  “Just BB guns.”

  “He’s not even four.”

  “He wanted to use the bow and arrow,” Quinn said. “But I put my foot down. Next year, I’ll teach him to drive my truck and pick up women.”

  Caddy cut her eyes at him but smiled, sitting in an Adirondack chair he’d set by the fire, legs tucked under an old horse blanket. Quinn stepped up to the firestone, feeling the heat rising from the skillet, warming his hands.

  “You used to make pancakes,” she said.

  Quinn peered up and set some bacon in the skillet, the fat starting to slowly crackle and pop. Jason joined them at the stone ring again, tossing small limbs and fallen branches into the center. He smiled as they caught to flame and walked backward, stumbling into his mother’s knees. She scooped him up and tucked him under the blanket, covering him up all warm to the neck.

  Quinn turned the bacon with a long fork and sat down in an identical chair next to Caddy, stretching out his legs. Somehow the grayish day didn’t seem to matter around the fire. He had his cell phone in case he was needed before his late shift. Or if Dinah called about Donnie or joining him for a Colson family meal.

  “Might have some company at dinner Wednesday.”

  “The redhead?” Caddy asked.

  “Her name is Dinah.”

  “Not a lot of kids named Dinah these days,” Caddy said. “Old-fashioned. But pretty.”

  Quinn nodded, stood, and turned the bacon again.

  “Of course, Anna Lee has the most old-fashioned name I’ve ever heard,” Caddy said.

  Quinn cracked some eggs in the skillet, bubbling and popping.

  “She’s due real soon,” Caddy said.

  “I saw.”

  “I’m sorry, Quinn.”

  “About what?”

  “Guess it doesn’t matter now.”

  Jason craned his neck to watch the bacon and eggs. He was enjoying the fire, not listening to his mother or uncle.

  “I’m glad you’re back, Caddy,” Quinn said. “Hope you stay.”

  Caddy didn’t look at him, but he could see her face light up. She tickled Jason under the blanket. “I was up till two last night,” Caddy said. “Momma is already planning Christmas.”

  “So you’ll be here?” Quinn asked.

  “I don’t have any plans other than find a job. Problem is that this county doesn’t seem to have any other than waitress or secretary or homemaker.”

  Quinn squatted by the fire, flipping the bacon one last time, and pulled off a few pieces onto a plate. He dropped in a slice of butter and added a couple pieces of thick-cut bread to make some Texas toast.

  “I’m glad you’re staying,” Quinn said as he slipped off a fried egg onto the plate and browned the toast. He handed the plate to Jason, and he and Caddy ate together. The coffee got going good, and Quinn strained the grounds for a cup, checking out the sky, wondering about rain and slick roads. There would be accidents today. More reports and work.

  Quinn had settled into his chair with his coffee and plate when he saw Lillie’s Jeep appear over the hill by the old farmhouse. She walked toward them and waved from far off. Jason turned over Caddy’s shoulder, smiling at her, yelling, “Miss Lillie.”

  “You can’t beat them off with a stick, can you?” Caddy said, whispering.

  “Lillie and I do work together.”

  “You got lots to learn, brother.”

  Quinn put down his plate and walked out to meet Lillie with coffee in hand, well out of earshot of Caddy and Jason, still huddled by the fire.

  “Something smells good,” Lillie said.

  “How about some eggs?”

  She shook her head.

  “What’s up?” Quinn asked.

  “Miss McCullough called me out to the house because she said someone stole her car keys.”

  “They on the hook?”

  “You’ve done this before.”

  Quinn nodded.

  “How’d yesterday shake out?” Lillie asked.

  Quinn looked over his shoulder at Caddy and Jason. Caddy waved over to Lillie, and Lillie waved back.

  “It’s time for Donnie to come to Jesus,” Quinn said.

  “You told her?”

  “Did I have a choice?” Quinn said. “I’m lucky she didn’t charge me with obstruction.”

  “Shit,” Lillie said. “She don’t want to obstruct you for nothing.”

  Quinn opened his mouth and closed it. He eyed Lillie and shook his head.

  “Coffee?”

  She nodded and walked in step with him down the hill to the fire. Quinn tossed out the rest of his coffee and poured her a fresh cup in the same mug. He added a couple sugars, knowing how Lillie liked it. She took the coffee and thanked him, making herself comfortable in his chair.

  “I saw her yesterday,” Lillie said.

  “Who?” Quinn said.

  “The little girl,” Lillie said. “Caddy, did Quinn tell you about the baby I found? There were eleven of them. All precious, but this one little girl came right to me. She was in a crib, hands reaching up, and just clung right to my neck, like she was waiting for us. She didn’t cry or nothing. Just settled right into
my body under my coat.”

  Quinn put his boot to the edge of the fire ring and looked from Lillie to Caddy.

  “You must feel like that all the time,” Lillie said, face flushing right after the words left her mouth.

  Caddy saw her embarrassment and nodded, quickly saying, “Not enough.”

  “Where was the baby?” Quinn asked.

  “DHS placed her with a family in Saltillo.”

  “For how long?”

  “I don’t know,” Lillie said. “They seem like good people. They have three children of their own. Mother knows what she’s doing. Child feels comfortable.”

  “And the others?”

  “Same,” Lillie said. “This family has one more. The others are in good places until DHS can find something permanent. It’s not going to be easy. Some of those kids have special needs. But I guess you saw that.”

  Caddy looked up from where she held Jason in her lap. She smiled at Lillie and said, “Did she recognize you?”

  Lillie’s face lit up in a way Quinn had never seen before, soft, warm, completely content. “She did,” Lillie said. “She knew me. She held on to my finger and wouldn’t let it go. You should have seen her eyes, Caddy. So big and brown.”

  Quinn looked at the fire, listening, knowing this was a talk between his sister and Lillie. Lillie knew what Quinn would say, expecting him to tell her not to keep visiting the child. It would only make things rougher.

  “I call her Rose,” Lillie said. “Like my mom. And the family started calling her that, too. She is the most beautiful child I’ve ever seen. I don’t know; this may not seem right to some. But I don’t give a damn. I’m going to try and adopt her.”

  Quinn and Lillie’s eyes met.

  “I know what you’re going to say, Quinn. You’re going to tell me this isn’t the same as Kenny taking that Lab from their property and setting her out in his backyard. This is a whole lifelong commitment, and me becoming a mother right away. But hell, I’m almost thirty now, and I don’t see me changing my life for just anybody.”

  “Lillie, I think you should,” Caddy said. “I think you should help that child. Miracles are rare. But I think things happen for a reason. God put that child in your path.”

  Lillie drank some coffee and nodded. “What says you, Sheriff?”

  “I think you better take some time and think on it.”

  “I have,” Lillie said. “How about you write me a nice recommendation for saving your ass so many times?”

  Quinn reached down and took Lillie’s coffee from her hands. He took a long sip, handed it back, and nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  41

  “WHY?” DONNIE ASKED.

  “Does it matter?” Luz said.

  “Damn right, it matters,” Donnie said. “I just got done digging my own damn grave and pissing down my leg before your boys decide to take out their boss. I think I have a right to inquire about why God’s smiling on my sorry ass.”

  Luz had taken Donnie back to his truck at dawn before she’d followed him down to Highway 6 and drove ninety minutes east to Tupelo. She’d rented a room at an old motel called the Town House, where he’d showered and cleaned the dirt off his jeans and wiped down his boots. When he’d gotten halfway straight, they drove in his truck up Gloster Street to find a McDonald’s or Burger King or anyplace half decent to eat. Donnie drove. Luz rested her head on her fist, seeming to sleep but suddenly saying: “Can you still get the guns?”

  “The guns?” Donnie asked. “Are you shitting me? You just get finished telling me you can’t do jack without Alejandro and then y’all kill the son of a bitch. Just who am I talking to? Did you kill him for me? Or were you pissed at him anyway? I don’t mean to be unappreciative, but what are y’all gonna do with me if I deliver?”

  “He killed a friend,” Luz said. “The man at the motel. He was growing paranoid, believing some were working against him.”

  “Ain’t paranoia if you’re right, darlin’,” Donnie said. “Just what in the hell is going on?”

  “Can you still get the guns?”

  “No,” Donnie said. “I mean, shit. I don’t know. I guess.”

  “Now that Alejandro is dead, men will come for us,” Luz said. “Do you understand? These are the people I told you about. This man Tony.”

  “Wait, wait, wait,” Donnie said, holding up his hand. “Hold the goddamn phone. I thought you killed Alejandro for your damn boyfriend. Now you’re crossing your boyfriend, too? I kind of feel like I walked into this movie a little late.”

  “If you can get the guns,” Luz said, “we will need them tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” Donnie said, laughing a little to himself, spotting a Burger King down the road and turning on his blinker. “Oh, sure. Christ Almighty. This thing is going to take some time and phone calls. People gotten real paranoid. My damn hands keep shaking.”

  “Listen,” Luz said. “Be quiet. OK? Listen to me. There is too much to tell. Too much to explain. It won’t make sense to you.”

  “You ever hear about Parchman prison? It’s a place in the Delta where they skipped right over the damn twentieth century. They got men in there look like gorillas and take fellas like me as their damn tree mates. You are a real looker, and I care about you, Luz, but I don’t want to spend the rest of my life being cornholed by the missing link.”

  “I can’t explain everything. It won’t make sense to you or any American.”

  “Darlin’, do I look like I used to take the short bus to school? I made a B plus in Social Studies.”

  “DID YOU HEAR what’s been happening on Days of Our Lives?” Lillie asked Mara in the interview room of the Tibbehah County Jail. “Abigail sure laid into Chad for kissing Melanie. And now Daniel wants that DNA test to prove he’s Maggie’s son. Lots going on in Salem.”

  “Was my momma there?” Mara asked. “At that farm with the children?”

  Lillie sat down, and Quinn hung back again, lightly closing the door, standing and watching Lillie take the lead. She pushed a Coca-Cola across to Mara, dressed in that XL orange jumpsuit and picking at her cuticles, nervous, but a little wild-eyed, too. She seemed to Quinn like someone just waking up from a dream, everything still a little fuzzy and out of focus.

  “We found some evidence that she and Ramón had been there,” Lillie said. “A woman we arrested said they’d left a few hours before to go shopping.”

  “That’s my momma,” Mara said, nibbling on a cuticle. “Loves to shop.”

  “They hadn’t left much in the house,” Lillie said. “There wasn’t formula for the babies, and none of the children had been changed in some time. They had sores.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Why are you sorry, Mara?” Quinn asked. He had his arms crossed, leaning against the wall in shadow. “Wasn’t your fault.”

  “My momma isn’t that bad,” Mara said. “She was doing the best she can. She has a thyroid disorder that she got from my mee-maw. Reason she got so big. Everything she’s done has been out of the love she has for the kids.”

  Quinn looked to Lillie, Lillie not taking her eyes off the girl.

  “Mara, she threatened you,” Lillie said. “You don’t need to protect her. We need you to make things right.”

  “She’s scared,” Mara said. “Don’t you bet? Don’t you bet she’s scared out there with y’all chasing her? How come no kids got shot at that farm? Y’all can’t shoot guns around kids.”

  “We’re chasing her because she killed a child,” Quinn said. “What are you trying to do?”

  “What will happen to them?” Mara said. “If you catch them?”

  “You said you’d help,” Quinn said. “I thought that was pretty stand-up.”

  Lillie looked up to Quinn, telling him to back off, and then back to Mara. “What about Gabriela?” she said. “Don’t you care what happened to her?”

  Mara was silent, slack-shouldered and chewing on a nail. She hadn’t touched her bottle of Coke. She slumped in her chair, looki
ng deflated.

  “Mara?” Lillie asked.

  The room stood still and very quiet, only the steady tapping of the keyboard, Mary Alice at work, from down the hall. Quinn rolled his shoulders, still standing back, spotting an old calendar for the Bank of Jericho on the wall. A quail hunt with pointers, men with guns walking through the grass. His uncle’s shaky scrawl noting certain trial dates and events back from five years ago. The paper had curled yellow from sun and tobacco smoke.

  “What happened that day, Mara?” Lillie asked. “I need you to explain.”

  Mara didn’t speak for nearly a minute. Her large eyes finally lifted, looking at Quinn, not Lillie, and saying, “It’s not like you think.”

  “What’s that?” Quinn asked.

  “Momma’s not bad, you know. She was trying to help all those children. That’s what she was trying to do.”

  “Go ahead,” Lillie said. “Tell us.”

  DONNIE TOOK A RIGHT into the Burger King parking lot and killed the engine. He leaned back into the driver’s seat and turned to Luz. He hadn’t slept in a long while and he was sick of Luz speaking in code, toying with him. The ashtray in his truck was overloaded with spent butts, Mountain Dew cans at his feet. He felt like he’d been on full tilt for days now. Luz kept on staring out the passenger window, not facing Donnie, not speaking or making a move.

  “Luz? You owe me a story.”

  “Really?” Luz said. “What about Alejandro?”

  “What about him?”

  “We saved you.”

  “OK,” Donnie said, those burgers smelling pretty good. “I’ll give you that. But that’s where things get a little fuzzy.”

  Luz shook her head and stared at the window. Donnie could see the smoke coming from the top of the burger joint. “Holy hell, I’m hungry. Can I get you something?”

  “We can talk later.”

  “Nope.” Donnie shook his head. “Right now. If you want me to make that call, you and me gonna have to have a come-to-Jesus.”

  Luz turned to him and stared, unsure just what he was talking about. She studied his face, waiting.