Old Dogs, Children And Gil Bateman

by Darrel Bird

“No, they haven’t been this way, is something wrong?”

  “I don’t know, we haven’t seen them since noon, I thought they were here.”

  “They haven’t been here since yesterday.”

  “Could they be anywhere else around here?”

  “I don’t think so, there’s lots of land, but it’s all empty around here.”

  “I’m worried Mr. Bateman, it ain’t like the girls to go off very far.”

  “Why don’t you drive over to the McKnight farm the other side of Low Gap, and call the sheriff just to be on the safe side, they have a telephone, in the mean time I’ll start looking for them.”

  “I’ll do that Mr. Bateman, thanks; if you find them will you bring them home?”

  “Sure I will, now you just go on, we’ll find them.”

  “There’s one thing I forgot to tell you Mr. Bateman, do you remember a Ronny Hanson who lived over at the colony? It was on the radio that he broke out of prison and might be in this vicinity. Since we have been here only a short time I don’t know him.

  “I remember him, he was a mean crazy sort of feller, they sent him to prison down at Culpepper bout ten years ago, I ain’t got no radio. You better get on now Mr. Tilton, we got to find them babies.”

  The old car spun in the gravel as it lurched off the way it had come. Gil stood in the yard trying to think, “Lord, I ain’t put much stock in you, but we need to find them little girls, now if you’re real, I wish you would help me clear my head. I got to do some thinkin’.”

  Gil crossed and re-crossed the land between the two houses, but found nothing as it grew dark, he could hear the clear voice of Mrs. Tilton calling for her kids as darkness descended, the air hot humid and heavy on the night.

  The next morning he awoke to the sound of horses as the mounted sheriff’s posse began combing the area. Gil drove down the river road on his tractor, stopping every so often to yell the kid’s names.

  When he got back the county sheriff and his men were standing their horses in his yard.

  “See anything Bateman?”

  “Not hide nor hair, I don’t think they are between here and the Red river.”

  “When did you see them last Mr. Bateman?”

  “I seen them day before yesterday.”

  “And what did they do here?” about that time Gil Bateman’s head came clear as a bell and his mind was as sharp as it ever was.

  “Now you look here Sheriff, your men have been combing this place since you got here and you best not go wasting time thinking I took them. You men are welcome to tear that damn house to the ground, but there ain’t nothing in it or around it.”

  “Now don’t go getting upset Mr. Bateman, I got to cover all the bases.”

  “Well you cover’em Sheriff, but if you waste time on me and don’t find them, it’s going to get mighty personal twixt me and you.”

  ‘Are you threatening me Bateman?”

  “I don’t do threats son.”

  Mr. Tilton stepped between the two men, “Sheriff my daughters are a good judge of character, not to mention Scoot, and they set store by Mr. Bateman, I suggest we not spend time in disagreements, I need to find my children.

  The muscles in the Sheriff’s neck began to relax as he got his bearings once more, “Mr. Tilton, we’re going to have to stop until tomorrow, the men are worn out and it’s getting too dark to see. Tomorrow we are going to have to range further out.

  A few minutes later the men were gone and Gil sat on the front porch, his brow furrowed, he knew every crook and cranny in this part of the county and he knew the ways of a man, if he could just get his mind to work like it used too. He regretted getting angry with the Sheriff, it wasn’t anger really it was that he was so worried about the little girls, but he knew he needed to keep his head.

  He sat in the still of the evening and began to visualize the terrain in his head as his mind went back over the years of hunting. His mind kept niggling at him like a word he couldn’t bring to mind, he knew there was something he wasn’t remembering, it kept rising near to the top and just sat there.

  He remembered further and further back to his boyhood as nine o’clock became ten o’clock; he was leaning back in his chair almost asleep when he sat straight up.

  “By Jove! I remember now, that old cave we found when we was kids, it’s near that escaped fellers house no more’en a mile. We didn’t tell nobody about it, but that ain’t no sign he didn’t know about it neither!”

  The old straight backed chair creaked as Gil got up and walked into the house, “Lord if you been trying to lead me too them I ain’t never going to doubt you agin!”

  He mumbled as the fished around for his carbide light. He found it and put some water in the little tank, then dropped a little box of carbide in his pocket, He fished out some fresh shells for his hunting rifle, then walked in the kitchen and fished out some long kitchen matches and stuck those in his pocket.

  He lit the stove and warmed up some beans he had cooked the day before and sat down to a quick meal of beans and corn bread and a smattering of the green onions out of his garden. When he finished eating he gathered up the rifle, slung it and the carbide light over his shoulder and walked out the door, leaving the sheriff a note on the nail in his front door.

  “Not much walking time till day light, at least I can see with a full moon out.” He mumbled as he turned south on the road that circled around and came out by the colony church house which lay atop the mountain on the county road.

  It was this mountain that held his interest as it ran back northwest from the road. He would have to feel his way when he got off the road and headed through the thick forest.

  Gil walked as fast as he could in the dim moon light but it was nearing four o’clock in the morning when he came to the Hanson Place, there were no lights showing in the windows, but as he broke off the road and started across an open field the sharp ears of a coon hound picked up his footsteps in the tall grass and bayed a couple times although no lights came on.

  It became extremely difficult to walk as he headed across an open field, it was still dark, but there was some color showing in the East.

  He made his way slowly through the woods, hoping he wouldn’t disturb a sleeping Copperhead or Rattle snake.

  The day was just breaking as he came in view of the old cave; he knew it was the spot by the shape of the mountain. The mountain was slightly higher above the cave. The boys had come here enough to know how to spot it through the forest.

  He saw a glimmer of light back in the cave as he went as quietly as he could toward the entrance, but just before he reached the cave entrance he tripped and fell.

  A figure appeared in the low mouth of the cave.

  “Who’s out there? I see you mister and I’ll shoot you dead, you better go on now.”

  Gil knew the man could see him; he had lost any element of surprise. “You got them kids in there boy?”

  “Yeah, I gottem. What you aim to do about it?”

  “What you want with them kids boy?”

  “I dunno, I jest wants em, now you go on and leave me be.”

  “You cain’t have them kids mister, thems just little tykes anyhow.”

  “I’se wanting me some woman flesh and I aim to have it.”

  “But son, them’s just little kids cain’t you see that? Now I aim to kill you dead if you don’t come outa there.”

  “The voices say I cain’t be killed, so you cain’t hurt me.”

  “Yes I can boy, and I aim to hurt you bad if’en you don’t come outta there an leave them kids alone. I don’t care what them voices are telling you.”

  “You got anything to eat mister, I might trade you the littlest’un fer some bacon.”

  ‘Yeah, I got me some bacon here, send her out.”

  “You promise?”

  “Yeah, I promise, now just send her on out.”

  In about a minute he tossed Carisa out of the cave and she went rolling like a rag doll. “Oh God, let her
be alive.” She laid there for a minute, and then began to steer around, she started crying. “Carisa, come here to me child, come on now.”

  The little girl made him out, then came running in a stumbling run toward him, and he gathered her in his arms and hugged her tightly. He looked her tear stained face over, there was dirt and many scratches, but she seemed to be solid otherwise.

  “You hide behind that log now child, does he have a gun?” But he got no answer, and he had to assume he did.”

  “You bring that Bacon here to me now like you said you would mister!”

  “You got to get to the other side of the cave where you can see me.” He hoped the ruse would work so he could get off a shot.

  He took careful aim at the mouth of the cave near the entrance, and sure enough he saw a figure start moving across the cave.

  He fired, the powerful rifle sounding deafening in the early morning forest. A shot came immediately back as the bullet whizzed harmlessly through the trees.

  “Mister, I’m gonna come out there and shoot you dead, I aim to have me some of that bacon you got there.”

  “You can’t kill me boy, I got voices too and they say you ain’t squat!”

  He prayed for the baiting to work. He again took careful aim at the cave entrance, but there was only silence from the cave.

  Scoot came breaking through the brush leading the sheriff and several men.

  “What you got Bateman?”

  “The Hanson boy is in there and he’s got Marisa, the boy’s crazy as a bedbug sheriff, but he’s armed with a pistol, I traded some imaginary bacon for Carisa, she’s over there behind the big log.”

  Mr. Tilton rushed over to grab his daughter up in his arms, “Is Marisa alive?”

  “Uhuh, but I’m awful scared daddy.” Carisa was crying, her arms wrapped tightly around her fathers neck.

  “The Lord will see to it she gets out, now don’t you worry honey.”

  The sheriff cupped his hands around his mouth, “You come on out of there now, we don’t want to shoot you son, but we aim to have that girl you took.”

  Scoot stood off to the side, his head pointing toward the cave, his hackles up as low ominous growls emitted from his throat, a whimper came from the cave. All of a sudden he shot toward the cave before anyone could stop him, and tearing sounds and screams came from inside.

  The men rushed the cave and there just inside the entrance was the dog tearing Hanson from limb to limb. The sheriff tried to pull the dog off but the dog turned and bit him, he reached for a log of fire wood to beat the dog off and Gil pointed his rifle at him, “Don’t you go hurting that dog sheriff. I’ll get him.”

  “Well get him man, he’s killing him.”

  “Scoot! Stop! Scoot, stop now. Come here boy!” Gil was yelling as loud as he could until finally the crazed animal heard him and let go Hanson’s neck, but the neck was already broken and his head lolled drunkenly then he was still.

  The dog walked over to Gil, his face and his fur matted with blood. Gil kneeled down and hugged the dog as he whimpered his confusion.

  “The dog couldn’t help what he done sheriff.”

  “I know that Mr. Bateman.” The sheriff said in a gentle voice. I reckon the fellow is better off dead anyhow, he was crazy as a loon, but we got to gather him up and take him down too his folks. They’ll want to give him a decent burial up at the Colony I reckon.”

  Marisa came swooping out of the back of the cave and into Gils arms. Gil carried her out of the cave into the bright morning sunlight. Her father came rushing to hug her.

  “I’ll carry her back to the road Mr. Tilton so you can carry Carisa, let’s get them home to their mother.

  A week later they heard about the funeral of the Hanson boy, Marisa, Carisa and Scoot came up onto the yard and Gil got up out of his chair and hugged them all close.

  “Thank you Lord for what you have done.” The tears fell freely.

  “You ain’t plowing today Mr. Bateman?” Marisa said after she had been thoroughly hugged.

  “I don’t reckon I got such a need to plow these days, and beside I done wore out that old tractor plowing what didn’t need plowed.”

  “The lord give us these flowers to give to you today.”

  “I reckon he did child, I reckon he did at that.” He took the two red roses and brushed them on his bearded cheek. “I reckon he did.” He said softly.

  The End