A grateful look flooded the kid’s face. He left the table, rushing to the back bedroom to retrieve his backpack.
Nathan felt like a jerk. Something had happened to the kid, real or imagined something had happened.
The boy brought the beat-up bag into the kitchen and laid it across the wood table. The bag smelled like the road, its beaten, well-traveled look somehow lent credence to the boy’s story. Very gingerly, Jar reached inside and pulled out the clay box.
He set it carefully in the center of the table.
Nathan sat there for a minute just staring at the plain, clay box. He couldn’t imagine how it could be responsible for the heat or the destruction in two towns. He reached out to touch it. His fingertips barely grazed the top and he felt a jolt—like a current from an electrical outlet zapped him. He pulled his hand back in surprise and stared at the kid.
“No, don’t touch it. It’s—” the boy struggled for a word finally settling on, “cursed.”
Nathan’s hand hovered just above the box. Heat was definitely radiating off the surface. He wanted to dismiss the boy’s words, pick the box up and shake it, open it up and see what it held but he couldn’t bring himself to touch it—under the electrical current he’d felt something dirty, unpleasant. Jared’s eyes looked feverish, glazed over with fear and grief.
Breaking away from the boy’s hot gaze, he lowered his hand back to the table and spoke of his own suspicions for the first time.“I think you’re right about a curse. But I don’t think it’s a gypsy curse, I think it has something to do with Voodoo.”
There, he’d said it. It felt good saying it out loud, even if his audience was a twelve-year-old kid.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Reserve, Louisiana
Nathan watched from his front porch as Daniel Dupier pulled his squad car onto his property. He could count on one hand how many times Daniel had been out to his house in the past two years and wondered if there was news about Angelina.
Daniel stepped out of his car, dressed in full uniform. Even from the porch Nathan could see pit stains from the early morning heat. It felt hotter today. Nathan looked back toward the house with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension on his face. Had it gotten hotter since the boy arrived?
Daniel tipped his hat and offered up the niceties, “Morn’ng Nathan.”
Giving his own nod, Nathan waved his arm toward the chairs on the porch and said, “Why don’t you come up and grab a piece of this shade?”
Daniel walked up onto the porch. He peered into the house as he walked past the front door and took a seat. Once seated, he removed his hat and gently waved it back and forth in front of his face.
Realizing Daniel might need someone to talk to about his missing niece Nathan asked, “How are you holding up?”
Daniel waved off his concern. “I’m all right.” Adding, “River patrol says you had a jumper last night out at Veterans Memorial.”
Nathan paused. Suzy was Jar’s friend and somehow he felt he owed her a bit of respect. He didn’t want the report to read she’d committed suicide. “Can’t say it was a jumper, I just saw her go over.” The small lie was out before he could stop it. Nathan tried to steer the conversation back to Angelina. “You ready to get back out there?”
Daniel leaned his elbows onto his knees and spun his hat between his fingers. “Hell, you and I both know we’re just wasting our time out there.”
Nathan lowered his voice, “Don’t you give up, Daniel. We could still get lucky.”
Nodding half-heartily, Daniel changed the subject. “Hey, you didn’t see two kids out there last night, did you?”
Nathan scrubbed his chin and tried to appear deep in thought. He hadn’t shaved yet and his hand met rough stubble. “No can’t say I saw two kids. Just the girl as I was coming up the bridge. My lights lit up the railing right as she fell.” Nathan didn’t know why he was lying. Hell, he didn’t know how he was going to explain the boy who was hiding in his house right at that moment.
Daniel nodded as if he accepted Nathan’s story then said, “It’s just that after your call went out over the radio last night about a possible jumper, a man over in Hymel called the station and said he’d picked up two strays at the rest area up on Interstate 10. He said it was a boy and a girl, and they were heading this way to see their sick mamma.” Daniel looked up at Nathan to see his reaction. He added, “Hell of a coincidence if it wasn’t the same kids.”
Nathan played dumb. “So you think one of them is somewhere in town?”
“Could be they both went over. Maybe it was a double suicide.”
Nathan raised an eyebrow, “Hadn’t thought about that possibility.”
Daniel rose from his seat and placed his hat back on his head. “Anyway just came out to give you the news and ask if we should have the river patrol looking for two bodies instead of one.”
Nathan appeared to consider Daniel’s suggestion. “Couldn’t hurt. If they find a body we’ll get your guy from Hymel to come out and identify it.”
Daniel stood to leave. A noise came from inside the house. He nodded toward the screened door and asked, “You got company?”
Nathan considered blaming the noise on Agador but he’d have to test his lie sooner or later, so he said, “No, that’s my nephew.”
Daniel pulled back surprised. “I didn’t know you had any brothers or sisters.”
“I don’t. It’s my ex-wife’s nephew. His folks wanted to send him down for a few days to get him out of the city.”
Daniel walked down the steps shaking his head. “Forgive me, but you don’t seem the kid type. When did he get here?”
“Just this morning, I picked him up from the bus terminal in New Orleans.”
Daniel passed Nathan’s truck on his way back to his squad car. He thumped the hood of the pickup and asked loudly, “When you supposed to get your squad back?”
Nathan shrugged. “I guess two or three more weeks.”
Daniel smiled as he slid into his car. He called out. “Bring your nephew into town. I’m sure we’d all like to meet him.” He backed out of the dirt driveway.
Nathan waited until Daniel was gone before he stepped off the porch and walked toward his truck. He touched the hood. Morning sun radiated off the surface but it didn’t feel like it had been driven all the way out to New Orleans and back. He scratched his head wondering why he’d lied and how long it would take for the lie to come back and bite him in the ass.
The boy came to the doorway freshly showered and wearing one of Nathan’s white t-shirts. The shirt floated around him like a dress. Nathan glanced down at his watch. “First thing we need to do is go into town and get you some clean clothes.” He hadn’t figured out yet what he was going to do with the boy for the entire day.
In amusement, Nathan watched Agador follow the boy through the house and back out to the truck, pressing close as if he intended to jump inside the cab and ride on the boy’s lap.
“In the back Agador.”
The hound whined and stood his ground next to the boy.
Nathan grabbed him by the collar and dragged him to the back of the truck. Agador resisted the entire way and by the time Nathan had the tailgate down, he was out of breath. He huffed, “Smelly bloodhounds ride in the back,” and half lifted, half shoved his stubborn dog into the back of the truck.
In the cab of the truck he faced the same forlorn look on the boy’s face. Exasperated he said, “You two just met, you can’t be that attached!” He threw the truck into reverse and spun the truck around.
Once in town, Nathan stopped at the dollar store and bought Jar two new outfits, several pair of clean underwear and a pair of tennis shoes. Jar emerged from the changing room looking like a boy who might very well have been visiting his uncle for a few days.
After the dollar store they swung by Chick’s diner and grabbed a cup of coffee for Nathan and a couple of donuts for Jared. Had Nathan not been preoccupied with the upcoming search for Angelina Dupier he might
have noticed the distressed look on Narried’s face when she came around the counter to pour his coffee. Or the fact her hand shook as she poured the coffee and her eyes never left Jared Riley or the backpack he carried.
*
Oblivious to the attention they had drawn, Jar and Nathan left the diner unaware they were being watched. Narried stood watching from inside the diner, and down the street, Griffin Tanner observed the duo as they exited.
Griffin Tanner couldn’t say how he’d found the boy so easily—from the moment he’d touched the machete he’d felt like he had a internal GPS navigating the way. His arrival in Reserve, Louisiana, the same town where the trail for his missing mother had gone cold, felt right. When he spotted Jared on his way into the dollar store, a calm certainty filled him. He wouldn’t beat him with a belt. His eyes fell to the blade of the machete and a strong desire coursed through him. He’d cut him. The right side of his face, still encrusted with sand, tingled with anticipation. Jared Riley would soon fully understand the consequences of pilfering from a Tanner.
*
Lack of time and options dictated how the boy spent the day. Nathan took Jared with him to meet the search party. He had a sneaking suspicion Agador would have been useless to him out in the marsh if he had tried to leave Jared behind. Even so, he had his concerns about bringing the boy along, he’d seen enough and for once Nathan entered the marsh hoping they didn’t find anything.
Three days earlier the search party represented half the town of Reserve. It had dwindled down to ten men, seven of whom were unemployed and had nothing better to do than stomp through the dried-out marshland on a sweltering day.
Nathan greeted each man by name and tested his lie for the second time that morning by introducing Jared as his nephew. Not a single man raised an eyebrow in question, which made him wonder if he had projected his own suspicions onto Daniel.
Daniel arrived and the men waited for him to gear up and spray down with bug repellant before they headed out into the marsh and the surrounding bushes. Daniel led his party to the north while Nathan headed south. They agreed to circle west until they met up again. By dusk the men were overheated, exhausted and done. Angelina Dupier had not been found.
They worked their way back to River Road amidst the sounds of the marsh and the soft blinking lights of fireflies. Nathan had spent many summer nights with his grandfather in the marsh hunting for oyster beds. As a child however, he had never seen the marshlands go dry. He had never waded through the reeds in hip boots. He and his grandfather had always gone out in a small boat.
He looked down at the boy walking by his side. Jared Riley had not made a single complaint the entire day. He had paced Agador each time the dog shot off on a stray scent and had waited for the men, who did not have the advantage of youth. Neither of them spoke of the things they had discussed at breakfast, and now the conversation felt as if it had happened years ago, or even as if it had been a shared dream.
*
Jar’s exhaustion did not show until they reached the truck. Within minutes of climbing into the cab he fell asleep. Had he stayed awake another minute, he may have seen the sand-covered car driving past on River Road, and identified the danger that rode behind the dirt-encrusted glass. Had he been awake to hear Agador’s soulful howl, he may have felt a tingling warning but Jar was tumbling into the depths of sleep, free-falling through darkness that would lead him back to the drainage pipe and his friend, Luke.
Nathan pulled out onto River Road, and headed for the Veterans Memorial Bridge. He looked down at the boy when he called out in his sleep and considered waking him from his nightmare but chose not to as they approached the bridge where the boy had lost his friend. He did not notice the sand-encrusted car parked beneath the ramp as he drove by or its presence behind him as he traveled through town. By the time he hit county road 61 it was getting dark. A single pair of headlights hung back in the distance.
A little more than a mile out from his property something ran across the road. His last encounter with a shadow in the road was still fresh in his memory. He tapped his brakes and brought the truck to a safe stop. Agador let out a howl and defying his age leapt from the bed and disappeared into the woods.
Swearing, Nathan pulled onto the shoulder. He gave the sleeping boy a quick glance, grabbed his revolver and a flashlight from the glove compartment and went in pursuit of his dog.
A few minutes later the sand-encrusted Aston Martin drove within inches of Jared Riley as he slept, unprotected in the truck. A mile down the road, realizing he had lost the truck, Griffin stopped to consider his options and decided to circle back.
Jar dreamt he was falling through the drainage pipe. This time there was no rope to catch him. When he hit the bottom he landed on top of his dead friend, Luke. The smell of rot rushed from Luke’s mouth. Jar rolled away, gagging at the foul stench.
Luke opened his eyes, focusing them on Jar. When he spoke, a cloud of foulness and decay preceded his words: “There it goes…a long drive, if it stays fair…”
Jar mumbled in his sleep, “Homerun,” and awoke to the silence of an empty truck. Disoriented, he sat up. Darkness surrounded the truck. Trees lined the road, arching up and over its width, obscuring the sky. The stars were always visible in the Texas sky. Instinctively he reached into the backpack searching for the object of his dream. His fingers closed around the hard sphere and he withdrew the ball from the bag.
Like it had happened only yesterday, Jar saw Barry throw the ball up and catch it with ease. He heard Barry’s voice as he admired the signature, “I borrowed it from my dad’s collection.” He whispered to the ball, “You sure have caused a lot of trouble.” He shoved it back into the bag.
The thick black night made him feel claustrophobic. He had an urge to shimmy up the nearest tree where he could perch in the highest branches of the canopy. Once there, he would thrust his hands through the top and spread the leaves so he could see the sky.
In Texas the concept of the dark man had been scary, but at least there the space was wide open. Here Jean-Claude could be hiding anywhere, slipping between the shadows until he was standing right beside you. He had the sense Jean-Claude preferred Reserve, considered this his home, his domain; the shadows were his kingdom of fear. He thought about the shadows on the bridge coming together like a giant ink spill. Jean-Claude had taken his true form. The image of Suzy impaled and suspended by the pulsating mass of darkness flashed through his mind.
Why her? Why not him?
More than anything he wished his mother were here; she had a way of looking at things and making them seem simple. She’d ruffle his hair, throw an arm around his shoulder, lean down and whisper, “Come on kid, let’s get the hell out of here.”
The words were his own, not his mother’s and yet an instinct he couldn’t explain made him push down on the door handle, slide his butt off the seat and reach for the ground with his new tennis shoes. Headlights appeared out of the darkness.
Hastening from the truck, he closed the door. The dome light was on a delay.
The headlights grew brighter. Eyes locked on the little dome light he counted in his head.
12, 13—please
14, 15, 16—go out
17, 18, 19, 20—snick. It went out.
The oncoming headlights lit up the truck. Tingling fear surged down his spine, traveling through each limb of his body. It urged him to run. He scurried into the darker shadows of the trees. He didn’t wait to see if the vehicle came to a stop, in his heart he knew it would.
*
For the first time in years, Nathan felt his age. The last few days of searching the marsh had taken its toll and he felt weary to the bone. His muscles were crying out their objection, his lungs burning from the exertion of trying to keep up with Agador. He slowed his pace, cocked his head, and strained to hear the sound of Agador’s passage. Up and to the right, he could hear something large breaking through the bushes. Grimacing, he adjusted his direction. Bloodhounds were good
trackers but it was difficult to mask the passage of a hundred and sixty pounds of quivering determination. Picking up his own speed, he continued his pursuit, wondering what scent had caused Agador’s frenzy. A low hanging branch caught Nathan across his right cheekbone. Blood flowed freely from the deep gash.
Agador howled again.
Pressing his injured cheek against his shoulder Nathan advanced toward the sound of Agador’s soul piercing howls and saw him baying at a tree. He had never kicked his dog but as he approached the tree with sweat sliding down his back and blood dripping off his cheek, he felt the urge. He flashed the light on Agador and called out, “Come on Agador, it’s been a long day.”
Agador looked over briefly and let loose another mournful howl followed by low whining. He pawed at the base of the tree in agitation.
Nathan moved closer. “Okay Agador, what you got?” He couldn’t see anything. The canopy of trees did not allow any moonlight to filter through to ground level. His flashlight played along the base of the tree where Agador had pawed. The weak light picked up the outline of a dark lump, indiscernible in the darkness. Crouching down, he shined his light across the glistening mass. Ants and flies crawled over the surface. He waved his hand, disrupting the flies. The flies lifted up, and came back down. It looked like a small animal had been skinned and it smelled god-awful.
Agador stretched his front legs up onto the cypress and whined again.
Nathan ran his light up the tree. At first the darkness refused to give up its secrets to the probing shaft of light. Finally, his eyes adjusted and he saw the shape of a small human foot dangling in the air. He had a hundred different memories of climbing trees as a child. Each one of them filled with the mossy smell of summer near the river and the lighthearted sound of giggling children up to no good. These images allowed room for the thought a child could be sitting on the first branch of the tree with his legs dangling over the side. However, the dark night and the silence, interrupted only by the sound of Agador’s howls, filled him with dread. He stepped back allowing the light to travel from the foot up the thin leg.
The Drought Page 26
