Fatal Catch

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Fatal Catch Page 2

by Roxe Anne


  Uncle Riley walks up to Billie and me. “You don’t have to worry. You kids aren’t in trouble. No one is going to arrest you. You did the right thing by going for help. This man has been in the water for days and there was nothing you could have done to save him. I’ll stop by and talk to your Mama about the incident when I return your fishing pole.”

  Billie and I slowly walk home. “Missy, do you think the man died instantly like Daddy?”

  “I don’t know. We did the best we could. You heard Uncle Riley!”

  “Yeah, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. Do you think the person who killed Henry McDougall will kill us, too?”

  I don’t want to cause Billie to worry, but I am wondering the same thing myself. “No, the only person I’m worried about at the moment is Mama. We’re late for supper.”

  Billie flexes his arm. “If a killer comes after me, I’m going to show him my muscles!”

  I start laughing. “Your muscles are pretty big, but I don’t think they’d stop a killer.”

  I know one thing for sure; we aren’t going to fish on that dock again. In fact, we aren’t going to step on the dock for any reason.

  • • •

  Billie runs into the house before I can stop him.

  “Mama, I caught a man on my hook. Don’t be mad at us. We didn’t kill him. He was already dead!”

  “Missy, what is your brother talking about? You kids making up stories again?”

  “No, Mama. Billie really did catch a dead man. A lot of police and firemen helped us get him out of the river. I’m sorry we’re late for dinner.”

  “That must have been what all the sirens were for. We kind of wondered about all the ruckus. Did you see Uncle Riley?”

  “Yes, he said he’d bring our fishing pole back and have a talk with you when things get settled.”

  Uncle Frank starts acting strange. He just keeps grinning at Mama’s questioning. I have had enough questions for one day. I sure wish Mama would drop the subject.

  “Was the coroner there?” Uncle Frank asks.

  “Yep, someone named Ned showed up. He talked to Uncle Riley for a long time. He told Uncle Riley he was going to rule the dead man’s death—what did he call it, Missy?”

  “Suspicious.”

  “Missy, did anyone mention how he died, or where he came from, or maybe his name?”

  “Umm—I think the man might have been hit on the head with his boat’s oar. And if it had been a robbery, the robber would have taken his fishing tackle and pole,” I answer puzzled by his questioning.

  Uncle Frank drops into his chair. He doesn’t have a grin on his face any longer.

  • • •

  The nightmares come about every other night. I sleep with the lights on and the covers over my head. I can’t get Mr. McDougall’s ghastly face out of my mind, and the thought of him possibly being murdered still frightens me. I will have to make sure I keep a close eye on Billie. We might be the killer’s next victims if he finds out we found Mr. McDougall’s body. I sure hope he wasn’t watching us at the river!

  Chapter Two

  Mama calls us to the living room.

  “Kids, this is Sammy DelRosa, Uncle Frank’s best friend. You can just call him Uncle Sammy. They’re both going to live with us from now on!” Mama says in her glory. She will have two men doting on her every word instead of one.

  Uncle Sammy has dark-brown, curly hair which matches his brown eyes. He is much better looking than Uncle Frank, but there is something sinister looking about him that makes me shiver. He has a short-sleeved shirt showing off his big tattoo of a skull and crossbones. In the movies, men who wear tattoos are the bad guys.

  Uncle Sammy walks over to Katie and begins stroking her long, silky brown hair. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Katharine Canfield!”

  Katie gingerly inches back away from Uncle Sammy.

  Billie and I stay far away from his reach. We don’t want him touching us. But we tell him we are glad to meet him so Mama won’t get mad.

  “Kids, your Uncle Sammy’s going to sleep in the guest room. His rent will help pay the grocery bill.”

  Katie and I look across the room at each other. We will have more house work, and Mama will be kissing our new uncle, Frank, in Daddy’s overstuffed chair every night just like she did for a while with Uncle Riley. She’d just sit on his lap kissing and giggling all night long. I guess Mama likes having an audience.

  Renting to Uncle Sammy is going to cost Mama more in groceries than he pays rent. He looks like he can eat enough for three people and will probably dirty just as many dishes. He must have read our minds. He just keeps winking at Katie and me.

  • • •

  When Mama isn’t working at one of her two jobs, she sits around and paints her fingernails. She usually paints them a crimson red.

  She wears bright red lipstick to match her fingernails. I think she tries her best to look like Marilyn Monroe. I can’t imagine her not having her hair done or her makeup just right. When she smiles, you can see her perfectly straight pearly white teeth. No matter what Mama eats or does, she always looks like a model. Some people are just born lucky.

  • • •

  We have an old wringer washer which takes forever to wash our clothes, but at least it works. We can’t afford a dryer, so Mama was thrilled when Daddy put up a clothes line to hang our laundry on. I don’t much care for hanging out laundry. It means a lot more work. After we bring in the laundry, we have to iron everything including our new uncles’ boxer shorts. I hate men’s shorts of any kind. What are the neighbors going to say with us hanging out men’s underwear to dry? Mama isn’t even married, and there are two men living in our house!

  Katie doesn’t like Uncle Sammy, and she especially doesn’t like ironing his boxers. She says, “Uncle Sammy is always bumping my breasts and teasing me about wanting to get inside his shorts when Mama isn’t around. I can’t wait for him to find another place to live so he’ll leave me alone!”

  I might be thirteen but my chest still looks more like the eggs over-easy Mama cooks than breasts. Mama says I’m just a late bloomer and not to get worried. I guess I should be grateful I’m built more like a boy with Uncle Sammy living here. It doesn’t stop him from winking at me. I hate him coming too close; he wears too much cologne. Katie says it is what all older men wear; Old Spice.

  I wish we had a television set. At night we sit around the living room and do puzzles, play slap jack, rummy or Monopoly. I hate Monopoly! It takes too long to finish a game, and I always lose. I’m real good at rummy.

  The living room has the most beautiful field-stone fireplace and mantle. When Daddy was alive, we made popcorn in our fireplace. At Christmas, he put cinnamon sticks and pine cones in the fireplace to make our house smell festive. When it isn’t in use, Mama puts a bronze fireplace screen in front of the opening. She bought it cheap at a garage sale.

  Mama sits and sings country western songs in the living room to Uncle Frank. She loves to sing songs by Hank Locklin and Kitty Wells. When she finishes with one song about falling in love, she just starts singing another. Mama sings all her favorite songs to all our new uncles.

  Her favorite actor and singer is Elvis Presley. She acts like a teenager when she hears him sing. Once, when Mama went to see one of his new movies at the theater, I thought for sure she was going to faint right there in front of everyone.

  Uncle Frank likes Mama’s singing. He just grabs her up and swings her around giving her a great big smooch. Our dog, Sandy, always snarls at him. She thinks he is hurting her. And maybe Sandy is a bit jealous. She used to sleep with Mama after Daddy died.

  • • •

  The light is shining bright through the lace curtains in my bedroom window. The sun is reflecting off a prism I have hanging in front of it. Colors of yellow, blue, and red are dancing across my bedroom walls. The brightest red male cardinal is perched on a branch on the tree outside the window. He almost resembles the color of Mama’s lipstick.


  I decide to go downstairs and make me some cereal to eat out on our porch so I can hear the birds sing. I might even give Sandy some of my milk.

  Our house has a faded white picket fence around three sides. Our back porch is enclosed with large windows and lace curtains at the top. Mama lovingly furnished the porch with white wicker furniture and an old braided rug made by her grandma. She placed a crazy quilt her grandma made out of all her old clothes over a white wicker rocker.

  Sometimes Mama just goes out and sits in the rocker doing nothing but smiling. She says the porch reminds her of her grandma. We can enter the porch from our living room. It is one of Sandy’s favorite places to lay.

  “After breakfast, girl, you want to go see Calico?”

  Sandy wags her tail happy to know she gets to see her best friend.

  Sandy and I can’t wait to go out to our barn and see Calico’s kittens. Last year, Sandy brought home a litter of kittens. We don’t know where she found them, but she sure thought they were her babies. She even tried nursing them, not that she had any milk.

  We kept one of the kittens, a white female with bright orange and black spots. We named her Calico. Sandy and Calico used to do everything together; that is until the neighbor’s cat started to come over and sing to Calico all night long. Now Calico has kittens out in our barn. They are the cutest little things I’ve ever seen. The kittens don’t have their eyes open yet, but when they do, you can bet Sandy and I will play with them.

  Sandy begins pacing and barking at the door. I look out the window and see Calico eating something. Good for you, Calico! At least you’re getting enough food to feed your babies.

  “Sandy, it’s just Calico. Calm down and drink your milk before Mama sees you.”

  Sandy continues barking and jumping on the porch door to go out. “Calm down, girl. I’ll open the door for you, but leave Calico alone!”

  As I open the door, Sandy flies past me. “Sandy, I told you to—What in the world do you have, Calico?”

  I run after Sandy trying to keep her from stealing Calico’s catch. “Oh, Calico, what do you have in your mouth? Oh, no. I’m sorry! What happened to your baby?”

  “Mama, come quick! Calico has something in her mouth.”

  Mama walks out on the porch wiping her hands on her apron. “She’s probably moving her kittens because you two won’t leave her alone. I told you not to bother her!”

  “No, Mama, it’s just a head—no body!” I point at Calico’s mouth. “Look, she has a kitten’s head in her mouth!” I cry.

  We walk over to Calico to see what she really has. I sure hope it isn’t one of her babies. That is exactly what it is! Mama and I run to the barn.

  “Maybe you had better stay back, Missy. In case something is wrong.”

  Mama puts her arm around me. “Missy, all of Calico’s kittens are dead! Sometimes animals dispose of their young when something is wrong with them.”

  I jerk away from Mama’s reach. “I don’t care. How can any living thing do something so awful to their babies? I hate Calico!”

  I run to the house crying. I can barely see the porch. I begin puking my guts out. I can’t get the horrible image of Calico holding one of her kitten’s heads in her mouth out of my head.

  Mama brings me a cool wash cloth and places it on my forehead. “Missy, are you going to be okay?”

  “I think I’ll have to sleep with the lights on for a while. And I never want to see Calico again!”

  Mama takes Calico for a long ride. She never wants to see her again either. Uncle Frank is glad all of the cats are gone. He just leans against the front door smiling at Mama and Calico as they leave our driveway.

  For a time, Sandy lays by our barn waiting for her cat to return home. She won’t eat a thing. After a few days of starving, she comes to her senses. She eats everything in sight and doesn’t leave Mama’s side; which doesn’t make Uncle Frank happy.

  Chapter Three

  “Missy, would you like to go to the park with me and my friends,” Katie asks.

  Katie takes me by surprise. She never asks me to go with her and her friends. Once her interests turned to boys, she spends her spare time painting her nails and rolling her hair in huge rollers. She looks like someone from outer space!

  Katie and her boyfriend, Charlie Goodman, came up with a plan for when she babysits. She dials his number and lets it ring three times. This means she has put the kids to bed so he can come over. I suspect they spend their time alone on the couch kissing like Mama and Uncle Frank. She doesn’t need any practice in this area; she has peeked enough at Mama and Uncle Frank to get the idea.

  “Are we going to have a picnic?” I ask curious.

  “No, we’re just going out for a ride and we might play a little baseball,” Katie snickers.

  I put my hair up in a ponytail with a baby blue ribbon tied to it. I choose my best pair of shorts; blue checked and to my knees. It should go nicely with my favorite white cotton shirt with an embroidered butterfly in the middle. Most of our clothes come from garage sales or our cousins. The only time we get something new might be for our birthdays or Christmas. The clothes we wear are usually a couple of sizes too big or too short. Some even have holes in them before we get to wear them. The worst is when I have to wear boy’s clothes. But at least they are always clean.

  The only shoes I have are made of white canvas, which now look gray and have a hole at the right big toe. We wear bobby socks most of the time. Actually, I prefer to go barefoot. Mama can’t afford to buy us kids’ new shoes very often. She says, “If your feet grow any more, I’ll have to buy you skis; they’ll last longer. When I went to school I had to walk five miles even if my shoes were too tight or had holes in them. Sometimes I even had to go barefoot. You kids should be glad you even have shoes as poor as we are!”

  • • •

  Charlie picks us up in his 1957 red and white Chevy. He must have been shining his car all morning. We stop and pick up a couple more of their friends on our way to the park. The car sure is crowded.

  We play baseball for what seems like an eternity. I’m not good at playing any type of ball. I got hit in the face with a hard ball once, and my face swelled all up.

  “Missy, I’m not bringing you anymore. You embarrass me. Either catch the ball or go sit down, you big coward. If you catch it, it won’t hit you in the face!”

  “Katie, I’m too hot. I don’t want to play anymore. No one has thrown the ball my direction for a long time. I’m just standing around most of the time.”

  “If you didn’t duck, someone might throw the ball to you. Just go and be a baby, and sit down somewhere. I should have brought Billie!”

  “You should have brought Billie. I’m sick of waiting for you to be done!” I yell, stomping to a nearby tree. I sure wish I’d brought my new Bobbsey Twins book to read. I have been sitting under this oak tree for so long the sun is starting to go down and it’s beginning to cool off. I wish we had packed us a picnic. I’m pretty hungry, and it is way past supper by now. My stomach is growling.

  “Katie, when are we going home? Mama will be mad we missed supper. It’s starting to get dark. You can’t even see the ball when it comes your way!” I complain.

  “Stop being a baby. The game’s almost finished!” She yells.

  If I had known we were going to be gone this long, I would have brought along a sweater to keep myself warm. Bringing my knees to my chest and putting my arms inside my shirt makes me feel a bit warmer. One thing about the weather in the Midwest, the days can be hotter than blazes, but at dusk it might just cool down quick.

  Katie and her friends begin laughing and carrying on. I wish I knew what was so funny. They must be up to something to be whispering and carrying on like gossiping girls. Maybe they are all making fun of me for ducking. I guess I’ll find out what the joke is soon enough.

  “We have to go home. Mama will be worried sick, and she has to leave for work soon. She’ll ground us for sure, and it won’
t even be my fault!”

  Katie gives me an evil look like I am going to get it when she gets me alone. I’ve seen that look many times before.

  Everyone begins piling into the crowded Chevy. All of us are crammed into the car like jelly in a doughnut. The boys smell worse than catfish guts on a river bank. I try holding my breath for as long as I can. All of Katie’s friends are roaring with laughter and staring at me. I wish I could be at any other place but in the back seat of Charlie’s Chevy.

  “Missy, we are going to stop somewhere before we go home. We want to show you something!” Katie begins laughing.

  “But we have to go home!” I protest.

  “I’ll just tell Mama we stopped to pick up my babysitting money. You know Mama never gets mad when it comes to making money!”

  • • •

  We start driving up the hill toward the town’s small cemetery, Grand Oak. I have heard stories from my friends at school about the cemetery being haunted. You never want to go there after dark. There is a rumor about a young girl from our town visiting her grandmother’s grave and never being seen again. I never want any part of any cemetery day or night. There aren’t even any stars out yet, and I can’t see much of the moon either.

  The sky has a dark eerie look to it. The wind is blowing ever so lightly; making it sound like someone whispering. I wish I was home in my own bed with the covers over my head.

  We stop at the middle of the cemetery. My heart feels like it is going to beat right out of my chest.

  “Why are we here? I want to go home! I want to go right now, please?”

  Katie points to an object towering above all the other dimly lit tombstones. “Missy, we’re just going to walk a little ways over to that tombstone. I have a surprise for you. I will give it to you when we get there; if you’re not a coward. Missy, you’ll love it. Trust me. It will be fun!”

 

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