Deception on All Accounts

by Sara Sue Hoklotubbe

  Sadie watched while farmers she knew to have spoken only five words in the last year became aggressive bidders on everything from furniture and dishes to tractors and plows to mystery boxes that appeared to be full of nothing but junk. From time to time, Jaycee would take a folded piece of paper from his pocket, make a note on it, and then put it back.

  During a lull in the action, Sadie turned to Jaycee and asked the question she had been dying to ask ever since she got there. “Now, why is it exactly that you needed to come to this sale?”

  “Money, my dear,” he answered matter-of-factly. Then seeing the question on her face, he continued. “The trust officer handling this estate didn't want to come. Thought it was too far up here in the sticks. And since I wasn't too far away, I volunteered to come for him. It's not a big deal. We work with the auctioneer and handle the paperwork and get a percentage of the revenue.”

  The gavel crashed against the block again and the sale continued. Within three and a half hours the entire contents of the house and barn were sold.

  “If you will wait for me, I've got to sign a few papers and then we can go grab a bite to eat,” said Jaycee.

  “Okay, I'll be right here. I've grown kind of attached to this seat,” she said, leaning back against the chair.

  Jaycee disappeared into the crowd and Sadie decided to see if the bathroom was still in working order. When she came out of the bathroom, she was amazed to see the entire contents of the house being carried out piece by piece. She looked for the china cabinet. It and all of its contents were gone.

  When she reappeared on the empty porch, a man walked up from behind her and grabbed her shoulder. It was Michael. Sadie jumped backward and almost lost her balance.

  “Don't touch me,” she yelled.

  “Hey, what's wrong with you?” he asked. “I told you the other day on the phone, we need to talk.”

  “I don't have anything to say to you. I don't want to see you…and I want you to leave me alone.” Sadie defensively crossed her arms in front of her and held on to her shoulders. “What are you doing here, anyway?” She looked toward the highway, hoping somehow she could get Lance's attention. “By the way, I know a police officer that's here.”

  “Let's just say, I'm keeping my eye on you. Besides, is that any way to talk to your husband after all this time?” The high-pitched tone of his voice made Sadie sick.

  “You are not my…”

  Jaycee appeared from nowhere and handed Sadie a box. He then strode past her to Michael and stuck out a confident hand. “I'm Jaycee Jones. I don't think we've met.” Jaycee sounded like a used car salesman getting ready to go for the big sale. Then, before anyone could say anything, Jaycee put his arm around Michael's shoulders and escorted him off the porch away from Sadie and into the yard.

  Sadie watched in quiet amazement as Jaycee continued to talk to Michael, just out of earshot. From her view, Sadie could see Michael's face as it appeared to fill with fear. The expression on Jaycee's face never varied from the artificial, salesman-like grin. Michael shook his head as if saying first yes and then no. Jaycee let go of his shoulders and Michael raised his hands up in front of him as if ridding himself of the entire situation. Michael then turned, walked out the gate, and crossed the highway. Jaycee climbed back on the porch, smiling as if he were seeing her for the first time.

  “I'm at a loss for words,” she stammered.

  “I'm not. I'm hungry. Let's go find some grub.” He took Sadie's hand and they walked straight to her car. “Say, what's in the box?” he asked.

  “It's the box you just gave me,” she reminded him.

  “Well, what's in it?” Jaycee had a mischievous look on his face.

  Sadie carefully opened the box. She couldn't believe her eyes. There was the water pitcher she had seen earlier, the one marked as sold.

  “How did you…?”

  “You got to be the early bird…say, if you want to follow me I know where there's a great little barbecue place.”

  Sadie could only nod her head and say, “Okay.”

  Chapter 12

  Both of Sadie's old vehicles sat between the farmhouse and the barn, proof that she must be home. As Jaycee crossed the cattle guard and drove up the lane toward Sadie's house, he realized how enamored he had become of this woman. He had known a lot of women in his time, but Sadie was different. She affected him in an uncomfortable way, almost as if she had him under a magic spell.

  He opened the door of his rental car and waited. Sonny had instilled a serious case of cautiousness in him a few weeks back, so he waited to see if anyone showed up to greet him before approaching the house.

  After deciding it was safe, he knocked at the door and peeked through the kitchen window. But he could raise neither woman nor dog, so he strode across the yard to check the barn. The rusty hinges creaked when he pushed the door open and a barn swallow flew from its nest. Jaycee jumped. Other than the birds, the barn was empty, which meant Sadie and her two companions, Sonny and Joe, must be together. Hopefully, not far away. Maybe the favorite spot Sadie had told him about. He wondered if he could find it on his own. After a few minutes, he decided to give it a try.

  He returned to his car, retrieved a green camera bag from the back seat, and threw it over his shoulder. The bag contained his new toy, a digital camera. It was the latest model available, and expensive to boot, and he was anxious to try his hand at taking pictures with it. The new contraption had more buttons and knobs than he had ever seen, but the young clerk who had sold it to him assured him even a monkey could make it work. He had taken her unspoken challenge and paid cash for it on the spot.

  The main reason for the purchase had been his desire to capture Sadie's timeless beauty. In all his forty years he had never cared to carry around a picture of a woman, but he guessed that was about to change. He let himself through the gate and started walking through the pasture.

  Summer had definitely arrived. By the time he reached the creek, the relentless Oklahoma sun pounded on his head and sweat began to stream down his back. Looking for a place to rest, he finally found one at the edge of a clear stream. He knelt and splashed cold water on his face, then sat down in the shade of a tall red-oak tree. As he surveyed his surroundings, he began to question his decision to track down Sadie. After all, how would he find her on an 80-acre tract of land where hills and valleys rose and fell indiscriminately, with each ridge merging into an endless maze of treetops?

  Sunlight shimmered through the leaves of a gigantic sycamore and long-legged insects danced a bug ballet on top of the water. A crow called out a warning to another, reminding the city dweller of Hollywood westerns that depicted Indians as savages, making coded animal sounds just before they attacked the white settlers. He had never realized how degrading those images were and how tainted his impressions of Indians were before he met Sadie. He wanted to make sure she knew he didn't feel that way.

  Periodically, a slight breeze would rustle the leaves in the trees and the birds would chatter at a gray squirrel as it played hopscotch in the trees above, bending the limbs to their maximum flexibility before jumping to another. The beauty of this place enveloped Jaycee and his thoughts returned to Sadie. She was a rich woman, he thought, but her wealth had nothing to do with the price of rocky, red dirt in northeastern Oklahoma. She had a beautiful spirit, and this land, along with Sonny and Joe, supplied the nourishment. For a moment, Jaycee surrendered to sadness. He knew he would never experience that degree of happiness.

  Jaycee left his shady spot near the water and walked alongside the stream until he reached an oasis in the middle of nowhere—a deep, blue pool fed by a nearby spring. Crystal-clear water trickled from the mouth of a cave and down the side of a steep bank. Sadie had described the cave where she had played fearlessly as a child. Unfortunately, she had confessed, the opening was now too small for her to venture in, so she resorted to just sitting and watching the miniature waterfall making endless circles on top of the water before it splashed head
long into the stream below. It was her favorite place to meditate, she had told him.

  But Sadie was not there. Disappointed, Jaycee decided to make the best of the situation and take a few photos before heading back. With camera in hand, he squinted one eye and looked through the viewfinder with the other. He angled the lens up and down, crouched and stood on tiptoe, looking for that perfect frame—that perfect stolen second to imprint on a piece of paper. Jaycee beamed, delighted with himself. He would capture Sadie's favorite place, frame it, and present it to her as a gift—a special gift.

  He placed his camera bag on the ground and squatted next to it to change his lens to get a wider shot. Suddenly, he heard Sonny bark. He jumped to his feet and when he did, the rocks under his feet gave way, causing him to fall backward into a thick and thorny bush. He threw his hand back to break his fall and his shiny new camera crashed to the ground. In the commotion, he failed to hear the warning—the tiny rattles, just before the young diamondback coiled and struck. Two needle-like fangs punctured the skin on the fatty part of Jaycee's palm. Then, as quickly as he could jerk his hand away, the rattler deposited its deadly venom and disappeared into the bush.

  He looked at the two tiny holes in the palm of his hand, felt the pain mushroom, and wondered how long it would take to die. Before he had a chance to yell for help, Sonny found him, barking with excitement as if he had found a prize. Sadie and Joe rounded the big sycamore at the bottom of the hill and Jaycee found himself thanking a God he didn't know for the sight of a woman and her horse.

  “You okay? What are you doing up here?” asked Sadie.

  “Looking for you,” he said. “But that damned dog of yours about scared me to death. Fell into that bush and a snake got me.” Jaycee held out his left hand, already beginning to swell.

  “Where is it?” Sadie jumped down and fished for a knife in the front pocket of her tight jeans.

  “Here, my hand.”

  “I see your hand. Where's the snake? Did you kill it?

  “Didn't have time.”

  “Good,” she said. “What did it look like? Was it in the water?” Sadie already knew from the size of the two pinholes in his hand it was either a copperhead or a rattlesnake, unless he had gotten hold of a cottonmouth near the water. She also knew that very young snakes, lacking the experience, failed to hold back venom for another possible strike. Instead, when they bit, they gave all the venom they had, making the situation worse for the victim.

  “What do you mean, ‘good’?” he asked.

  “Talk to me, Jaycee. What did it look like?”

  “I don't know. Kind of brown.”

  “Brown like a copper-brown? Or brown like a gray-brown?”

  “More gray, I think. In the bushes there…” Jaycee pointed to the spot where he had fallen.

  “Did you hear a rattle? Was it a rattlesnake? How big was it?”

  “Hell, I don't know. He bit me and was gone before I…”

  “That's okay. Don't get excited. It only pumps the poison to your heart faster. Sit down.”

  “Oh, great.”

  Sadie opened her pocketknife and pulled his hand between her knees as if shoeing a horse and slashed both holes, allowing the blood to flow freely.

  “Ouch! What the hell are you doing…”

  “Get up.”

  “I think I'm going to be sick…”

  “Get up!” Sadie guided the wounded man to a boulder at the edge of the stream. She dipped her hands in the cold water and splashed his face. “You'll be okay, Jaycee. Sit on this rock, rest your elbow on your knee and let your hand bleed. I'll be right back.”

  “Where are you going? You can't leave me…”

  “Do as I say,” she demanded in a loud voice. “Keep your hand below your heart and let it bleed.” Sadie backed up, stuck her boot in the stirrup, and mounted Joe in a fast and fluid movement. She squeezed the stallion with her knees, dug her heels into his flanks, and gave a click with her tongue. With that command, Joe wheeled and they raced down the hill and across the meadow with the grace and speed of champion barrel racers. Sonny ran alongside, barking with excitement.

  Jaycee sat at the edge of the stream holding his hand over the water. He doused his face again and wondered how long it would take for his whole life to drain out through those two tiny holes in his hand. He could see schools of small fish swimming back and forth in the clear water and he became dizzy. He suspiciously watched the grassy area around the pool, half expecting the snake to return to finish him off, but before he could conclude his thoughts about life after death, Sadie returned and knelt beside him holding a green plant.

  “Chew this up,” she commanded. “Swallow the juice, just the juice, then spit it out into my hand.”

  “Are you crazy?”

  “Just do it.”

  Jaycee followed Sadie's instructions with hesitation and began pushing the leafy plant into his mouth. He realized, as badly as he didn't want to, that he was going to have to trust his life to somebody besides himself.

  “Joe, come.” The stallion lowered his head, grumbled, and walked up to Sadie.

  “Just the juice, Jaycee. Spit the rest in my hand.” Sadie took the chewed plant and placed the poultice on Jaycee's wound. She pulled a white handkerchief from her shirt pocket and tied it snugly around his hand.

  “Get up, Jaycee, you've got to get on Joe. Try to keep your hand lower than your heart.”

  “I can't feel anything in my hand. I think I'm going to throw up.”

  “You're going to live, if I can just get you on this horse.”

  Joe stood perfectly still while Sadie pushed Jaycee into the saddle.

  “Good boy, Joe.” Sadie placed her hand on the stallion's strong neck while Jaycee pulled himself up. “Hold on to the saddle horn, Jaycee. That's it. Now, take your foot out of the stirrups and lean forward.” Sadie mounted the horse and sat behind Jaycee, holding him in the saddle. From a saddlebag, she produced more of the bitter weed and thrust it in Jaycee's face. “More snakeweed, please.” Her request sounded as if she were ordering more tea at lunch.

  “You know, this stuff tastes like…”

  “Yeah, I know.” Sadie pulled the knotted reins off the saddle horn, held them with her left hand, and nudged Joe with her heels. “Let's go, Joe. Easy does it…that's it, slow and easy…just swallow the juice.”

  In a matter of minutes, with Sonny leading, they returned to the barn. Sadie jumped off the back of Joe and helped Jaycee slide down. His knees buckled and he fell.

  “Come on, Jaycee,” she said. “You can do it.” She left Joe saddled in the corral and helped Jaycee to her car.

  “Oh, Sadie, I left my new camera…

  “That's okay, I'll get it later. Let's go.”

  Sadie delivered her snakebite victim to Eucha Memorial Hospital in a few short minutes and helped him through the emergency room door.

  “Do you have an insurance card?” the young girl sitting at the emergency reception desk asked. She wore a red-and-white stick-on badge that read IN TRAINING.

  “Yeah, in my wallet—”

  “He's got a snakebite,” interrupted Sadie. “I'll stand good for him. Can we get that information in a minute? I promise he won't die until he signs.”

  Sadie's frivolous attempt at humor about death in the emergency room went unnoticed, but when the registered nurse on duty, Eileen Summers, overheard the word “snakebite,” she dropped the file she was holding, placed Jaycee in a wheelchair, and rolled him down the hall.

  “Rattlesnake, I think,” said Sadie.

  Her voice echoed in her head and she retreated to the waiting room and collapsed into a large lounge chair in the corner. She closed her eyes and laid her head back on the lumpy chair. Her mind swam.

  What was he doing there…good thing I circled back around…must have been a rattler…could have been a copperhead…

  Sadie's thoughts faded into a fitful dream.

  An old Indian woman leaned on her walking stick, wiped s
weat from her face with her sleeve, and gazed into a clearing. She shaded her eyes with a shaky hand and scanned the hillside. Then she caught a glimpse of a green plant. A storm cloud approached; lightning flashed and thunder rumbled. Quickly, the old woman harvested the plant, preserving the roots, so she could replant it later near her house.

  A young child ran to meet the old woman. “Where ya been, Gran'ma? What ya got?”

  “Snakeweed, my child. You never know when you might need some,” answered the old woman. “The plant is powerful against the bite of the snake.”

  A white woman appeared, took the plants from the Indian, and threw them on the ground. When the child looked down, the ground was covered with snakes. Snakes intertwined in a massive conglomeration. A gleaming snake in the center rose up and transformed into a man. The young girl looked up at her grandmother's brown wrinkled face. “Gran'ma?”

  “No, I'm not your grandma,” said Eileen as she gently touched Sadie's shoulder. “Are you okay, Sadie?”

  Awakened with a start, Sadie bolted from the chair, heart pounding, trying to recognize her surroundings. When she saw Eileen's plump face, her white uniform and nurse's cap, she remembered Jaycee.

  “Jaycee? Is he all right?”

  Eileen smiled and touched Sadie's forearm. “I thought that poultice looked like it might be your handiwork.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “He's fine,” she said. “We've already given him several shots of antivenin. He's probably going to need more, but we have to watch him for a while first to make sure he doesn't have a reaction. You can see him if you want.”

  Sadie followed Eileen down the hall and into a room where she found Jaycee propped up in a hospital bed, his tanned face and arms a stark contrast to the white sheets. His wounded hand lay at his side, wrapped in a bandage. Sadie could see that the swelling had reached and passed his elbow. He cradled a plastic, kidney-shaped bowl against his side with his other hand.