by Lila Beckham
“Do you believe in superstition and such, Hook?”
“It depends on who’s telling it,” James said seriously.
“Well, Annabel drug me over to Josiah Long’s to have our palms read and fortunes told. He predicted my father’s death and he said something about my mama, but I dismissed it; hell, I didn’t even listen to it. I had put her out of my mind way before then.”
“What did he say?”
“I don’t know; like I said, I closed my mind, didn’t even listen to what he had to say about her. The only thing I remember him saying besides telling me that my old man was going to die was that, two wrongs don’t make a right.”
“I wonder what he meant by that?” James asked.
“I don’t know, but now, it’s driving me frigging nuts trying to figure it out!”
“You’re just tired, Hoss.” James said, handing Joshua the joint. “You need yourself a vacation.
I’ve been thinking about going over to Ferriday, Louisiana for a little fishing trip. You ought to come too. John Parker said he caught two hundred shell crackers and bream in one day out there last year. That’s a lot of fish!
It would be well worth it, for us to go over there for a few days. Have us a big fish fry when get back.”
“Yeah, you’re right, Hook. I do need to get away from here for a spell. I have several months of vacation time saved up; when do you plan on going?”
“We can go as soon as you can get away. I work for myself; I can take off whenever I want to.”
“Well, shit.The only thing holding me up is the paperwork from these beheadings,” Joshua said, taking another hit off the joint and passing it back to James.
“I will get that done ASAP and holler at you soon as I know when I can leave.”
“Good deal, Lucille,” James said as he leaned further back in the seat and propped his feet in the opening between the car door and the body of the car. Joshua was doing the same thing on the other side.
“When we get back, I might open up a cold case unit,” Joshua said, thinking of his mother’s disappearance. “Try to solve some of those murders from way back when. There bound to be someone left who remembers women going missing around here.”
“Yep, there ought to be, Hoss. You do that; after we get back.” James said, putting emphases on the word after.
Joshua pulled a fifth of whiskey out from under the seat and popped the cork on it. He took a big swig then passed the bottle to James.
About that time, Joshua’s favorite song began playing on the 8-track player; he and James both burst out in song.
“You know I smoked a lot of grass, oh Lord, I popped a lot of pills,” sung Steppenwolf, the sheriff and Hook was singing right along with him.
“You know the dealer; the dealer is a man, with a lid of grass in his hand.
Aw… but the pusher is a monster, Good God, he’s not a natural man.
For a nickel, lord he’ll sell you lots of sweet dreams,
Oh Lord, he’ll leave your mind to scream.
I said god… damn!” screamed Steppenwolf, “Goddamn the pusher man!” Stokes and Hook sung along at the top of their lungs. Joshua was feeling good. For the moment, he was happy… enjoying the whiskey, the prime marijuana, the company of an old friend, temporarily forgetting all of his troubles…
The End ~
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I grew up in a family of storytellers on both the maternal and paternal sides of my family. I could sit for hours listening to them tell stories passed down from ancestors and stories of their own about how it was when they were growing up. I especially loved the ghost stories!
When the stories ended, I wanted more… many times, I concocted my own stories where I would journey with these mysterious people, my ancestors. I found them fascinating. All I knew about them was what my parents and grandparents told me. However, it was never enough, I always wanted more…
I began researching genealogy. What I learned through genealogy research still did not fill the void. I needed more, so, in my mind I invented more!
Somehow, I felt as though I had known each character personally, sat and talked with them about their lives. I gave each a personality and a face. I could do that because of the descriptive storytelling ability of the storytellers. I want to be like that.
I want to share my stories with all of those around me. Those who enjoy journeying into another world, a world that makes us forget about our troubles. A mysterious world, that exists only between the pages of a book.
My name is Susan Cobb Beck. I also write under the pseudonym, Lila Beckham.
I live along the coast in Southern Alabama with my husband, three children, three dogs and half a dozen cats :)
