HARD ROAD: Heaven Bound

by Terry McDonald

  From the corner of his eye, Jake saw the boy dig a large stone from the ground beside him and conceal it under his leg.

  “They didn’t bother the rest of you?” He asked, shifting his position so he could keep the boy in view.

  “Willie made us hide till it was over. They raped Mamma to death, then they beat our daddy dead.” She paused, fighting back new tears, then asked even more angrily, “You happy now you been told?”

  “I’m sorry,” Jake replied gently. “How old are you?”

  “I’m eighteen,” she replied, her voice registering her annoyance. “You finished asking questions yet?”

  Jake ignored her question and glanced at the bodies of the white men.

  “Those guys are dead. We can’t erase what’s happened, but we can get on with living.

  “Boy,” he said, turning to speak to the two beside Uncle Willie, “how about helping the little girl and let’s go to the house.

  “You got a douche kit in there?” he asked, turning back to address the young woman.

  “I got a what?” she replied with a puzzled expression.

  “Water and a plastic bottle?”

  “Yes.”

  “As soon as we get to the house fill it and squirt it inside to wash out that man’s poison. You keep doing it until you’re clean. You understand what I mean?”

  “Yes sir, I know what you mean,” she replied in a mild sweet tone that caught him by surprise.

  “Girl, you’re something else,” he said, smiling. “One minute you act like I’m your worst enemy, and the next you don’t.”

  “Excuse me for being out of sorts,” she retorted, speaking in clipped angry sentences. “I been raped. That man’s face and blood is all over me. One of my ribs feels broke where he kneed me, and you smilin’ and askin’ questions like it ain’t nothin’.” She turned to speak to the other two. “Allen, grab Janie and let’s get to the house like the man says. Are you okay?”

  “I’m okay,” the boy replied as he stood, using his sleeve to wipe his tears. He kept the other hand concealed from view.

  She turned back to glare at Jake again. “That’s the question you should have asked us to begin with instead of skipping it,” she stated venomously. “We’re just fine thank you.”

  “Good,” Jake said, feeling kicked out of sorts himself. “We can come back later to bury your uncle, and see if those two have anything worth taking. Keep your eyes open, they may have friends in the area... Boy, if you're going to keep that rock, you'll have to walk in front of me. You may as well drop it. You don't need it.”

  The boy let the stone slip from his hand.

  Time and the elements had taken its toll on the small house, and on the barn set off to the left. The barn doors stood wide open, one sagged listlessly from a single hinge. Both buildings had large areas of missing roofing. The roof of the house was roughly patched with odd bits of plastic sheeting and plywood to keep out the rain. The door allowed entry into the kitchen. The girl took a bucket of water from a counter and hurried to the bathroom, taking the little girl with her. Jake followed Allen into the living room.

  He studied the boy while they waited. His clothes, while not threadbare, were well worn and too big. Skinny, but not to the point of emaciation, he stood without slouching. The delicate features of his face showed the promise of being handsome. His hair, like the girls, was a matted, mess of dreds.

  “Do you have food here?” he asked. “Have you three eaten?”

  “We got some fish from last night, and some honey,” he answered.

  “Your name’s Allen?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Are those your sisters?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “How old are you, Allen?”

  “I’m fourteen, sir.”

  “I’m going to call you Al, if it’s all right with you. Allen sounds too formal. What are your sisters’ names?”

  “Beth and Janie.”

  “Beth’s the oldest one?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “How old is Janie?”

  “She’s nine.”

  “Damn,” Jake exclaimed, “I figured her for six or seven and you for twelve. Beth barely looks eighteen. You kids haven’t been eating very well. The three of you are nothing but skin stretched over bones.”

  “We been afraid to go far for canned food. We done took the food from the houses around here,” he answered defensively. “We eat mostly fish and wild greens and such. Sometimes animals from the traps we got set.”

  Jake saw he was trembling. “Are you afraid now?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “You don’t have to be afraid of me. I’d rather hurt myself than any of you. How about you call me Jake, no more yes sir, okay?”

  “Yes sir—,” he caught himself. “Yes.”

  “I have to ask. Are you bleeding down there? Are you hurt anywhere else?”

  “No sir, I mean no,” he answered, staring at the floor, embarrassed. “It hurts though.”

  “That’s to be expected. Let me know if you start bleeding. Mostly get what happened out of your mind, it won’t do any good to dwell on it.”

  Jake paused in thought. “I could use your help. Do you have a BB gun or pellet rifle?”

  “I got a Whammo and some marbles for shot.”

  “That’s even better. I want you to go out front and find a place to hide where you can see anybody coming. If you do see someone, do not move or shout, just use your sling to whack the front door with a marble. Think you can hit it?”

  “Easy, I can hit a running rabbit, but I ain’t leavin’ my sisters in here with you.”

  “Al, I’ve already told you I mean no harm here. If I wanted to do anything with your sisters you’d be dead out there with the others. Maybe those men were part of a bigger group, maybe not. We can’t take the chance there were only the two of them. I need you to grab your slingshot and get out there.”

  “I’ll go, but if you hurt my sisters I’ll kill you. I mean it!” Al turned and went down the hall to a bedroom door, returning with his slingshot and a handful of glass marbles.

  “I’ll be by the big stump you can see out the front window. I can see everywhere from there.”

  “Watch the driveway most,” Jake advised.

  Al went out the front door. Jake watched through the window as he ran to the stump with no attempt at stealth, disappearing from view in the tall grass and brush surrounding it. “Damn,” he thought, “the boy needs some survival training.” He noticed his own reflection in the glass, his long brown hair displaced and tangled from his dash through the forest. His hand went to his cheek to scratch an itch. The itch came from a thin line of blood from a shallow gash on his face. He scrubbed the dried blood away with a licked finger, and wiped it with the bottom of his sweatshirt. He walked around the living area, picking out twigs and finger combing his hair, occasionally blotting the cut with his sleeve.

  The interior of the home was clean and neat. Several more water buckets were on the kitchen counter. A cast-iron wood-burning cook stove sat near a wall in the living room with the stack going through the wall to connect to the chimney of a blocked-off fireplace. Crude plank shelving near it held a collection of cooking utensils. A low fence made with chicken wire stapled to a wood frame separated the stove from the living area. A wire-covered gate allowed access.

  One end of the living room was fitted with custom shelving filled with books. A useless flat-screen TV hung in an open area in the center. He gave a mental nod to the number of classics and college textbooks. At least one of their parents was well educated, which explained the mixed syntax the young ones used.

  There was a small framed picture on one shelf. Though they were much younger, he recognized Beth and Al, seated in chairs in front of a handsome couple, he assumed their mom and dad. The woman was holding a baby in her arms.

  He took a seat on a worn leather couch and waited until the girls returned from the bathroom.

  Beth had wash
ed the gore from her face. Still holding her bloody blouse closed, she told him she needed to change out of her nasty clothes and went down the hall with the little girl in tow. When she returned she sat in a worn out recliner across from him with Janie on her lap. She seemed composed and calm.

  Like their brother, the two girls had delicate features. All three had skin the color of light chocolate. The feminine lines of Beth’s face lent an element of grace that diminished the visible signs of malnutrition. Her, thinness, and the sunlight filtering through the windows, made her brown eyes appear even larger than before. Janie lay against her, twisting to hide her face, her small body trembling.

  “Is the little one hurt?” he asked.

  “She’s all right, just scared. She’s never seen a white man that she can remember, but she knows white men killed our folks. According to Willie, you’re the boogeyman.”

  “I guess those two outside sort of reinforced that image.”

  “I did what you said, mister. What you want next?”

  Jake hesitated, watching her pat Janie's back as he framed his reply. Her tone was still hostile, almost challenging. She was self-possessed, considering what she had endured only a short time ago. There was an aspect of strength about her that belied her young age.

  “I don’t like being inside this house. I feel trapped. You can’t stay here, you know. I’m amazed you’ve stayed alive as long as you have.”

  “What else were we to do? Where were we to go?” she responded, snarling her reply. “'Sides, if you feeling trapped, you can walk out the door. Ain’t nobody holding you here.”

  “Take it easy, I’m not trying to offend you, I’m only stating a fact. You’re right. One place is as bad as another. The world is dangerous since the plague and the war. The only way to stay out of trouble is to be out of sight. Good thing about your place here, it’s safer because it’s not near any major roads or towns.”

  “What you know about anything doing ‘round here?” she replied sarcastically, fighting back tears. “We ain’t been safe, mister. This ain’t the first time I been raped. A white man came through not long after Mamma and Daddy were killed. He drug me out to the barn to rape me and left ‘cause I told him Mamma and Daddy were out getting food. Allen had Janie with him in a closet.”

  “What about your uncle? Where was he?”

  “Willie? He did what he did best. Got out the back door and hid ‘till it was over. Last summer me and Janie were here by ourselves when a gang of black men came. I guess they saw smoke coming out the chimney when I was cooking.” Her voice broke and he could see she was struggling to continue. Her bravado weakened and tears broke loose.

  “There were five of them. They did bad things to me.” Her voice choked with emotion and she shook her head violently from side to side. She bowed her head and breathed in deeply.

  “I don’t know why I’m even talking to you, but I’m going to finish this, mister, ‘cause I need to. They was laughing while I was screaming. When they finished, they tied me up and took me with them. They left Janie by herself. One of them, the one hurt me most, wanted to kill her. Otis, the man in charge, wouldn’t let him.

  “They had a truck and a lot of gas in cans. That night they hurt me some more. The truck broke down the next day and I got away while they was fussing with each other. Took me seven days walkin’ ‘cause I was hurting up inside from the things they did. I didn’t trust the kids being with Willie without me.”

  Jake did not say anything for a while. Beth sat with her head bowed, tears dripping from her face as she rocked her sister back and forth. Janie had cried herself to sleep.

  Jake broke the silence. “I know it’s been hard for you, but now you have to think ahead. What do you believe we should do?”

  “I don’t know, mister. You’re the grownup. You tell me.”

  “You’re eighteen and old enough to think. Be the tough person you’ve been acting like.”

  “Eighteen ain’t nothin’ but a number. I don’t hardly know a mile past this house.”

  “That was thoughtless of me,” Jake said… “I don’t have a right to make assumptions about you. You were only nine when the collapse happened. Beth, I'm not doing myself a favor, but I say we gather your things and get out of here as fast as we can.”

  “And go where? Do what? You gonna take care of us, mister? You gonna keep us safe?”

  “I can’t promise that. We’ll have to take care of each other.”

  She regarded him with a twisted grin, misconstruing his words. “I guess you'll be wanting some of me too? You can have what you want, long’s you’re good to us and don’t hurt us none.” With those words, her voice broke again and tears flowed even stronger. “We ain’t got nothin’ here.

  The despair and surrender inherent in her statements ripped Jake’s heart.

  “When you cry it makes me want to reach out and comfort you, but you don’t know me. There is something you can do. Like I told your brother, call me Jake, not mister or sir.

  “Another thing, I don’t want anything from you. If I hadn’t heard you screaming and seen what was going down, I wouldn’t be here. As it stands, I can’t walk away.”

  Beth gave a short sarcastic laugh. “So the big white hero’s gonna save him some picaninnys?”

  “Jeez,” Jake said, exasperated. “Can you cut me some slack? I’m a grown man willing to help you stay alive.” He continued in a softer voice. “I can’t leave you here by yourselves. If someone comes looking for those men and finds you here, they will kill you. If you stay, I’ll have to stay and maybe die with you.”

  “Who we to you that you’d fight for us?” she asked, anger changing to bewilderment.

  “It’s my nature to protect people, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

  Beth looked him full in the face, a glimmer of hope showing through her tears. “If we go with you, you swear you won’t hurt us none?”

  “I won’t hurt you, and I swear I’ll do my best to keep you safe. How about you lay your sister down and let’s pack what you need and get out of here?”

  “That won’t take long.” Beth stood and laid Janie gently on the seat before wiping her tears with her sleeve. “Where’s Allen? He can help.”

  “He’s outside keeping watch.”

  Making a decision seemed to change Beth’s attitude. She worked efficiently alongside Jake to gather their needs. The pickings were slim, and a short time later, they were ready to leave. They had Al’s meager bit of fishing gear, the fried fish in a plastic container and two plastic water bottles filled with honey. They collected the few wearable clothes they owned, aluminum pans used for plates, empty food cans used for drinking, a large aluminum stock pot along with a big frying pan and some eating utensils. These they packed in two nylon bags Beth provided.

  He asked why they did not have regular plates and glasses.

  “'Cause Janie cut herself on a broken glass and bled so much it scared me half to death. I threw away the plates and stuff made with glass.”

  “I guess she’s why you have the fence around the stove,” Jake said. “That was good thinking.”

  She smiled, pleased at the compliment. “I had to do something to keep her from gettin’ burnt when she was littler. It ain’t like we could call an ambulance.”

  “It’s time to get out of here,” Jake said, shrugging into his backpack and slinging his rifle. “When you wake Janie, tell her to keep quiet… You might want to get the picture of your family from the bookshelf to bring with you. You may never see this place again.”

  She looked towards the bookshelf and ran to get the picture.

  “Thank you,” she said, her face showing appreciation deeper than words. She wrapped it with a hand towel before placing it in a bag.

  Jake opened the front door enough to speak. “Al, we’re going out the back door,” he called in a low voice. “Stay where you are and keep watching.”

  Jake, carrying the two bags went out the door, followed by Beth with
Janie riding her hip. When they passed Uncle Willie, Janie began to whimper again.

  It was much warmer, and flies were buzzing around the bloody wounds of the dead men.

  “Beth, turn Janie where she can’t see while I search them.” Beth turned, but kept her eyes on what he was doing.

  He searched the older of the two first, grunting as he rolled the heavy man onto his back. Ignoring the messy exit wound the bullet had made of his face, he went through the jacket pockets. He found nothing of value. The jacket of the second man delivered the pistol he was looking for. He slid the pistol and spare clip into his pants pocket as he stood.

  “We’re finished here. Will it bother you if we don’t bury your uncle?”

  “Ta hell with Willie,” Beth replied bitterly. “He didn’t help us bury Mamma and Daddy, and he ain’t done nothing since for me to give a damn. I want the knife though, and he has Mamma and Daddy’s wedding rings on a string ‘round his neck. I want those too.”

  She followed him to the body. As he knelt, Jake saw a bullet hole in Willie’s jacket close to the knife.

  “How did your uncle manage to get shot and stabbed?”

  “He always had the knife with him. They came so sudden he didn’t have time to run off. The one with the gun shot him when he pulled it out his belt. Willie was still alive when he fell. The fat man picked up the knife and stabbed him. Says, ‘You dropped this,’ when he did it. Son of a bitch thought it was funny.”

  The wide eight-inch long blade made a soft sucking sound as Jake pulled it out. He wiped it on Willie's pants leg and used it to cut the cord holding the rings.

  He stood, handed the knife and necklace to Beth, and led them back to the stump where Al was hiding.

  “You can come out,” Jake told him.

  Al emerged from concealment, dusting his pants. “I’m glad I’m not squatting in them weeds anymore. I feel like I got bugs crawling inside my clothes.”

  Jake chuckled. “Are they chiggers, ants or centipedes?”

  “That’s not funny,” Al responded, half smiling back.

  “Are you still hurting?”

  “Some, but not as bad.”