The Friendship Stones (An Ozark Mountain Series Book 1)

by Alan Black

  Hoffman grabbed the flowers, flinging them across the yard. He snapped, “Friendship is like them flowers. All pretty one day, withered and dead the next.” He spun around, looking on the ground. “Where is me a stick?”

  LillieBeth backed up a bit. She was sure God would protect her from any great harm, but she had been switched enough as a child to know He did not stay every hand. She backed up just enough to be out of his reach. She smiled politely at the man. She was fast, so even if he found a long stick, she could stay out of reach.

  “Dang it,” he snarled. “Ain’t no sticks.” He bent down and grabbed a small round stone.

  LillieBeth took off at a run.

  The stone smacked her dead center in her fanny.

  She stopped. Her anger flared. “That is no way to treat someone trying to be friendly.” She rubbed the spot on her rear, knowing it would bruise by morning, a hidden and secret mark, but purple none-the-less.

  She picked up the offending stone. She was not an expert in rocks, but Miss Harbowe had a display for geology study. This was a nice piece of jasper, dark brown and smooth, with a peculiar ring of white around its middle. It was oblong, almost egg shaped and nearly egg sized. She wanted to fling it back, but she remembered her scripture recitation and did not.

  She marched up to Mr. Hoffman, not face-to-face as she was a half a foot shorter than him, but near enough to touch. “My friendship is not like those flowers, sir. My friendship with you is like this stone. It may be small, but it is solid and reliable. It was a stone yesterday, it is a stone today and it will be a stone tomorrow. I was your friend yesterday, even though neither of us knew it. I am your friend today, even if you still do not know it. And I will be your friend tomorrow.”

  Hoffman snatched the stone from her hand. The speed was quicker than she could close her fingers, giving lie to his age. “This is what I think of your friendship.” The leaned back and threw the stone into the deep grass of the meadow. “You get yourself home before your Mama begins to wonder if I done killed and fed you to the dog for his supper.”

  LillieBeth backed away warily from Hoffman. She rubbed her butt where she had been hit by the rock, but he did not reach for another. She smiled. “Mr. Hoffman, thank you for your hospitality. It has been wonderful to meet you and I know that we will become very good friends.”

  She turned and raced down the path, across the meadow, not stopping until she reached the edge of the lane. She laughed and turned to wave, but Hoffman was nowhere in sight.

  She heard him cough. He tried to muffle it, but it was so quiet and peaceful she could not help but hear it. He was close, but she could not see him hiding in the trees. She had not heard him moving through the woods. She was surprised. She could track a squirrel by listening to it skitter on the branches. She could follow a rabbit by sound as it hopped through the leaves. But this full-grown man moved on silent feet, betrayed only by an errant cough.

  She decided if he wanted to follow her to make sure she left, it was fine with her. Whether they were side-by-side or hidden from each other by deep bush and trees, it was still a beautiful afternoon for a walk with a friend. She skipped, going as slow as she could, giving him time to keep up.

  She laughed as she skipped backwards for awhile. A voice caused her to spin around forward.

  “Hey Dangle. Look at what we found here.”

  LillieBeth laughed. “Hello, Trance. I am not sure you can say you found me, because I am not really lost.” She stopped skipping and straightened her dress. She tried to stop the blush, but it bloomed across her face. The last thing she wanted was to be caught acting like a little girl, skipping and giggling. She wished her hair was put up in a bun, woman-like and not in the long, single braid she always wore.

  Trance and Dangle were both inside the gate, standing in Hoffman’s lane. Trance leaned against a gatepost. He smiled at her, his eyes twinkling. He gave her a quick wink and slapped his brother Dangle on the back. “What do you think, little brother? Ain’t she the prettiest thing you’ve seen all day?”

  LillieBeth blushed a deeper red. She was glad she had not changed from her Sunday dress. It was plain, but still the nicest thing she had. She smoothed an invisible wrinkle in the folds of the skirt. She managed a quick smile and said, “You go on, Trance Braunawall. You are just trying to flatter me.”

  Trance looked stricken, “Flattery? Honest truth,” he said.

  Dangle looked at her with a sideways smile. He pulled an orange tin of Murray’s Superior Pomade from a pocket and dabbed a little on his head to slick back his hair. “Now, Miss Hazkit, you know Trance and me. Trance, why he be a lot of things, but is sure ain’t no liar. You done grown up as pretty as a fresh picked peach.”

  LillieBeth smiled. She gave a little curtsy like Mama taught, “Thank you. I think you are both addled by the heat of the afternoon, but thank you anyway.”

  She decided she liked Dangle’s hair slicked back and off his face. He did have a handsome face even if it was round. His hair was straight and thick and when left alone it fell down across his face. With his hair slicked back, his blue eyes and thick eyelashes were very handsome. He did have a nice mouth. It was a softer looking mouth than Trance’s.

  Trance’s mouth may not look as soft as Dangle’s, but he had straight teeth and a quick smile. Trance’s hair was as thick as his brother’s, but it was curly. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair, just as Mama did to Daddy when they were spooning.

  She wondered who would be the better kisser. She might be tempted to kiss Trance.

  She did not have any experience in kissing boys. She wanted to, but the most frustrating thing was, she did not know how to go about it. Besides all the married women said kissing was the gateway to sin. She did not want to go through the gateway to sin. Surely it would not hurt just to lean over the gate a little bit, just so long as she did not go through.

  She did not expect to get the chance to kiss Trance or Dangle as she never saw one without the other. How could she kiss Trance with Dangle watching or the other way round?

  Of the two, Trance was the one who made her tingle just by looking at her. She was not sure what to do with a tingling feeling, but the goose bumps were real enough.

  Trance reached out a hand, sliding one finger down her arm. Even through the long sleeves she could feel the heat from his hand, teasing and exciting the goose bumps already there. A flush of heat spread from LillieBeth’s face, stretching from the tips of her ears to her kneecaps. She wanted to run away, but she wanted him to touch her that way again.

  In spite of what she wanted, she said, “You best keep your hands to yourself, Trance Braunawall.”

  Trance smiled, grabbed her arm and pulled her close. He was taller than her by a foot. His grip squeezed her arm, holding her against him. He looked down at her. His face flushed. His breath was hot, washing over her, sour and stale.

  “You are hurting my arm, Trance. Let me go,” she demanded.

  Trance laughed. “Not this time. You go traipsing around these hills, all dressed up, you just asking for it. Dangle and I are just the men to give it to you.” He leaned down to kiss her.

  She tried to turn away. He twisted her arm, pinning her in place, kissing her hard. She twisted her arm free.

  “Stop it,” she shouted. She turned to run, not knowing which way to run, but just to get away. She had wanted to kiss him, but not like this.

  Trance grabbed the collar of her dress before she could move a step away. The thread on the seam pulled loose. She wrapped her arms across her chest before more than her neck was exposed. Her dress was ruined, ripped to the waist. Trance held her arm again. He pulled her in close, too close. She could feel his intent.

  She wanted to run, but could not. She wanted to hit him, but could not. She wanted to scratch him, but could not. All she could do was cry as he pulled her arms away and fondled her exposed breasts.

  SUNDAY - LATER AFTERNOON

  Through her tears, she heard Hoffman shou
t. “Hey!”

  Trance’s head yanked backward as Hoffman grabbed a fistful of curly hair and jerked. Trance flew backward, sliding on the ground to land at his brother’s feet.

  LillieBeth grabbed the front of her dress and pulled it up to cover her breasts. She looked at Hoffman, but he did not look back. It was almost as if she was not there. The old man stared at the Braunawall boys. She had never seen that look in a man’s eyes before. She did not know whether Hoffman was daring them to attack him, wanting them to attack him, or wanting them to leave.

  Hoffman still held his rifle in his right hand. He held it loosely, pointing the muzzle at the clouds.

  Trance scrambled to his feet, “This ain’t none of your concern, old man.”

  Hoffman said, “It wouldn’t have been my business had you been on the other side of my fence, but you are on Hoffman land. That makes it a Hoffman concern.”

  Dangle said, “You think your rifle makes you a tough man? I ain’t scared of you or it. You just go crawl back in your cave, ol’ man and maybe you won’t get hurt.” He pulled a long, folding knife from a pocket and pulled it open.

  Trance crouched into an open armed stance, ready to rush forward.

  Hoffman stepped forward, closing the distance between him and the Braunawalls. He stretched his right arm back as if he were going to hit Trance with his rifle barrel. Instead, he punched Dangle in the nose with his left fist.

  Dangle flew backwards, dropping the knife, falling into the barbwire.

  Trance lunged forward. Hoffman stepped nimbly to the side, clipping the young man behind his ear with the rifle butt. Trance flopped, limbs akimbo, loose and unmoving before he hit the ground.

  Dangle pulled away from the barbwire fence in time to meet Hoffman’s work boot, catching him squarely between the legs. He dropped to his knees, clutching his crotch, vomiting clear bile into the grass.

  Hoffman put a boot against Dangle’s backside and pushed, shoving the young man face first into the grass. Hoffman picked up Dangle’s knife, folded it and slipped it into his own pocket. He unlatched the gate and pulled it out of the way.

  He grabbed both men by their collars and dragged them into the road. He still did not look at LillieBeth as she desperately tried to keep covered up. He waited until she followed him into the road and he closed the gate.

  The Braunawalls had left their mules tied up nearby. Hoffman walked to the mules, rummaging through their gear. He found a revolver in Trance’s saddlebag. He opened the cylinder, dropping the bullets into his hand. He tossed the gun back in the saddlebag and pocketed the cartridges. His rifle never moved from his right hand, his finger always close to the trigger.

  LillieBeth wanted to run up the road. Not just to home, but to get away. She was humiliated, embarrassed, ashamed, and even a little sick to her stomach. She could not stop crying. At her first step up the road, Hoffman gestured her to stand still. He still did not look in her direction. He did not speak, but his command was clear.

  She stood and sobbed quietly. How could Trance be so mean? She had always been nice to him, even when he teased her. All Dangle had done was to stand and watch. She had liked them both so much; it did not make sense for them to hurt her like this.

  She knew she had wanted to kiss either of them. She would have held hands with either of them. She might have gone as far as to let Trance touch her breasts, if he had been nice and gentle, but he had not. He had pawed at her by force and ruined her Sunday dress.

  How was she going to explain the ruined dress to Mama and Daddy? She could not lie to her Mama. They talked about everything, but how could she explain this? Daddy would be so angry with the Braunawalls that he might hunt them, making himself sick, getting in trouble with the sheriff. For the first time ever, she found herself wishing Daddy would be gone to work before she got home.

  Hoffman found a bottle of clear liquid in Dangle’s bags. He pulled the cork and sniffed. He took a small sip and spit the offending liquid into the dirt.

  “You boys stink of bad whiskey. You should get better moonshine. I generally make my own. It is pretty good, if’n I do say so myself. This pop skull you been partnering with ain’t fit to clean rust off’n the outhouse door hinge.” He emptied the bottle into the road, putting the empty glass and cork into his own pocket.

  “You boys been travelling light today, so I don’t guess a little hurrah will hurt you none.”

  Dangle sat in the road, gently cupping his testicles. He stared up at Hoffman with ill-disguised hatred. “You’ll get payback for this, old man.”

  Hoffman lowered the rifle muzzle, pointing it at Dangle’s nose. He said, “You recon you want to let fly now?”

  Dangle scrunched his face closed and tried to move away, but Hoffman’s rifle barrel tracked his every movement. Dangle did not speak.

  Hoffman nodded. “You a bit of a mudsill, boy. You had best hobble your lip.”

  Hoffman leaned over Trance. He poked open Trance’s eyelid and nodded. Satisfied the young man was still unconscious, he unbuttoned Trance’s shirt and pulled it off. Without turning, he handed the shirt to LillieBeth.

  He said, “I don’t suppose a man’s shirt will fit you any better than it does on this pie eater. It’ll do to cover up ‘til you get home. Seems this boy got himself all roostered up and owes you a new dress. Tain’t much, but it might sew up some for you. He don’t expect you to be giving it back, do he?” He pointed the question at Dangle.

  Dangle, still staring down the barrel of Hoffman’s rifle, shook his head no, but did not speak.

  LillieBeth pulled the shirt on and buttoned it to the top. It was almost long enough to be a dress except the tail only fell about her knees instead of past her ankles as a proper dress should.

  Hoffman pulled off Trance’s boots. He undid Trance’s belt and pulled off his pants. It left Trance lying in the road, covered only in his long johns.

  LillieBeth wanted to look, but kept her face turned away. She was done with the Braunawall boys. No matter how curious she was about a man’s body, she wanted nothing to do with either of them.

  Hoffman stuffed Trance’s boots and pants into the saddlebags on the boy’s mule. “Missy, you climb up here on this mule. It’s okay, you ain’t stealing it, you just be borrowing it for a bit.”

  LillieBeth climbed into the saddle. It was a strange mule, but she had ridden horses and mules for as long as she could walk. Mules being the gentler of the two, she was not worried about this one misbehaving.

  Hoffman said, “You sit right there for a minute.” He handed her the reins of Dangle’s mule.

  The barrel of his rifle never wavered from Dangle’s face.

  “Now it is your turn. Strip.” Hoffman said. He emphasized the command with a wiggle of the rifle barrel. “Boots too. Stuff ‘em in your possibles bag. Good. Since you and your sleeping partner there like skinning off clothes, let’s just see how you like it when it is your clothes. Get off them union suits, your’s and his’n both.”

  Dangle hesitated.

  Hoffman said, “I’d just as soon shoot you here, nekkid or not. No, you keep your big bazoo shut and get ‘em off. The young lady ain’t likely to look and you ain’t got nothing I ain’t seen, even if I was interested, which I ain’t. Stuff ‘em in your bags with your other goods. Now, sit your bare backsides in the dirt where you belong.”

  Hoffman turned to LillieBeth and looked up at her. “You ride on home. When you get there, you set these mules back this way and give them a good swat. These two can pick them up on the road somewhere between here and there. Now git.”

  LillieBeth did not wait for a second command. She dug her heels into the mule’s sides, pushing it into a run. Dangle’s mule followed along easily.

  She was cried out with no more tears to squeeze loose. She was worried. What was she going to tell Mama and Daddy? Coming home on another man’s mule, wearing a man’s shirt, her dress all ripped and torn would bring up more questions than she wanted to answer right now.

>   Telling Mama would make her start to cry again. She did not want to have to relive her embarrassment. But, she could not hide it. With only two dresses to her name, tearing her good dress was cause for concern. Mama would understand and try to comfort her, but LillieBeth was almost as mad as she was humiliated. She was not sure what she wanted, simple comfort or revenge. She was as much her father’s daughter as her mother’s. Anger came as easy to her as embarrassment. Today the two emotions twisted together; she was not sure which would prevail.

  She did not want to be mad at the Braunawalls. She wondered if it was all their fault. Had she teased them and pushed them into acting badly? She had been friendly to them. Had she done something to make them grab her like that? Maybe it was partly due to the moonshine. Mr. Hoffman had said they smelled of drink. Maybe the moonshine caused Trance to paw at her and rip her dress. She decided she did not want to be mad at Trance and Dangle, but she did not want to see them again. Ever!

  She did not want to tell Daddy. He would be mad. He would be more than mad. She did not want Daddy to be so mad he would hunt down and hurt the Braunawalls. Doing that would get Daddy in trouble with the sheriff. Being mad in his mind would make his body sick with anger. She did not want her Daddy to go hunting the Braunawalls. She did want him to want to hunt them, just not do it and get into trouble. That was two separate thoughts she did not know what to do with.

  Mama had to know. She had to be told. LillieBeth knew how to sew. She could sew on buttons, make pillows, patch pockets, sew patches, hem pants and even darn socks, but repairing her dress was beyond her skills. Even repaired, the dress was ruined. It would always look torn and re-sewn. Her everyday dress had been fixed more times than not. It was almost as patchwork as a quilt from the Ladies’ Aid Society.

  Mama could even work the shirt she wore into something fine and usable. But she hated this shirt. She hated this shirt as much as she hated Trance.

  “No,” she said aloud. “Not hate. That is wrong.” She knew she could hate the shirt because it came from Trance. She did not want anything to do with Trance or even remind her of him. But, she knew she should not hate him or Dangle. They were poor foolish creatures bedeviled by alcohol. Hate was devilish and she tried to push it from her mind. Not hating her enemies would be as hard a task as loving them.