Lyin' Like a Dog, The Yankee Doctor, The Danged Swamp! 3-Volume set

by Richard Mason

  “Well, don’t be in too big a hurry and miss any front porches. Looks like it might rain.”

  Well, ’course, it was clear as a bell and no sign of rain, but Doc always had some off-the-wall reason to make sure I wouldn’t just throw the papers in the general direction of the house. The papers went quick, and before I knew it, I was back at the newsstand. It was almost record time, less than an hour.

  I trotted back home and headed for the barn. It was still not quite daylight, too early to feed the chickens, so I went to the barn to feed the mules to get that little chore out of the way. I opened the barn door and ran inside to pick up a feed bucket, when I noticed something wrong.

  Oh, my gosh! The back barn doors are open, and it ain’t my fault. I stood there a minute, wondering why the barn door were open, and I had just started to walk over and shut them when I saw a shadow. Gosh, at first I thought it was Old John, one of our mules, but then I looked again and it was gone. Heck, I started feeling spooky like something was wrong, and I decided to go back out of the barn and tell Daddy. Then I saw someone standing in the shadows by one of the stalls. My gosh, let me tell ya, that just scared the wa-doodle outta me. I jumped straight up and a shiver went down my back. Then I started trying to back out of the barn ’cause just what I could see of the man looked real bad—and just for a moment, I thought I'd seen him before.

  “Who’s there? Help! Stop! Ohooo!” Heck, I was just about to make it out the door when he ran between me and the door, grabbed me and slapped his hand over my mouth. He leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Kid, don’t make a sound, or I’ll kill ya!”

  No kidding, I been scared a bunch of times in my life, but nothing like that. The man who grabbed me had a knife in his hand, and he looked really bad, with scraggly beard and some greasy looking hair. I thought he might just knife me right there, and I’d die on the barn floor like some stuck pig. For a second, I thought he might just be a hobo until I saw two more men move into the light. Oh, my good Lord in heaven above, I recognized them. They’re from the swamp—-escaped prisoners—and they’ve been holed up in our barn, probably stealing chickens and eggs from us. Yeah, that’s what flashed through my mind, as I watched them other two men walk over to where we was standing. There ain’t no way on earth to tell you how scared I was. Heck, I was the one that had called the law on ’em twice, and I was a witness when they escaped. I’m a goner, just flashed through my mind.

  I could smell really bad breath from the man holding me as he leaned over and said, “Kid, I’m going to take my hand off your mouth. If you yell, I’m gonna stick this knife in your gut.”

  My gosh, my hair just stood up on the back of my neck when he said that. He took his hand off my mouth and held his knife out in front of me where I could see it. ’Course, I was just scared as a possum in the headlights, plum frozen, and I couldn’t have moved if my life depended on it, but I finally did manage to say, “Don’t hurt me. I won’t yell. I promise.”

  “Okay, but one sound out of you, and you’re gonna be one dead kid.”

  One of the other men that had been standing back in the shadows said, “Hell, Sam, there ain’t nothing to do now. We’s been found out. Let’s kill the kid and get out of here. Hell, he’s the one that done turned us in twice, and them bloodhounds nearly caught us. Let me knife him and let’s go, or he’ll have them hounds after us in no time a-tall.”

  Kill the kid? That’s me! Oh, my God! No! What can I do? ’Course, with one of his hands squeezing my neck and a knife about 6 inches from my throat there wasn’t much I could do. I’m gonna be killed! I’ll be dead as a sack of hammers in seconds.

  I could feel the man’s hand pinching the back of my neck, and he turned up my head. The other man who’d walked up pulled out a long switchblade knife and clicked it open. When I heard the click I looked up the man holding me, and he nodded his head. His hand loosened from around my neck just a little bit to let the other man cut my throat. Oh, God! No! Help me!

  “Come here, kid! This'll teach you not to sic them bloodhounds on us."

  Before I could move the man with the knife reached out and grabbed my hair and made a swing with the knife. Well, I sure wasn’t just gonna stand there while he cut my throat so I just went plum goofy kicking, waving my hands and I yelled, “No! No! Ahaa!” as I turned my head and jerked down at the same time. Dang, you don’t get no closer calls than that, because I felt the knife slice into my skin right along the back of my head, but something good did happen. When I jerked, the man holding me turned loose of my neck, and I fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes, but I didn’t just lay there. Boy, I started crawling, rolling and jumping like my life depended on it, and it dang sure did.

  “Get him! Don’t let him out of this barn!” one of them yelled, and they all ran over to the door, but I turned and by crawling and rolling I managed to get into a mule’s stall. I crawled right between Old John’s legs and stayed there huddled under him.

  “Damn it! Get the kid out of there!” the first man said.

  Well, for the next few minutes they grabbed at me from both sides of the mule, and I scurried around under Old John barely staying out of their reach, but they was about to hem me in. ‘’Course, Old John was getting real upset with me scurrying around under him while they tried to grab me.

  I can’t keep away much longer. Then one of them crawled under the stall gate, and I felt a hand grab my foot. My gosh, he was dragging me out. Oh, my good Lord in heaven above! I could see that man with the knife trying to pull me over to him with one hand while he got ready to stick me with it. ’Course, knowing he was gonna kill me if he pulled me over to the edge of the stall had me kicking and grabbing anything I could.

  “No! No!” I pulled back under Old John, and reached up to hold onto the mule, and I grabbed him somewhere that musta been real tender because that mule just did what any mule would do when he was grabbed there, he reared back and kicked.

  Whap!

  “Ohoooo! Damn!” The mule’s big steel horseshoe caught the man they called Sam right in the middle of his left shoulder and sent him flying backwards into the stall door. Wow, Old John was really spooked now, and he started jumping around flailing with kick after kick, while Sam, who was dazed from the first jolt, tried to crawl outta the stall. John missed with the second and third kicks, but the fourth one hit Sam right above the right knee and then the mule’s other foot came down squarely on his left toes.

  No kidding, that man said some words that I ain’t never heard before. He finally got back under the stall door, stood up and limped around the barn, and I mean you ain’t never heard cussing like that, but shoot, in a minute he was back at the stall swearing at me.

  “Oh, you worthless, no-good kid! I’m gonna get you now!” He was standing at the end of the stall holding his shoulder, while he looked around the barn. Then I saw him sneer as he gazed over at the hay bin. The day before, I’d been forking up hay for the mules, and my pitchfork was leaning up against the stall.

  Oh, dang, why didn’t I put up the pitchfork?

  “Len, hand me that pitchfork.” He took the pitchfork, walked back into the stall, and drew back to stick me.

  I’ve gotta do something or I’m finished. Wow, did you know when something like that happens you just start saying anything you can think of? I shor did.

  “Please stop! I can help you escape!” Heck, for the life of me I can’t remember why I said that. Shoot, I couldn’t help them escape, but it worked, at least for a while. He was almost ready to stick me with that pitchfork when he stopped and looked at me.

  “Come on, kid, we’ve been runnin’ through that damn swamp for weeks, and they’ve got every road blocked. Just how do you figure on getting us out of the swamp and away from the law?—We ain’t got time to fool with you.”

  He drew the pitchfork back again and started for me. Then one of them other men yelled to him, “Wait a minute, Sam, it won’t hurt none to hear what he’s gonna say. Hear him out. Kid, just how c
an you help us?”

  Sam pulled the pitchfork back and waited for me to say something, and boy did my little mind start a-spinning. Tell them anything! Anything that’ll keep you alive. That’s what I thought, when I started my big lie.

  “Well, you don’t know Flat Creek Swamp like I do. I know them woods and creek bottoms like the back of my hand, and I can take you anywhere you need to go. And listen,” (boy I was really fibbing now) “Flat Creek crosses the railroad tracks, and right by the creek there’s a switching track where the freight trains hafta slow down, and when they slow down you can easily hop in one of them boxcars.”

  I don’t know how I managed to tell all those lies with a pitchfork ready to poke me, but shoot, those guys musta been so dumb or desperate they’d listen to a 13 year old boy. Sam pulled the pitchfork back and looked down at me.

  “You mean you can take us to the railroad through the woods without crossing the road?”

  “Yes, sir, you bet. I know how to get through them woods, and I know exactly where the switching place is that’ll slow down the train,” I lied.

  Sam looked over to where the other two men were standing, and one of them asked him, “Well, whata you think, Sam?”

  Well, they argued over whether to kill me or let me help them, and I was just about to die still sitting there under John, finally, this man Sam, who seemed to be the boss, finally said, “Look, you two, if this kid can take us to the railroad tracks, we just might get away. If he’s lyin’, I’ll kill ’em with my bare hands. So let’s go!”

  Well, I took a deep breath, and figured I’d at least put off being knifed, but since they wasn’t no railroads tracks on this side of the road, maybe I’d just put off being killed for a few hours.

  “Hey, kid come on out from under that damn mule. You’re going with us.”

  I crawled out and stood there by Sam, and he looked at the back of my head.

  “Hell, kid, you ain’t hurt. That knife just scratched you. Come on, we better get out of here while we can.”

  As we started to walk out of the barn, I overheard one of them whispering in Sam’s ear: “Kill him later, when we get to the tracks.”

  Oh, my gosh, even if I help them escape, they’re gonna kill me.

  “Okay, kid, if you do what we say and lead us to the tracks, we won’t kill ya. But if you try anything or call out, I’ll stick you right in the throat,” said that lying dog, Sam. Then he picked up a rope hanging on the mule’s stall and tied one end around my neck and the other end to his waist.

  “One stupid move or yell, and I’ll snap your scrawny neck with this rope. This is just a little insurance that you won’t try to run away. Let’s get going; lead the way, kid.”

  Dadgum, I’m being kidnapped!

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Kidnapped!

  “This way,” I said. Boy, I ran across that field acting like I knew just exactly where I was going. Shoot, I didn’t have a clue where to go. There weren’t no danged railroad tracks in that part of Flat Creek Swamp. Heck, with a sorry convict ready to stick me with that knife, I was gonna do everything I could think of to make him believe he needed me to get away. As I ran across the pasture toward the woods, all I was thinking about was how to circle and circle until I could get away, or maybe until Daddy missed me and called the sheriff.

  “Y’all head for that big beech tree over in the edge of the pasture!” I hollered.

  We’d been gone about 20 minutes when I heard a long whistle, and then another and another. It was Daddy. Go get the state police, Daddy. Hurry, bring all the bloodhounds, and sic ’em on these bad men.

  “What the hell is that?” one of the guys said.

  “It’s my Daddy. He’s calling me home.”

  “Well, you ain’t goin’ nowheres, but through these here woods,” Sam said. Then, just for pure danged meanness, he yanked the rope causing it to burn the skin on my neck.

  “Oh! Oh! You’re hurting me!”

  “Shut up, or I’ll yank your head off!”

  Dang him, anyway. Boy, I just hoped when they caught them guys, I could go up to Tucker Prison and watch when they strapped that sorry bunch in the electric chair.

  We were way deep in the swamp now, and as we walked along, I’d been thinking of what to do just to stay alive. My really good plan was to circle and circle because of course, they weren’t no railroad tracks in this part of the swamp. I sure hoped Daddy had called the state police, and the bloodhounds were already out looking for us. I figured that the more we circled back toward my house the better chance the bloodhounds had to pick up our trail. It was hard going slopping through all that swamp muck, and after several more hours of wading, Sam, the man holding the rope, started to mutter and cuss under his breath. I just knew he was gonna say, “Looky here, boys, we done been by here.” ‘’Course, he’d know right then we was just going in circles, and he’d stick me with that knife, and I’d be a goner.

  I kept telling him, “Sam, we don’t have far to go now. I promise. Just follow me.” ‘’Course, I was lying like some sorry yard dog. We’d just made another circle up real close to the back of our back field, and I turned to go back into the deepest part of the swamp when I heard the hounds.

  “Hooooooo! Hoooooo!”

  One of the bloodhounds was baying, and I’m not kidding you, it was like old Gabriel was blowing his horn. I was so excited I could hardly stand it because the State Police and the Tucker Prison bloodhounds were hot on our trail coming after that sorry bunch. Then the second and third hound picked up the howling, and I could tell they were only a couple of hundred yards behind us.

  “Get movin’, kid. Them damn dogs is gettin’ close… head for some water!”

  Come on, dogs, catch us.

  Since I’d been walking with that sorry bunch most of the morning, I knew their names. The leader was Sam, a big man with white, pocked-marked skin and dark blond hair. He was taller than my daddy and it looked like he weighed a bunch more.

  The other two were Jim and Len. Jim was a short heavy-set man with coal-black hair, and a real ugly scar over his left eye. Len, the other escapee, was a funny-looking man, taller than Jim, but thin and kinda sickly. None of them had shaved for several weeks, and their eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep. They was a sorry looking bunch. I found out from listening to them that they were just bums who’d been hitchhiking together when they decided to try a filling station robbery, and they’d shot the man because he couldn’t open the safe. Len kept saying they was gonna fry in the electric chair if they was caught.

  “Hurry up, damn it!” yelled Jim. “Them dogs is gettin’ close! You better run! If ’em Tucker Prison dogs catches you they’ll chew your ass up! They teaches ’em to just go right for you!”

  “Kid, find us some water, or I’m gonna stick this knife right through your gut!” said Sam. My gosh, he looked so mean when he said that. I figured I’d better find some water. Shoot, I got high behind it.

  “This way! The creek and swamp are just ahead!” I yelled. We struggled through a dense canebrake and came to the edge of the big beaver pond.

  “God, that ain’t no creek! That’s a lake! What in the hell are we gonna do now?” said Sam. Well, it looked like a big lake, but even though it covered several hundred acres, it was shallow, full of trees, and only 2 feet deep in the deepest part. Heck, it was just a big old beaver pond.

  “Kid, you took us to a dead-end! How in the hell are we gonna get across this damn lake? I’m gonna choke the life out of you!” mumbled Sam through gritted teeth.

  He started for me with that danged knife sticking out like he was gonna gig me like a frog, and I started yelling about how we could cross the lake.

  “Wait, Sam!” I hollered. “This water’s only knee-deep! It ain’t deep anywheres! We can wade across the lake easy—and them dogs will lose our trail.”

  Sam stopped and gave me one of them sideways looks, like “you better not be a-lying.” ‘Course, I wasn’t—this time. That dang lake is s
o shallow you can just walk anywhere without it coming up to your waist—but watch out for snakes. That lake is snake city.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, sir, I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die! It’s shallow!”

  “Well, lead out, and if you go under, you’re dead!”

  “Let’s go!”

  We splashed in and after about 20 minutes of wading, we heard the dogs stop barking.

  “Ha, them damn dogs can’t find us now!” Jim kinda laughed like he was real smart because he’d fooled a dumb dog.

  “Kid, you were right this time, but you better find them damn railroad tracks real soon. My patience’s done run out.”

  “It was the dogs, Sam. We were almost there when we had to run back into the swamp.” My God, what a lie. “We need to go down the middle of the pond to the creek and cross the beaver dam. It’s straight ahead. Follow me.” Wow, I was getting to be a real good liar.

  In a few minutes, we were almost in the middle of the swampy pond. Several snakes had swum out of our way, and Sam was getting a little nervous.

  “Dang, this place gives me the creeps!” He muttered. He splashed ahead, poking the bushes to be sure there were no snakes in them.

  In a few minutes we could see the beaver dam ahead. Along the dam, a bank of willow trees had grown up so thick that they hung out over the water and created almost a tunnel of high limbs and thick leaves stretching out over the flooded swamp. I knew better than to walk under all those willow limbs, because the big water snakes and water moccasins was always getting up in them looking for tree frogs. Shoot, it was still plenty warm enough for snakes to be out, and they’d be up in the leaves just hanging there waiting to fall off in the water if some idiot bothered them. It shor wasn’t gonna be me, and I started to go way around all them overhanging willow limbs when Sam said, “Kid, don’t go around those trees. You’re going out of the way. We need to get on down this creek. Quit trying to kill time circlin’ around in this lake.”