by Lila Beckham
The little house was dimly lit and when they first walked in, neither of them could see very well. Carlos apologized for the dimness of the room and the messiness. He said that he was not much when it came to cleaning and that his mother was not able to. Carlos said his mother preferred it dark because the bright light hurt her eyes.
Mrs. Pack turned on a lamp that set on an end table by the couch and sat down. She told Joshua and James that they were not going to grow any taller; they may as well take a seat. Her voice crackled with age; however, her tone and accent was soothing to Joshua’s ears. She smoothed her worn, faded skirt and said:
“Carlos, put a pot of coffee on for these gentlemen.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Carlos replied turning toward a small stove that sat next to a sink cabinet in the corner of the room.
Joshua’s eyes had adjusted to the lighting by then and he got his first good look at the inside of the house. There was not much to it; practically everything was in one room. A bed, a nightstand, a slop jar, and a large trunk sat in the furthest corner. A quilting rack hung from the ceiling. The kitchen area was in the opposite corner; an area used for dining and food preparation. The area where she sat held a couch, a small portable television, several small tables and a rocking chair. The final corner held a small cot and a wooden crate covered with a woven blanket that was being used as a bedside table. Joshua took a seat in the rocker, which left James to sit on the couch beside Mrs. Pack.
Undoubtedly, while he was looking around, Mrs. Pack was watching him. She said, “I know it’s not much, Sheriff, but it is my home. I raised four offspring in this little house. Back then, I had to cook outside on a fire pit, now I have a stove and running water. If I had room, I would have them put me one of those store bought toilets in here. Now lean in a little bit and let me get a good look at you.” Joshua did as told.
“Ma, the sheriff is Joshua Stokes,” Carlos told her. “We’ve known one another for a few years now.”
His mother nodded her head and then turned to look at Hook.
“That there is Hook. I know him too,” Carlos assured her. “Y’all this is my mother, Margie Redfeather Pack.” both Joshua and James told her it was nice to meet her. Carlos said that he needed to break in before she began telling them about when she was growing up and how her parents and seven children lived in a teepee.
Carlos did not appear ill at ease; Joshua did not know why he was lying to Carlene about his mother being on her deathbed. Mrs. Pack seemed spry to him and did not appear to be dying. It was none of his business why, but he reckoned that Carlos had his reasons for telling her so and staying at the Rez with his mother.
“Why would they brand you with a name like, ‘Hook’ young man,” Margie Redfeather asked James as he sat down. James grinned sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders.
“They’ve called me that since grade school, ma’am; it just kind a stuck.” Joshua could not help but smile at James awkwardness.
“What are you grinning about, Sheriff? Do you want to share it with the rest of us?”
“No ma’am, I just like seeing him squirm, that’s all.” Margie Redfeather did not seem to grasp Joshua’s humor. His mood turned serious.
“Miss Margie, I know it has been awhile, but do you remember a young girl from back in the twenties, named Annaleigh Touart? She and her younger brother and sister ended up in the orphanage in Mobile. The younger children were quickly adopted, but not Annaleigh. She was raised there, schooled there, and then took a job at the courthouse; that was where she met and married my father. Annaleigh was my mother.” Before Margie could answer him, Joshua pulled the photograph of his mother and her siblings out of his pocket and handed it to her. He could not gage from her expression whether she recognized his mother’s name or not, and he was not sure if she could see the photo.
“Carlos, can you come over here and raise this curtain behind me, so I can look upon their faces.” Without a word, Carlos did as told. Joshua could tell that he was also curious about the photograph. As Margie drew it closer to her eyes, Carlos stood behind his mother, pulled his reading glasses from his pocket, and gazed down at the photograph. When she looked over the picture at Joshua, he felt a shiver run down his spine. ‘Oops, someone just walked over your grave.’ he heard a voice whisper in his ear.
“Go on, get out of here!” said Margie harshly, pointing her finger toward him. A surprised Joshua began to apologize for having angered her. “Not you, Sheriff. I was talking to him, Jericho,” she pointed over Joshua’s shoulder.
He turned to see a faint apparition standing behind him.
Flustered, Carlos said, “Mama, don’t start all of that ghost stuff again.” James looked at all of them as if they were crazy. When Joshua looked again, the apparition was gone.
“Who is or was this Jericho?” Joshua asked, aiming his query at Margie.
“He was my father,” Carlos replied, his embarrassment apparent on his face. “Ma thinks he is here for her and that she will die soon.” Margie ignored Carlos’ explanation.
“He likes to sneak up on people and jump them if he can,” Margie said matter-of-factly. “He probably ran his finger up your spine to test you first-didn’t he?”
“Yeah, he did.”
“I knew it!” she yelped, “When I looked up, I saw him whisper in your ear. You have the gift, the same as I have; the same as your grandfather had. That was what drove him insane though. You are bound by blood, stay strong.” her words shocked Joshua.
“My grandfather, you, what do you mean… did you know my grandfather?”
“Of course I knew him; he was my brother; he was Annaleigh’s father.”
18
Bound by Blood
A shirtless Joshua stopped chopping wood and turned toward Emma. He propped the axe against his leg and then waited to see what she wanted. He did not immediately look her in the eye. Instead, he pulled his smokes from his back pocket and lit one.
He took a long draw and inhaled it deeply. He exhaled slowly, trying to let the tension ease out of his body with the smoke. Her bothering him when he wanted to be alone annoyed him and tried his patience.
She had stood behind him for several minutes before he finally stopped. He hoped she would take the hint and leave him alone. If she had just gone on, it would have pleased him; he was not in any mood to chat. However, it did not appear that she intended to leave before he stopped and talked to her.
Chopping wood was helping to rid some of his anxiety and helping him process all that Margie had told him about his mother’s family. He had gotten more information than he had ever hoped to and he had been mulling over all that Margie had told him of Annaleigh’s parents - his grandparents. He now knew who his mother was, who her parents and grandparents were, and that his grandfather had some sort of mental illness. It ran in the family according to Margie.
His grandfather, Annaleigh’s father, had gone nuts, killed his wife and buried her body behind their house. Then he took the children, left the reservation, and holed up somewhere near the Mississippi State Line. She said that from what Annaleigh told her, while she and the other children slept, he committed suicide.
When she told him this, Joshua wondered why his mother had told Vivian and others at the orphanage a different story than the one Margie was telling… maybe his mother did not want people to know about her father’s mental illness.
Margie said that his grandfather did not physically harm the children; however, they did see him dead. Annaleigh was the one that found him; apparently, he had slit his own throat with his hunting knife. What a hell of a way to die, thought Joshua. Margie said that folks on the Rez thought the entire family had gone somewhere together. According to her, the family did that from time to time. They would go over into Georgia, Florida, or Mississippi on hunting and fishing expeditions and be gone for several weeks at a time.
It was not until after they had been gone for several weeks that their kinfolk on the reservation began to worry for t
he safety of the children and their mother. From what Margie said, their kinfolks on the Rez knew that the father was dealing with some bad spirits, but did not know he had killed his wife, kidnapped his children, or that he had killed himself until after the children had been in the orphanage for several months. That was when Annaleigh gave them her name, her parent’s names, and grandparent’s names and told that they had lived on the reservation.
“Even then, those of us on the reservation did not take the children to rear as our own. It was extremely hard times for us here on the reservation, Sheriff, or should I call you nephew?” Margie asked. When he did not respond, she continued. “We could barely take care of our own children… we thought my brother’s children would be better off living with white families that could better care for them. We were bonded by blood; it was not an easy decision, Joshua,” Margie said solemnly.
He could tell by her tone that she did feel something for not taking in his mother and her siblings - he did not know if it was regret, sorrow, or if it was just plain sadness that Margie felt over her past decisions.
He pulled his thoughts from what Margie told him of his mother, and then tried to confront whatever it was that Emma wanted to talk to him about; however, she did not look him in the eye. Probably, because she could tell that he was annoyed and she expected him to snap at her. When she still did not look at him or speak, he asked what it was she wanted to ask or tell him. She looked into his eyes and then stumbled before she finally spoke. He could see that she was wrestling with her emotions; his ire abated.
Just looking into Joshua’s eyes caused Emma to lose what courage she had worked up as she watched him chop wood. His dark hair hung damp and limp, his green eyes pierced through to her soul, searching it from within. Why does he have to be so damn sexy and good-looking, thought Emma? She wanted him so badly that she could hardly stand still. Then, she saw his eyes soften.
Lifting her chin, she said, “What I said this morning was a lie. It was more than just a thing. At least for me it was. I know that I am young and you look upon me as a child; I am not a child. I am not looking for a father figure either. Last night, I needed you; I wanted you to make love to me. I want you to keep making love to me until I have had my fill, or until you have, whichever comes first.” When Joshua did not respond, she said “You don’t have to commit to me, I know that is not who you are. If you wanted that, you would not be living here alone… What we shared last night was beautiful; I don’t want to lose that.”
Joshua did not know how to respond. He could hear Terry Reid’s soulful ballad, ‘Seed of Memory’ playing on the radio that Emma kept on all the time; it soothed him. What she told him was not what he was expecting; he took a long draw of his cigarette before he answered.
“Last night was unexpected. I think I needed you as much as you needed me, and it was beautiful, Emma, but I am old enough to be your father. There could be no expectations of a life together. You’re young; you need a younger man to build your life around, not an old has been like me. I know you feel safe here, and that is much of it, but I don’t want you to waste your time-to wrap yourself in a safe cocoon out here and let life pass you by. You know I’m right.”
“It won’t be like that, I promise… And if you don’t want to make love to me again, which I hope is not the case, I will understand.”
“Want doesn’t have anything to do with it, Emma. Men always want sex… just like last night. Sex wasn’t even on my mind, that was the last thing I expected when I went to bed-actually, I don’t even remember going to bed-but I did not turn it down.”
“I heard you come in and go into your room. As I lay there thinking of you in that bed, I was overcome with a need to be close to you. I wanted you to hold me in your arms the way you did when you hugged me; it made me feel so safe. As I lay there and felt your body against mine, I not only felt safe, you made me want to bury you deep inside me… and me inside you. I wanted us to meld together. That is the only way I can explain it.”
Joshua could not deny that they had great sex the night before; they had become one, in more ways than one, but he did not want their relationship to go any further than that. He had not even wanted that, it just happened. He could not undo it, and if it just happened again, that would be great; if not, he could live without it. He was not so sure about Emma. He thought she was looking for someone to love her unconditionally, and that she was confusing sex with love or that having sex with someone meant they loved you and you loved them.
“If I get to feeling like that again, Sheriff, can I come to you… will you…” Emma reached out, placed her hand on his chest, and then stepped closer.
Joshua could not deny that she aroused a desire in him, even now, simply standing there in the yard. Maybe it was because of the night before, her young naked body wrapping itself around his…
“Will you make love to me again?” Emma asked.
Joshua, did not answer her, he simply nodded his head. She tiptoed, kissed his cheek, and then turned and walked back toward the porch. ‘New Orleans Ladies,’ by Louisiana’s LeRoux was playing on the radio and her body seemed to sway to the music as she walked. Joshua took a deep breath and returned to the woodpile. He wanted to follow her swaying body right on into the bedroom, but he could not do that; he would not do that!
As soon as he began chopping wood again, the urge left him; it was replaced by thoughts of the streets of New Orleans, ‘The Big Easy’ was the nickname given it by its slow-paced denizens. Others that enjoyed its slow pace also called it that or similar names. It had been a long time since he had visited ‘N’Awlins.’ The voice and accent of Addison Hayes, the old Monroeville lawyer he admired so much in his youth, said the name in his mind; it flowed smoothly through his brain.
Addison was wise with age and very knowledgeable. He had given Joshua sage advice in his youth; advice he fell back on from time to time when dealing with people. He wished he had given him instructions on how to deal with a horny young woman.
He had so much he needed to tend to; having sex with Emma was not high on the list. He needed to check in with his deputies. He needed to get copies made of the photographs in Vivian’s album. He needed to check on Roy and Royce McGregor. He needed to check in with the federal boys and see what was going on with the Train Track Killer case. He just needed to get his priorities in order. He definitely wanted to find his mother’s journal and if possible, find out what happened to her. He also wanted to explore the unsolved case files more in depth, for he knew in his gut that many of those had to do with the senior Dixon’s killing spree. After that was out of the way, he wanted to look into his kinfolk, those bound not only by blood, but also by heritage.
He gathered what wood he had chopped and stacked it neatly by the porch. Emma was definitely a homebody and the only means of cooking was the woodstove. He wanted to shower but something held him back. He did not know if it was for fear of Emma joining him or catching him naked while changing clothes and coming on to him.
With that thought, he thought of Margie and the spirit of Jericho trying to jump in his skin. He had never heard of such in his life, but he’d felt it, as surely as he felt his arm and back muscles stiffening from the strain of wielding the axe. He walked into the kitchen got a bottle of whiskey, a glass, and a pack of cigarettes, and then walked back out onto the porch. Emma was lying in the swing listening to the radio. It was late in the afternoon by then. He had just poured himself a half a glass of whiskey when he heard a car coming down his driveway. He did not get up; instead he propped his feet on the railing and lit a smoke. He knew that whoever it was would come to the back if they were looking for him.
19
Unfamiliar Territory
John Metcalf called out from the front yard. Joshua hollered and told him to come around to the back porch. He watched Emma stretch and then sit up; her long, smooth legs glistened in the waning rays of sunlight that pierced through the trees.
“I haven’t seen you in a c
ouple of days, Sheriff. I was on my way to my folk’s house and just thought I would stop by and see your place. You told me to stop by sometimes.”
“You’re welcome to come by anytime,” Joshua replied. He saw John staring at Emma and said, “John, you remember Emma, don’t you? She has been staying here doing some cleaning for me.”
“Yes, certainly, how have you been?” John asked.
“I’m good,” Emma replied. “I’m sorry but I don’t remember you,” she apologized.
Joshua could see Emma’s interest in the younger man. John was a handsome fellow, and he saw John’s admiration of Emma’s good looks. It did not hurt his feelings at all. Maybe John would take some of Emma’s attention from him. The sex had been nice, but he did not feel comfortable getting into a relationship with someone as young as she was.
“What did you find out about the floater from the other day?”
“Just like you figured, Sheriff, he fell from a rig twenty-five miles out in the gulf.”
“That’s good; well it’s good that it was an accident. Have you heard anything from our federal friends?” Joshua asked.
“No, sir, not yet, but I heard there was a murder over in Mississippi and two in Louisiana since those we had here.”
“He moves on quick like. It doesn’t give anyone time to pin him down.”
“Yes, sir, he does…” Metcalf hesitated. “I hoped we could stop him here, but it looks like he might make it into Mexico before they catch him.”
“Yeah, there are too many sets of rails leading to the border to cover all of them. I hate that more women have lost their lives. I would have liked to catch him too, but to tell the truth, I am glad he is gone from here. Not meaning to change the subject, John, but I was wondering, do you know anything about the mortuary in Green County?”
“Not very much, Sheriff, but I remember going to a wake and funeral over there with my folks a few years back. Why?”
“I need to look into some things concerning information I picked up while looking into my mother’s disappearance.” Just then, Joshua heard the intro to the Three Dog Night song, ‘Mama Told Me not the Come,’ begin playing on the radio. Emma stood and danced a jig as she headed toward the back door. It reminded Joshua very much of her mother, Pearl. He looked toward John Metcalf just as Emma asked John if he had ever smoked a joint. The surprised look on Metcalf’s face caused him to smile.
