by Lila Beckham
If God made us in his image, and Jesus Christ was God in the flesh, then we would all be related. Maybe this genetic code is a ‘marker’ so that God can identify us from all others. It is believed that it holds everything we have ever done, thought, or said within its tightly woven threads. Who’s to say that Adam and Eve did not carry God’s blood in their veins? According to God’s word, we are all washed in the blood of the lamb. We were sanctified the day they nailed Jesus Christ to the cross and crucified him. He became our salvation; our ‘get out of Hell’ free card, if you will.”
Debbie brought their platters over to the table, placing each item just so before she left them to wait on other customers.
“I try to be a connoisseur of life, Joshua,” Carolyn said as she picked up her fork. “I read and I research while I write. I have written on many topics, however, my personal favorite thing to write is a novel based on my life experiences. Everyone we meet has a story to tell; I can only imagine what yours would be. However, I will take this luncheon you and I am sharing, and turn it into a story that readers will want to read.”
“Hmm,” Joshua said and then popped an oyster into his mouth.
“Strangers who meet at a small out of the way restaurant near the bay, who share a meal and end up falling in love, only to be swept away by a storm that swoops in out of the Gulf of Mexico and carries them away from each other…” Carolyn stopped to take a bite of fish and a sip of wine. When she glanced up at him, Joshua looked deeply into the dark pools that were her eyes.
“I could see that happening,” he said softly.
“What I wouldn’t give to be twenty years younger, Joshua Stokes!” Carolyn exclaimed before she took another sip of wine. “I think I would call it ‘Time in a Bottle’ like that first song we listened to,” she said before taking another bite of her lunch.
Joshua could envision what Carolyn was saying, even the hurricane sweeping in out of the gulf and separating them. He could see himself reaching out, their fingertips almost touching before the wind changed directions and blew him the other way. “How about Winds of Change,” he suggested.
“You do get it, don’t you, Joshua.”
“Yes, I do, Carolyn,” he replied, watching her wine glass travel to her lips. A desire to kiss her filled his senses. She was a beautiful, mature woman. He felt a strong physical attraction to her.
“Where will you go when you leave here?” he asked.
“That depends on you, Joshua. Where do you want me to go when I leave here?”
“To my bed,” he replied honestly.
33
Bad Moon Rising
Creedence Clearwater Revival’s song ‘Fortunate Son’ blared through the speakers as Joshua crossed Polecat Bay headed back toward Mobile. He had left Carolyn’s antebellum style home that backed up to the property surrounding the historic old Fort Blakeley just before dawn broke. When he left her house, a faint lightening in the east signaled that the sun was about to start its westward climb. When he reached the bay, he had parked at Lookout Point and watched it rise above South Alabama like a vast magician’s wand that spread and swirled a colorful rainbow across the bay. At first, the skies were a purplish blue, with golden yellow, pink, and orange waves of color. They then proceeded to turn lighter as the sun rose higher until the sky was pure blue with streaks of white wispy clouds floating effortlessly across it.
As he traveled west on the Causeway he saw the moon, it appeared to be rising. He had always heard that if you saw the moon rising in the west while the sun was rising in the east, it was a bad moon, a bad omen. It meant that very soon bad things would begin to happen, usually when the sun lowered in the western sky.
Joshua did not know where the saying came from, however he had seen it happen. A day would start out beautifully and then by the end of the day, you would be left wondering what the hell happened. He thought that was where John Fogerty had come up with the lyrics of his song ‘Bad Moon Rising.’ However, he was not privy to Fogerty’s thoughts; it was just a guess on his part. After such a great day the day before and a lovely night spent in the arms of a gracious and beautiful woman, both slow dancing to Hank Williams Jr. and slow explorations of each others bodies, Joshua hated for anything to spoil his good mood. He had not felt so relaxed and carefree in quite a while.
Carolyn was beautiful in every essence of the word. She was physically beautiful; her black hair falling softly over the white lace of the negligee she wore… she looked like an older version of Jessi Colter. She was also brilliant of mind and a wonderful conversationalist. In addition to those qualities, she was lover like none other he had ever had the privilege of bedding. Carolyn had said that he had a story to tell and he hoped he had given her the inspiration she needed to tell it.
Joshua lit a cigarette and took a long draw. The closer he got to the tunnel entrance to Mobile proper, the more his good mood began to dissipate. He did not want to stop at the Sheriff’s Office. His home had always been his haven, but he did not want to go there either. He figured that Emma would probably be sitting there waiting on him like a cat ready to pounce on a mouse.
Once he made it onto Springhill Avenue, he put the hammer down and headed toward Semmes. As he passed Semmes Nursery, he began to slow down. He was glad to see Hook’s pickup parked in front of the Hickory Pit; he parked, got out, and went inside.
Hook was sidled up to the bar with one leg thrown over a barstool talking to Sim Maples. He walked up and slapped James on the shoulder. Sim grinned and said, “Mornin’ Sheriff.”
“Morning Sim, Hook.” Joshua said to them.
James turned around and looked back at him. Their eyes met and locked for a moment.
“Good talking to you, Sim,” James said. “We’ll catch up later,” he said as he turned and ushered Joshua to a table. “Hey, Jeanne, bring me and the Sheriff a cup of coffee over here,” he called over his shoulder. “Now, you had better tell me what’s up with you, Joshua Stokes. I have not seen you look this refreshed in a long time. Something has happened that has changed you or at least caused you to relax, which is a good thing, but damn it, Hoss, it has stirred up my curiosity!”
Joshua could not help but smile, however, he was not sure he wanted to tell Hook everything that had transpired in the last twenty-four hours. Some things were just that personal. Sharing them seemed to spoil the decency of them. The time he had spent with Carolyn was just that, it was decent, it was pure, and it was honest. There was nothing about their time together that made him feel as if he had done anything wrong, like it was with Emma because of her age. He also knew that if he and Kathy had slept together, he would have felt bad afterward, because even though her husband spent most of his time in the loony bin, she was still married to him.
“Nothing’s happened, Hook. I think that close call with the lightning strike and the long hours of sleep I got in the hospital gave me a new lease on life, that’s all.”
“Nah, I know there is more to it than that. Damn it, Hoss, you look like the cat that ate the canary, tail feathers and all!”
“I had a good day and a good night. I just got away by myself for a night.”
“Bullshit!” James exclaimed. “You might run that bullshit by someone that don’t know you like I do, but you ain’t fooling me, Joshua Stokes. You are up to something or you done got into something. And if I had to guess, I’d say that it involves a woman.”
“Honestly, Hook, I had a good night, that’s all. And yes, it may involve a woman, but it’s not something I want to share, at least not yet. Let me enjoy it on my own for a little while first, then I might share.”
“Was it Emma - that young thang is gonna wear you slap out, Hoss!”
Joshua chuckled, “No, it wasn’t Emma. But you’re right, Hook, that girl is going to wear me out if I stay there, but I am not going to let her run me out of my own house. I need to try to figure out a way to get her out of there. I just hate to be mean and make her leave. I think the main reason she likes it th
ere is because she feels safe, but I am beginning to feel stifled. I can’t even walk around naked anymore. If I did, she’d be on me like a duck on a junebug!”
“I hate to break it to you, but you just might have to get mean and kick her ass out. You can’t let her run you out of your own home, Hoss. I feel for you, not! I think I’d like to have a young thing wanting to sex me up all the time,” James chuckled.
“Ilene may have a thing or two to say about that,” Joshua joked. Then his tone turned serious. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be, Hook. Don’t ever give up what you have there at home for a roll in the hay with a younger woman; it wouldn’t be worth it.”
“Yeah, I know you’re right, Hoss, but I’m beginning to feel old. It don’t hurt to dream once in a while. I reckon I will just have to live vicariously through you. Which reminds me, I know you’re still hiding something from me, and I’ll be biding my time til you tell me all about it?”
Joshua laughed and lit a cigarette. Jeanne had brought their coffee and coffee was best drunk with a good friend and a cigarette.
“Not meaning to change the subject,” Joshua said, “But I saw the moon rising in the west this morning while the sun was rising in the east. Isn’t there some old saying about a bad moon rising?”
“Yeah, I heard the old folks a saying that it meant something bad was coming from that direction. Usually, if you see it rising in the south, it means a hurricane’s a coming. The west can signal tornadoes, the north is usually cold weather related, etcetera, but sometimes it can mean trouble in another form can be coming from that direction. Hell, Hoss, you know how those old wives tales are, you have to take ‘em with a grain of salt.” They both heard the bell on the door jingle and each looked to see who walked in; it was Deputy Cook. He stopped and gazed around a moment, when he saw them, he came directly to their table.
“What’s up, Cookie?” Joshua asked, noticing the serious look on his deputy’s face.
“Sheriff, John Metcalf is trying to get a hold of you. That FBI feller done called and said that they’re sure that Mexican killed a woman in Hattiesburg a couple of days ago. He wanted to let y’all know that he might be headed back in this direction,” Cook said excitedly.
Joshua could tell that Deputy Cook was chomping at the bit over the expectation of the killer coming back into Mobile County; however, it was the last thing Joshua wanted to hear. He had hoped the dude would just ride the rails on into Mexico and disappear.
James gave Joshua a serious look as he lit a smoke. Joshua lit another and nodded his head. They were both thinking the same thing - Hattiesburg lay to the west of Mobile. Maybe that was what the moon was warning him of that morning.
When they walked out of the diner to their respective vehicles, both James and Joshua looked to the skies. The sun was about nine o’clock in the eastern sky and the moon was high, about three o’clock, in the western sky.
“Yep, it’s a bad moon alright” James said. “We had better watch our p’s and q’s. Be careful, Hoss,” he said as Joshua got behind the wheel of his patrol car.
“You do the same, Hook,” Joshua replied as he cranked his vehicle and drove out of the parking lot.
Joshua did not know why he dreaded going home, other than the fact that Emma was still in his house. The closer he got to the cabin the more he dreaded it. He was not frightened of her; he just did not want to hurt her feelings. She had already gone through more in her short life than many face in a lifetime.
When he pulled up to the front of the cabin, he saw that her moped was parked where she usually parked it. He sat there a minute before he opened the door to get out. When he did, he heard a piercing scream!
34
Whiplash
Joshua drew his revolver and made a mad dash for the back porch. As soon as he neared it, he saw a man coming out the backdoor. He did not have time to think. Instead of yelling ‘freeze’ as he probably should have, he pulled the trigger and dropped him in his tracks. The man landed at the foot of the steps. Once he hit the ground, the man doubled up and began moaning. Joshua was tempted to shoot him again, but his worry over Emma’s wellbeing caused him jump over the prone man and run into the kitchen. Emma lay in an ever-increasing pool of blood, her throat slashed.
Joshua ran into the bathroom grabbed a towel and hurried back to her. He used the towel to staunch the flow of blood by wrapping it tightly around her neck, but not tight enough to cut off her breathing. She was trying to talk, but he shushed her, telling her not to try to speak, that it could cause her to bleed more.
From out of nowhere, he felt someone behind him. He reached for his revolver, but it was not in his holster. He had laid it down somewhere while trying to help Emma!
“It’s me, Sheriff,” he heard someone exclaim. He turned to see John Metcalf standing behind him. “Here, let me do that. You take care of that man out there. He’s not dead, but he is in bad shape,” Metcalf said hurriedly, squatting to take over holding the towel around Emma’s neck.
Joshua stood up, looking for his weapon. He wanted to get it before going outside in case he had to shoot the intruder again. He found it on the floor beneath Emma’s shoulder. Picking it up Joshua headed for the back porch.
When he stepped onto the porch, he saw the man trying to crawl toward the river. He jumped off the porch, caught up to the man, grabbed him by the hair of the head, and jerked him backward. As soon as he got the man turned over, he realized that it could be the Train Track Killer. The man appeared to be part Hispanic or maybe even an Indian - he was dark complexioned but had green eyes. Joshua unsnapped the handcuffs off the back of his belt, twisted the man’s left arm behind his back and snapped the cuff into place. He did the same with the right arm. After he cuffed him, he raised the man’s sleeves to look at his forearms. Sure enough, the man had an encircled nautical star tattoo on his right forearm. It has to be him, thought Joshua, as he dragged the man back to the porch and laid him by the steps. He collected a length of rope that hung on a nail by the door, tied the man’s hands to a rung of the doorsteps, and went into the house to check on Emma.
“Call an ambulance, Sheriff. I think I can control the flow until they get here. If we try taking her ourselves, she might not make it alive.”
Joshua went to the phone and placed the call. Then he called the station and told Ida Mae to call Deputy Calvert on the radio and have him come to his house ASAP.
“Do you need me to relieve you?” he asked Metcalf who replied, “No, Sheriff. I got this; you take care of the prisoner.”
“He can bleed to death for all I care,” Joshua replied. He saw Emma raising her hand toward him. He squatted and took her hand. She squeezed his hand tightly, her eyes showing how afraid she actually was.
“Don’t be afraid, Emma,” he said softly. “I shot him and have him tied up outside. You’re gonna be fine as soon as they get you to the hospital and sew you up,” he said with more conviction in his voice than he actually felt. She had lost an awful lot of blood.
“Yes, you are going to be fine,” Metcalf assured her. Emma looked at him, smiled, and then looked back at Joshua. She smiled at him too. Her resilience always surprised him. She is one tough young woman, he thought to himself as he smiled back.
Joshua eased his hand from Emma’s, and John Metcalf took her hand. Joshua stood and walked to the screen door and looked out at the man tied to the doorsteps; he was still alive. He then walked to the kitchen sink and washed the blood from his hands. By then, he could hear sirens wailing in the distance. He walked onto the back porch and lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply and releasing it slowly. The river water shimmered through the trees, beckoning him to walk there. He wanted to go but knew he had to wait. He had to wait on Calvert to transport the prisoner, the ambulance to transport Emma, and to see if he would need to go with her. Too many things needed to be done. He inhaled again and blew it out. The man on the ground raised his head and looked at him.
“You should had killed me, Sheriff,” t
he man said, his Spanish accent thick.
“It wasn’t for lack of trying,” Joshua replied dryly. “If I had followed my first instincts you’d be dead.”
“Kill me, now, please, amigo” the Mexican begged.
“I think I’d rather watch you die slowly,” Joshua replied, adding, “If that girl in there dies, you can bet your sweet ass you’ll get your wish, Ese.”
The Mexican chuckled at Joshua’s use of the Spanish word ‘Ese’. Joshua wanted to kick his teeth in.
“I should had know de whip will lash back a hit me. Even when you expect de worse, you can get worsen…” the Mexican’s words trailed off as Calvert’s cruiser came flying up into the yard. Calvert jumped out and came running up to the prisoner.
“Is that the Mexican we’ve been looking for?” he asked as he put a hand on his hip and spat on the ground.
“Yep, I do believe so,” Joshua replied.
“Good work, Sheriff. I’m glad he didn’t get any further. Its funny how he ended up here at a lawman’s house,” he said and spat again. This time the brown spittle of his chewing tobacco hit the Mexican’s foot. “I hate that you had to be the one to shoot him. Another shooting, on top of what they’re already wanting to have an inquest about… they’ll chock it up to just another notch on your trigger finger.”
“I know they think I’m trigger happy and shot someone just to be shooting them, but they can believe what the hell they want to believe. I know the truth and so does God.”
“That might not help though, Sheriff. I can take this shooting if you want me too. It might take some of the heat off of you.”
