The Mystery of the Canebrake

by Richard Mason

  “You liars! I don’t believe it.”

  “Well, Rosalie, John Clayton is a fast reader. He can read a chapter just like that,” and I snapped my fingers.

  “Sure, I can, and I’ll prove it. Rosalie, bring me a Bible, and I’ll show you how fast I can read a chapter.”

  “Okay, Mr. Smarty, I’ll be right back.” Rosalie lived only a few blocks behind Echols Grocery, so in no time she was back at the breadbox. Tiny and Ears walked up, and we were telling them how the girls had accused us of not reading all the chapters we’d taken credit for and how John Clayton was gonna prove them wrong once and for all. Freckles was standing back just watching and giving me a big grin every now and then. She thought Rosalie was funny because she was so upset with John Clayton.

  “Here’s the Bible. Let’s see you read a chapter.”

  “Okay, Rosalie, you pick out any chapter and I’ll read it.”

  Rosalie opened the Bible, and slowly turned to the book of John.

  “Here, start right here at Chapter One.”

  “Okay, give me the Bible.” John Clayton took the Bible and stood up on the breadbox and read.

  “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”

  “There that wasn’t so hard.”

  “Well, keep reading.”

  “What do you mean keep readin’? I’ve done already read one chapter.”

  “One chapter? You’ve just read one verse!”

  “Oh no, I haven’t; I’ve read one chapter!”

  Me and Ears both chimed in, “Yes, he has, Rosalie, John Clayton has read a chapter.”

  “You stupid idiots, surely you didn’t stand up and tell the whole church you’d been reading chapters when you’d actually been reading verses? Oh my god, and then you got us all to pledge, right there in church, we’d read five chapters a day for three months!”

  Rosalie started making little funny sounds she was so mad, and I begin to have a little doubt. Just about then, the store door opened, and Mr. Echols walked out, heading across the street.

  “Mr. Echols,” said Rosalie, “would you help us with something?”

  “Sure, Rosalie. What is it?”

  “Well, we have been talking about the Bible, and some of us are confused about books, chapters, and verses.”

  “Oh, that’s easy. Here, let me show you.”

  He reached over and took the Bible from John Clayton.

  “John Clayton has the Bible opened to the book of John. The Bible is broken down into books, like the book of John, and then the book of John is broken down into chapters, and the chapters are broken down into verses.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Echols. I think we understand it now.”

  Mr. Echols handed the Bible back to John Clayton and walked across the street.

  “You sorry, stinking, dirty, little cheaters! I stayed up almost all night reading the Bible, and you, you, you, worthless, little liars spent 10 minutes reading a few verses and then you stood up in front of the church and took credit for reading whole chapters! Ahaaaaaa, and then you forced us to pledge to read five chapters a day for three months!”

  Boy, was Rosalie mad. Heck, I was backing away because I figured she was about to start swinging.

  “And let me tell you something! Because y’all cheated and lied in church, you’re gonna burn in hell! Yeah, every one of you sorry little cheaters, but especially you, John Clayton!”

  Well, John Clayton thought that was funny, but Ears was a little upset about the prospect of going to hell.

  “Hey, wait a minute, Rosalie,” said Ears. “We ain’t goin’ to hell. Richard done told us we ain’t accountable. Just like a baby. Jesus ain’t gonna send no babies to hell.”

  “Accountable? Accountable?” screamed Rosalie. “Do you think just because you’re stupid, you’re not going to hell? Well, let me ask you something, Ears. Do you know right from wrong?” Rosalie grabbed Ears by the front of his overalls and just slung him around. Heck, I was waving my head “no,” but Ears was so shook up he didn’t see me.

  I knew that was a question Ears shouldn’t answer, but before I could stop him, Ears said, “Sure I do.”

  “Well, then, Ears, I know you haven’t been baptized, and if you die tonight, you’re going to go straight to hell and fry like a big piece of catfish in boiling oil! You’re gonna burn, Ears! Burn! Burn!”

  Well, Ears had the look of a rabbit in headlights as Rosalie screamed out “Burn!”

  “What? What? Richard, you told us we had to be 14 before we was accountable!”

  Ears was really upset, but John Clayton who had been taking all this in was laughing. “Wait a minute!” said John Clayton. “We might have made a small mistake, but

  we’re not gonna go to hell just ’cause we thought verses were chapters.”

  “Hah, yes, you are!” yelled Rosalie. “You stood up right there in the church and lied before God and everybody. You’re going straight to hell for that! And if that wasn’t enough, making all us kids lie and say we were gonna read five chapters of the Bible a day is gonna send you down to the very bottom of hell!”

  Ears was really getting upset, but John Clayton was still smiling, and finally he waved the Bible and everybody looked up and quieted down. “Okay, listen, everybody. I’m gonna correct this very small mistake.” John Clayton placed his hand on the Bible and said, “I hereby resign as the Norphlet Junior Champion Scripture Reader, and I give my title to Little Miss Wordy Mouth, Rosalie. She’ll now be known as W. M., short for Wordy Mouth. Hooo! Hooo! Hooo! Ha! Ha!”

  Then, before the girls could say anything, he waved his hands out like he was Jesus or something and said, “And by the power vested in me I release y’all from reading the five chapters a day.”

  The boys all laughed and the girls just stood there and fumed, until Rosalie yelled at John Clayton, “You’re making fun of God, John Clayton! If God sends a lightning bolt through that stupid head of yours, it’ll be what you deserve!”

  “Naw, I ain’t, Rosalie. Heck, what’s the big deal?”

  “Sure, it’s no big deal to you, you stupid, little rat; you stand up in front of the whole church and take credit for reading 68 chapters of the Bible when you only read 68 verses, and we stayed up all night reading entire chapters. You didn’t even read one chapter! You’re not going to get away with that by standing on a breadbox and giving up your title. I’m going to see Brother Taylor.” And with that the girls walked off.

  “Dang, Richard, why did you tell us one of them little verses was a chapter. Brother Taylor’s really gonna be mad when Rosalie tells him we cheated.”

  “Listen, Ears, we didn’t cheat. We just got mixed up. Cheating is when you know better, and you do it anyway.” Well, that satisfied everybody, and we settled back on the breadbox, with Ears talking about going to hell.

  Heck, Ears was just shaking with the thought of going to hell, and I knew he was gonna walk the aisle Sunday, and if Ears got saved, then Brother Taylor would be so happy, he’d forget about the little chapter and verses problem, and the five chapters of the Bible we were supposed to read just wouldn’t be mentioned.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  War News and a Race

  Another week passed and then late on a rainy April afternoon we were all shocked with some very upsetting news. I walked home from school that afternoon and just before I walked into my front yard, Mrs. Henley called to me from across the road. The Henleys live directly across the road from our house, and since they’re our closest neighbors we’re pretty good friends.

  “Richard, tell your mother President Roosevelt died.”

  “President Roosevelt died?”

  “Yes, I just heard it on the radio.”

  Gosh, I was just so upset, thinking about how the War was still going on and now our President had died. What will happen with the War? Will we quit? I couldn’t remember any president but President Roosevelt, and that really upset me.

  I walked into the kitchen whe
re Momma was fixing supper.

  “Momma, Mrs. Henley just told me President Roosevelt died.”

  “Oh, Richard, surely not. Where did she hear it?”

  “On the radio, Momma.”

  Momma walked over to the kitchen table and turned on our radio and in just a few minutes, the announcer repeated the sad news. My momma is a hard-working woman, and I can count on one hand the times I’ve seen her cry, but when the announcer repeated the news about President Roosevelt, she laid her head down on the kitchen table and cried like nothing I’ve ever seen.

  I’d heard Momma talk about how hard the Depression was, and how she’d lost two babies because good, nourishing food was so scarce. She thought President Roosevelt was almost a saint because he’d brought our country out of the Depression, and led us through the War. It just didn’t seem right to her that he would die right now with the War almost over. She cried and cried, and when Daddy came home from work, they both cried all over again.

  Well, things were really sad around our house for the next few days, and then the very saddest part was the funeral of the President. I’m not kidding, our little town was so sad with the flag at the post office at half-mast and when everybody talked they sounded like they were whispering. Us kids didn’t know what to think.

  We listened to a special broadcast and Daddy told me that even though our President had died, those sorry Germans and Japs were almost done and President Truman would finish the job.

  Well, the days slipped by, and sometimes I went to sleep thinking about the mystery valentine and all those notes. Shoot, Naomi hadn’t been able to come up with the mystery girl, and me and John Clayton had just given up. But, heck, one thing that seemed to go on and on without much change was the danged paper route, and every morning it was the same old alarm clock that sent me jumping outta bed.

  The alarm rang and I hit the floor pulling on my cutoff shorts as I ran out the door. Finally, it was warm enough just to wear shorts. I trotted along the highway and strolled into the newsstand less than five minutes late.

  “Hey, Doc, check the clock!”

  “Damn, Richard, only six minutes late…”

  “Uh, five minutes, Doc.”

  Doc just shook his head and threw me the bundle of papers.

  Well, before I started running the paper route I looked at the headlines. Heck, we were just mopping up them danged, sorry Germans and everybody was figuring we’d have ’em whipped pretty soon. As American armies rolled across Germany, and the Russians closed in on Berlin, we listened to every news broadcast. It was the next Sunday night when we huddled around the kitchen table as Daddy tuned in Walter Winchell. The local newscast said the Russians had taken Berlin, and everybody wondered what had happened to Hitler.

  In a few minutes we heard the rattle of Walter Winchell: “Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. North and South America and all the ships at sea… let’s go to press. Bulletin from the Russian news agency, Adolph Hitler is dead! Adolph Hitler is dead! German surrender expected soon…”

  With that announcement, everybody jumped up yelling and screaming, Daddy hugged Momma, who was crying, and I ran around the kitchen hollering. Well, Walter Winchell went on and on about how the Russians had found these bodies of two people that had committed suicide and they were pretty sure it was Hitler and his girlfriend.

  Another week passed and the day we were all waiting for arrived—the last day of school. Not only did our official summer start as soon as the dismissal bell rang, but as everyone dashed out the door The Start of Summer Race would begin. I guess you could say it was the kid’s official start of summer. Anyway, all the kids would dash off across the school grounds to see who could get to the gate first. Last year, after winning the two previous years, I was tied by Connie. Actually she’d have beaten me, but I ran over in front of her and held out my arm to slow her down. She called me a cheater, which I probably was.

  Boy, I really wanted to beat her this year, especially after she dropped me as her boyfriend. Heck, we’re both faster than any of the boys in our class, so the race would be between me and Connie. Two weeks ago I talked with John Clayton about trying to beat Connie, and he told me flat out that he wasn’t about to slow her down like he did last year. She clawed him up pretty bad.

  “Heck, Richard, remember last week at the Ritz Theater when it showed them runners practicing for a race. You need to practice.”

  “Huh?”

  Yeah, go down to the school track and run. It’ll make you faster and you won’t slow down right at the end like you did last year. You’d have beaten her last year if you hadn’t slowed down right at the end of the race. Shoot, you were just a-gaspin’ when you finished.”

  “Yeah, I remembered going like a flash when the race first started, and then, with about 50 yards to go, I was just about to die when Connie caught me.”

  I started training that afternoon by running around the track as fast as I could. Shoot, the first time around, about halfway around, I ran outta breath and barely made it around the other half. For the next two weeks every day after school, I tried to run around the track. After about 10 days I got to the point where I could make it without stopping, and after the full two weeks I was much faster.

  Finally, it was the last day of school and as I sat there at my desk, I planned my run. I sat straight up when the bell rang and soon our class had filed out of our classroom and into the hall. There ain’t no running in the hall, but as soon as we passed through the big double doors you could take off.

  Connie was right beside me when we went through the doors, and I jumped the steps to take an early lead. I really turned it on and pulled away to about a five-yard lead at halfway. Then I heard her coming up on my right side, just like last year. I gave it all I had but she slowly pulled ahead. Then with only about 20 yards to go she started gasping for breath, and I pulled even and passed her right before she got to the gate.

  “Yes, yes!”

  John Clayton ran up to congratulate me. Connie was bending over trying to catch her breath, and John Clayton nodded to me as he whispered, “The training did it.”

  “Yeah.”

  Well, I expected Connie to just walk away, but she didn’t.

  “Richard, you were great! I can’t believe how you ran!” said Connie.

  Heck, I was so surprised I couldn’t say nothing, but “Uh, uh.” Well, finally I got my tongue back and I smiled and said, “Thanks, Connie. I just really felt fast today.”

  Shoot, John Clayton wasn’t gonna let that go by, so he piped up and said, “He’s been training, Connie, down at the track—you know, running every day.”

  Connie smiled. “Well, I wondered why you weren’t gasping for breath when we finished.” Then she nodded her head, “Next year, look out. I’m gonna be training for weeks, so just enjoy this little win, ’cause it’s never gonna happen again.”

  Connie walked off and I kinda shoved John Clayton.

  “Dang, you! Next year that girl will be so fast I won’t have a chance!” Heck, John Clayton smirked like he’d just pulled one on me, and we walked on out of the schoolyard.

  We were now outta school for summer vacation, and I had all kinda thoughts about what I was gonna do that summer, but one thing I knew for sure was that me and John Clayton was gonna hafta make a real try to get Mr. Bill back to the circus. Heck, there weren’t no way on god’s green earth that he could live out there in that danged Swamp through another winter.

  It was a warm spring day and we’d decided to go deep into the Swamp and look for new places to fish, or maybe find a swimming hole. We came to Mr. Bill’s canebrake and yelled for him to come out.

  “Hey, what are you boys doing down here today?”

  “We’re just exploring the creek, Mr. Bill. How are you doing?”

  “Oh, pretty good, boys. I caught a nice mess of fish, so you can forget ’bout the meat on the grocery list. I sure wish that circus would get to Little Rock. I’m sure tired of waiting down here in this canebrake.” />
  “Well, won’t be long now,” I said. “You said it started on tour in May and one of the early stops was in Little Rock.

  “I know boys, but after that winter we went through, I’m more than ready to rejoin the circus.”

  “Yeah, Mr. Bill, and we’re gonna help you get back. Just be patient,” said John Clayton.

  “Boys, did you go to the circus when it was in El Dorado?”

  “We sure did, but it wasn’t something we wanted to talk about. But John Clayton kinda nodded and finally said, “Yes.”

  “Did you go down the midway and go into any of the tents?” asked Mr. Bill.

  Heck, I really didn’t want to answer that question, but run-off-at-the-mouth, John Clayton said, “We sure did.”

  “Which ones?” said Mr. Bill.

  ‘Uh, well, we saw the Bearded Lady,” I said. That was all I was going to say about the sideshows.

  “Oh, you saw Bob Parker. He’s the Bearded Lady.”

  “A guy is the Bearded Lady?” I questioned.

  “Oh, sure. You don’t think a lady could really grow a beard, do you?”

  Gosh, that Mr. Parker really had us fooled, and we even paid another quarter to go into the second tent and see him take off his top, but we didn’t see nothing.

  “Were you boys there when Garguanta nearly broke out?”

  Talk about choking on an answer. Heck, not only were we there, but me and John Clayton did this snake hissing thing and that big ape went wild. We ran out of the tent screaming that Garguanta was escaping and people ran like crazy.

  Gosh, we looked just like a couple of kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Mr. Bill looked at us, shook his head, and said, “You didn’t.”

  “We didn’t mean to, Mr. Bill!”

  Well, since John Clayton confessed we had to explain how we were just trying to make the big ape sit up where we could see him better—and well, we musta made him mad.

  “Boys, that could’ve been real dangerous. What if Garguanta had escaped”