A Death On The Wolf (30 page)

Daddy shrugged and said, “Sit down, Frankie.” He pointed to the chair over by my dresser.

Frankie didn’t move. Still looking down, he said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Lem. I won’t play it loud like that again.”

“
What?” Daddy asked. He looked at me and it was my turn to shrug.

“
I didn’t mean to have my radio that loud,” Frankie said.

Daddy cracked a little smile and shook his head. “Is that why you think I called you in here, son?”

Frankie looked up. “Yes, sir.”

“
Frankie, I wasn’t paying one bit of attention to your radio. I didn’t call you in here to fuss at you. I think Nelson will tell you, I don’t do much fussing. If you’re doing something I’m not happy with, I’ll tell you about it and that’s that.”

The relief sweeping Frankie’s face was clear. Instead of sitting in the chair by my dresser, he made a beeline for my bed, climbed over me, and took the spot that used to be his when he’d spend the night.

“
What’d you want to talk about, Daddy?” I asked.

“
I’m thinking about sending you boys, and your aunt, your sister, and Mary Alice, to stay with your grandma over in Picayune until they catch this Bong guy.”

“
Daddy, don’t do that,” I protested.

“
I know you don’t get along with your grandmother, son, but I have to think about everyone’s safety here.”

I was about to say something else when we heard a crack, then another, from outside my window in the front yard. It sounded like M80s going off. Then there was shouting.

“
What was that?” Frankie said.

“
Gunshots,” Daddy replied. He immediately jumped up and switched off the lamp beside my bed. “Stay here,” he ordered and then ran to his room, to get his gun I was sure.

“
You think it’s Peter Bong?” Frankie asked. I could hear the fear in his voice. Just enough light came through my door from the hallway for me to see how scared he was. I heard Daddy coming back down the hall from his room, and sure enough, as he passed my doorway, I saw the glint of the nickel plated Smith & Wesson in his hand. Then there was loud banging at the front door.

“
If that’s Peter Bong,” I said, “he’s about to get shot.” The words had no more left my mouth when I heard someone hollering Daddy’s name from the front porch.

“
I don’t think that’s Peter,” Frankie said. Then we heard voices coming from the living room.

“
Nelson,” Daddy said loudly from down the hall, “you and Frankie come here.”

Frankie and I scrambled out of the bed and sprinted down the hall to the living room. Daddy was standing there with Sheriff Posey who had his .45 in one hand and a pair of white briefs in the other.

“
Are these yours?” he asked, holding the underwear out to Frankie.

Frankie took the briefs and looked at them. “They look like mine. Did you shoot him?”

“
Who?” the sheriff said.

“
Peter Bong.”

Sheriff Posey motioned for Frankie to hand him back the underwear, which he did. “It wasn’t Bong out there, son, it was your father.”

“
Daddy?” Frankie said, bewildered. “Did you shoot him?”

“
No, but I scared the shit out of him. He’s handcuffed in the backseat of my car now.”

“
So it was Frank who put the clothes in the mail box?” Daddy asked.

“
Looks that way,” the sheriff said. “I decided to come up here after it got dark and watch and see if Bong would show up. I parked over yonder in Charity’s driveway and then, about ten minutes ago, I see a pickup go by with just the parking lights on. It stopped just past y’all’s drive and that’s when I got out and made my way over here. I waited, and, sure enough, here comes someone straight up to the house carrying these drawers.” He held up the underwear for emphasis. “It looked like he was gonna put ’em on the front porch, so I pulled out my gun and let off a round into the air. He took off running, so I let off another, and hollered for him to hit the ground. Imagine my surprise when I get over to him with my flashlight and see it ain’t Bong but Frank Thompson.”

“
So how did Frank wind up with his son’s clothes from that night?” Daddy asked.

“
He hasn’t told me yet, but I suspect it’s just like I thought: he found ’em laying outside the room and picked ’em up.”

“
And what about Bong? You still think he’s long gone?”

“
I do, Lem. I think he wised up that night, hit the road on that motorbike, and never looked back. He knew what we’d do to him around here if we caught him.”

I felt relieved at the thought that this whole deal had been Frankie’s dad playing a sick prank, rather than a pervert seeking revenge on Frankie. Judging from the look on Frankie’s face, he did too—though I couldn’t imagine what he must have been thinking after finding out it was his own father trying to terrorize him with memories of that night. No wonder he didn’t want to go home.

“
I appreciate you lookin’ out for us, Joe,” Daddy said and stuck his hand out.

The sheriff holstered his .45 and then shook Daddy’s hand. “Well, let me haul Frank down to the station and see if I can’t get some kind of statement out of him. He’s drunk off his ass, so it probably won’t be much tonight.”

“
Are you gonna keep him in jail?” Frankie asked.

“
Just tonight, until he sobers up. I’ll let him out in the morning.” Frankie frowned and Sheriff Posey said, “Don’t worry, son. I think your daddy learned his lesson tonight. I wasn’t joking when I said I scared the shit out of him. The first thing he’s gonna have to do when I get him to the jail is take a shower and put an inmate jumpsuit on. And I’ll have to leave the windows down on my car for the next few days to get the stink out.” With a wink and a grin, the sheriff headed for the door, then turned back. “Have y’all heard about that hurricane…Camille?”

“
I saw something about it on the ten o’clock news,” Daddy said, pointing to the TV. “It’s down by Cuba.”

“
Yeah, but I heard some talk around the station earlier that it might be coming up this way. Anyhow, y’all can get a good night’s sleep now.”

— — —

NEW ORLEANS

ADVISORY NO. 10 11 AM CDT SATURDAY AUGUST 16, 1969

…CAMILLE…SMALL BUT DANGEROUS…THREATENS THE NORTHWEST FLORIDA COAST…

THE WEATHER BUREAU HAS ISSUED HURRICANE WARNINGS ON THE NORTHWEST FLORIDA COAST FROM FORT WALTON TO ST. MARKS AND GALE WARNINGS ELSEWHERE FROM PENSACOLA TO CEDAR KEY EFFECTIVE AT 11 AM CDT. PREPARATION FOR HURRICANE FORCE WINDS AND 5 TO 10 FOOT TIDES IN THE AREA FROM FORT WALTON TO ST. MARKS SHOULD BE STARTED IMMEDIATELY AND COMPLETED TONIGHT

ALL INTERESTS ALONG THE NORTHEASTERN GULF COAST ARE URGED TO LISTEN FOR FURTHER RELEASES.

GALE WARNING WILL REMAIN IN EFFECT AT DRY TORTUGAS UNTIL WINDS AND SEAS SUBSIDE LATER TODAY.

AT 1100 CDT…1600Z…HURRICANE CAMILLE WAS CENTERED NEAR LATITUDE 24.5 NORTH…LONGITUDE 86.0 WEST…OR ABOUT 380 MILES SOUTH OF PANAMA CITY FLORIDA AND IT IS MOVING NORTH NORTHWEST ABOUT 10 MPH.

CAMILLE IS EXPECTED TO CONTINUE THIS MOVEMENT TODAY WITH A GRADUAL TURN TO THE NORTH TONIGHT. A SLIGHT INCREASE IN SPEED IS LIKELY TONIGHT AND SUNDAY.

HIGHEST WINDS ARE ESTIMATED 115 MPH NEAR THE CENTER. HURRICANE FORCE WINDS EXTEND OUT ABOUT 40 MILES FROM THE CENTER AND GALES EXTEND OUT ABOUT 150 MILES FROM THE CENTER. CONDITIONS ARE FAVORABLE FOR SOME FURTHER INCREASE IN INTENSITY TODAY.

REPEATING THE 11 AM POSITION…24.5 NORTH…86.0 WEST.

THE NEXT ADVISORY WILL BE ISSUED BY THE NEW ORLEANS WEATHER BUREAU AT 5 PM CDT AND BULLETINS AT 1 AND 3 PM CDT.

CONNER

— — —

Saturday morning after breakfast, Frankie and I worked hard to finish up the cabin down at the river. Daddy bought a door for us and helped us frame and square it and get it installed. We used sheets of Plexiglas, framed, to cover the two small windows on the sides. When completed, the cabin was ten by twelve, roughly equivalent to a good-sized camping tent. And, with a proper door, we could keep it closed up without worry about snakes getting in it. We planned to paint the outside after lunch and then camp out in it that night.

When we got back to the house for lunch, I was surprised to see Aunt Charity had the charcoal grill going in the back yard under the big pecan tree. It was to be an outdoor lunch, for she had the picnic table covered with a red and white check table cloth. While hamburgers from the Colonel Dixie or McDonalds were anathema to my aunt (she did, however, tolerate us eating the ones at Bobby Dean’s Diner), she would occasionally have the butcher down at the IGA grind up a sirloin tip, and treat us to what she considered “wholesome” hamburgers. Today was such an occasion. As I watched my aunt place her carefully formed patties on the grill, I thought back to those giant Jeff Davis burgers at The Magnolia Club up in Jackson and wondered what her assessment of those $10 monsters would have been.

Since Frankie had become our Junior Chef in Residence, he immediately took over the tending of the burgers once Aunt Charity got them on the grill. With a can of Coke in hand, I sidled up beside him at the grill and said, “I never knew you liked to cook so much. How come I never saw you doing any of this at your house?”

“
Because my dad would never let me,” Frankie said, turning one of the burgers that was over a hot spot. “He says cooking is women’s work.”

I bit my tongue and resisted telling Frankie the opinion of his dad I’d come to form over the past ten days.

“
Nelson,” Aunt Charity called to me from the back porch. “Come get these buns and put them on the table and help Mary Alice out there.”

I went and got the platter of steaming hot buns, walked Mary Alice over to the picnic table, and got her situated. I had to stop and stare at her for a moment because she just looked so good sitting there, the sun streaming through the canopy of pecan leaves above us, making her hair and skin radiant. I leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, inhaled the scent of her hair and skin, and said, “Hey, pretty girl.”

“
If y’all are gonna make out, do it somewhere else,” Frankie hollered from over at the grill.

Mary Alice blushed, but I heard her giggle a little too. I shot Frankie a bird and he laughed as he started scooping the burgers off the grill and onto a platter. “These are done,” he declared.

When we all sat down to eat, a breeze picked up and was whipping the corners of the table cloth. Daddy asked Sachet to say grace, but Frankie surprised us all by asking if he could say the prayer, something he had not done since moving in.

“
Of course,” Daddy said. My sister immediately went into pout mode but she didn’t say anything. We all bowed our heads and Frankie prayed:

“
Dear God, thank you for the Godys and giving me a new home. Thank you for my best friend. Thank you for this food. Please watch over my mom and brother and help my dad. Amen.”

That Frankie was a Baptist was easily apparent from his first person prayer in the company of others, but his simple supplication touched us all, especially Aunt Charity. When I looked up, I could see her eyes moist with tears. She reached over, put her hand on Frankie’s, and smiled at him. Daddy even seemed to be a little choked up. Sachet just sat there pouting, but Daddy gave her a little poke in the ribs which elicited a flinch and a reluctant giggle.

— — —

NEW ORLEANS

ADVISORY NO. 12 11 PM CDT SATURDAY AUGUST 16, 1969

…CAMILLE…EXTREMELY DANGEROUS…THREATENS THE NORTHWEST FLORIDA COAST…

HURRICANE WARNINGS ARE IN EFFECT ON THE NORTHWEST FLORIDA COAST FROM FORT WALTON TO ST. MARKS AND GALE WARNINGS ELSEWHERE FROM PENSACOLA TO CEDAR KEY. PREPARATIONS AGAINST THIS DANGEROUS HURRICANE SHOULD BE COMPLETED SUNDAY MORNING. A HURRICANE WATCH IS IN EFFECT WEST OF FORT WALTON TO BILOXI.

WINDS WILL INCREASE AND TIDES WILL START TO RISE ALONG THE NORTHEASTERN GULF COAST SUNDAY. GALES SHOULD BEGIN IN THE WARNING AREA SUNDAY AND REACH HURRICANE FORCE IN THE FORT WALTON ST. MARKS AREAS SUNDAY AFTERNOON OR SUNDAY NIGHT. TIDES UP TO 15 FEET ARE EXPECTED IN THE AREA WHERE THE CENTER CROSSES THE COAST. ALL INTERESTS ALONG THE NORTHEASTERN GULF COAST ARE URGED TO LISTEN FOR LATER RELEASES.

AT 11 PM CDT…0400Z…HURRICANE CAMILLE WAS LOCATED NEAR LATITUDE 25.8 NORTH…LONGITUDE 87.4 WEST…OR ABOUT 325 MILES SOUTH OF PENSACOLA FLORIDA. CAMILLE WAS MOVING NORTH NORTHWESTWARD ABOUT 12 MPH. A CHANGE TO A MORE NORTHERLY COURSE IS INDICATED WITH LITTLE CHANGE IN FORWARD SPEED.

HIGHEST WINDS ARE ESTIMATED 160 MPH NEAR THE CENTER. HURRICANE FORCE WINDS EXTEND OUTWARD 50 MILES AND GALES EXTEND OUTWARD 150 MILES FROM THE CENTER. CAMILLE IS EXPECTED TO CHANGE LITTLE IN INTENSITY DURING THE NEXT 12 HOURS.