A Far Piece to Canaan (11 page)

“I'll give you five dollars for that three-blade knife in th' case.”

The woman glanced at her husband, who was frowning. “Uh, well, that's about an eight-dollar knife, honey,” she said to me. “We can't sell hit for five.”

I checked her total and saw it would take two and a half dollars more than I had. The store owner stood at the cash register while I looked for something else.

“Tell you what,” the owner said. “It's Christmastime. Sell it to you for six.”

“Five-fifty,” I said, and, man, I couldn't believe I said it. Neither could he.

Then he laughed and said, “Okay, hit's a deal,” and that's how I got Ben's knife.

I
was busting to give those presents to everybody and the week before Christmas, when all the family was together, I gave them out. They were the first presents I had ever given and I felt great saying, “Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah” and Mom said just “Happy Hanukkah” and I said, “Yeah,” and everybody laughed. It was a good time, boy, especially for Dad and Mom who had just shipped the last of the tobacco. We kept hearing on the radio how the tobacco crop was short and how the price was gonna go up. Dad said that with a little luck, this coming year would be our last on somebody else's place.

The next morning, Fred come over and brought me a birch flute he made and I gave him his neckerchief. He really liked it and it looked fine hanging down over the top of his shirt, cowboy-style. We were out in the front yard where Fred was trying to teach me how to play my flute when up our lane come a hunched-over man. We knew it was Mr. Shackelford from the way he walked. When he got to our front fence he said, “Hello boys, how y' doin'?” and before we could tell him he said, “Samuel, where's your pa?”

“In th' kitchen,” I answered.

Then Mr. Shackelford said, “Would you go inside and get him for me?”

I was about to say he could go on in, but Mr. Shackelford knew all he had to do was knock and his asking me meant he didn't want the women to hear. When I told Dad, his eyebrows rose, then he stood up. Mom didn't say anything, but as we went out the kitchen door she and Naomi were heading toward my bedroom window. Fred and me followed Dad to the front yard gate, where he and Mr. Shackelford shook hands.

“How y' doin', Ed?” said Dad.

“Pretty good 'til this mornin',” Mr. Shackelford answered.

“What's wrong?” and Dad got a worried look on his face.

“Morse, I just found the damned'st thing in my back sheep pasture. One of my bucks was killed.”

“Dogs?”

“Naw, hit wudn't dogs. No dog ever done nothin' like this.”

“What?” said Dad, and his thumbs went into the belt of his Levi's.

“Well, hits neck was broke and th' hindquarters taken. Carcass was cut with a knife.”

Dad's eyes kind of squinted, then he said, “Sounds like you got a thief on your hands, Ed. Wonder who it could be. Most folks around here won't eat mutton.”

“Yeah, I know. Anybody around here was in hard straits, they'd take chickens or hogs or maybe a calf. Nobody'd take a buck.”

“Must be somebody from Lexington.”

Mr. Shackelford glanced at Fred and me and his voice dropped lower. “Morse, that ain't the strangest part. Hits eyes was gouged out. Hits male organs was taken too.”

Dad stiffened. “What!”

“Swear t' God. Both eyes gouged plumb out and nuts cut off.”

“Crazy man,” Dad whispered, and him and Mr. Shackelford stared at each other.

So did Fred and me. The Shackelford place wudn't far from the river and a straight shot to the cave where we found the bones and bloody stick.

“Come see hit, Morse,” said Mr. Shackelford, and they started toward our car.

Fred and me followed, but Dad motioned for us to stay. “Tell Mom I have something to take care of with Mr. Shackelford,” he said. “I'll be back in a little while. Oh, and Samuel, don't mention anything about th' sheep. I'll tell her, okay?”

“Okay,” I called, and they drove off down the lane.

When they were gone, Fred took a deep breath and blew out slow through his puffed cheeks. “Hun'ney, hit's a crazy man what was in th' cave!”

“No it ain't,” I said. “It's th' Devil!”

Fred shook his head. “Can't figure hit that way. Devil don't have t' eat mutton.”

I looked away, not wanting him to see how scared I was. “It's th' Devil!”

Fred didn't say nothing for a while, then asked, “Why you think hit's th' Devil?”

I was stuck. I couldn't tell him Ben told me. “I just know is all,” I said.

Fred didn't ask again because he knew I'd say if I could. He kind of moved his no-heel around in the grass and waited for me to say something else.

“You figure we ought to let our folks know about th' cave and th' dog?” I asked.

“Hit ain't up t' us alone,” he said. “Before we go tellin' anybody we got t' talk hit over with LD and Lonnie. 'Specially Lonnie. We'll get a hiding, but his pa might really give him a beatin'. When Mr. Miller gets drunk, he beats up on everybody. He knifed a man once when he was drunk. My ma won't let me go t' their house.”

I could see his point. “I didn't know it was that bad. Maybe we could leave Lonnie out of it. It happened a while ago and nobody will remember he was with us.”

Fred mulled that over, then scraped his no-heel around. “That's a good idea, but we still got to get together and talk. LD and Lonnie'll be in church Sunday and I'll get a meetin' time set up for early next week. How's that?”

“Sounds good t' me,” I answered, then I thought about Lonnie's present. “Hey, will you take Lonnie's present t' church with you so he'll have it in time for Christmas?”

“Sure. You got one for LD too?”

“Yeah, but I'm gonna deliver it personal. I hope Lonnie won't get sore about me not givin' his th' same way.”

“Lonnie'll understand. Don't nobody go t' their house less'n they have to.”

After Fred left, I got LD's present, stuck Ben's knife in my pocket, and took off, after telling Mom what Dad said and promising to be back to do my chores. She didn't say much about my leaving, which was odd, because I hadn't gotten to do much since the trot line thing.

I had never been to LD's house before but knew where it was from talking to him, so I took a shortcut across the back of Cummings Hill. When I got to the top, I was looking down at the last valley before the Big Bend bottoms. There, in an open field, stood a little white house with a lot of oak trees around it. Smoke was pouring out its chimney. In back of it was an outhouse, a toolshed, a smokehouse, and a stock barn. On the other side of the oak trees I could see their tobacco barn with stalks piled around it from stripping and the bare field where they had cropped. Everything was covered light with snow. I couldn't see anybody but the Ford was in the yard so they had to be home. I knew dogs were somewhere too, so when I got to the last big tree before the yard with a low limb I could jump up to, I started calling.

The second I called, two dogs run to the front of the house barking their heads off. I kept on calling and soon a tall man come to the door. He shushed the dogs and yelled for me to come on down. When I got there, LD was beside him.

“Pa, this here's Samuel I been tellin' you about,” said LD, and Mr. Howard shook my hand and said to come in.

Inside, it was hot, and there was a great smell of hickory burning in the fireplace. There was a pine smell too that come from the Christmas tree in the corner.

“Sarah, come here and meet a neighbor,” Mr. Howard called.

I could hear dishes rattle in the kitchen, then a round-faced, kind of fat lady, wearing a red apron with flour dust handprints on it and a yellow dress, come in smiling, her hands still having little bits of bread dough on them.

“Mama, this here's Samuel,” LD said.

Mrs. Howard smiled, and her whole face lit up. “Well, land sakes, I was about t' think I was never gonna meet you people. I've been meanin' t' get over a dozen times. LD talks about you every day. How'd you like some biscuits and honey?”

I was about to say,
Hi
and
Yes ma'am
to the biscuits, but Mrs. Howard had already rustled back into the kitchen, talking as she disappeared.

LD and his dad and me sat in the living room. It was a nice room with a linoleum floor and lots of chairs and a table. There were pictures on the walls of Jesus and things from the Bible everywhere and some other people. One of them was a little girl. LD saw me look at her.

“That's my sister,” he said.

That surprised me since LD never mentioned he had a sister.

“She's gone home,” Mr. Howard said, and I knew what he meant. “She got th' typhoid back about ten year ago and went home. I almost went too but Jesus didn't want me yet.”

Mr. Howard kept talking about going home and I just sat not knowing what to say.

“Your pa finished strippin' yet?” he asked, finally.

“Yes, sir,” I answered. “He just finished.”

“Going to be a good sale, praise th' Lord. Th' Lord's providin' for us, son. This here's one of them fat years. They'll be lean years comin'. That's what old Daniel told th' King, and hit's been like that ever since. You know about Daniel and th' King?”

I answered that I'd read a lot about Daniel and Nebuchadnezzar, which I had in my book
Heroes of Israel
.

“You read a lot from th' Old Testament?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“That's good, that's good,” he said.

Just as Mr. Howard was about to say more about the Old Testament, LD's mom stuck her head in and said our biscuits and honey was getting cold.

In the kitchen, Mrs. Howard began talking to me and I thought she'd never stop. I didn't think I was ever going to get LD alone to tell him about the sheep and give him his present. After what seemed like forever, Mrs. Howard went to the living room with some wood for the fire and I grabbed my last biscuit, tucked the present under my arm, and nodded at the kitchen door. As soon as we got outside, I started walking toward the tobacco barn.

“What's wrong?” LD asked, as we trotted along together.

“Tell you at the barn, and Merry Christmas,” and I handed him his present.

“Why, Samuel . . . I thank you. I . . . I don't have one for you. I asked Mom and Dad and they said y'all don't give Christmas presents.”

I could tell he felt bad and was wanting to give me something so I said we take them but for another reason and that if he wanted to, he still had time. He perked right up until we reached the barn, where I told him about Mr. Shackelford's buck.

“Lordy, what we gonna do? Hit's a crazy man and he could kill somebody!”

“Huh-uh. It's th' Devil,” I said, and I was positive the way I said it. LD turned pale as a ghost. I really shook him up bad and had to calm him down.

“What makes you so sure hit's th' Devil?” he asked, after we had talked awhile.

Suddenly, I realized how dumb it was saying that and was mad at myself for making the same mistake twice. I moved over to a pile of tobacco stalks and sank down on them. “I just kind of figure's all,” I answered. “You said it first, y' know.”

LD came over and sat on the pile, beside me. He pulled up a cuff of his Levi's and scratched, then looked at me kind of sideways. “What you think we ought do?”

“Fred says th' four of us need t' talk about it. He's gonna meet you and Lonnie after church and make a time when we can all get together.”

LD's eyes opened kind of wide. “That's a good idea. Man, I'm gonna get a hidin'. Pa'll razor strop me somethin' awful. Reckon hit's comin' t' me, though,” and he seemed to feel as bad about not having told as about the licking he was gonna get. Not me, boy! If the Devil done it, I knew wudn't anybody going to do anything about it because a human idn't going to win against the Devil. I was going to say not to tell anything.

L
D and I walked back to the house, where I thanked his folks for the biscuits and honey, then I headed to the Big Bend bottoms. The hills were clean and quiet with tracks everywhere, mostly fox, bobcat, and rabbit. Patches of rabbit fur said some critters got their bellies full.

A hundred yards or so from Ben's house, Cain and Abel came for me and I was scared until their chains stopped them. I kept coming until I got close, then stood talking to them. They just kept on barking. Nobody come out so I yelled, “Mr. Begley!” and let a few seconds go by.

“It's Samuel, Mr. Begley!”

The dogs were barking so loud I thought he couldn't hear, so I kept on trying. I was about to quit when the door opened and there stood Ben in a checkered blue shirt and Levi's. “Cain! Abel!” he said, and the dogs trotted back to him and sat by his legs. “Come on in, Samuel.”

I walked to the door, took off my muddy shoes, and went inside.

“How y' been?” he asked.

“Okay,” I said. “You been okay, too?”

“Yep.” We sat down, him in the big chair and me in a small one. He grinned. “You get a hidin' from your folks when you showed up with new clothes that day?”

I grinned back. “They were put out, and I haven't gotten to do much since.”

“What'd you tell them?”

“I said I got 'em from some people down on th' river I didn't know.”

He laughed. “They knowed that was a lie.”

“Yeah,” I said, “but I couldn't think of nothin' else,” and he really laughed.

“I can see how that might be hard t' explain. Anyways, it's good t' have you here. You're good company. Most folks just bother me. You havin' a nice Christmas?”