A Tree Born Crooked (11 page)

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why’d you call me?”

Rabbit got up from the couch and strode quickly toward James until they were only a foot apart. James could smell the sweat coming off him. He didn’t step backwards, though.

“‘Cause I need to know what to do.”

“Seriously? You rob some place, kill somebody—”

“I ain’t killed nobody!”

“And you think I’m gonna tell you what to do? You think I got experience with this kinda thing, is that it? You think this is what I run around doing with my time? I told you not to do this. I told you, Rabbit.”

The scared look came back into Rabbit’s eyes.
 

“You gonna call the cops on me?”

That thought had never actually occurred to James.
 

“No, I’m not gonna call the cops.”

Rabbit sighed in relief and lifted up the edge of the army blanket next to James so he could look out the window again. The shadows had faded to a gray light.
 

“But I don’t know what you expect me to do either. Who’s got the money?”

Rabbit dropped the blanket back down.

“Delmore, I think. I had the bag, but then he took it and put it in the back seat of his truck.”

“And he and Waylon are coming back here?”

“Yeah, I guess so. Delmore said to just sit tight ‘til they got back. Shit, James, if they know I told you all this, I might as well say my prayers now.”

James pulled out his cell phone to see what time it was. Almost six. They could be back soon. Rabbit was certainly nervous enough to think so anyway. He put his cell phone back in his pocket and pulled out his keys. Rabbit’s eyes widened.

“You leaving me?”

“I think that’s for the best, don’t you?”

“Are you staying in Crystal Springs? James, you can’t leave me now. Not ‘til I know what’s gonna happen. Please, don’t leave me.”

James thought Rabbit was going to reach out and grab hold of him. Before he could, James put his hands on Rabbit’s shoulders and made Rabbit look up at him.
 

“I’m not leaving Crystal Springs right now, okay?”

“You sure?”

James let go of Rabbit and opened the door behind him. The morning came streaming in.

“Right now, though, I’m going back to the motel and I’m gonna get some sleep. And you’re gonna wait here for Delmore. And then you’re gonna call me again when you know what’s going on. And you’re not gonna tell Delmore that I was here. Got it?”

Rabbit nodded.

“We’ll figure this out.”

“You promise you’re not gonna call the police?”

“I’m going to sleep.”

James walked out and got into his truck. Rabbit followed him and stood on the trailer steps, rocking back and forth on his heels. James did a U-turn in the front yard, navigating around an overturned wheelbarrow and part of a broken bed frame that he hadn’t noticed in the dark. He didn’t wave as he drove away, but he watched Rabbit in the rearview mirror, twisting his hands and looking around anxiously as if something was going to come out of the trees for him. James sighed as he turned the corner and put his eyes back on the road. What the hell was he thinking?

SIX

James pulled up to the metal cattle gate blocking the driveway and cut the engine. The gate wasn’t locked, he easily could have slid the latch, dragged the gate open, and driven on through, but he didn’t. Instead, he stuffed his keys down into his pocket, put one boot on the bottom slat, and hauled himself over.
 

The sandy driveway was about an eighth of a mile, surrounded on both sides by acres of scrubby grass, sandspur patches, and mole holes. It had probably once been grazing land for horses, cattle, maybe even goats, but now the only animal to be seen was the brown spotted Catahoula dog trotting down the road toward him. The dog didn’t seem friendly, its tail was stretched out stiff and it held its head down with shoulders raised up, but it wasn’t showing teeth either. The dog got to within ten feet of him, but bolted as soon as James reached out his hand. It bounded off through the yellow, brittle weeds, circling back toward the house.
 

James kept walking. He could see the place clearly now. It was an old, Florida-style farmhouse, probably built around the turn of the century. A tin roof streaked with rust canopied a wide front porch, and overall it needed a coat of paint, but, in spite of that, the house was inviting. It was a rare island of permanent living in a sea of transitory mobile homes and slapped together vinyl boxes built so close to one another that a person could reach out the bathroom window and borrow toilet paper from his neighbor. The tops of two giant live oaks behind the house could be seen above the sloping roof and, as James got closer, he could see that the driveway gave way to a real yard, despite the brittle grass. Azaleas and oleanders grew out of the middle of yellow and white striped tires. The only lawn furniture, a wooden bench sunk deep into the earth next to a Rose of Sharon bush, appeared to have been placed there on purpose, not flung out the front door when no longer needed. James marveled at the fact that there was not one single piece of trash decorating the landscape, not even a blown away plastic grocery bag, or a crushed Big Gulp cup. Someone actually cared about the appearance of the world.
 

Marlena was rocking back and forth on the front porch of the house. With one leg draped over the arm of the chair, she pushed herself gently with a bare foot against the smooth, wooden porch boards. The dog had returned to her and was laid out panting beside her. She had her fingers buried in the scruff of its neck, scratching a sweet spot. She smiled, but didn’t seem surprised, when he stopped short of the porch steps and raised one hand against the glaring afternoon sun to see her better.

“Hi, Marlena.”

James got the strange sensation that she was looking him up and down, but it didn’t make him uncomfortable.
 

“Why don’t you come up on the porch? Roscoe doesn’t bite. Well, not unless I ask him to.”

She grinned, wide and easy.

“You want some coffee? I think it’s about done brewing. I always like a cup this time of day.”

James stepped onto the porch and sat down in an unraveling cane chair against the side railing. The dog got up and, this time, came to sniff James’ outstretched hand. Satisfied, it stretched and lay down at James’ feet with its head resting on top of his boots.

“If you’re gonna have one. You got the day off?”

“It’s Tuesday. We’re always closed.”

Marlena kicked herself out of the chair and disappeared into the house, the screen door squeaking and banging behind her. He could hear a radio coming from somewhere inside. The breeze had begun to pick up, the sky over in the west was clouding up, too, and the indistinct singing, combined with the rustling leaves of the live oaks overhead, and the whine of the cicadas, generated a peace in James he had forgotten he could feel. He took in the open countryside, the trees beyond that, sweet gums and sand pines, and the restless sky. This was a very different life from the one he had been leading. Lazy porches, sun-warmed dogs, and coffee in the afternoon because it tasted good, not because it was needed to wake up. It stirred up an ache in James that he barely remembered existed. Maybe it was regret, maybe longing. And there was a great sadness, too. This place was not for him. No, he was only visiting. Marlena called out from the kitchen.

“You want cream or sugar?”

“Just sugar, if you got it.”

She pushed open the screen door with her back and came out with two cups of coffee. She set his on the small wicker side table between them and settled herself back down in her chair. She rocked back and forth a few times, eyeing him.

“So, is this a social visit, or are you here to ask me where my daddy is?”

She blew on her coffee, but over the rising steam he could see that her eyes had turned a little harder. She raised her eyebrows at him when he didn’t answer immediately.

“Well, I wish it was the one.”

James swallowed the hot coffee, ignoring the burn in his throat.
 

“But I guess you know it’s the other.”

James leaned back in his chair to think a moment. He was still a little unclear about what exactly had transpired in the time since he had left Rabbit and gone back to the motel. James had crashed hard, slept in his clothes again, and woken up around noon. Starving, he had gone to Merv’s Diner for a pulled pork sandwich, tater tots, and sweet tea while he waited for Rabbit to call. He was paying at the register, wondering what else he could do to occupy his time, maybe go to the bar, when his phone rang. James had answered it as he held the glass front door open for a lady in a wheelchair being pushed by a girl who couldn’t be much more than five. She could barely see over the old woman’s head. He cradled the phone between his ear and shoulder.
 

“Hi.”

“Hey. Can you talk?”

“Yep. Just a second.”

James waited until the little girl had bumped the chair over the threshold and then walked out onto the sidewalk.
 

“Okay. What’s going on?”

“I’m over at Mama’s right now. I needed a place to go.”

“What’s wrong with your place? Did Delmore and Waylon get back?”

“Delmore did. But he didn’t say nothing, really. He looked worse off than I reckon I do. He’s sleeping back at the trailer right now. I didn’t want him to know I was calling you, so I came over here. Mama’s down at the store.”

“Alright. What’d Delmore say when he got back?”

James could hear the opening and closing of what sounded like a refrigerator door. He sat down on the sidewalk bench next to the Butt Hut standing ashtray.
 

“Man, James. I got a real bad feeling ‘bout all a this.”

“You should, dip-shit, considering—”

A woman with a screaming two-year old on her hip came barreling out of the restaurant. James lowered his voice until after she had passed.
 

“Considering what exactly you’ve done in the past eighteen hours.”

“I know, I know. I just ain’t never done nothing like this before. But I gotta tell you, I think something real bad happened. I mean, worse than what done already happened.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I just do. Delmore shoulda gotten back right ‘round the time you left, but he didn’t. He ain’t come home ‘til maybe an hour ago. I guess I finally passed out on the couch after you left. Then he come in, all crazy like, and started throwing stuff ‘round like he were looking for something.”

Rabbit paused and James could hear him chewing and swallowing.
 

“So, I asks him what for, but he wouldn’t answer me. He still had the gun, the one he, you know, and I asked him, weren’t Waylon supposed to take care of that? Make it disappear or whatever? But he didn’t answer me on that one neither. So I says, where’s the bag? The one with the cash in it. He don’t look at me, he’s in that back bedroom now, moving furniture ‘round, but he yells out that it’s safe, he hid it somewhere safe.”

James sighed and picked at a hole that was beginning to emerge in his pant leg.
 

“Rabbit. I don’t like the sound of where this is going.”

“You don’t gotta tell me. This ain’t the way it was supposed to end, right? We was gonna spend this morning counting out our shares. So I asks him about that. He’s still in the bedroom, talking, but he says we gotta wait. We gotta wait for Waylon, ‘cause of his share. I said, didn’t you already give it to him? Weren’t that the plan? Just pay him for the stuff? But then Delmore says that things are different now, ‘cause of all, you know, what happened. So I asks him, where is Waylon anyhow?”

Rabbit paused and James could hear him slurping something to drink.
 

“Now, this is where I got creeped out, James. I get these feelings, you know, and something just weren’t right. He said that he don’t know ‘bout Waylon, then told me to back off so he could get some sleep.”

James lit a cigarette and balanced it between his fingers as he rubbed his palm against his forehead.
 

 
“That was it?”

 
“That’s it. I just told you everything. I wanted to go back there and talk to him, but Delmore was so crazy sounding, I was afraid he’d flip out on me. He done that before once, and I ended up in the emergency room. Threw a toaster at my head. So I left, came here to Mama’s, and called you, just you like said to.”

James stood up and started walking down the street toward his truck.
 

“Shit.”

“It’s bad, ain’t it? Real bad?”

“Are you just now figuring that out?”

“Don’t get mad at me.”

“Well, who should I be mad at then? This was your big idea, your big play. Don’t tell me you didn’t sow this. Now you’re reaping.”

“Okay, so tell me what I gotta do. I know you been in situations like this before. I know you know how to do this. You gotta help me.”

“Stop right there.”