Beautiful Dreamer (18 page)

We went inside, Pa snatching at our hats, staring at us as if he would just as soon it was us as them lying there. There'd been others had died, but most of them had gone in birthing, except the one got drowned, getting his foot stuck when the river were rising. This was different. We could all see that. Why else were we getting ready to take off and get them as done it? But right now we all had to go inside where Ma had set two candles at the head of the table. She had religion. Never went to church, seeing as she would get the back of his hand if she did, but she'd pray sometimes, just to rile him up as I thought. She had a picture pinned her side of the bed, a Jesus figure with a big red heart and a glow around him. He stood for that but nothing more. Now there was candles and she was muttering away.

I didn't know what to say and no more did the others. We just stood there and waited for Pa to say something, only he didn't. And then he were crying, sobbing away like I never seen him do before. And I could see that this had got through to him as I guess it had to me, except that nothing came except a choking feeling that I needed to get out of there and find them that did it and blow them away.

He stopped crying and held his arms out like the Christ in the picture.

‘Boys,' he said, ‘look on your brothers. They been done by Satan and his devils. One'n them black an' one'n them white, though don't make no difference which they be. They goin' to hell, boys, an' you going a send them there. And when you do that, I want for you to send them a message from me. Say that I damns their souls for eternity and may they burn for ever in his fires. But boys, before you send them to hell, I want you to remember what you seen here and let them know that you seen it. Don't send them gentle. Send them hard. Amen.'

I hadn't known how it were a prayer. Even Ma looked up as if she had never thought to hear such a word come from him. And she waves her hand like she gone off her head, which I'm thinking maybe she had.

‘Now get,' he said, and waved us away.

‘You sure on the dogs?' I said, as we climbed up on the truck. There weren't no reply and, since it didn't make no difference what we thought as far I could see, I gunned the engine and we was off.

I weren't sure how we should go, except take the road alongside the railroad. They could've jumped anywhere, except I got him good in the chest and I didn't see them jumping out quick. And besides, they would be looking for the dogs and so wouldn't care to take to the woods again.

‘What we looking for?' I asked, but no one seemed to know so I kept on going, thinking something would come up. I knew how the train had to stop sometime, to take on coal or water and such, and there were places where that was done, so I figured that was the thing to be doing, keep an eye open for them and drive on till we found them.

It were dark now. Wouldn't have been but for Pa calling us in, but for the sheriff who knew more 'an he should and would be off an' looking, I guessed. Well, it were for us to be getting there first. But what if they stayed on right up to the north? Then, I thought, maybe that was where the sheriff come in. He could call ahead and get it stopped. Then I thought, but if he did, he would get the two'n them and where would that leave us? They'd go off for trial and be burnt, but we wouldn't get to take 'em out. But they would know, them that was running, and would likely jump when they figured it safe. But how far would that be? I could out-think a buck when I was hunting, figure where it would go when it tired. They were smart enough, doubling back, using the streams, but men was different. Out-thinking them weren't the same at all.

I saw a sign for a lumber yard and pulled off to look where it was. We stopped and looked around some, using lights from the car. There were nothing to see and I couldn't figure what it was we were looking for. But it didn't seem likely. It was only ten miles from the bridge and if it had been me, I would have wanted to put more territory than this between me and them that was following. So we pulled on out and drove further up the road which weren't so easy with one of the lights out entirely now and the other flickering away as we went.

We came to another place where the train might have pulled in and now I realized how this was no way to find them. We'd brought the dogs, we'd have had a chance. Let them out to run up and down the lines. On our own, we didn't have no chance at all. We fanned out away from the line a way but couldn't find nothing. So we decided we'd keep on going, looking for God knows what. They'd hardly likely stand in the road and wave us down. And if they didn't, I couldn't see as how we would ever track them down.

Which shows what I know, because come about three in the morning, we swung off where a sign said was a water tower and there was the Ford, parked right up against the lines. It were his, right enough. How many new Fords you see around here? But had he found them, or was he just resting up? I cut the engine and we slowed to a stop.

‘What now?' I said.

‘What now? We take him out.'

‘Take him out? He's the sheriff. How'd you know he got them?'

‘Seems right,' was all Al said, though I couldn't see it myself.

‘Then where are they?'

‘He's waiting on them.'

He got right on out of the car and went on toward the Ford.

Then he comes back again.

‘You comin' or ain't you?'

*   *   *

He had his hand on me. Just pressing down so I would wake. It was dark still, or a kind of silver-grey from the stars, though I could see where they were fading off toward the east. I was stiff when I woke and there was his face staring down at me. For a bit, I didn't know for sure where I was, but then remembered, remembered it all.

On the train, I watched him sitting in the doorway, the fields and such gliding by and the wagon rocking regular. His eyes was closed and I could see how all I would have to do was creep up on him and push him out. Then I would be on my own and I could jump out and make my way. I don't know how real the feeling was, but I know I had the thought, even put a hand down as though I were going to make my way toward him. But what would have been the point of that? He hadn't made me do nothing. It weren't him that got through his window and shot the two men, one of them dead, one not. I could have left him in the river. Fact was, I didn't, though why I couldn't say. Then again, I guess it were him that pulled me out the river and put my arm back in. Maybe we was better off together than we would have been apart.

It was cold and I couldn't see why he had chosen to wake me. There was nothing there but the two of us. I was hungry but we didn't have anything along. We had got some water on the climb. There were streams, all right, so we weren't going to be thirsty, but I could have done with some grits or something to fill me up.

‘We'll get going first light.'

I wanted to ask him where. Where were we going that we had to be on our way? There was no one behind us, far as we knew. They hadn't checked our wagon. Then I remembered what was in the wagon and realized that they would come looking for us for sure, excepting how would they know where he come on board? And besides, there was someone out there as had done it and maybe they would find him pretty soon and forget about us.

I could see how the sky was starting to lighten a little far off, but it was still too dark to see much above or below. I eased myself up a little and something sharp jabbed into my hand. It was a stone, sharp and pointed. I held it up, trying to see when the light wasn't strong enough yet to make things out.

‘That there's an arrow,' he said, though I could see that clear enough myself now. I had seen arrowheads before. There were places you could pick them up. I hadn't expected to find one here, though.

I looked down where it had been and saw something else besides. There was earth around it and I had to rub it away before I could get my finger under it. It was a little man, made out of wood and little pinprick eyes with something fixed in them. He squatted down beside me and took it in his hand. A first finger of red shot out across the sky, scattering all the stars around it.

‘I heard where Indians used to go up into mountains to die,' he said. ‘Wanted to get close to the sky. Sometimes they took their children along with them. Or maybe I got it wrong. Seems to me I heard it some place.'

I wanted to ask why that would be, why anyone would go up to die.

‘Closer to the sky,' he said, as though he could hear what I was thinking. ‘See everything in the world, that's what I heard.'

A second finger reached out as if the red man were up there and pointing the way. I put the arrow and doll both in my pocket.

‘Not sure you should do that,' he said. ‘Maybe they was buried there of a purpose. Sacrifice or something.'

Even so, I kept them in my pocket. I could see why they had come here, though. There was just this one place with grass like soft moss, as though it were set here so you could take a rest. Maybe that's how they saw dying back then. Maybe that's how it was. Except it wasn't for my daddy. It weren't for him at all.

I looked around. There was a mist on the mountain and it seemed to drift around as if it wasn't sure whether to clear. I could see how if we went up into that, we might lose ourselves, even if up was up wherever you were. Down below, it was colouring up as the red sky began to change into something else, a kind of thin blue. I could see the first of the lakes, though they reflected back the sun so that they looked like pools of blood.

‘Ten minutes,' he said. ‘Ten minutes and we'll make a start. The sun will burn it off soon enough.'

I wanted to ask him where we were going, but I couldn't speak and couldn't think how I should ask him. So I just felt where the arrow and the doll were in my pocket and got myself ready to be going. I couldn't figure why we were going up, but didn't make a difference as far as I could see. It were somewhere else and somewhere else was where I needed to be. The red fingers were pulling back now, as if they had lost their grip, and suddenly there was the sun, gold and bright and starting its climb up like we was doing. It had sunk down to the left, clipping the edge of the mountain as it did, and now it was rising up over on the other side.

*   *   *

How dumb could I be, he thought to himself, feeling the rope chaffing his wrist, always having figured himself to be pretty sharp. And now here he was being suckered more than somewhat. Who else would have parked himself right in the middle of the people he was chasing, he asked himself. There I am, just dreaming whatever, and an arm reaches in and takes me round the neck. Then a bag over the head and the door opened and my arms pinned back by someone with the strength of a gorilla. So there I am. Except that I know damn well who it is and it ain't no fleeing felons. Far worse than that. It's the boys with horseshit for brains, and though they were put on earth because there was nowhere else would have had them, they had managed to sneak up on me who was supposed to be so bright. One of them put his hand on my hand and pushed me back in, taking hold of my hands and running a rope around them.

He sat, tape over his eyes, hands tied to the steering wheel. And now, he thought, they would be after those others. And a fair bet they weren't thinking of a citizen's arrest. These boys had murder on their minds, if they had minds, and where was the sheriff, sworn to uphold the law, but sitting in his car and waiting to hear the shots? Worse than that, they had tied his hands to the steering column of his brand spanking new Ford car as though he were still in control.

He knew it was only a matter of time before the agent came along and let him go, but who knew how long that might be? No time to check his watch, just the hand round his neck and by the time he had a bag over his neck, all he had had time to see was that there was nothing to see. It was still dark, then, was all he could think. So, what, two, three, four? Not that they would be able to do anything until sun-up. Try climbing that mountain in the dark and they'd break their legs or even their necks. Well, no great tragedy in that, he thought, straining to hear. If it was the mountain they were thinking of climbing. Until that moment, he had been thinking of the fields behind him, but his first thought now had been the mountain, as if somewhere in his heart he had been clear about that all along, unlikely as it seemed, unlikely as it was. So where were they? Close by?

‘Boys!' he shouted, assuming they were there still. ‘This is a bad idea. You are committing a felony. Obstructing an officer in the pursuit of his duty. And if you do more than that, you'll get charged with murder. And don't think you'll get off with it either. They'll move the venue. Try you somewhere nobody knows you.'

‘Won't nobody find us guilty of killing a nigger.'

He couldn't help himself. He couldn't have been standing more than half a dozen paces away, but the sheriff hadn't heard a thing. Well, he thought, I guess they are hunters and know a thing or two, dumb though they are.

‘Just let me go and I can take them in.'

‘They're here, then?'

So, they didn't know.

‘No, not here, somewhere down the line. I was just resting up.'

‘Liar. You found them, or you know where they are. They here, ain't they?'

‘I don't know.'

‘Save your breath, sheriff. First light, we out of here. Don't you worry none. Someone'll come by.'

‘And what'll happen if you find them?'

‘You know what'll happen.'

‘Then I got to come for you.'

‘You can try, sheriff. I wouldn't recommend it. Don't matter where you move it. You can slide it around all over the state, it'll come to the same thing. Besides, it'll be self-defence, ain't that right, boys? And there'll be plenty of witnesses, wouldn't you say?' He talked some more, putting his mouth close to the sheriff's ear, leaning in the window, breathing his words and the smell of onion, bourbon and decay. It was not an enlightening conversation, being terminated, finally, by an abrupt command. ‘Now shut your mouth, sheriff. We got things to do.'