Dark River Road (7 page)

Then he remembered something else he’d heard. “Is that what happened to your daddy?” he asked.

Dempsey turned around and went to cut off the water still spraying from the hose. It was easy to see him in the moonlight, his sleeveless white tee shirt and his boxers sticking out in the soft gloom next to the house. Old boards creaked when he went up onto the porch, and Chantry saw the flare of a match as he lit up the old pipe he kept out there next to his bent willow rocker chair.

It was true. Even without Dempsey saying anything, he knew it. He went up on the steps and sat down. Familiar night sounds settled around them. Crickets, bullfrogs, hoot owls. A dog barked, sounding pretty far off, and another closer answered it. The rich smell of tobacco smoke drifted on the night breeze, mixing with raw earth and the acrid reminder of ignorance and hate.

“It was a lot different back then than it is now,” Dempsey said. “Lawmen looked the other way.”

“They still do.”

“Not like back then. Not nothing like back when I was a boy.” The willow rocker creaked a little with a shift of his weight. “Things were a lot different then. This ain’t the first cross I’ve seen burned. This was just kids. It’s a lot different when it’s grown men.”

“We studied the civil rights movement that went on in the fifties and sixties,” Chantry said after a moment. “This is the eighties. I thought all that was done with.”

Dempsey’s chair creaked a little louder. “Some things don’t never get done with, and that’s a fact. Not as long as there are people willin’ to hate for no good reason. Not as long as there are men with things to hide. Those men are the most dangerous, Chantry, because they’re scared. Don’t ever underestimate a man with something to hide.”

“You mean old man Quinton, don’t you. What’s he got to hide?”

Dempsey didn’t answer. And somehow, that was answer enough. Chantry got a sick feeling deep in the pit of his stomach. He thought about rumors of missing men and burning crosses and hanging bodies, and knew Bert Quinton had to be a part of it all.

“I don’t want him to get away with it,” Chantry said fiercely.

“Boy, there’s lots of laws, but the only one I’m sure nobody can ever escape is the law of retribution. Things have a way of coming back on people. Sometimes, just like they did it to others. Let God take the vengeance, Chantry. He’s much better at it and He never fails.”

Chantry wasn’t so sure he believed that, but obviously Dempsey did, so he just nodded. It seemed to him that God always took too much time to make folks pay for the wrong they did. Maybe he’d give God a little help one of these days.

“And if I don’t,” Chantry said when Rainey still hadn’t said anything, “you haven’t lost any money. You could still sell him.”

“Or use him as bait.”

Chantry didn’t answer that. He waited, and in a minute Rainey nodded. “Okay. But you’ll have to feed him. I ain’t spendin’ no more of my money feedin’ a dog that might not sell.”

“If Chantry buys the food and invests time and money into the dog,” Mama spoke up, “he should get part of the proceeds from the sale.”

Chantry shot her a quick, frantic look.
No
. He didn’t want to risk Rainey changing his mind and doing something terrible with Shadow. He knew what he meant by using him as bait. Dog fighting was supposed to be illegal in most places, but it still went on. Bait dogs died horribly.

A wave of sickness washed over him when Rainey’s eyes went thin again and his look at Mama was mean. Chantry clenched his fists in his lap and spoke up.

“It’s all right,” he said quickly. “I don’t need any of the money. I just want to do it. To see if I can. That’s all. Rainey can have all the money.”

“It’s a lot of money, Chantry. Let Rainey think about it.”

“I don’t have to think about it, by God.” Rainey’s fist slammed down on the table. “As long as I get two thousand dollars, he can have anything over that.”

Chantry shot Mama a quick look again. He’d never get close to that for Shadow. She had to know it. Didn’t she? But Mama was nodding.

“After expenses, of course.”

Rainey didn’t argue. He just looked satisfied.

After dinner was over and Chantry had washed up for Mama, he went outside to find her sitting on the top step in front. She wore a light sweater pulled tight around her, and stared up at the sky like she was counting stars.

“Why’d you do that?” he asked when he sat beside her. “I thought he was going to say no.”

“Now he thinks he has a good bargain. He’s more likely to stick to it. Keep a detailed list of your expenses. Oh, look at the moon. It’s nearly full.”

He turned to look. It was bright in the sky, still low enough, looking like a misshapen egg against the dark velvet night. Stars glittered, so many he’d never be able to count them all.

“I met your father on a night like this,” Mama said softly, and Chantry went still. She never talked about him. He always had to pull information from her a little at a time, and still never heard enough about his father. Mama went on:

“My car broke down and he stopped to help me. He had it fixed in only fifteen minutes. Then we went for coffee but ended up sitting in the park by the river and looking at the stars. Time passed so quickly it was nearly morning before we knew it.”

She said all that in a dreamy tone, as if talking to herself. He waited, holding his breath, the yearning to hear more so sharp inside that it hurt. Mama’s hair was softer around her face, looser than usual, and a faintly wistful smile made her look almost young again.

She turned to look at him. “I thought it would last forever. So did he. It turned out that only a few months was our forever.”

He wanted to ask what she meant, but inside the house Rainey shouted at Mikey to shut up and Mama quickly got up and went inside. He heard her speak sharply to Rainey, and then softly to Mikey, who must have had a bad dream again.

Disappointed, he got up and went around back to check on Shadow. He looked lonely in the empty pen, but leaped up when he saw Chantry. Bright clear eyes gleamed in light from the house windows, and he gave a quick bark. Chantry shushed him, afraid Rainey might come out and decide the dog was a nuisance.

Shadow’s fur had grown out soft and silky, a pretty coat for all that the dog was still so small. But he’d grow. Doc Malone had given him a bunch of vitamins and supplements for his food that would ensure it. Shadow gave Chantry’s fingers a good cleaning. He’d have to build a dog house before much longer so he’d have a warm place during the cold, wet months. Maybe he could find some extra wood in the garage that’d do for part of it. He’d keep helping Dempsey with autumn planting in the park, spreading mulch and putting in bulbs for spring and that would bring in a little bit more money. But he needed steady work.

After school and on weekends would be all he could manage and keep his grades up. Mama was really strict about that. She said he’d have to have good grades to get a scholarship to college, because they’d never be able to afford it. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to go to college or what he wanted to do. He did know he wanted out of Cane Creek. He’d do anything he had to do. He wanted a job that’d pay enough to take Mama with him, and with insurance so he could get Mikey’s legs fixed. And his heart. The doctors here said Mikey needed a hole in his heart fixed in the next few years if he was ever to grow stronger.

He’d do it. He’d do it all. Mama always said a person could do anything if they wanted it bad enough and worked hard enough for it. He guessed maybe she didn’t want more than she had now, since she worked hard all the time and still didn’t have much that he could see. They got up early every day, and walked down to the end of Liberty Road to wait on Mama’s ride to school, where he and Mikey would sit in her empty classroom and do their lessons or read while Mama did all the stuff schoolteachers had to do before their day started. There was a lot more to teaching than just giving tests and homework, he knew that much. Sometimes they had to stay after school, too, and help Mama with stuff he thought the janitors should do. But Mama said hard work never hurt anybody, and she looked okay, so he figured it was true.

Chantry sat outside with Shadow for a long time, waiting until Rainey fell asleep watching TV and he could go inside without attracting attention. Anytime Jack Daniel showed up at the dinner table, Rainey got unreasonable.

He looked up at the sky again, where the moon still hung behind lacy tree branches. He thought about his father again and wondered what it’d have been like if he’d lived. If he hadn’t gone to that terrible place to be killed. If he’d stayed with his family. Not that it mattered now. It was just a dream. He knew that, just like he knew he couldn’t change what had happened. But he could change the future. Mama told him often enough that he could, that he held his own destiny in his hands.

“There is an entire world out there for you, Chantry, but you have to be prepared for it. If you are not, you will pay a price. It is up to you to decide how high that cost might be. Just remember that there is a price for everything you do in life, even though it may not seem so at the time.”

He wondered sometimes if she’d been talking to him or herself, wondered just how much she regretted marrying Rainey. She’d said once that she couldn’t regret anything that had brought Mikey into her life, but she’d not said she was glad she’d married Rainey, either.

Chantry put his head back against the side of the garage and Shadow curled up beside him, his body warm against his leg. He sat on the damp ground for a long time while the moon made its arc through the sky. He’d committed himself to long days now, but he didn’t regret it. If it’d keep Shadow alive and close, it’d be worth it. He just had to figure out a way to do what he’d said he could do.

That Friday he went by Cane Creek Animal Clinic to talk to Dr. Malone. The vet took care of cows, horses, goats and sheep as well as dogs and cats. He had another vet come in from time to time to help out, but not many stayed in Cane Creek that long.

“Hey Chantry,” Malone said with a nod. “A little busy here, so tell me what you need.” The vet wasn’t big on social chit chat.

“A job.”

Malone looked over his shoulder at him, studied him for a minute. “Thought you were in school.”

“I am. After school, weekends, I’m free. I’m pretty strong, and don’t mind hard work.”

“That right?” Malone swabbed off the stainless steel table with a rag and some kind of spray stuff in a clear plastic bottle. He wore his graying brown hair pulled back in a ponytail on the back of his neck and had a scrub jacket over a black tee shirt. Some people said he was an old hippie because he believed in natural remedies as well as modern medicine, but no one ever said he wasn’t good at what he did. Malone shrugged. “Got a boy that comes in to help out right now.”

“Okay. Keep me in mind if it doesn’t work out.”

“Yeah. It’s not working out real well. He doesn’t show up half the time, doesn’t clean like I tell him when he’s here. Can you think for yourself?”

Chantry met his eyes and nodded. Hope made his heart beat faster. “Try me.”

“All right. Got Mrs. Tidwell’s sick cat in that last cage on the bottom. The cage needs cleaning pretty bad. There’s the disinfectant. See how clean you can get it.”

Chantry got a bucket and the disinfectant, a scrub brush and some rags and approached the cage. It stunk something fierce. His stomach rolled. A fat white cat squatted in the middle of a wad of newspaper, eyes slitted and glaring up at him as if daring him to even try. He knelt in the front, and slid open the latch slowly. The cat hissed, sharp teeth showing. He waited a minute, then started talking softly to the cat. It wasn’t having any of it. The minute Chantry put his hand in the cage the cat slashed him quick as anything, four red stripes of blood welling up on the back of his hand before he could jerk it back fast enough.

“Shit!” he couldn’t help yelping, then glanced over his shoulder. Malone wasn’t in sight. He turned back to the cage. The cat hissed again, looking menacing and pretty proud of the fact it’d gotten rid of that hand. This wasn’t going to be easy. Smears of poop went up the steel walls and lay in clumps on the floor. A litter box was virtually untouched, but newspaper was wet and soggy and shredding with urine and feces. Mrs. Tidwell’s cat hunched in the middle of all of it.