Going Home (7 page)

I went out of the room. Pulling the table away from the door and opening it, I was greeted with the faces of two scared-shitless kids. Their eyes were red and puffy; the little one had snot all over her face.

“It’s okay, guys. Mommy’s okay. Come here.” I picked the little one up; her diaper was full—I mean we’re talking load-test full. I reached out for the little guy’s hand. “Come on, big brother, can you show me where mommy keeps the diaper bag so we can change sister’s diaper?” He stood up, and I could see he had wet himself too. I can’t blame them; I was surprised I didn’t piss my pants. He took my hand and led me to the sofa, where he tried to pick up the bag from where it sat on the floor at the end of it.

I laid the little one out on the cushion. “Can you hand me a diaper, buddy?” He reached in and took one out. He had stopped crying, but the little one was still at it. He reached back into the bag and took a pacifier out and plugged it into her mouth, which did the trick. “Good job. Give me five!” I stuck my hand out, and he swatted it. In undoing the diaper, I was met with a horror. I would rather deal with Lonnie’s brains, I thought. “Yikes!” I said, and little man chuckled. “Can you give me the wipies?” He went back into the bag and pulled out the tub of wipes, set them down, opened the lid, and handed me one. I went to work. By now he was relaxed, she wasn’t crying, and it was quiet, except for the sound of Mandy retching down the hall. I finally got the little girl cleaned up and sat her up on the sofa. “You stay here and watch little sister. I’m gonna check on Mommy, okay?” He nodded.

I went to the kitchen and found the trash can. The bag in it had a little trash but not much. I pulled the bag out and dumped the contents into the can. I went to the bedroom; Mandy was in the bathroom with the door shut. I went over to the body; grabbing the bag by the bottom, I pulled it inside out up my arm. Reaching down, I grabbed a handful of Lonnie’s hair; it was thick and slimy and at the same time gritty. Lifting the head, I pulled the bag down over it with my other hand and dropped it back on the floor with a thud. “I don’t guess that’s going to help much,” I said. The bedroom was a damn nightmare, and I leaned down to cover the body better with the comforter. In the living room, I heard Mandy talking to the kids; they were crying again, and so was she.

I walked out to the living room. “Miss, I’m gonna go over to your neighbors to check on them now. You gonna be okay for a minute?” She nodded, hugging her kids tight, with her face buried in their hair. I walked to the door. As I was pushing open the screen door, I heard, “Thank you.”

I turned to look at her. With tears in her eyes, she said it again, “Thank you.” After all the shit that just happened, this, this is what gets me kinda choked up. I felt a lump in my throat. All I could say was, “You’re welcome.” Then I turned and went out the door.

Walking out on the porch, I looked down at Thomas’s body; I felt pity for him. If it wasn’t for Lonnie, he wouldn’t be here. He was probably a good guy, if a little dimwitted.
I’m sure he has a decent family that will miss him.
Grabbing the hatchet by the handle, I wrenched it from his skull. I was surprised at how little blood there was. The hatchet had effectively sealed the wound, which bled very little. Upon removing it, a small flow began. I grabbed his legs and flipped him off the porch.

“Hello, the house!” I shouted as I approached the neighbors, I didn’t want to be shot.

The old man stepped out, this time with what looked like an old sixteen-gauge automatic shotgun cradled in his arms. He had cotton stuffed in both nostrils, and his eyes were already turning black. “Only one shot. Wur’d the uther’n go?”

“Neither of them are going anywhere. Could your wife come over and help her with the kids?” I motioned toward the house. As I did, an old woman came out of the house, holding her sweater closed across her stomach, and made for the house. She didn’t even acknowledge me as she went by.

When she got to the porch, I saw her look down at the body of Thomas. She didn’t even hesitate, going right up the stairs into the house. “Mandy!”

“Name’s James. That’s ma wife, Edith. You dun a good thang thur. He been comin’ around the last two days. We always got him to leave, though. Never thought he’d do anythin’ like is.” He nodded toward the house. “It’s good you was here. I don’t know whut woulda happened if you wasn’t.” We started walking toward the house; he stopped at Thomas’s body and looked down. “That’s a hard thing you done, son. Be careful, or that sort of thing will consume ya. I outta know. I looked into the eyes of six men as I kilt ’em. It’s somethin’ that will be with you ferever.” He looked at the hatchet in my hand, which I didn’t realize I was still holding. “Hell ova thing, son, hell ova a thing.”

We went into the house. Mandy and Edith were sitting on the sofa. “Ladies,” I said as I walked in.

Mandy looked up, “I can’t thank you enough. I don’t know what to say,” she said.

“I didn’t do anything anyone else wouldn’t have. I’m glad you an’ the lil ones are safe. What are you going to do now?” I walked over and sat on the edge of the coffee table.

“I wanted to go to my mom n’ dad’s, but they live about fifteen miles from here an’ I can’t walk that far with the babies.” She motioned to the two little ones, who had wandered over to James. Apparently he kept suckers in the pocket of his overalls, and they knew it.

“Why don’t you load up what you and the kids need in that truck and get over there? It runs; you can make it.” I pointed to the truck. Mandy and Edith just sat there for a minute.

“Well? There’s no reason to stay here now. Go to your mom’s,” I said,

Edith jumped up. “Let’s go, honey. I’ll get the kid’s stuff. You get what you need.” And with that they were off.

While the ladies were packing up what they needed, James and I walked out to the truck. It was a rust bucket; James started it up, and it ran fine. It was without a doubt the loudest thing I had heard, though. It felt like being on the starting line at a damn funny car race. James shut the truck down. “Damn thing sounds like shit but runs strong,” James said.

“Yeah, from the way I saw them two yahoos driving it, it should make it fifteen miles.” I turned and went to the house.

The ladies had a pile of stuff by the front door. I started hauling it out to the truck and piled it in the back. They soon had everything they thought they needed. I went back into the house and poked around in the kitchen. There wasn’t much there; actually there was nothing in there. Walking into the living room again, I asked, “Did you pack all your food up?”

“We didn’t have any. If it wasn’t for Edith and James, we wouldn’t eat.” She nodded toward the old couple.

“We couldn’t let you and them babies go hungry.” She tussled the little guy’s hair as she said it. “We never had any grandkids, so these are as good as ours. We love ’em jus’ the same.” Mandy walked over and hugged the old woman, both of them tearing up.

Mandy stepped back wiping her eyes. “We should go. It’s going to be dark soon.”

“Mandy, do you have a gun?” I asked.

“No, Ryan had to take his to the pawnshop. He was out of work for six months before getting the job on the rig.” You could tell she was afraid for him.

I walked out to the yard where Thomas’s body was lying and flipped it over, pulling the revolver from his back pocket. I patted his pockets real quick and found the lighter, a pack of 305s, and a Buck 110. Going back into the house, I checked Lonnie’s body. He had a BIC lighter and another pack of 305s. In his left front pocket were twelve .38-lead round-nose bullets. I flipped open the cylinder on the revolver, and it had the same thing. Pulling the knife from its sheath, I looked at the blade—it was cheap Pakistani steel—and dropped it on the floor. It wasn’t worth its weight to me. On second thought, I pulled the sheath from the belt and stuffed the knife in it.

Back in the living room, I asked Mandy, “You know how to shoot a gun?”

“Yeah, Daddy taught me how. I learned on a .22 revolver.”

I handed the revolver to her.

“Take this then. It’s basically the same thing, just a little bigger.” I held out the spare rounds and dropped them in her hand. She flipped open the cylinder and checked it and then, with a flip of her wrist, snapped it shut.
Oh
yeah,
she’ll
be
just
fine
, I thought.

We all walked out to the truck and helped her get the kids in and made sure she was ready to go. “Now don’t stop for anyone or anything. If someone steps out in the road in front of you, just stomp on the gas. As loud as this thing is, if they’re smart, they’ll get out of the way. If not, then do what you gotta do.” I kind of raised my eyebrows after that last part.

“After what happened today, ain’t nobody getting in front of me again. Ever.” You could tell she meant every word of it.

“Just don’t let it burn you up. There’s still good people out there. You just gotta look out for you n’ your’n first,” I said.

“Mandy, honey, you git to yer mom ’n’ dad’s. Tell yer daddy I said hi. We’ll be here if ya need anything.” James opened the door to the truck for her, and she got in. He shut the door behind her.

She looked out the window at me. “Ya know, I don’t even know your name.” She was looking me right in the eye.

“I’m Morgan.” I stuck out my hand. She took it.

“I’m Mandy,” she replied.

“I know, I heard your name many times this afternoon,” I said with a smile.

“Well, Morgan, I can’t thank you enough. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come by.” Her look turned a little dark.

“Well, I did, and that’s all that matters. You get going now, and remember, don’t stop.” With that she started the truck and backed out, leaving the three of us there, waving at her.

Once the truck was headed down the road, Edith looked at me and said, “Supper’ll be ready in about an hour. An I ain’t askin’!” She turned and headed for the house.

“You better be there, son. She got a willer tree out back. If ya ain’t there, she’ll come after ya with a switch.” He grinned at me as he said it.

“Mr. James, I couldn’t turn down home cookin’. But I don’t want to put y’all out none,” I replied.

“Don’t worry, son, we got plenty. Come over an’ get cleaned up fer supper,” he said.

“If you don’t mind, Mr. James, I’d like to do a couple of things in here first, but I’ll be there in an hour.” I nodded toward the house.

“Fine by me, son, jus’ don’t be late.” He turned and walked to his house, and I went back inside.

I flopped down on the sofa and just sat there. So much had happened today, only four days after the … the what—what the hell did happen? In four days, I had killed three men and gone less than fifty miles. I was never gonna get home like this. I started thinking about some assholes breaking into my house, kicking in my front door—then a little smile spread across my lips—and being met with a hail of gunfire! Mel and the girls, the older two anyway, were trained to shoot. They aren’t marksmen, but the shotty and the other XD left out for them were plenty enough for them to take care of themselves. Not to mention where the house was and the neighbors. There were three deputies on our street, and Mike next door just got home a week ago from the Stan. They’d be fine.

I got up to take a look around. Walking into the bathroom, I saw myself in the mirror. “You look like shit,” the reflection in the mirror told me, and I had to agree. I needed a bath and a shave. Bath was out of the question, but I could manage a whore’s bath and shave if I could find some water. Searching the house, I found the hot water heater in the master bedroom closet. It was a smaller one set up on a stand off the floor. Opening the drain, my hand was filled with warm water; it wasn’t hot, but it was sort of warm.

I hustled across the road and got my stuff and came back to the house. I took my hygiene kit out and laid it on the sink in the bathroom. I finally found a five-gallon bucket outside and brought it back to the hot water heater. Filling it about half full, I took it to the bathroom; after plugging the sink, I poured it full. On a shelf was a can of shaving cream, and I found a clean washcloth under the sink. I stripped down bare-assed. Using the bar of soap on the sink, I proceeded to wash my stinkin’ ass. For washing in a sink, I thought I did a pretty good job; I certainly felt better. After draining the sink and refilling it, I soaked the cloth in the water and then wrapped it around my face. After letting it soak, I lathered my face and shaved. It was a little tough; the water wasn’t really hot enough, but it was a damn sight better than a cold shave.

After dressing in a clean change of clothes, I went through all the pockets of what I had been wearing for the last four days and dropped them into the bucket, even digging out the crusty socks from the day before. Lastly, I dropped the bandana I used for a sweat rag on top. Carrying the bucket and the bar of soap back to the water heater, I filled it till the clothes were covered and dropped the soap in on top. From a kitchen drawer, I took a potato masher and agitated the water and then removed the soap and let it set. I put on fresh socks and my Merrell’s—I needed a break from those boots—and walked next door.

Knocking on the door, I was told, “It’s open. Come on in.” I walked into a tidy little house. From the front door, I could see the kitchen and the table set for dinner. I walked into the kitchen and was surprised by the spread I saw on the table. With a rush, bygone days of my youth came back to me in a flash. For many years, I lived next door to my grandmother. She was the sweetest lady that ever lived, from the mountains of North Carolina, and solid as stone.

On the table was a cake of cornbread, real cornbread, not that yellow cake shit from a box. There was a water glass with green onions in it, a plate with sliced cucumber and sliced tomatoes, a bowl full of green beans with large chunks of bacon throughout, and another bowl full of steaming stew beef. Edith was at the stove and turned to me. “Well, sit down. It ain’t much but it’ll do.”

“Miss Edith, this looks wonderful. Reminds me of my granny.” I took a seat at the table as James walked in.