“My mom uses a lot of artificial stuff, but she also likes to make wreaths with live plants. The only problem with collecting plants is she hates going into the woods, because she has a terrible reaction to chigger bites. If you could find some good plants and give them to her, she wouldn't get too mad at you for messing up her best wreath.”
Jimmy still felt sad. “But I don't know what kind of plants to get, and I don't have a way to get to the woods. Mama and Daddy aren't coming back until tomorrow morning, and then we have to go to church.”
Walt reached in his pocket and pulled out his car keys.
“That's where I come in. We can go in my car and be back before supper. I'll leave her a note on the refrigerator.”
Jimmy hesitated.
“Do you have a better plan?” Walt asked. “I don't really care. I just stopped by to get something to drink before going over to a friend's house.”
Jimmy couldn't let his chance go. “No, let's go. I need to put on some blue jeans if we're going to be in the woods.”
While he changed clothes, Jimmy had an idea. He rejoined Walt in the foyer.
“Could we go by my house? I need to give Buster his food and water.”
“Sure. That's on the way.”
J
IMMY DIDN'T KNOW MUCH ABOUT CARS, BUT HE COULD TELL
Walt was excited about his new transportation. To Jimmy, it was simply a small black car.
“It's four years old and only has thirty thousand miles on it,” Walt said as they got in. “I've already had it up to a hundred.”
Jimmy had to move two bags of fast-food leftovers in order to sit. Walt reached into one of the bags and took out a french fry. It was so hard that it snapped when he broke it off in his mouth. Jimmy buckled his seat belt.
“You don't have to buckle up. I'm a good driver.”
Jimmy left the seat belt in place.
“I guess you always buckle up, don't you?” Walt asked.
“Mama won't start the car if I'm not buckled.”
“Suit yourself, but I'm not your mama.”
Walt backed out of the driveway. When he did, the car swerved slightly to the left, and he barely missed the mailbox. After that, he settled down, and they arrived without problems at the Mitchell home. The sight of the house made Jimmy miss Mama again. He wished he could have stayed at home by himself. He and Buster would have managed just fine. When he opened the door of the car, Jimmy could hear Buster was barking furiously.
“Do your dog thing,” Walt said. “I'm going to wait here.”
Jimmy called out, “It's me, Buster!”
The dog stopped barking. When Jimmy opened the gate, Buster jumped up and put his paws on Jimmy's leg to receive a welcoming pat on the head. The dog's water bowl was almost empty.
“What happened to your water?”
Jimmy looked down at his jeans and saw wet paw prints.
“It's to drink, not for swimming,” he scolded.
Buster did not seem at all sorry. Jimmy turned on the water hose and filled the bowl. Buster lapped up the cool water. There wasn't much dry food in his bowl, either.
“Did the squirrels steal your food?” he asked.
Jimmy refilled the dog's bowl. Walt honked the horn. Jimmy patted Buster on the head. He hated leaving the dog so quickly. He picked up Buster and carried him to the car. Walt rolled down the window and yelled at him.
“What are you doing with that dog?”
Jimmy came closer before answering.
“Could Buster go with us?”
“No, I don't want a dog making a mess in my car.”
“He rides with Mama and me and stays on the floor. He won't jump on the seat if I tell him not to. I promise that he'll be good.”
Buster lifted his head and licked Jimmy's chin.
“How cute,” Walt said. “Get in. I'll give him a chance, but if he causes any trouble, you'll have to do a lot more than vacuum my room to make up for it.”
Jimmy opened the car door and carefully placed Buster on the floorboard.
“Stay!” he commanded in his strongest voice as he fastened his seat belt.
Buster curled up in a ball at Jimmy's feet. Walt left town heading west and turned on the radio so loud that Jimmy put his fingers in his ears and looked out the window. He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned toward his cousin.
“Do you want me to turn down the music?” he asked.
Jimmy nodded. “It hurts my ears. And dogs can hear better than we do, so it's probably bothering Buster too.”
O
N THE WEST SIDE OF TOWN, THE RESIDENTIAL NEIGHBORHOODS
of Piney Grove ended not far from the city limits. Rows of nicer homes were replaced by scrubby wooded areas with small dwellings spaced farther apart. They passed several dirt roads that disappeared into the woods. Walt turned down a paved side road and sped up.
“Why are you going so fast?” Jimmy asked as the trees began to flash by.
“There is a straight stretch of road ahead. Let's have some fun.”
J
immy leaned over and patted Buster on the head. The small, lightweight car began rocking back and forth as the speed increased. They went around a sweeping curve, and Jimmy felt his body strain against the seat belt. Walt let out a yell.
“Here it comes!”
A long, straight section of road lay before them; however, the road wasn't flat. It went up and down. Jimmy could see a farmhouse far ahead. A barbed-wire fence ran along both sides of the road. They topped the first little hill, and Jimmy felt his stomach jump inside his body.
“Oh!” he exclaimed.
“Wait until you feel the next one!” Walt responded.
Buster was trying to stand up on the floorboard. They went over the next hill with such speed that they almost became airborne. Buster skidded around on the floor, losing his balance. Jimmy's stomach jumped to his throat.
“Stop!” Jimmy called out.
“Yahoo!” Walt exclaimed.
Jimmy looked out the window and saw a man standing on the front porch of the farmhouse. There was a frown on his face, and Jimmy saw his mouth move in anger as he raised his fist. Walt barreled past the house and over a final small hill that again caused Jimmy's stomach to lurch. Walt took his foot off the gas. The car began to slow, and he braked as they entered another curve. By they time they came out of the curve, he'd returned to a more normal speed.
“I bet you've never done that before,” Walt said.
Jimmy didn't answer.
“Do you want to do it again?” Walt asked.
“No. I want to get the plants and go back to your house.”
“Don't be such a baby.”
“I'm not a baby. I'm almost fourteen years old.”
They drove a few more minutes. The paved road ended and became gravel. It hadn't rained in the area for several weeks, and a cloud of reddish-gray dust floated behind the car.
“You'll have to help me wash the car when we go home,” Walt said.
“I'm good at washing cars.”
They crossed a one-lane bridge over a narrow stream and drove a couple of miles. Walt pulled off the road and parked behind a massive oak tree.
“This is a good spot. No one coming from town can see the car.”
Jimmy opened the door and let Buster jump out.
“Will he run off ?” Walt asked. “I'm not going to chase a stupid dog through the woods.”
“He'll come when I call.”
Walt reached under the front seat of the car and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He knocked the pack against the palm of his hand, then took one out and lifted it to his nose.
“Ah, smell this,” he said, handing the cigarette to Jimmy. “There is nothing like the smell of fine tobacco.”
Jimmy sniffed the cigarette. No one in his family smoked, and he'd never held a cigarette. Walt was right. The tobacco had a rich, sweet smell. His cousin took out another cigarette and pushed in the car's lighter. When it popped out, he showed Jimmy the glowing coils.
“Quick! Hold the cigarette up to the coils and breathe in.”
Jimmy didn't move. Walt touched the lighter to the end of his cigarette and took a deep drag. Wide-eyed, Jimmy watched the smoke roll from his cousin's mouth. Walt pushed the lighter in and when it popped out, held it out to Jimmy.
“Go ahead. You're almost fourteen.”
“I'd have to ask Mama. She doesn't like cigarettes.”
Walt took another puff. “Your grandpa used to smoke like a chimney. That's why he had a heart attack.”
Jimmy didn't know that Grandpa had smoked.
“Are you going to have a heart attack?” he asked.
Walt laughed. “No. This is just for fun.”
Buster barked, and Jimmy looked out the window as the dog approached a hole in the ground and sniffed around the edges.
“Do you know why I brought you here?” Walt asked.
Jimmy turned away from Buster. “Yes, so we can find some plants for Aunt Jill.”
Walt laughed. “What kind of plants? Marijuana?”
“What's that?”
“They use it to make another kind of cigarette that really makes you feel good.”
“But what about the plants she likes to use in the wreaths? You said you would show me.”
“Get out of the car.”
Leaving the unlit cigarette on the seat, Jimmy did as he was told. Walt took a final puff from his cigarette and dropped it to the ground. Jimmy shut the car door. No other cars had passed by since they stopped, and the air was still. Jimmy could hear Buster rustling through the underbrush that grew beyond the shade of the tree.
“Before we go looking for plants, I'd like to play a game,” Walt said. “Is that okay with you?”
“What kind of game?” Jimmy asked suspiciously.
“It's an escape game.”
Jimmy stood still. Walt took off his belt and held it up.
“There was a famous guy named Houdini who could get out of anything. People would tie him up with ropes, put handcuffs on his wrists, and even put chains around his legs, but he could always get free.”
“Deputy Askew put handcuffs on me to show me how they work, and I couldn't take them off. He had to use a key to unlock them.”
“You're not Houdini.”
Jimmy looked at the belt in Walt's hand. “I don't want to play that game. I want to get the plants.”
Walt moved closer until he was directly in Jimmy's face. “You can tie me up first if you want, or I can tie you up. Then we'll see who can wiggle free. There are other parts of the game that I can't tell you about until we start playing.”
Jimmy looked in his cousin's eyes and saw evil. A wave of fear washed over him. He spun and started to run. In a few steps he was into the woods surrounding the clearing. Buster barked and ran after him.
“Come back here!” Walt commanded.
Jimmy didn't slow down or look back. He could hear Walt's footsteps close behind him. Buster barked excitedly at the mad dash through the woods. Jimmy tore through a small grove of trees but didn't slow down even when skinny branches scratched his face and arms.
“If you don't stop, I'm going to beat you bloody!” Walt called out.
Jimmy ducked under a large branch. When he did, his glasses fell off. For a split second, he hesitated, but the sound of Walt crashing through the underbrush seemed more important than finding his glasses. He kept running, holding his hands before his face to try to clear a way through the blurry branches and tree trunks.
Jimmy reached the top of a rise and turned. He didn't see the drop-off until he'd run over the edge and found himself falling through the air. He landed in a bush that crackled beneath him. Buster scampered around and down the rocks.
Dazed, Jimmy stood up. He could hear Walt cursing and making threats. Jimmy shook his head to clear it and then continued running down the hill. He didn't stop until the pain in his lungs became so great that he had to grab a small pine tree and hold on. His chest pumped up and down while he caught his breath. When the sound of his breathing quieted, he listened. He heard Walt's voice, but it was farther away now. Jimmy couldn't tell if his cries were the sound of rage or pain. Buster barked.
“Quiet!” Jimmy commanded.
Jimmy continued running but at a slower pace. He didn't know where to go or what to do. All he knew was that he needed to get as far away as possible from the evil he'd seen in Walt's eyes. The next time he stopped to catch his breath, the only sound that reached his ears was the chirping of a bird perched on a limb above his head. He waited longer. Still no sound of Walt. He looked around. He could see things within a few feet of his face, but beyond that, his surroundings were fuzzy. Buster had wandered off, and Jimmy couldn't see or hear him.
“Buster,” he hissed out.
He heard a crunching in the leaves behind him. He whirled and strained to see who or what was approaching. In a moment, the dog returned to his side. Jimmy slumped down on the ground at the base of the tree. Buster jumped into his lap and licked his chin.
Jimmy began to cry.
He sobbed. His whole body shook. To avoid wailing out loud, he stuffed the bottom of his shirt into his mouth. Buster laid his head on Jimmy's leg. Jimmy bit down on his shirt until the crashing waves of sadness went away. He sniffled a few more times and stroked Buster's back.
“What am I going to do?” he asked in a shaky voice.
He rubbed his eyes and wished he had his glasses. He couldn't think of anything to do except to keep walking. Standing up, he continued in what he hoped was the direction away from Walt. The underbrush thickened and slowed him. He pushed aside small limbs with his arms and shuffled his feet along the ground. In a few minutes, the ground cleared up again and stayed like that for a long time. Jimmy went on without hearing the sound of another person or any sight of Piney Grove. The sun sank lower in the late-afternoon sky. Buster roamed to one side or another of Jimmy's route. Several times, Jimmy called him back.