Three Sides of the Tracks (15 page)

19

Passing Time

Slink noticed the first hint of light in the dark sky. “Everybody get out
and find something to cover the car.”

Whitey moaned and rubbed his eyes. “Now? Why don’t we wait till we can
see?”

“Get your butt outta the car. You too,” he said looking at Caroline.
“Bring her with you.”

Caroline’s eyes showed her distaste, but she shook Brandy. “Wake up,
Brandy, come on.”

Brandy opened her eyes and looked confused until she realized where they
were. She sighed deeply and clasped Caroline’s hand.

Even turned sideways, Smurf struggled to squeeze through the gap behind
the front seat.

“Shoot, I don’t see nothin’ but pine straw,” Whitey said.

“Pile it on then. I don’t want no airplanes to spot us.”

“Underneath all these trees? I don’t think—”

“Don’t think, Whitey, just do it.”

“Okay, okay, Slink. Just sayin’, that’s all.”

“Sweet Cheeks, come over here. You too Smurf.”

Brandy gripped Caroline’s hand and followed.

“Get on Smurf’s shoulders, grab that branch and pull it down.”

Caroline started to protest but the welt was still fresh enough to keep
her quiet. She walked over to Smurf. “How—”

“Kneel down, Smurf.”

Smurf dropped to his knees, and Caroline straddled his neck. When he
stood up, she could barely reach the inch-thick branch.

Caroline grabbed the rough bark and pulled the branch down. “What now?”

“Back up till it breaks, Smurf.”

 Caroline tightened her grip and held the limb as firmly as her muscles
allowed, but suddenly the limb began slipping, then it was loose. The bark
ripped through Caroline’s hand, tearing the skin off her fingers and palm.

 “Owwww,” she screeched and jerked her hands away. The branch snapped
back.

“What the hell are you doin’?” Slink yelled.

“I can’t hold onto it. It slipped through my hands.” Caroline screamed
but tapered her tone at the last words.

Slink shook his head. “Good gosh a mighty. I bet you’d hold onto it if it
was a wad of money.”

He opened the trunk and took out a big Buck knife. “Git on Smurf’s
shoulder’s Whitey and pull that damn branch back. Come here, Sweet Cheeks. I’m
going to hold you up and you hack at that branch. Think you can do that?”

Caroline looked at her torn hands and bit her lip, holding back tears to
keep from showing any weakness. She shrugged her shoulders and reached for the
knife. She’d never even seen a knife that big, much less held one.

Whitey pulled the branch back.

“Don’t get any bright ideas, Sweetness,” Slink said eyeing the knife. He
knelt down. “Get on.”

Caroline sat on Slink’s shoulders and was surprised when he stood up with
much less effort than Smurf. His shoulders were just as wide and she could feel
their strength. A whiff of masculine odor chased away the pine scent for an
instant and she squeezed her eyelids shut as if that would stop the spontaneous
thought.

“I can’t quite reach it,” she said.

“Stand up,” Slink said and put his palms under her feet to lift her.

“Get over here and steady your buddy,” he yelled at Brandy.

Brandy looked baffled.

“Hold her legs so she doesn’t sway, dumb ass. Hurry up; we don’t have all
day.”

Slink lifted Caroline with seeming ease. She hacked at the branch until
it gave a loud crack and snapped off.

They cut four branches off that way then Slink lowered Caroline to the
ground. “Weren’t tempted to hack at me with that thing, were you?” he said with
a hint of amusement.

“Maybe once or twice,” Caroline said without expression.

Slink chuckled and took the knife.

20

Information

A shaft of sunlight hit Danny’s face and his eyes popped open. As soon as
he moved, the pain erupted, starting at the top of his head and running the
length of his body. “Whooooowee.” Then Caroline’s face appeared.

He jumped up, but the beating had taken its toll. Dizziness made him lie
back down. Little by little, he loosened his knotted muscles then slowly raised
up. Every step to the bathroom was torturous. The sight of his face in the
mirror made him cringe. If the skin wasn’t scraped or cut, it was bruised, or
so it seemed.

He opened the medicine cabinet and shook a few aspirins from the bottle, chewed
them up and swallowed. He drank some water from the tap, then turned the shower
on as hot as he could stand it.

The hot water peppered against his skin. Steam filled the room and seeped
into his still taut muscles. Water on the floor turned pink with tendrils of
red. A knock interrupted him.

“Yeah.”

“Somebody’s here to see you, Danny.”

“Well, tell them to come back. I don’t feel like seeing anybody, Mom.”

“It’s Bernard. He says it’s important.”

“Shoot. Okay, I’ll be right out. Thanks.”

The steam and aspirin eased the worst of the pain but didn’t help his
anger from the events of yesterday, which seemed like it lasted a week. Caroline’s
smile dispelled the anger. He toweled off and slipped on clean clothes.

Belinda patted his hand when he leaned over her shoulder and kissed her
cheek. “Thanks for calling Da . . . Martin. I’d probably be dead if he hadn’t come.”

“You can call him Dad if you like, Danny. It’s perfectly all right.”

“Okay, Mom. I don’t quite know what to call him right now. Kinda
confusing. And with all this other . . . whew.”

“Bernard went back home. Wanted you to come over.
Put that down
. I
told you not to do that,” Belinda exclaimed when he put the orange juice carton
to his mouth.

Danny kept drinking then smiled and quickly set it on the table and
rushed out the door as Belinda started toward him. “Goin’ to Bernard’s,” he
yelled.

“Dang it, I told you not to go off with that slimy snake in the grass,”
Bernard bellowed as Danny walked toward the back porch. Bernard pushed himself
out of the rocking chair and motioned for Danny to sit. “Here, you need this
more than me, looks like.”

Danny plopped down on the wooden porch. “Okay, Bernard, you’ve had your
fun. I figured you’d be rubbing it in.”

“Rub it in, hell. Boy, I ain’t said nothin’ yet. Anyways, it’s my fault
as much as yours. I should’a been more firm and not let him take you off. You
don’t know him like I do. Well, I guess you do now, huh?” Bernard said and
paused just as Danny began to answer.

“Dang, you look rough. I bet you’re sore as a hound dog after a coon
fight.”

Danny’s mood lightened. “Yeah. You nailed it. Coon dog sore. That’s it
exactly.”

“Now don’t go gittin’ touchy. Just havin’ a little fun with you.”

“I know, Bernard; so am I.”

“Well, okay then. You want a chug of whiskey? Best thing, if you ask me,
and I think you’re gonna need it.”

Danny’s head cocked, wondering whether Bernard was talking about more
than pain. “If you think so.”

“Shore thang.”

“You got something to mix in it?”

“Co-Cola.”

“Yeah, give me some then ‘cause I’m hurting pretty bad for real.”

Bernard pushed himself up and went inside. He came back with a can of
Coca-Cola and a couple of glasses half full of whiskey.

“Just chug the whiskey then chase it down with the Coke. I know you ain’t
no whiskey drinker so might as well get it over with. Besides, I got something
to tell you.”

Danny’s eyes widened.

“Drink it.”

“Geez, how much?” Danny said eyeing the half-full water glass.

“Maybe that is a little much. Don’t want you drunk. Pour a little into my
glass. ‘Bout half of that, then chug the rest.”

Danny did as told and gasped as the whiskey went down.

“Damn,” Bernard said as Danny snatched the Coke. “Times shore changed. We
used to’ve drank that little bit of whiskey and not even blinked.”

Danny wiped tears from his eyes. “Whew.”

“You’ll forget about the pain in a minute. I seen all the ruckus at yore
place last night and figured it had something to do with the church since you
left here with that sorry piece of crap. I’d heard ‘bout the church on the
radio and worried it would go bad for you, but not as bad as all that.”

“Bad as all what? What do you mean?”

“Danny boy, you’re slow as a constipated pregnant woman sometimes. Dang.
Here,” Bernard said and reached for a newspaper lying on a dusty table. “You’re
front page news, boy.”

Danny saw the picture of himself with blood covering the upper part of
one side of his face and a bloody cut on the other side. Blood splattered his
shirt. The police sergeant was shown gripping Danny’s arm with one hand and
trying to shield the photographer from taking the picture with the other. It
was the most unflattering picture of the way Danny was treated that Nancy could
find before turning it in to the newspaper early that morning, barely in time
to make the early edition.

She’d also written part of the story, which told how the police had
demolished Belinda’s house without cause and beaten Danny in the course of
arresting him for being involved in the church robbery. She made sure to
highlight that Danny had an alibi proving he had not been anywhere close to the
church at the time it had been robbed and the girls abducted. She left out the
part of him being with the group earlier in the day.

It was hard to tell from the front page which was the main story: the
beating of Danny Taylor by incompetent police or the robbery of the church.
Jessie Whitaker demolishing the front of the Bluebird Cafe wasn’t mentioned.

“Geez, Bernard, I wish I could keep my mother from seeing that.”

“I know y’all don’t subscribe but you can bet yore bottom dollar some
busy body’ll make sure she sees it or tell her
all
about it in living
color. Under the guise of friendship of course.” Bernard spit a stream of tobacco
onto the grass. “Assholes. Well, what gonna be, gonna be and that’s that.
Thought I’d better let you know though.”

Danny looked up, not noticing most of the pain was gone. “I appreciate
it, Bernard, but you don’t know the whole story. I really don’t care ‘bout
this, except for mother. One of the girls Slink kidnapped is a close friend of
mine. Has been for a long time. Since we were little.” Danny lowered his head
to hide the tears coursing down his cheeks.

Bernard rocked in his chair for a few minutes, waiting for Danny to get
himself together and thinking of what he should or shouldn’t say. Finally, he
stopped rocking, reached down and grabbed Danny by the shoulder.

“I think I know where that son of a biscuit-eatin’, suck-egg dog has gone
to hide out.”

“You mean Slink?”

“Course I mean Slink. Who else? Close yore mouth boy. You look foolish.”

“How . . . how would you know? I mean, it all just happened. How’d you
find out?”

“Hell, I didn’t say ‘I found out.’ I said, ‘I think I know.’ ”

Exasperated, Danny shrugged and threw up his hands. “Bernard.”

“Okay, okay. My sister, Slink’s mother—heaven help her—owns a place down
in Florida. Down there where they shoot the astronauts off. Cape Carnival.
Coconut Beach, or something like that. Have to check through my papers. I
bought a lot next to hers but ain’t done nothing with it. She built a little
place and used to go down there on occasion. Shoot, I went a few times, like a
fool, but it’s too hot down there for me. She loved it though. Rented it out
for tourists and the like when she didn’t feel like going.”

“
Loved
it?”

“Yeah, she passed away a while back. Never did have good health, and that
low-down offspring of hers worryin’ her all the time didn’t help none.”

“I’m sorry, Bernard.”

Danny laid a hand on Bernard’s knee. “You have to find out where it is
exactly and tell me. I have to go after Caroline.”

“
You
. You can’t go after nobody the shape you’re in. Specially not
Slick, Slink, Sylvester, whatever he goes by. That boy’s mean. He’d eat you
up.”

“I know he’s tougher than me, Bernard, but I can’t sit here when he has
Caroline. And I wasn’t planning on fighting them. I thought since Slink seemed
to like me a little that I’d just ask him—”

“Get that notion outta yore head ‘cause Slickster ain’t ‘bout to let his
hostages just sashay off with you. Can you handle a gun?”

“A rifle, shotgun, just for hunting. I’m not an expert shot or nothing
though.”

“How ‘bout a pistol?”

Danny shook his head.

“That’s okay. Not that hard. Not in close, which I imagine you’ll have to
be, or likely to be anyway.”

Bernard stopped to choose his words. “I know you’re right tough, but I
doubt you could take Stinker even in a straight fight. And what about the bunch
he’s with? One of ‘ems big as a bear, and his buddy, if it’s who I think it is,
is a weird sucker, I’m telling you. Got the devil all through him, that one
does. Seen them eyes?” he said with a glance at Danny.

“Yeah, I know the odds and how bad they are, Bernard, but I have to get
Caroline. I’ll wait till they’re asleep or something. The cops might get her
killed, if they can find her at all. I’ll worry about what to do when I find
them.”

Bernard sighed. “Come on inside and let’s find something that suits you.”

Danny followed Bernard into the house and to a large walk-in closet in
one of the bedrooms.

Bernard moved some boxes, grabbed a hammer from one of them, and hit the
end of a section of hardwood floor. The other end raised a quarter inch.
Bernard hooked the hammer’s claw into it and pulled up the board, then the
adjacent boards. Bernard reached in the crevice and pulled up a blanket.

“Open that up and see what you think.”

Danny’s eyes shined with fascination after he untied the knot and the
blanket fell away. Rifles, shotguns, Soviet army AK-47 semiautomatics, other
weapons he’d never seen before.

“Reach down in there and pull the other one up,” Bernard said, smiling at
the look on Danny’s face.

Danny pulled up another blanket and opened it. “My gosh, how many pistols
are there?”

“Don’t know. Ain’t counted ‘em. Not lately anyhow. Here, stick this in
yore back pocket. It’ll be your best friend if the fightin’ gets close.”

Danny took the six-inch leather blackjack, heavy lead sewn into the last
two inches, and did as Bernard said without comment.

“What’s that,” Danny asked pointing to a canvas belt with what appeared
to be giant bullets.

“M-79 grenade launcher. Don’t think we’ll be needin’ that, or this,”
Bernard said, affectionately patting a plastic tube.”

“What do they do?”

“Well, you can figure for yourself what a grenade does, I reckon. Them
there shells in the belt go with it.” Bernard picked up what looked to be a
snug-nosed single barrel shotgun but with a huge bore. He snapped it open,
stuck the over-sized shell into the chamber and pretended to pull the trigger.
“Bam, no more cops,” he said then cackled for a moment before setting it down.

He touched the plastic tube. “This baby’s a LAWS rocket. Release this latch
here and the rest of the tube snaps out, then just mash this little rubber
thing on top and, whoosh, a rocket goes tearing out of the end of it. Hit a
tank just right, it’ll take it out. We could take out that whole damn police
station too if we wanted.”

“Think I’ll stick to finding Caroline for now, Bernard,” Danny said
searching Bernard’s eyes to make sure he wasn’t going on a tangent.

“Yeah, okay, kid, didn’t mean to scare you. You know how I am about cops
though, and I ain’t had this stuff out in a while, so . . . well, just got my
mind wandering.”

“You might need this too.” Bernard snapped open a .45 caliber derringer
and took out the bullets. “These bullets here will stop a fight right quick.”

Danny looked at the bullets lying in Bernard’s palm. The centers were
hollow.

“These are hollow-point bullets. When one hits the ‘intended,’ it expands.
The lead just flares out and rips right through flesh. Ain’t no amount of
patching up can save you when you been hit with one of these. It’s small enough
to hide in case it comes to that. Snuggle it behind yore belt buckle where
nobody’ll be likely to look. Don’t need but the two bullets because, if you’re
close enough to have to use it, there won’t be no time to reload, or need to
anyway. Not for the one who’s shot.” Bernard cackled again. “I hate to admit
it, but I’d dearly love to see fat boy get hit with one of these bullets. I
just plain ain’t never had no use for him and that devil he runs with, the
chalky one with red eyes. Nephew of mine’s bad enough, but I think he got
sorrier and sorrier the longer he hung ‘round with them two. Nah, that ain’t
true. Just like to think it is ‘cause we got the same blood—I’m damn sorry to
say.”

Danny thought he saw Bernard’s eyes mist up for just an instant then the
look was gone.

“Take that shotgun, the one what’s sawed off. It’ll hold five shells, and
we’ll load it with buckshot so you’ll have a bigger impact. Blow a man slap off
his feet, it will. You just fire and pull back on this part under the barrel.
That’ll load another shell in the chamber and you pull the trigger again. Keep
doing that over and over till you run out of shells, which I doubt you’ll do
before it’s all over. If it comes to that. Which one of them pistols suits your
fancy?”

Danny looked at the assortment of pistols. Big ones. Small ones. Long
barrels. Short barrels. He picked one up with a shiny barrel and ivory grip.
“Gosh, this is heavy.”

“Yeah, that’s a .45 automatic. Good gun ‘cept for one thing. Slim chance
it might jam and then you’d be in a world of trouble. How you like the feel of
this one?” Bernard said and handed Danny a smaller gun with a shorter barrel,
wooden grip, and cylinder for the bullets.