Unraveled (18 page)
Authors: Reavis Z. Wortham
It was full dark and we were buzzing with excitement about seeing ghosts. Uncle Cody and Norma Faye drove us to their house and we piled out in the yard. She laughed because for the first time in a long while, Uncle Cody seemed like his old self. “I didn't know I was married to a big kid.”
“Yes you did.” He pulled her close and gave her a kiss right there in the yard with us watching. “I bet you want to go, too.”
I wanted to turn away, but watching them was fun at the same time. She pushed him away and grinned. Even in the full moonlight, her red hair glowed. “You'd lose that bet, mister. You kids go play and try not to wake me up when you come home.”
He slapped her on the butt. “I might just do the opposite.” She raised an eyebrow and he laughed again. “See, that's what happens when you make them bedroom eyes at me.”
“Shush!” She punched him in the chest. “Behave yourself and y'all get out of here.”
Pepper saw me frowning and leaned close. “They're feeling sexy.”
“Huh?”
“They're talking about making whoopee.”
I knew what she meant, because I watched
The Dating Game
on TV. That embarrassed me something awful, and I was glad it was full dark, because my ears got hot and I knew Pepper would make fun of me for not understanding at first. Mark stood off to the side, staring into the darkness like he was looking for something.
Uncle Cody saved me. “Let's go see a ghost.”
“Norma Faye's not going with us?”
“Nope. She's gonna go back and visit with Miss Becky for a while and then go home. C'mon you outlaws.”
He led the way with a flashlight in one hand and a pump shotgun in the other. The light was off because the moon was so bright we could see just fine without it.
Pepper was right behind him, complaining. “I got sweat running in my eye and the skeeters are driving me nuts. Ain't there a better way?”
We cut across the yard and over a barbed-wire fence. “We could walk down the highway I guess, but then we'd come up on the wrong side of the tree. Remember, you can't see the limb first or it won't work.”
“It don't matter.” Mark's voice came from behind, as we walked in single file. “I like the woods at night.”
Uncle Cody followed a cow path that led across the small pasture. Deer used those paths too, and I limped along hoping we'd jump one and it'd scare Pepper. The trail wound around a thick locust bush and through a big patch of bull nettles until it led into the woods. The moonlight wasn't as bright under the trees, but we could still see just fine. Moldy leaves rustled underfoot and the smell of dampness rose in the air.
Something flew off a limb with a great, soft flapping of wings. “Owl,” Uncle Cody said.
He stopped at the bottom of a small gully. “Y'all feel that cold air?”
It was warm one minute, and then I walked through a pocket of cool air. “I did.”
“Me too.” Pepper's voice was loud in the still night. “What was it?”
“A ghost. They wander around, lost. Their spirits turn the air chilly, and you always know when you walk through one.”
I knew good and well he was trying to scare us, but I felt goosebumps prickle on my arms and neck just the same.
Mark cupped both hands around his mouth. “
Woooo
.”
Uncle Cody pointed in the silver moonlight. “Careful kids. It's a little boggy there, so watch when you jump across that little trickle.” He hopped to the other side and started back uphill.
We came out in another pasture and it was bright as day. The path wound around bushes and whatever the cows didn't want to walk over, or through. We made good time to the next line of trees. This time there wasn't a gully, but we had to cross another barbed-wire fence.
A truck went by on the highway, its headlights flickering through the trees. A cottontail bounced up to the right and ran away. It scared Pepper. “
Eek!
I've had about enough of this.”
Mark and I laughed to bleed off our own nervousness. The next pasture rose steep on the other side of the fencerow. Uncle Cody walked along with the shotgun on his shoulder like he was hunting quail. A whippoorwill called and other night birds peeped all around us.
He finally slowed when we reached the last barbed-wire fence. “All right guys, we cross this and the tree is right out there in the middle of the pasture.”
“I hope nothing don't get us,” I said in an eerie voice like Gorgon, the spooky guy that hosted
Nightmare
theater out of Dallas on Saturday nights. My foot ached a little and the bottom of my sock felt damp. I was afraid the hole was leaking blood, but it wasn't enough to stop me. I was having fun.
“Shut up. You're not spooking me.” Pepper's voice was strong, but it had a little waver to it and I realized she was nervous. She yelped when Mark goosed her from behind. “
Yeep!
Shit!” She slapped his shoulder. “Mark, dammit. I'd expect that out of Top.”
Uncle Cody slipped around me and grabbed her around the waist, snarling like a wolf. She jumped a good foot and fell into Mark, who almost went down with her. She caught her balance and thinking it was me, swelled up to give me a good butt chewing.
“Top, dammit!” She stopped all of a sudden when she saw it was Uncle Cody and gave him a push, laughing.
He stopped and spoke softly, like someone was close by and might hear him. “All right. Now listen, you have to do this the right way or it won't work. I saw a ghost hanging there when I did it. It was all pale, and bloated, and its tongue was sticking out.”
“What did you do?” I think Pepper was hoping he'd say he ran.
“Nothing at first. I saw it as clear as day, but then when its eyes opened, I ran like a turpentined cat.”
Her mouth opened in shock. “It
looked
at you?”
“Just like this.” Uncle Cody leaned close to her. When he figured he was close enough, he opened his eyes wide and dropped his jaw.
Pepper jumped back with a squeal. I swear I could see goosebumps on her bare arms.
Mark grabbed her and she hollered again. “Dammit. Y'all
stop
.”
Uncle Cody laughed. “All right. Who wants to see the ghost first?”
I almost raised my hand like I was in class. “Don't we all get to?”
“You might, if the first person stays right there and is really quiet and don't scream or holler or nothing.”
Pepper came up with an idea. “Rock, paper, scissors.”
Mark shrugged. “Sounds good to me. Top, call it.”
We gathered close and made fists. “Okay, one, two, three!”
We slapped our fists in our palms, and on three, each one of us made a shape.
Two rocks and a scissors. Mark was out.
Pepper and I did it again. This time I was paper and Pepper was scissors.
“You win.” Uncle Cody took her arm and positioned her in front of him. “All right. Forget the trail now. Walk straight through the grass and stop when you get to the tree. Don't peek around and then we'll perform the ceremony.
She led through the bitterweeds and tickle grass. The green smell of crushed weeds rose as we crossed the pasture. Pepper walked with both arms straight down at her sides like she was tied up or something. I think it was because she was scared, but she'd never admit it.
The tree stretched out overhead. It was one of the oldest on our part of the river. An image of angry men and wagons and horses came to mind as I thought about the hangings that had occurred right there in the past.
Heat lightning flickered and backlit the tree and made the scene even creepier. Uncle Cody winked at me in the cold moonlight. His voice was even softer so that only I could hear. “Let's have some fun with Pepper.”
I knew he had something up his sleeve and felt better. “Okay.”
“All right, girl. Put your hand against the tree.” She did, and he waved us forward. “Straight line. Boys, stay here. Pepper, close your eyes and back around the tree counterclockwise and slow so you won't fall, and recite, “
Oh living Tree of Death, help me see.
Spirit show yourself, spirit come to me!
”
“I can't remember all that shit.”
“Watch your language. I'll lead and y'all follow. Three times. One time each as you back around. Guys, close your eyes too.”
Uncle Cody stepped behind me and put his hand on my shoulder. “Pepper, keep your hand on the tree. Recite with me boys.”
We joined him, about half a beat behind.
“Oh living Tree of Death, help me see.
Spirit show yourself, spirit come to me!”
She made the first revolution slow, to be sure she didn't trip over any branches. “Shit!” she whispered.
“Pepper, dang it. Watch your mouth.”
“I stepped in cowshit,
again!”
We laughed and Uncle Cody urged her on. “It ain't the first or the last time. Now, do it again.”
This time our voices were stronger, drowning Pepper's. She was concentrating more on not falling than saying the words.
“Oh living Tree of Death, help me see.
Spirit show yourself, spirit come to me!”
I peeked and saw a slight breeze catch the eagle feather in her hair and flick up and out. She made the second time just fine.
“Oh living Tree of Death, help me see.
Spirit show yourself, spirit come to me!”
Uncle Cody was holding Pepper's shoulder to keep her still. “That's the third. Now, back around to the other side and stop when I tell you and look up at that big old limb above you. One more time, boys, to get her there.”
Oh living Tree of Death, help me see.
Spirit show yourself, spirit come to me!
Pepper stopped and we waited.
The night was still and I heard her breathing hard, like I do when I have asthma, but she was making a sound like
“huh, huh, huh.”
Before we could ask if she could see the ghost, she cut loose with a piercing shriek that I thought at first was fake to give us a thrill, but then realized it was the sound of sheer terror. Uncle Cody charged around me in a rush.
Mark and I followed and stopped to see Pepper with her back against the giant trunk, pointing at a still figure hanging from the limb. The hair on the back of my neck rose and I shivered. Me and Mark laughed for a second, thinking Uncle Cody had hung up a dummy.
Three long seconds passed.
The heat lightning flickered again, outlining the figure. Uncle Cody grabbed Pepper's arm and drug her toward him, burying her face in his chest. “Boys! Turn around now!”
We didn't move. It wasn't a dummy.
“Do it!”
It was a real person.
Pepper was sobbing in his chest and I got a look at Uncle Cody's face in the pale moonlight. It was something I never wanted to see again, just like the sight of that man hanging from the tree limb, his neck crooked, and his swollen tongue sticking out.
I heard Mark's shuddering breath and I puked on my shoes.
This was more entertaining than a carnival Funhouse. The Wraith checked the bindings on the terrified man and chuckled when he groaned. The poor guy had been in the wrong place at the wrong time with the right last name. His death would mean nothing in the long run, but it just might be the spark The Wraith was looking for. He was running out of time.
***
The headlights of half a dozen vehicles lit the area around the hanging tree.
The Parker lawmen, Deputy John Washington, and Justice of the Peace Buck Johnson watched two men cut the body down into the bed of a pickup backed under the great oak. They gently lowered the corpse onto a sheet and Buck climbed into the back with a hissing Coleman lantern.
Ned studied the darkness around their circle of light, absently rubbing the healed bullet wound in his ample stomach, and sick at the thought of still another murder. He worried about the effect on his kids who were back home. Fifteen years old and they'd seen more violence and killing than most men who'd been in the army.
A cluster of onlookers stood on the highway beside John's car. Its flashing lights were bright and sharp in the night. Ned realized the Wilson boys weren't there. That was unusual for the brothers, because they usually showed up at the first sign of trouble, especially on a bright night when they were most likely running the bottoms.
A voice cut through the knot of men. “Sheriff, y'all better come look at this.”
“Uh uh. There's been enough tramping around here. Pull the truck back to the gap and we'll talk there.” Ned waved toward the road. The pickup carefully backed from under the limb, following its tracks to disturb as little of the area as possible. The driver parked it on the shoulder.
After a cursory exam, Buck went through the dead man's pockets and came back to the cluster of lawmen. “John, would you hold this lantern so I can see?”
“Sure 'nough.” John took the wire handle and raised it high. The man's face was so swollen it was unrecognizeable.
Buck opened the wallet. An accordion of photographs flipped out as he located a driver's license. “It's Charlie Clay.”
“Ol' Charlie.” Ned's voice wavered. “He never done nothin' to nobody.”
“He was born a Clay.” Buck slipped the wallet into his back pocket.
Ned studied the gap in the fence where Cody had cut the wires to allow the vehicles into the pasture. John's car parked on the highway in front of the gate protected the soft dirt so they could take plaster casts of the tracks, if there were any. “How long do you figure he was hangin' there?”
“Not long after dark.”
Several farmers gathered around the lowered tailgate. The ambulance driver pointed with the beam of his flashlight. “Look, y'all. Somebody knocked him in the head first.”
“That explains how he got him out here in the pasture. His hands ain't even tied.”
Cody leaned forward. “You think he was dead when they hung him?”
“Naw. See, his tongue is sticking out and his face is swelled. A feller has to be alive for that to happen.” Buck lifted one arm. “He was tied at one time, though. His wrists are raw.”
“What's that?” Cody leaned close to the length of cut rope nearly two feet from the noose buried in the man's grotesquely swollen neck. He reached out a finger and touched a smear of white. Some stuck to his index finger and he rubbed it against his thumb. “Buck, is this some kind of grease?”
Cody held his hand out and Buck sniffed. “I don't know what it is.”
John shook his head. “I ain't never seen nothin' like it. You know much about him?”
Ned frowned. “Naw. As far as I know, he goes to work and comes home.”
“What does he do?”
“Machine shop.”
“Well, that might explain that grease, then. He married?”
“Yep. Couple of kids.” Ned pursed his lips. “Cody, you want to call his wife, or me?”
“It don't make no difference.”
They drifted toward John's car and heard Martha Wells over the Motorola. “Cody?”
John dropped into the seat and keyed the microphone. “This is Washington.”
She came back. “John. Glad you answered. Tell Ned there's a house afire in Arthur City.”
John looked up at Cody. “You get that?”
“Yep.”
“Martha, where's the house? Who's is it?”
“Don't know. It's about ten miles off 1499.”
“That'll take a while to get to.” Cody straightened to see Ned. He waved him over.
John keyed the mike. “Is the fire department on the way?”
“Yep, but you know how long it takes those boys to get together and go.”
Even in the best of circumstances, volunteer fire departments took a long time to arrive at the scene of fire. Those living at the ends of dirt roads could expect to wait even longer.
The radio squawked again. Deputy Anna Sloan's voice came through. “John, is Cody there with you?”
“Sure is. Right here with Ned.”
“Cody, Martha just got a report of another house fire four miles from the one I just told you about. It's Charlie Clay's. Hang on.”
“Goddamn it!” Ned started for his car. He stopped, realizing it wouldn't make any difference to Charlie, who was covered in a sheet in the back of the pickup. He rocked from side to side, anxious to do something, but no matter where he went, he'd most likely wind up standing around while houses burned and people lost everything they had.
The lawmen waited for a long moment. Ned's stomach sank in his chest at the next transmission. It was Martha again. “Y'all. Matt Clay was found cut up in the parking lot at the bowling alley.”
John rose. “It's gonna get worse. Cody, you realize this body is right here beside your house, don't you?”
“Yeah, and the dead man's house is burning down.” Ned shuffled from one foot to the other like a sprinter at the start of a race.
Cody lifted the microphone in John's car. “I'm gonna send some deputies to those houses and get some more people out on the roads.”
The back doors of the Travers and Williams Funeral Home ambulance slammed. Those nearby spoke softly, and their conversations faded out as the station wagon made a U-turn on the highway and accelerated.
Ned watched the taillights disappear into the darkness. John's radio squawked with information about the fire and murders. “All right. I'm going to them house fires.”
Cody hung the microphone on its bracket. “I got deputies hitting the road. We're gonna be all over this part of the county until this calms down.”
“I hope that's enough.”
Cody stood. “This feud's gotten out of hand.”
Ned shook his head. “Make no mistake about it. This ain't no feud. This is a war.”
***
Deputy Anna Sloan pulled off on the side of the dark road, careful not to get too far into the ditch. Several trucks were parked in the light from the burning house that was completely engulfed.
She met Jimmy Dale Warner, one of the first locals to come across Frank and Maggie's wreck. He was one of several volunteer firemen working the blaze. “We can't do nothing for thissun. It's too far gone.”
“Who does it belong to?”
“Charlie and Loretta Clay.”
“She in there?”
“Nope. It's empty. Someone said she's visiting their boy, Kenneth, in Sulphur Springs, but nobody knows where Charlie is.”
Standing in the middle of the road, Anna watched the men rolling the hose as they retreated from the heat. “I do.”
“Well, that's good that he ain't in there.”
She didn't pursue the conversation any further. “Are you going to the other fire?”
“There's another'n?”
“Heard it on the radio. It's about four or five miles down the road.”
Jimmy Dale thought for a moment. “There's only one house that close, and it belongs to some niggers.”
“So?”
“They're Mayfields to boot. We'd have to go back and fill up the pump truck. There ain't nothing we can do.”
Anna's chest hurt at the helplessness of it all. “These are people's houses. It's all they have.”
“Well, I know it. We can stand out here and watch them burn, or we can go get some more water and maybe help the next 'uns that ain't so far gone when we get there.”
She backed a couple of steps from the rising heat. “What do you mean?”
“This one was set, it looks like to me, and if a Mayfield house is afire too, it means there's likely to be more.”
The roof collapsed, sending a great cloud of sparks into the sky like fireworks. Shouts from the men filled the air as they rushed to back their trucks out of danger. Jimmy Dale and Anna retreated to her car and her stomach clenched at the thought that she could do nothing that night but patrol in the vain hope of catching the arsonists at work.
Her Motorola came alive. “Anna?”
She reached through the open door for the microphone. “Go ahead, Martha.”
“John and Cody are heading to town to see about Matt Clay. They don't think he's gonna make it. Ned's still tied up with the hanging. Cody said you need to go go back to 271 and look for any suspicious activity. Said y'all aren't doing any good going where trouble's already been.”
“On my way.” Her back tires spun on the warm oil road as she rushed toward still another murder scene with little hope of catching the killer. The thought kept running through her mind that Cody was right. Most law enforcement officials responded to incidents and did little to
prevent
the crimes from happening.
It wasn't the way she wanted to serve the people of Lamar County.
