Unraveled (19 page)

Chapter Thirty-nine

It's funny, but after everything we'd seen in the past few years, the sight of a dead man hanging from a tree limb didn't affect us the way you'd expect, other than me puking my guts out for the fourth time that day. Oh it was bad, that's for sure, and any other kids than us might have troubles down the road, but it seemed at the time that we lived in a swarm of bad stuff and we'd grown calluses to handle it.

Uncle James came to carry Pepper home. She bucked and snorted about it, but he got that new look in his eye that Grandpa said came from their troubles in Arizona. Pepper saw it and settled down right quick.

Grandpa left after he dropped us off at the house. Mark and I talked after we went to bed. The lights were out and we kept it low so Miss Becky wouldn't hear.

His voice was low in the darkness. “I wish Pepper hadn't seen that.”

“I wish none of us had.”

“I feel like I've brought bad spirits to this house again.”

“Hey, Tonto. Don't start feeling that way. It seems like we always live in a cyclone. Since you left there've been gangsters and everything else.”

His voice made me think he was grinning. “Watch that Lone Ranger crap. I'll get a medicine man after you.”

“Pepper'll be fine. She's tougher than either one of us.”

“She was crying pretty hard.”

“Yep, but she wasn't cussin' like she used to. She's changed since she run off to California.”

“She seems the same to me.”

“Well, she's not. Her cussin' ain't as bad, and she don't get mad like she did, neither. Now she pretty much takes things as they come and goes on about her business.”

“That might not be good. She's packing it down instead of dealing with it.”

I started to answer, but didn't. I knew about packing things down. It was easier than talking about what plagued us. I needed to change the channel pretty quick, or the pain welling up in my chest might get free. I didn't want that right then.

“Hey, talkin' about Tonto, did you hear the one about the Lone Ranger who went in the saloon?”

Mark was quiet for a minute. “No. I guess you're gonna tell me.”

“Yep. The Lone Ranger and Tonto were at the bar when a cowboy runs in and hollers, ‘Whose white horse it that outside?'”

“The Lone Ranger says, ‘It's mine. Why?'

“The cowboy says, ‘Well, it's hot out there and he don't look too good.'

“They run outside and Silver's in bad shape in the sun. The Lone Ranger hollers at Tonto to get his turkey wing fan and cool Silver down. Tonto gets it out of his saddlebag and starts fanning. The Lone Ranger sees it might be doing some good and tells Tonto to run in circles around the horse and fan while he goes back in the saloon to get a bucket for water. Tonto starts running and fanning as fast as he can. While the Ranger's inside, another cowboy walks in and wants to know who owns the white horse. The Lone Ranger says, ‘That's mine,' and the cowboy says ‘Well, did you know you left your Injun running?'

“Get it. Engine running. Injun?”

Mark threw his pillow at me and dove over to get me in a headlock. We rasseled for a minute until Miss Becky hollered at us to stop and go to sleep.

We laid there in the dark, giggling and then it got quiet. A whippoorwill called in the dark and it sounded peaceful.

Mark's quiet voice came from the other bed. “Hey.”

“What?”

“I know you're half Indian, but full-blood Choctaw is different. Our people were one of the Five Civilized Tribes. We had a written language, and a Bible, and lived in houses and had land.” He was quiet for a long minute. “Sometimes those jokes like that hit a little too close to home. You know what I mean?”

I felt bad. “I didn't mean nothing.”

We laid there quiet for a minute until his voice came again. “Hey.”

“What?”

“You know why Kennedy is so hot to get to the moon?”

“No. Why?”

“'cause he thinks Indians have land up there.”

I had to think about that a minute, and then got tickled. I knew it was his way of saying I'd hurt his feelings, but everything was all right. I decided then and there I wouldn't tell Indian jokes anymore.

I finally dropped off and dreamed all that night about running from a dark man who was bathed in colored lights and there were people screaming and laughing and then he chased me into a house and the halls were long and chopped up into a maze and I couldn't get away and something was making a cawing noise that finally woke me up. When I opened my eyes, it was nothing but crows greeting the day outside my window.

Chapter Forty

After a breakfast of three cold boiled eggs, The Wraith grunted, braced his feet and applied so much pressure with both scarred and powerful hands that his spine popped. The rusted nut screeched loose. He quickly disassembled the big engine, his mind not on the task at hand, but the coming night's work. By now, he should have pushed enough Clay and Mayfield buttons to start World War III, but it hadn't exploded the way he wanted, and Cody Parker was still above suspicion for the most part. He wanted more. He wanted them all to pay.

***

The sun was up when Deputy Anna Sloan and Constable Ned Parker left the smoldering remains of the house fire in Tigertown and drove to Powderly to find Royal Clay. He'd heard the leader of the clan had been seen loafing with his cousins out front of the Powderly school and Ned intended to have words with him.

The Wilson boys showed up earlier that night and though they weren't volunteers with the local fire department, they threw in to help. Ned arranged for Jimmy Foxx to drive his car to the house when they finished so he could ride with Anna.

She steered down the winding country road. “We don't have anything to arrest Royal for. We can't prove he had anything to do with any of this.”

“You're right about that, but every time anything happens from now on, I'm gonna be right there in his face. Either he'll back down, or get mad enough to try and do something about it. I believe he's the spark on the Clay side and I intend to put him out, or cause him to flare up at me. Royal has a short fuse, and when he goes off, I'll slap the cuffs on his ass and take him to jail.”

“Neither one of us is in any kind of shape to get into an altercation with him.”

“By that I reckon you mean get in a fight. If I thought that was gonna happen, I'd-a brought John with me.”

She stifled a grin. “You don't think I can handle myself.”

His eyes cut sideways. “You do all right, but these boys are mean and they're apt to get meaner.”

“Why?”

“Because I'm gonna be a tick where the sun don't shine. Every time they look up, they're gonna see me. I'll be there when they go to the outhouse, and in the churchyard every time they come out from services.”

“Not by yourself. I'll be there with you.”

“Good. John's doing the same thing with some of the Mayfields. We're gonna shake something loose.”

Deputy Sloan turned on the highway and accelerated to the north. “So this is our next move?”

“For the time being. After we finish here, we're going home to get some sleep. Then this afternoon we're gonna find some Clays and start all over.”

“He'll claim we're harassing them.”

“What does that mean?”

Her eyes crinkled in amusement. “That's what the kids say if they think somebody's picking on them.”

“They'll be right.”

Anna tapped the wheel with her fingertips. “And John's doing the same thing?”

“Yep. These people are going to see us in their sleep before it's over with.”

They came in sight of the WPA gym and saw three vehicles clustered in the dirt parking lot. Deputy Sloan hit her lights and slowed to a stop.

Nine men were gathered around Royal Clay who was sitting on his open tailgate. They included the kinfolk Ned and John saw when they were fishing the rat from Wes' well. Andy, Martin, Wilbur, and the youngest, Cecil, looked as if they wanted to bolt when Anna killed her engine.

Royal was in jeans and a dingy white tee shirt with a pack of cigarettes rolled up in the left sleeve. His brow furrowed when Ned stepped out of the car. “What's the matter, constable?”

“Got a report of loiterin'.”

“Here in the school yard? Somebody called you on
that?”

Instead of answering the question, Ned closed the distance, watching the men and their hands. He noted they all needed a shave, something unusual in a community that leaned toward a razor every morning. They also smelled like smoke, which was often the case out in the country. “What're you boys doing out here so early? Y'all been up all night?”

Royal puffed up like a banty rooster at the question. “We're fixin' to go fishing.”

“Why're you
here?”

“This was the best place to meet up.”

“I don't see no fishing poles.”

Anna craned her neck to look in the bed of the nearest truck. “None in here, neither.”

Royal grinned and flipped the pack from his sleeve. He shook one loose and lipped it out. “Well, now that you're here, sweetheart, I might have another suggestion that sounds better'n fishin'.”

She grinned back, stuck out her chest even more, and closed the distance until she was almost standing between his spread knees. “I have one, too.” Her voice was low, sultry.

Royal removed the unlit cigarette from his lips and leaned closer, resting his right hand on the swell of her hip below her gunbelt. “Do tell.”

He was unable to speak for the next few moments when the sap that had been in her back pocket cracked against the inside his knee. When Royal yelped, Anna snatched his collar, yanking him off the tailgate and face-first into the dirt. The others snapped to attention.

“Easy boys.” Ned's voice was soft and steady. “That gal didn't get much sleep last night and she's feelin' fretful.”

Royal spat grit from his teeth and groaned into the dirt. Ned addressed Andy, who was standing closest. “Where were y'all going fishin' before Royal fell off the tailgate and hurt his knee?”

“Uh, the river.”

“Whereabouts on the river?”

“Uh, well, he, uh, ain't told us yet.”

“Don't you boys need poles and bait?”

“That's what we was talkin' about when y'all rolled up.”

Anna knelt to help Royal to his feet. “That hurts, I know. I've fell and hurt my knee the same way. It's liable to swell up, so if I was you, I'd stay off it for a day or two.” She picked up his cigarette and stuck it behind his ear.

Gritting his teeth, Royal Clay stood and propped himself against the tailgate. “Y'all ain't got no call to come around here doing that.”

“Royal, you boys need to listen to me.” Ned spoke to them as if they were visiting at the store. “I believe one or more of y'all were involved in a lynching and a few incidents of arson last night.”

“You can't prove nothing.” Wilbur said.

“That's mighty interesting.”

“What?”

“You didn't act surprised, ner asked who it was. All you want to do is argue about proof. Most people'd say they didn't do it.”

Wilbur shrugged. “Well, like I said, you can't prove nothing one way or another.”

“Might be able to. We got some plaster casts of the tread on the truck they used to drive him out to the tree and other evidence I'm not inclined to tell you about right now. Now y'all listen to me. This bullshit with the Mayfields is gonna stop.”

“No one here knows nothin' about that.” Royal doubled over the tailgate, supporting the weight on his stomach. He rubbed his knee as if that would take away the pain. “For all you know, we was camped out, or up at the hospital to set with Matt.”

“He wasn't talking to you, Royal honey.” Anna squeezed his shoulder as if he was a little kid who'd fallen and scratched his knee. “You need to be quiet.”

Ned watched Cecil. He'd been looking everywhere but at nothing. “Nobody has to tell me right now. You can call the house with the information if you want, or come see me.”

Cecil Clay chewed a lip. His tie-dyed shirt was faded, and the big bell bottoms on his jeans were frayed at the heels from being walked on. “We don't know a thing. You pigs ought to be working on how Uncle Matt got cut up last night instead of harassing us.”

Cecil was the youngest, and spent a lot of time hanging out with radical college kids who were marching against the war, the police, and anything else that took their fancy.

Genuinely surprised, Ned relied on Anna for an explanation. “Pigs?”

“That's a new city term the hippies are using for policemen.”

Disgusted, Ned drew a deep sigh. “That's the second time in fifteen minutes I heard that word, harassment. And now I'm a pig? Son, you better learn some manners before your elders take you out behind the barn.”

“Look, get off of that.” Cecil moved slightly closer to Andy Clay, as if for protection. “We heard Uncle Matt's guts was stickin' through his shirt.”

“But nobody saw a Mayfield do it?”

Andy rubbed the stubble on his chin. “No. The guy slashed him between parked cars. You can bet it was a Mayfield, though, blending in the dark and all.”

“I need proof.”

“You won't do anything nohow.”

“I'm-a doin' something now, Andy.”

“Yeah, I call it harassment, and we don't need that from the local pigs.” Cecil seemed to like spouting off memorized rhetoric.

“Call it what you want, Cecil. Give me whoever's causing from your side and I'll be gone.”

“Them niggers is the ones squared off with
us
.”

“I don't want to hear that word no more. I want the name of them that burned down Curtis Mayfield's house last night, too.”

The exchange of glances told Ned there were a lot more folks involved than he thought. “We need to end this thing before some women or kids get killed. The truth of the matter is that if I had my druthers, y'all could kill one another all you want, if you was out of my county. But I don't. And you're in my pocket and I have to do something about it.”

Anna spoke up. “Royal, honey. You like what you see when you look at me?”

He frowned, but kept both eyes on his knee.

“Well, you don't have to answer, but know this. From now on, every time you walk outside, you're gonna see me within an hour, or Ned. I hope you enjoy our company.”

Ned tilted his hat back. “Well, that's about it, boys. C'mon, Anna. Let's go get some breakfast, and then we'll drop by one of these boys' houses after we eat.”

She gave them a brilliant smile. “Sounds like a good idea. Y'all better hope I get in a little nap before we come back, though. I'm starting to get the cramps and none of y'all want to irritate me after that.”

“We won't be there.” Andy set his jaw. “We're going fishing, like we said.”

“Well then, you'll have a mess of fish to fry when we show up. Tell your wives that we'll stay for dinner, too, if we's to be asked.” Ned turned on his heel and went back to the car. Anna held back, moving slower so he could get to the door first. “Bye.”

Ned watched her walk to the driver's side as the sullen group glared in silence. Royal glowered from under bushy eyebrows but remained rooted to his spot. Ned slammed his door as she started the engine. “Good job with that sap. Now, let's go get some breakfast.”

“I need to make some stops this evening, then I can make a couple of calls on a Clay or two.”

Ned gave her a quick pat on the shoulder and rested his arm on the seat back. “I believe you're gonna work out just fine and dandy.”

The corners of Anna's mouth twitched. “Are we really going to their houses?”

“Yep. One at a time. All day long. They're gonna think we're traveling preachers looking for someplace to eat before this is over.”

She threw her head back and laughed, then steered toward Chisum and Frenchie's café.