Dorothy Garlock - [Dolan Brothers] (12 page)

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Authors: With Hope

BOOK: Dorothy Garlock - [Dolan Brothers]
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“Ya stay outta Hardy’s bed. Hear? Ain’t nothin’ causes trouble faster’n two studs after the same bitch. When them two gets to fightin’ they’s like two ruttin’ bulls with no quit a’tall.”
“Could cause a killin’.” Fat was now scratching his privates. “Seen it happen a time or two. Recollect, Ma, when the Powell Perrys got to feudin’ over Minnie Mae’s girl?”
“I recollect. They never did figure out who got to her first. Reckon ever’ Perry on Mud Creek’s got to her by now.”
Fat was scratching now with both hands. Isabel kept her eyes on her feet.
“Ya got cooties down there, son? Might be ya ort to bathe yoreself with that lye soap or douse with coal oil.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll . . . go do it.”

 

Chapter Six
When Henry Ann told Johnny that Isabel had taken her belongings and left, he merely shrugged.
“I’m worried about what will happen to her at the Perrys.”
“She’ll either get a belly full of ’em and come back or fit right in and stay.”
“Aside from Pete, I haven’t seen any of them in years.”
“He’s a cut above the rest.”
“Lordy! I didn’t think he could be a cut above anyone.”
After the noon meal Johnny and Grant refilled their water jugs and prepared to go back to the field.
“Betcha a nickel I can beat you two rows out of three.” Grant was sharpening his hoe on the grinder.
“If I’m goin’ to bet, it’ll be for something more than a nickel.”
“Then name it.”
Grant grinned, and his blue eyes flashed toward Henry Ann where she stood on the porch. The thought came to her that he was really a very nice man and not at all bad-looking.
“If you lose, you’ll lance the boil under old Stanley’s tail. We’ll not be able to hitch him up till it’s healed.”
“Phew! I’ve got no fondness for boils . . . or mules, especially one as ornery as that one. He tried to bite me this morning. But I’ll go along with it. It’ll be one bet I’ll not lose.” Grant playfully slapped Johnny on the shoulder as if they had known each other for years
Henry Ann watched the two of them leave the yard. It was good that Johnny had someone like Grant to talk to. She could see a world of change in him. He seemed to have matured all of a sudden.
In the afternoon, while she was sitting on the front porch snapping green beans, Christopher Austin stopped by.
“Have a seat, Chris. I’ll get you a cool drink.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll just walk out to the well. I was passing by and thought maybe you didn’t know that there’s going to be an air show in town a week from Saturday. A couple of oil men are opening an office in town, and it’s their way of giving the folks a treat.”
“Just what Red Rock needs is another oil man.”
Henry Ann walked beside him to the well. Christopher’s pale hair was sun-streaked, his eyes a vivid green, and his skin deeply tanned. He had a stocky build, carrying most of his weight in his shoulders and chest.
“Yeah, that’s what I think, too. But this pair is bringing in the air show to open their office with a bang. Folks in town are pretty excited about it.”
“Daddy and I went to one in Ardmore a couple of summers ago.”
“The notice says that there’ll be two daredevil stunt pilots, a wing-walker, and parachute jumpers. They’ll give plane rides, too.”
“Not me. I can’t see myself in an airplane riding on air.”
“I’d like to try it,” he said wistfully.
“It’ll bring folks to town. That’s sure.”
“That and the dance marathon. I suppose you’ll enter,” Christopher teased.
“Oh, sure. You want to be my partner?” Henry Ann had known Christopher all her life and really liked him. He was a year or two older than she was. She just couldn’t understand why a man his age would let his mother run his life.
“Now wouldn’t you be surprised if I took you up on that?” He smiled one of his rare smiles and let the bucket down in the well. “Saw Karen in town. She said that if I stopped by to tell you she’d be out soon,” he said while waiting for the bucket to fill.
“Christopher! Did you go to town just to see Karen?”
“No. I saw her at the store.”
She knew better than that and didn’t know why she said it. He had such a frown on his face that she was sorry she had teased him. She thought briefly about asking him about Opal Hastings, but thought better of it. He had a hard enough time dealing with his mother without having to fend off her questions. But, seeing the stress on his face, she placed her hand on his arm.
“We’ve been friends for a long time, Chris. If ever you want to talk to anyone, I’m here.”
He looked at her a long while before he spoke. “I appreciate that, Henry Ann.”
“Are you . . . ah . . . interested in someone, Chris?”
“You might say that.”
“It’ll work out.”
“There’s not much hope of that.” There was a world of longing in his voice. He changed the subject quickly. “Oh, yes. We had another steer killed last night. I told the sheriff’s deputy. He’s usually in Red Rock.”
“Do you have any idea who is doing it? You’ve lost two. We lost one and the Whalens have lost one that we know of.”
“It isn’t a big operation. Someone’s killing for the meat. The talk is that it’s the folks down on Mud Creek, but there’s no proof yet.”
“Mr. Dolan saw tire tracks in our field. He’s watching for the tires that made them.”
“A tire track is a tire track as far as I know.”
“Most folks
know
the Perrys are bootlegging. I don’t understand why the sheriff doesn’t do something about it.”
“I’m just glad I’m not the sheriff. He’s got folks on his neck all the time to do something about something. How’s Johnny doing?”
“Fine. We hired a man to help him clean the cotton field. We need a good rain soon, or we’ll not make a decent crop.”
“I was afraid that you’d bitten off more than you could chew when you brought him back from the city.”
“He was a confused boy. He took Daddy’s death harder than I imagined he would. He’s really been a help to me these last few weeks.”
“If there’s anything I can do, you let me know. Hear?”
“I hear. And, Chris, the same goes for me.”
He knew that she was referring to Opal. It was comforting to know that someone he admired and respected was not horrified at the thought of his being in love with a girl with Opal’s background. Folks didn’t really know her. His mother would never accept her. She’d not even give her a chance.
“I appreciate that. I really do.” He put his arm across her shoulders and gave her a brotherly hug. “I’d better get crackin’, Henry Henry,” he teased to break the tension and headed for his car.
“’Bye, Chris. Stop by again.”
* * *
Emmajean had been exceptionally good—better than she’d been since she and Tom were married. For five days she had cooked and cleaned, cuddled and played with Jay, and even sung as she worked. She took Tom’s refusal to come to her bed without a fuss. She flirted with him and at times even made him laugh. Jay became comfortable with her, and, for the past two days, Tom had left him in his mother’s care for several hours at a time.
This morning when Tom left the house at sunrise, Jay was still sleeping in his crib. He loaded fence posts and wire in the wagon and headed for the back of the property to replace a downed fence so that he could turn his stock onto ungrazed grassland.
Before he realized it the sun was directly overhead, and he still had three more posts to set. He figured another hour or two would finish the job, so he continued to work. Finally he finished, threw his tools in the wagon bed, took up the reins, and headed back to the house. On the way, he began to feel uneasy. A sudden urgency caused him to cluck and snap the reins sharply on the mules’ backs, and the wagon jolted recklessly along the rutted path.
Tom drove into the lot behind the barn, unhitched the mule, and checked the water tank before he headed through the barn toward the house. As soon as he stepped out into the bright sunlight, he heard Emmajean’s shrill voice.
“Stop bawling, you ugly little beast!”
The sound of Jay sobbing reached him, and he began to run. He sprang up onto the porch and into the kitchen just as Emmajean’s palm connected with the child’s face so hard that his head hit the back of the chair.
“Stop that!” he shouted. “Are you crazy? He’s only a baby, for God’s sake.”
Jay, still wearing his nightgown, was tied to a chair with a dish towel. Tom untied the sobbing child and lifted him in his arms. The child screamed when he tried to hug him close.
“My God! What have you done to him?” Tom put his arm under the little legs and cradled his son. The little boy continued to scream in pain.
“What did you do to him?” Tom demanded again, as frightened as he’d ever been in his life.
“He wet the bed and—”
“And what? If you’ve injured him, I swear I’ll beat the living daylights out of you.” Jay straightened his little legs as if he were going into convulsions. His cries were cries of intense pain. Tom placed him on the bed and knelt beside him. The child turned on his side, his hand fastened in Tom’s shirt, his pleading eyes on his father’s face.
“What’s the matter, son? Where do you hurt?”
Tom pulled Jay’s gown up to his waist to expose his little bottom. Raised red welts crisscrossed his buttocks.
“You dammed bitch! You’ve whipped him with the razor strop.”
“He peed the bed! I told him what I’d do if he peed again. And I did it,” she said proudly. Still in her nightclothes, she stood hands on her hips, a look of pure hatred on her face.
“She’ll not whip you again, son. I’ll see to that.”
“I will if he needs it.”
“Get the hell out of here!” Tom shouted, then in a strangled voice, “Oh my God!”
Jay’s small hand had fluttered down toward his penis. Tom noticed for the first time that the little organ was swollen twice its normal size. The skin had turned a dark blue.
“Oh, my God!” It seemed to be all he could say. All he could see was the end of a string that had been tied tightly around the little penis. “You bitch! You bitch!” he shouted over the screams of his son. The string around the child’s male member was concealed by the swelling. There was no way of getting it off the thrashing child without cutting him, and he couldn’t depend on Emmajean to hold him.
“He peed. He peed, he peed,” Emmajean kept repeating.
Indescribable panic assailed him. He picked up his son. Emmajean stood in the doorway when he reached it.
“Where are you going?”
“Get out of my way!”
“No! You’re not taking him to
her
! He told me she’d given him the frog. I threw it in the stove—”
“Get out of my way,” he shouted again, and before he could stop himself, he struck her with his open hand.
Tom didn’t even wait for her to hit the floor. He ran out the door and to his car. He gently placed his son on the seat, started the car, and sped out of the yard. It seemed hours, but it could only have been minutes before he turned into the yard at the Henrys.
Thank God, Miss Henry was on the porch!
“Please help me,” he shouted as he got out and ran around to the other side to lift his screaming child into his arms.
Alarmed by the urgency of his shout, Henry Ann rushed out into the yard to meet him.
“Bring him in. What happened?” She turned to run ahead of him to hold open the door.
“The bitch tied a string around his little pecker. I can’t get it off.”
“In here.” Henry Ann led the way to the kitchen and hurriedly moved the caster set from the middle of the table. “What can I do?”
“Hold him as still as you can. I’ve got to cut the string . . . if I can find it.”
“Ah . . . baby . . .” she exclaimed when Tom pulled up the gown, and she could see the child’s grossly swollen male organ.
“I’ll get Daddy’s razor. It’s sharper,” she said as Tom took a jackknife from his pocket.
“Hurry. I don’t know how long it’s been on there.”
Seconds later, Henry Ann had one arm across the child’s legs, the other holding his upper body. She murmured softly to Jay and kept her eyes averted from what Tom was doing. It seemed an eternity before he spoke.
“It’s off. I nicked him,” Tom groaned as blood dripped onto the table. The child continued to scream. “It’ll hurt bad as the blood goes back in. Dear God, I don’t know what to do.”
“Get him to the doctor.”
“Go with me. Hold him.”
“Of course. Let’s go.”
Henry Ann didn’t even take the time to take off her apron. She hurried to the car and climbed in. Tom placed the child in her arms. Jay didn’t want to leave his daddy and clung to Tom’s shirt.

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