From Pharaoh's Hand (7 page)

             
On any given day, a customer could park his boots beneath a booth at The Dinner Bell restaurant down behind the high school and be treated to the finest catfish dinner for miles around, including homemade chocolate pie with mounds of meringue. The locals would gather there daily to catch up on the gossip and catch a cup of coffee or unwind after their day. Most Saturdays, old Poke would be seated at a far table, chewing a wad of tobacco and reading old news from
The Buffalo River Review,
the weekly newspaper, while drinking his coffee and waiting for his poker buddies to join him. They would sit around and jaw about that week’s news or sporting events. Basketball was the favored sport. The Perry County Vikings had for years been top contenders in the region. They had finally gotten a football team to boot, as well as a new high school. Of these accomplishments they were most proud.

             
Today Poke and his buddies would just have to wonder what Catfish Bones was up to when he hadn’t shown up for dinner, which is what people around these parts called lunch. They might wonder if he was sick, or think maybe it was Inetha, who rarely ventured into town due to her lupus.  The men had a standing poker night on Thursday nights, and Catfish had left the table a winner this week; so it was also possible Catfish had made a casino run with his winnings. He always came back loaded. Bones had the best luck of anyone Poke knew.

             
He also knew that Catfish ran shipments of Mary Jane down Memphis way every now and then for extra cash. He hoped that Catfish had not gotten caught. It was unlikely, being as lucky as old Cat was. Still, Poke had to wonder.

He was just about out of his private stash himself. Maybe tonight he would crank up the boat and head down river to Catfish’s place and just see what was going on and replenish his stock. Usually Catfish would hear him coming down the river and meet him riverside out of sight of the house, so Inetha would not find out that he was selling pot. He was fairly certain she had no idea about the crop Catfish was growing on the backside of his property, or she would not have stood for it. Inetha was of the opinion that just because a person was poor, it did not make him white trash or dirty. How she and Catfish, or Phineas, as was his given name, fell in love he would never know.

              Catfish had told him that he met Inetha at a church box supper. He had bid on Inetha’s box because the whole town knew she made the best fried pies in Perry County. That was back when both of them were younger, back before Inetha’s health gave out, and Phineas quit attending church--back before he became the river rat drug runner that he was now. Poke remembered a time when Phineas Jones was a decent and honest farmer. But he guessed the claws of poverty had sunk in too deep. The lack of necessities and medical care and a solid roof that did not leak had turned Catfish cynical.  He knew Cat had wanted a family and a real home.  Hadn’t Cat made the remark that he hadn’t counted on Inetha letting him down this way?  That was pretty cold, even for Catfish.

But Poke didn’t realize that Catfish had other friends outside of Perry County. Catfish had never told him about meeting up with Frankie Carnel at the slots one night, and that Frankie, after learning that Catfish was from the stick, had eventually propositioned him about growing the weed and making a little spending money on the side.  What it seemed like at the time was the perfect opportunity to get out from under the bondage of poverty. He could get Inetha the medicine she needed. They could build a real home, drive decent vehicles, and retire comfortably. He would claim he had hit it big at Fitzgerald’s, and no one would be the wiser. He had not counted on getting involved in a robbery that would lead to murder and kidnapping a teenage runaway.  At this point, Catfish was all-in, and the river card was anybody’s guess.

              The old truck rattled as it hit a pothole here and there. They had traveled on the gravel side road for maybe ten minutes. Once they had cleared town, Catfish had allowed Beth back into her seat. She had finally summoned the courage to ask where they were headed, but he had ignored her request. She could not wait to get wherever it was; she had needed go the restroom ever since they had stopped at the river. Her head ached, and the nausea was still threatening to turn into vomiting. By this time she did not care where he was taking her; she was just thankful to be alive. She had a notion that if he really intended to kill her, he would have done so back at the river. So maybe she still had a chance to get away. She hoped and prayed that she did. Whatever was awaiting her back home would be a picnic compared to this.

             
They were traveling a gravel road that paralleled the Buffalo River. Beth could see the water below between the trees and beyond the valley on the driver’s side. They were climbing a steep embankment, and Catfish had to put the truck into low gear to make the hill. When they reached the top, the land flattened out somewhat, the trees parted, and before them lay the vast, indomitable kingdom of Phineas Jones.

Directly ahead Beth saw what appeared to be a mobile home, although it was so rough and weathered that it could easily be mistaken for abandoned. It was small, maybe fourteen feet by seventy, and a faded salmon color with faded black shutters. The underpinning had been torn off around most of the foundation, and a few chickens ran out from under while being chased by a mangy-looking, half-breed dog, who upon seeing Catfish’s truck pull in, ran to greet him with his tail wagging. The front storm door was missing, and concrete blocks served as steps.

              The wealth of the kingdom was on grand display, with old vehicle parts strewn about the yard, along with tires and tools and garbage. A fifty-five gallon blue drum sat beside the front door, and was full of briny water. A crude clothesline hung out beside the trailer and was strung between two trees. Beyond that lay the remains of a garden plot trodden down with the tomato sticks still sticking up from the ground, and rags hanging from the dead vines.  The grass was brown and patchy with muddy spots in odd places. Plastic covered the windows, but had been blown loose by the wind on the end and was flapping in the January wind. Set against the backdrop of the gray skies of winter, the scene was bleak and cheerless.

             
“Well, missy, I reckon we’re home. Now ain’t no use’n hollerin’. Ain’t nobody around for miles this time of year. I’m still good fer my promise of throwin’ you in the river yonder if you’ns don’t behave.”

             
Beth nodded. “I have to go really bad.”

     “
To yer right, inside the door, and first left. And no funny business.”

             
They made their way up the concrete steps. Beth entered slowly, not sure of what she might encounter. The stench hit her nostrils before she had gone two steps inside--the smell of animal waste, human waste, and stale smoke. Spoiled food and rotten garbage lay rotting in plastic bags. She felt her stomach lurch as she hurried down the hall. She flipped the switch for the bathroom and heaved into the toilet, which was black and yellowed and unspeakably nasty. When she was finished, she tried to flush, but nothing happened. She lifted the back off the toilet. No water was running. She turned the faucet in the sink; nothing came out.

             
Beth pulled back the nasty shower curtain and turned the knobs of the tub.  Nothing.  But there was a five gallon bucket half full of the briny water. She lifted it out of the tub and poured it into the back of the toilet and flushed. 

             
Elizabeth’s mind was reeling. How could a human live in these conditions? She felt dirty and grimy, and now she had to drip dry. There wasn’t even toilet paper.  She longed for a shower and clean clothes, and then she remembered that she was wearing the only clean outfit she had brought with her. Her dirty clothes were in the truck. She cleaned up the best she could and went back to the living room.  “I need clean clothes.”

             
              “So skeered you wet your pants, eh?  Tomorrow you can haul some river water up here to wash your dirty clothes. I’ll make a fire and heat some water in the kettle. Then you can scrub ‘em and hang ‘em on the line to dry. And unless you’re fond of doin’ the laundry that a way, I suggest you learn to wear ‘em a few days. You must of left home in a hurry. And where’d you get all this here cash?  You get caught stealin’?”

             
“I’m not a thief. Or a liar and kidnapper,” she spat back. “What are you going to do with me, just keep me out here in the wilderness to be some kind of slave?”

             
              “I ain’t decided jest yet. You best be watchin’ that sharp tongue. Old Catfish might jest cut it out with this here knife.” He took the stainless steel knife off the bar, unfolded it, and pointed it toward her. “This here will skin a buck quicker than you can say ‘Jack Rabbit.’”

             
Beth’s eyes widened. She bit her lip, and then the tears began to form and roll down her cheeks. The shock of the last two days began to spill over and out from her, and her shoulders shook in heaving sobs.

             
“Oh God… God,” she cried hysterically. Then she began coughing violent, heaving coughs, as if she were going to throw up again. She could not get her breath.

    
A look of shock crossed Catfish’s face, unnoticed by Beth. He laid the knife on the counter and crossed to where she was. He started to hug her, and then backed off, not knowing exactly what to do with his hands. He put one hand on her shoulder.

             
“Listen here, missy. Stop crying. Settle down. No use makin’ yerself sick again. You act real good. Just settle down. Once they stop lookin’ for you and the heat is off, then maybe you can go wherever it is you was a headed. Okay?”

          “
Okay.” Beth mumbled. Catfish took a dirty handkerchief from his back jean pocket and held it out to her. She took it, hesitated slightly, then dried her face. “Can I please just have a drink?”

             
“What you want, a beer? Naw, of course not.  I got a Coke.   I got a little bit of drinking water left...hafta get more tomorrow down at the store.  That dern well man couldn’t get through the limestone. Wanted six thousand dollars to haul his fancy equipment all the way out here. I figgered when I got me the money to build the new house, I’d take care of getting’ a well dug then. No sense in runnin’ a line to this heap of metal.”

    
Her crying had tapered to light sniffling at this point as she sipped from the can of off-brand cola he had handed her. Beth looked around her in disgust.

             
              “Sit down. Youn’s been through a lot.” 

     “
Why did you take me?” she asked, trying to sound calm as she moved piles old newspaper out of a dumpy green stained recliner.

          “
Well, see, here’s the thing,” Catfish began. “They had this here Amber alert out on the radio. That’s how I figured out who you was. And about two miles before we got into Jackson, right along where I planned to let you out, there was a bunch of State troopers on the other side of the Interstate checking trucks and cars. I had no choice but to roll on through, and the same was happening when I got to the other side of town. Luckily, it was right past the exit I turned off on. I could see the roadblock up ahead of the Law Road exit. By that time, I had done decided that you was on the run for something bad. I just figured it would be easier for you to hide if I brought you up here. You
was
runnin’ and hidin, warn’t you?”

             
She did not want to tell him the truth. If he found out she was pregnant, he might go berserk and kill her. So she lied.

     “
I...uh...was running away to see my boyfriend. He got sent to Memphis to a private military prep school. My parents hated him.  I was going to come home after a few days.”

           “
Uh-huh. Sneakin’ off to see that there young buck done caused you a heap o’ trouble, missy.”

             
If you only knew,
she thought, but nodded.

             
“Yore name’s Eliza Beth ain’t it?”

     “
Elizabeth,” she answered. “It’s Elizabeth.”

          “
That’s what I said.”  And then he said, “Liza,” turning it over in his mind as he rubbed the knife up and down against his thigh. “I like that. I reckon that’ll do, Liza.”

     “
I bet my mom and dad are out of their minds with worry right now...”

             
“Didn’t think of that did ya? All you was studyin’ was getting’ with that young buck.”

     “
No, at the time, I just wanted out.”

             
“Well I reckon we all feel that a way at times. Been there myself. Just take a look around at my world. You probably had it real good back there in Jackson, now didn’t ya?”

    “
Yeah, I guess I did. Can I have something to eat?”

             
“Pickled baloney and Saltines.  Take it or leave it.  Get up and fix us a bite. You might as well earn yer keep. Crackers is on the table. Baloney in the fridge.”  Beth just stared at him. 
Is this coot for real?