Long Holler Road - A Dark Southern Thriller (28 page)

  I have to go now, but please, please, never tell any one about anything in this letter. I don’t want our mother hurt in any way. It would hurt so many people if you ever breathed a word of this to anyone. I would give anything if I had been able to have spared you any pain, but I wasn’t. I’m sorry.

Love always,

Madge

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  There wasn’t much discussion of psychiatric therapy in Long Hollow Alabama in 1974. I think it would be a safe wager to say ninety-five percent of the people had no idea what the term even meant. I had a vague idea of what it was, but had a feeling I was going to become a lot more familiar with it. On top of all the things I’d witnessed in the past two months, now I had the knowledge that I’d had sexual relations with my half-sister. Granted, I had no knowledge of our relationship at the time, and I was restrained and in fear of losing my life, but that didn’t make me feel any better about it. There would probably be chapters written about me in whatever kind of periodical journals or publications psychiatrists receive. Hell, I’d probably wind up in college textbooks in several different sections on various subjects. My half-sister, besides being the one I had lost my virginity to, was also a serial killer with a penchant for torturing her victims in ways any sane person could never imagine.

  I quickly pulled out a penny box of matches and struck one, tilting it at an angle for the flame to catch the stem. I pulled out each sheet of the voluminous letter my dear sister had written me one at a time and burned them individually, lighting one off the other. I made sure that not even the tiniest scrap was left for any human being to ever see. I knew I needed to be going. It had taken me a long time to read the letter. I couldn’t imagine how Madge had found time to write it, unless she’d started it and kept it hidden from Carl sometime before our escape.

  Daddy would be worried, but I had to sit back down for a minute on the old rusty truck and try to digest what I had just read. As hard as I tried I couldn’t bring myself to hate Madge. Maybe it was because we shared the same blood or maybe it was because I knew she was sick. And she did save my life. If there was anybody that deserved being hated for the things they had done at that point in my life, Madge and Carl topped the list. I had no problem hating Carl, but Madge was different. Momma always said no matter how bad things are, they could always be worse and I truly believed that. I could be dead now. Madge was the reason I wasn’t dead.

  I got up and started walking deeper into the woods, toward the creek. I was going to put this behind me and get on with my life no matter what. Things could be worse. I started saying this over and over in my head. 

  As I neared the creek, I had begun keeping rhythm with my mantra with each step I took. I could hear the water running, making less noise than it had earlier in the summer because of the dry weather. Instead of a constant rumble it was now more like an occasional tinkle. Like the distant sound of broken glass being moved around on a floor. I wasn’t sure if it was the sound of the creek or my imagination from the mantra I was running through my mind that I had now turned into a little song, but I could have sworn I heard someone walking behind me. I turned around quickly, but didn’t see anything. I dismissed it as probably a bird or a squirrel moving around in the trees. I turned back and kept heading in the direction of the creek, not really knowing why I was even going there. I needed to be headed home.

  I could see the creek now. The morning sun was making little polka dots on the water as it filtered through the thick leaves of the sycamore trees.

I heard the sound again but didn’t turn around this time. I walked all the way to the water’s edge, bent down and stuck my hand in the water, letting it run through my fingers. It was so peaceful here, with the wind faintly whispering through the trees and the soft singing of the water as if it were trying to harmonize with the breeze.

  “Turn around, George.” I was squatting down on my haunches and almost fell in the water, I was so startled by the voice. I instinctively jerked my head around and saw Madge standing there smiling as if she were seeing an old friend for the first time in years. The only noticeable difference being that you don’t greet an old friend by pointing a gun at them.

  “H…hello, Madge,” I answered, looking past her to see if she was alone.  “I…I thought you’d be long gone by now.”

  She didn’t move an inch, but just stood there smiling at me and tilting her head like a dog sometimes will when they hear a strange noise. She had her hair pulled up and there were a few lose strands hanging loose and blowing across her face. I thought she looked really pretty that way. She was holding the gun in such a way that it looked like she might drop it at any time.

Then, as if someone had shaken her out of a trance, she stiffened up and got a tighter grip on the pistol.

  “Surely you’re not surprised, George. I couldn’t leave without you. You’re one of the three people on earth I love. How is mother today?”

  “Ah….she, she’s fine Madge. Ah….yeah, she was just asking about you this morning. She said she really missed you and wanted to see you real bad. W….we’ll go and see her right now, if you want to.” I was stalling any way I could, trying to determine what she had on her mind. Whatever it was, it didn’t look beneficial for me.

  “No, I don’t want to see her now. I’m afraid she might be mad at me because I’ve stayed away from home so long.”

  “Ahhh, no, Madge. Momma would never be mad at you. She loves you too much.”

  “Then why did she leave me then, George? If she loved me so much, why did she leave me with those other people who tried to buy my love with toys and cars and stuff? I was no different than all those little dogs they kept around. Just a pet. I’d take them to an old abandoned house and kill the little furry bastards. My adopted parents were so stupid, they’d just go buy another one, as if there was something wrong with the old one and I’d somehow love the new one. I hate stupid people, George.”

  “Well, you don’t hate me Madge, and I’m pretty stupid. You should see some of the things…..”

  “Don’t say that, George,” she yelled like a mother scolding her child. “You’re smart. I knew that the first day we talked in my yard. Besides, you’re my brother and nobody with the same blood I have could be stupid.”

  “What about Jake Bullard?” I asked her, clenching my teeth expecting her to shoot me right then and there.

  “I hate his guts, but he’s not stupid. He’s a smart man. He’s managed to fool people all his life.”

  I was looking in every direction, trying to come up with a means of escape. I had the creek at my back and a steep bank in front of me. It didn’t look good. My only chance was to keep her talking as long as I could. This was one time I wish I had been better at small talk.

  “Well, do you want to go see Momma now?” I asked her.

  “I’m afraid we can’t do that, George.”

  “Why not? We can be there in fifteen minutes.”

  “Because you have to come with me. Carl said if I truly loved you, I wouldn’t leave you in such a place as this, always having to carry around the burden of the things you’ve seen.”

  I didn’t have a clue what Madge had meant by her last statement and didn’t really care. What I’d heard was that I had to come with her, which meant I wasn’t going to die on the banks of Big Wills Creek. It also meant I would be moving through the woods and me and Glenn had spent about as much time in the woods as we had in our houses.

  “Okay, Madge. If you want me to, I’ll come with you. But we’d better get movin’ ’cause the cops are lookin’ for you and Carl. We’d better hurry.”

  I started climbing up the bank, watching Madge closely, not wanting to make any sudden moves that would cause her to pull that trigger. Madge watched me as if she had no concern of me trying anything to get away. I think she may have really believed I was going with her willingly. She wasn’t  taking any chances, though, because she still had the pistol pointed right at my head. She let me get in front of her a few steps and started following, watching her step to make sure she didn’t trip on any of the undergrowth in the thick patch of forest.

  My mind was racing, trying to think of something I could do. If only she’d trip over an old rotten log or some of the big clumps of saw briars. I took her through the thickest patches I could find without arousing suspicion. I had no idea where her van or whatever she was driving was parked, but she never told me to change directions. Then it hit me. She was turned around. I doubted she had ever been in these woods even though her house was not much more than a mile away. I don’t mean she was hopelessly lost. The copse of woods wasn’t that big and she could eventually find her way out, but as far as direction, she didn’t know which way was which.

  Looking at some of the younger growth trees, I got an idea. It came from experience because it had happened to me so many times, that it got to where I insisted that I lead the way when me and Glenn were walking single file in thick woods. I began looking for a young hickory or oak tree with low braches that were green and skinny. I spotted one a few feet ahead. It was an oak instead of a hickory, but it would do if I could time it right.

  I quickened my pace enough to put a few extra paces between me and Madge, trying to judge the right distance I would need. I grabbed the branch and walked forward quickly, stretching it as far as I could, then let it go. I heard Madge let out a cry as it struck her in the right cheek and one of the small branches poked her in the eye. I moved quickly as she put her hand to her face. The limb had snapped back on her like it was made of rubber and taken her by surprise, besides the fact that it stung like hell. She was partially bent over, rubbing her eye as I grabbed the short barrel of the automatic pistol. She recovered quickly when she realized I had a hold on the gun. She twisted her body sideways and instinctively pulled the hand with the pistol in toward her body. I held on with a vice like grip, knowing this would be my only chance.              

  The gun went off, and thank God my hand was not on the end of the barrel. Wood chips flew from a nearby tree as the bullet struck it. I now had both hands on the pistol and so did Madge. Our arms were above our heads and she was kicking my shins furiously, trying everything she could to make me let go. I moved in and put my hip in the small of her back, then twisted my body and threw her to the ground. This caused both of us to lose our grip on the gun. I saw where it landed a few feet away.

  Madge was punching, clawing and kicking, trying to push me away and get her hands back on the pistol. Madge could fight like a wildcat and was amazingly strong for a woman that probably didn’t weigh more than a hundred and twenty pounds. We reached the pistol at the same time and this time I had managed to grab the butt end. I felt the trigger with the tip of my middle finger. I thought if I could put enough pressure on the trigger to pull it, the shot might make her let go. I kept trying to work my finger further up on the trigger. Suddenly, Madge rolled over in front of me, pulling the gun with both hands. She was right in front of the barrel just as I managed to squeeze the trigger. The gun fired and I heard Madge scream. She let go of the gun and rolled over, clutching her chest with both arms.

  Madge was making a sound like a little puppy whining as I rolled her over on her back. She had a look of terror in her eyes and her mouth was moving rapidly, as if she were trying to speak but no sound would pass her lips. I looked deeply into her eyes that were beginning to lose the terrified look and take on more of a glazed one. A look like dull, opaque glass. I started to put my head on her chest to see if she was breathing or if I could hear a heartbeat, but it was too bloody. Instead, I put my index finger under her nostrils to see if I could feel air. Nothing. I looked back at her eyes and I could tell there was no more life inside. I sat beside her body for a minute, trying to find a way to hate her. The feeling wouldn’t come. I picked up her hand and looked at her painted nails. Such beautiful and delicate hands. It was hard to believe all the things they had done.

  I dropped her lifeless hand and stood up, sticking the pistol down in the waistband of my pants. Then I started walking toward the edge of the woods, back in the direction of Long Hollow Road.
Things could be worse, things could be worse, things could be worse
…….  

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Long Holler Road.
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