Nobody Knows Your Secret (18 page)

T
he day dawned
with the bright sun winking over the ridges of the eastern slopes. Hadley and Skip arrived at the wildlife center almost simultaneously. Hadley got out of her car and walked over to Skip’s truck as he was stepping down on the running board. She ruffled his hair. It had been an endearment between them since he was a toddler. He smiled.

“Hey, did you recover from your tumble down the stairs?” he asked.

“Guess your mom filled you in on that little accident,” Hadley said. “Yes, I finally got to where I could walk upright instead of bent over looking at my knees. I guess your old aunt ain’t as spry as she used to be. Was a time, believe it or not, I would have bounced down those steps and landed on my feet like Onus. Come on. Let’s get buzzed in so we can get that bird back to flying free instead of lounging around in its pen. I suspect she is raring to go.”

“When I brought her in, I didn’t know if she was going to make it or not,” Skip said. “She looked so frail and scared. I’m so glad the center was here to help her, Auntie H.”

Ruth greeted them as they walked into the shelter’s main building.

“Good morning, you two. I’m glad to see you both. It looks like it is going to be a perfect day for a release. Hadley told me you will be letting us release the red tail on your land, Skip. I think she will be happy. Maybe she will nest there in the spring.”

“I hope so,” said Skip. “It would be nice to hear her beautiful cry as she soars over the trees. Hadley told me you had Chester Glenn work his magic on her damaged tail feathers.”

“Yes, Chester is a master with raptors. I can’t imagine what I would do without his knowledge and skill. I can never repay him for his time and expertise. He has been a blessing to us here at the center,” Ruth said. “I think we’re just about ready to go.”

Ruth picked up a medium-sized dog crate. The red-tailed hawk was silent in the cage. The three walked over to the center’s van. After carefully securing the crate, Ruth looked at Skip and handed him the keys.

“If you will do the honors, Hadley and I will ride shotgun.”

Skip took the van keys and got into the driver’s seat. Hadley got in the passenger seat and Ruth sat in the back with the crate. Down the service road they went, stopping at the security gate to shut it.

Ruth put her hand on top of the crate and with her head close to the air holes, began to softly talk to the hawk.

“You know you are one lucky lady. You are going to be going to a place where the trees are bountiful, and the streams run clear. If you want, you will never have to cross a road on this land. There is plenty of room for you to hunt and fly free. If you can find a mate, this will be the perfect place to raise a family. There is only one old cabin, a barn, and maybe an old tool shed or two on acres and acres of rolling mountainside. The thermals up there on top of those mountains will let you soar to your heart’s content.

“You are going to be free, little lady. Free to soar, free to hunt, free to live out your days with your kind. I feel good about this. I think you are going to like Skip’s place just fine.”

Skip looked in the rearview mirror.

“You aren’t by any chance talking to the bird, are you?”

“I’m just giving her a little encouragement” Ruth said. “It can be scary setting out alone in a new place. The way she’s looking at me, I think she may understand some of what I’m saying.”

“Well, Ruth, you’re going to have to teach me to talk hawk sometime.”

As they wound around the curving road, they saw the two offset hemlocks marking the entrance to the Whittaker place.

“I’m glad I let you drive, Skip. I don’t think I could have found this spot with a GPS.”

Into the canopy of green, the van descended. Right at the first fork in the road, then two lefts. Another right. Bear right again. Over the small wooden bridge. Right. Right. Then, another left. The cabin came into view.

“You know, Skip, it’s been years since I came up here with Bill and Maury. I think you were only a little tyke,” said Ruth. “We came up on a picnic one Sunday. I had forgotten how pretty this place was. I think we walked down by the cabin and up a hill to a little meadow that had a creek running by it. If I remember right, there was a carpet of phlox in bloom. It was really a breathtaking spot.”

“Yeah, I know meadow you’re talking about,” Skip said. “That may be a good place to set this lady free. What do you think?”

“Sound like a perfect spot,” said Ruth. “Let’s get this crate out of the van, and we can get this show on the road.”

They carefully removed the crate and Skip led the way to the meadow carrying the hawk. Hadley noticed how lively the birds were singing this morning. It was almost as if an avian choir had assembled to witness the release of the hawk.

At least you won’t be lonely, she thought.

As they entered the meadow, Ruth explained to Skip that when they got to the area for release, he would place the crate on the ground. He would put on his gloves and gently open the door. Reaching into the crate, he would get a hold of the hawk’s legs. Bringing the hawk out of the enclosure, he would stand up with the bird in hand. He would then throw open his hands and set the hawk free.

Skip followed Ruth’s instructions, and the red-tailed hawk flapped her wings. She soared above the treetops. Her newly implanted tail feathers spread in their natural way, controlling her flight as well as her original ones had. As the three people stood in the meadow by the rushing stream, the hawk’s “
kee-eeeee-arr”
sounded over the treetops.

“I think she’s found her new home,” Skip said.

Hadley, Skip, and Ruth watched the hawk as she floated high above their heads.

“This is what it’s all about,” Ruth said.

Skip retrieved the empty crate from the ground and together they walked back to the cabin.

“Do you want something to drink?” Skip asked. “I have the best cold spring water this side of the Mississippi.”

“I think that sounds good,” Hadley said. “Do you think we can take a look in the cabin and see what you’ve been up to up here? Your mom told me you like to come up here and hang out. You
are
behaving yourself, aren’t you, Skip?”

“Oh, Auntie H. You know what a worry wart Mom is. You remember how she hovered over me when I was growing up? She didn’t want me to get dirty as a kid. I’m a grown man now. I just come up here and tend to the cabin and the land. You have to watch out over your possessions, nowadays. If you don’t somebody is liable to come in and steal everything you have right under your nose.”

“Of all the people in the world, excluding maybe Bill, I know how Maury is,” Hadley said. “I grew up with her, remember. She tried to mother me, and I’m the big sister! But you know, Skippy, we love you and we just want the best for you.”

“Did Mom ask you to talk to me or something?” Skip asked. “She sure has been acting funny lately. I swear, I think she even followed me up here one day. There were some different tire tracks in the road, and the only people who know how to get to the cabin are her and Dad. I think he has been too wrapped up with his law enforcement duties to waste time to come all the way up here, so that leaves Mom. I don’t know what she was doing or what she was looking for.”

“She is afraid you’re doing something that might get you into trouble,” Hadley said. “I think she thinks you are growing weed or making meth or something like that up here. You spend so much time by yourself. She’s just worried about you, and she is scared for you.”

“Tell her not to fret, Aunt H.,” Skip said. “I am just looking after the land the way Papa taught me. Daddy is the sheriff. Don’t you think I learned from an early age the difference between right and wrong?

“I want to make my dreams come true, like any other young guy, but I know I have to work hard to get there. There are no shortcuts if you want to be the kind of man that can look everyone in the eye and know he’s done it the right way.

“And tell Mom I am NOT growing pot or making meth. I don’t do drugs, and I don’t hang around people who do. Oh yeah, and tell her I don’t have a still up here, either. That would probably be the next thing she would start worrying about.”

Hadley ruffled his hair. “That’s my Skippy,” she said.

On the ride back to the rehab center, Ruth put on her old Queen CD, and the three rocked back to the MEGA park.

J
ubal Whittaker had been taught
the ways of the woods since he was a little boy. He had schooled his grandson from an early age, teaching the boy all the lessons that would serve him well as an older man. He passed on to Skip the importance of secrecy. In this land, a ginseng crop was a target for poachers.

That was why Skip had taken to going up to his land so much. His wanderings had a purpose. Armed with his shotgun, he was on patrol for trespassers looking to steal his precious herb. Today’s ginseng harvesters took the whole root, unlike in the early days of gathering.

The old way.

That’s how Jubal taught skip to harvest the plant. Leave one of the ‘man legs.’ That allowed the plant to reestablish itself. Jubal and Skip were looking to the future and hoping one day regulations would change, hoping the plant would be saved from extinction.

But because of the high prices folks could get for the herb, poachers had decimated the areas where it grew. They took the root and the neck where rootlets formed. They had even gone into federal parks where the removal of plants guaranteed jail time if the offender was caught. Even with the threat of prison, the plant was in danger. Fewer and fewer were living wild in the mountains that had once been their sanctuary.

Skip was raising his ginseng the way Jubal taught him. And that method of growing took patience. You could not harvest anything for eight to 10 years. Often, the mature plants would start making roots around the neck of the plant. By harvesting the existing root while leaving the rootlets in the ground, the plant survived harvest, and a new root could be grown from the existing plant. There were grants for wild-stimulated ginseng. Maybe the government would wake up to the potential for this herb as a cash crop for mountain folk. In the meantime, ginseng sites had to be secured, and their locations had to be kept secret.

Secrets.

They kept Skip’s crop safe.

He and his grandfather had been tending wide areas of ginseng on the mountain slopes for several years. Jubal had often told Skip that he was a poor man, but he was leaving his grandson a legacy that would one day provide for Skip and his family if he kept the secret and tended the land as his grandfather had instructed.

And Skip had taken those teachings to heart. He spent many days and nights roaming, keeping watch, and on guard, always listening for the hum of an ATV or scanning for holes dug in the slopes.

So far, his vigilance had paid off. He held the secret of his ginseng crop close to his heart like he had held the injured bird. Now, she was free to soar over woods and mountains that belonged to both of them. He promised himself that he would be on the lookout for not only poachers but also for the red-tail hawk.

His mother would just have to trust him. He had never given her any reason to doubt him. He figured his father was now, like always, too wrapped up in the county’s troubles to be looking for them at home.

He hoped he had convinced his aunt that he was not up to anything illegal. She had always been on his side. He hoped her curiosity had not been aroused. He knew if she decided to snoop around into his business, no secret of his would ever be safe.

“
H
ow’s Elwin doing
?” Hadley asked Maury.

“He’ll live, but you were right. His profile ain’t never gonna be the same. The bruising’s gone down a lot, Bill says, but Elwin is obsessed with that new crook near the bridge of his nose.”

“Poor fellah,” Hadley said. “I know it’s got to be a blow to his psyche. But Elwin’s still a good-looking man. He’s just not perfect anymore.”

“Lou Edna’s fit to be tied,” Maury said.

Hadley remembered seeing Elwin Dollie entering Lou Edna’s beauty shop. She had kept the secret of seeing them kiss during Lou’s lunch break.

“How so?” asked Hadley.

“Well, the fact that Elwin got hurt chasin’ some druggie just burns Lou Edna up. She says this whole county is going to the dogs. Makes me worry even more for Skippy, Hadley. I just lie awake at night and hope my boy ain’t going down that trail, you know.”

Hadley was glad that Maury had switched gears and gotten off Lou Edna and Elwin Dollie. Nothing like a slip of the tongue to let the cat out of the bag and reveal to her sister that Elwin was sweet on Lou.

“Skip is a good boy, Maury. He’s just sensitive, that’s all. How many other young bucks do you know who would have taken pity on an injured bird in distress by the side of the road. Most of the guys I know that are Skip’s age would have just cruised right on by that poor hawk. But not our Skippy. You should have seen him, Maury. I was so proud of him. That bird has a good home on Skip’s land.”

“I wish you’d have taken a video of it,” Maury said.

“You know, I plum forgot about that camera until I was half-way to Ruth’s. It was too late to go back for it, but I did get a couple of shots on my flip phone. They’re so little though it’s hard to make out anything. Sorry about that.”

“That’s okay.. Skip was so excited when he saw me I didn’t have to be there to visualize it all. I’m glad we’ve got Chester around to help out.”

“You said it. Chester did a masterful job on that bird’s feathers. It’s like she was never injured. Ruth’s going to pick Chester’s brain and learn all his secrets. That man is a wonder, he really is. And don’t worry so much about your son, Sis.

“I know I’m wasting my breath, but I’ve said it before, Skippy has a good head on his shoulders. He’s just like Jubal. He keeps to himself, but there’s nothing wrong with that. And he loves that mountain of his. He’s transforming that old cabin up there all by himself. It’s like he’s bringing that old house back to life!

“I’m proud of how he feels about the land and wanting to protect it. So many of his generation are just into music, texting, and their phone. But not that boy.”

“I know,” said Maury. “Bill and I are lucky and blessed.”

“You are,” Hadley said. “And Skip gave me his word that he’s not into anything shady. He’s just a very busy young fellah, Maury. And it’s time he made a nest of his own.”

“You’re right,” Maury said. “Cutting the apron strings is hard.”

“I know, but you’ll get through it. When you feel anxious or worried, go soak your corns!”

“Hadley Pell! I’ve told you a million times, that’s just a joke. I don’t soak my feet.”

“I know that,” Hadley said, “and it’s good to hear you laugh, Maury. I miss that laughter. I want to hear more of it.”

“You will,” said Maury. “I promise.”

“What you got planned for today,” Hadley said.

“I had a few things I needed to pick up at Pixies,” Maury said. “But other than that, not much of anything.”

“Let’s take a road trip, today,” Hadley said. “We haven’t done that in ages. I want see if I can find me some really good wind chimes.”

“Oh, Hadley,” Maury said, “do you think that’s wise. You know the old timers believe those things call up spirits.”

“Onus could use a good ghost to keep him company,” Hadley said. “And I wouldn’t mind it either. As long as he or she is the friendly type.”

“You’re hopeless,” Maury said.

“Ain’t that the gospel truth,” Hadley said.

“You got any leftovers?” Maury asked.

“Girl, you know I always have leftovers,” Hadley said.

“Pack us a picnic lunch,” Maury said. “I know how you are. You just take any road that hits your fancy. I go around like I can’t figure out my head from a hole in the ground.”

“I do that,” Hadley said, “don’t I?”

“Yes, you do,” Maury said. “But as long as we’ve got food and gas in the car, I don’t worry too much.”

“Oh, yes you do,” Hadley said. “I’ll bet you sit over in that passenger’s seat and pray we don’t have engine trouble or a flat tire.”

“It never hurts to pray, dear sister,” Maury said.

“I’ll see you in about 45 minutes,” Hadley said.

When she pulled up to Maury’s house, her little sister was ready.

“What kind of hat is that?” Hadley asked.

“My new sun hat,” Maury said. “Like it?”

Hadley looked at the multicolored mix of gaudy colors on her sister’s head. She didn’t want to hurt Maury’s feelings and tell her it looked like a crayon box had vomited on her head, so she said, “I’ll never lose you in a large crowd.”

“I like it, too,” said Maury. “Got food?”

“Plenty,” Hadley said. “And the tank’s full.”

“Let’s go,” Maury said. “Got any specific place in mind?”

“No where in particular,” Hadley said. “The plan’s to have a great time and be back before supper.”

They drove through the mountains, ending up near the Kentucky and West Virginia side of the mountains. Hadley just took roads that struck her fancy.

“Where are we?” Maury said, munching on a homemade double-Dutch chocolate chip cookie.

“I have no idea,” Hadley said. “But isn’t this beautiful country.”

“It is,” said Maury. “I’m glad you gassed up again a few miles back. You know, I love doing this. You and I have seen so much of this country just by taking off and meandering.”

“And I could never find some of those places again if my life depended on it,” Hadley said.

They drove on. Hadley twisted and turned down country mountain roads

“This is a pretty rugged place, Hadley,” Maury said. “Do you think it’s safe for us to be gallivanting around this neck of the woods?”

“We’ll try to backtrack and stop at that little town a few miles back. I thought I saw an interesting country store that might have just what I am looking for.”

They successfully found their way back to a little town with a small sign that said ‘Lelandsville.’ When they pulled up to the store front, two gentlemen walked out.

“Howdy,” Hadley said. “I see your sign in the window. Are y’all open for business?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Guy number one said.

Maury looked at Hadley. She couldn’t be serious about going into that store. The two men looked like genetic mutations of inbreeding. Their heads were long rectangles. The ears were set low and set out at 90 degree angles from their scalp. Atop the tall forehead were patches of hand-sheared, thick, black hair. It stuck up all over like their fingers had been playing in the electrical sockets. Their brows were heavy, eyes dark like four obsidian pools. Their noses were thick and straight, and their lips were full.

Their mouths were pasted to the bottom of their weak chins like an afterthought. Their necks were thickly corded with muscles, but their shoulders were small and sloping. They both stood a little over five feet. Their torsos were normal sizes, but their legs were short and stumpy. Stale works shirts, dirty jeans, and brogans completed their business attire. They stood on the porch, arms crossed. Their skin was dark and swarthy. The one next to Maury stood a few inches taller than his brother but only because his forehead stretched a couple of inches higher.

They were frowning. Or maybe not. Perhaps, Maury thought, that is just the expressions they wear to face the world – a bit of confusion mixed with a disgruntled, not angry, but more suspicious attitude.

Like looking into the mirror of
The Twilight Zone.
And there was Hadley Jane barging right into that shop without a moment’s hesitation.

I wonder about that girl sometimes, Maury thought.

“Mary Maureen!” Hadley yelled from deep inside the dark recesses of oblivion.

No, thought Maury.

“What,” Maury said, still standing on the front porch of the little shop staring the one zombie who remained on the porch.

This one had yet to say one word. Maury wondered if he ever.

“You’ve got to see this!” Hadley said, excitedly. “Their stuff is incredible!”

Against her better judgment, Maury entered the dark shop. There was no electricity. The only light in the store was filtered through the dingy windows of the storefront. The place was packed with wonderful hats. Birdfeeders made from large cans wrapped in heavy twine hung from the rafters. Old hubcaps had been painted in bright reds, oranges, and pinks. Rods had been attached and beaten metal leaves painted green made unique garden ornaments. And chimes. There were chimes made from old bottle caps. Chimes of cut bottles with cut-glass clappers with a coiled metal insert that ingeniously held it all together. A stringed-spiral chandelier chime constructed of hundreds of skeleton, modern, and handmade keys. And some very suspiciously wicked ones made of spent bullet casings. The wooden sign holding the bullets read “Trespasser’s Reward.” Canning lids and silverware hung from spectacularly intricate designs. There were carvings and other metal work displayed throughout the store.

“Look,” Hadley said, “here’s a wonderful silver bracelet curled and spiraled from a fork. It’s amazing!”

Hadley couldn’t help but try it on.

“Name’s Ronnie,” said the shorter man. “Runie’s my brother. We like to while away the time. Keep busy, you know. Don’t get much business out this far. But mebbe one day.”

“I know a lady who runs a store where I live,” said Hadley. “She is always looking for talented craftsmen, and I think that you two certainly fit the bill. For a small percentage of your sales, she will display your products in her store. Her cut goes toward a refuge for injured wildlife that she operates. Would you fellows be interested in talking to her?”

“I dunno,” Runie said. “Granny don’t like us to part with nuthin’ much.”

“I see,” said Hadley. “Could you part with one of your chimes? I’d really love to own one. They are so unique. You men are truly artists.”

“We won’t sell you nuthin’ but we can give you somethin’. Take yer pick,” Runie said.

Taking her time, Hadley decided upon a beautiful chime with leaves and birds and tiny bells.

“Here,” said Ronnie, handing Hadley a stone, “take this, too.”

“What it is?” asked Maury.

“A mad stone,” said Runie.

Hadley thanked the men. She made sure she slipped some money in a tin can nailed to a porch rail on her way out.

Once in the car, Maury asked, “How much did you put in that tin can, Sis?”

“I was afraid to put anything less than three twenties,” Hadley said.

Sixty bucks for a wind chime!” Maury said. “Ain’t that a bit steep?”

“Not if I want their granny witch’s blessing on me,” said Hadley. “Besides, they threw in the mad stone.”

Maury laughed.

“I don’t think we’re likely to be bitten by a rabid animal, Hadley,” Maury said.

“You never know,” said Hadley. “If I do, just moisten this baby in some warm milk and put it on my wound. This sucker will stick to the place and pull the ‘pizen’ right out.”

“Really, you believe that,” Maury said.

“No,” said Hadley, “but I gave them a donation in their tin cup, so they felt beholding to give me something in return. This mad stone’s gonna look nice on the sill of the window over my kitchen sink.”

“Got any ideas where you gonna hang your chimes?” Maury asked.

“Not a clue,” said Hadley. “I think I’ll call Skippy over and see if he can help me find just the right place.”

“Why d’you pick those?” Maury asked.

“Runie pointed them out,” Hadley said. “He whispered that he knew for a fact that their Granny had blessed these. She’s a granny witch, Maury. No spirits would dare come around when these make their music.”

“Nice to know,” said Maury. “Kinda comforting.”

“What would be even more comforting would be to find our way home without having to spend the night out in the boonies.”

Hadley and Maury couldn’t explain it. Maybe the chimes were charmed. Anyway, they found there way home without too much delay. It was early afternoon when Hadley dropped Maury off and arrived home.