Unraveled (5 page)

Chapter Ten

The Wraith couldn't help it. It was dangerous, but he rode past Ned Parker's house and glanced up the drive to see a truck backed into the barn and a ratty-assed International pickup parked near the house. The glimpse didn't last long and he was past. Less than a hundred yards down the road, he squinted toward Cody Parker's house and felt a familiar ache.

***

One day Mark Lightfoot was living in an unpainted house tucked in the woods not far from Grant, Oklahoma, eating beans and greens when they had them, and sleeping in the same full-size bed with four other cousins. The next day he found himself standing in front of Ned Parker's house.

He'd lived there before. Ned and Miss Becky took him in after his mother, brothers, and sisters were murdered in a sharecropper's shack not far from the Parkers' farmhouse. Until that night when his crazy daddy burst in with an axe, his life had been one bad patch after the other.

His dad was eventually captured, charged, and convicted of the horrific murders. Mark stayed with the family for the next several weeks and came to understand the Parkers were his dream family. When Ned and Miss Becky offered to let him live with them, he thought his life had finally taken a turn for the better.

It was the time of the Skinner, when folks locked their doors at night and slept with guns next to the bed in case the lunatic that roamed the darkness decided it was their time to bleed. Even then, Mark felt safe, because his informally adopted grandfather, Constable Ned Parker, could take care of anything.

The dream disappeared in an instant when relatives Mark didn't know he had, showed up one day in a ragged sedan to tell him who they were and that he was going to live with them in Oklahoma. There wasn't anything Ned and Miss Becky could do about it. The law was on his Aunt Tillie's side.

She looked like his mama, but of course sisters always favored. She lived with a shiftless sharecropper named Grover and it was like living with his mother all over again. Grover didn't do much more than loaf around the house smoking or chewing cotton bowl twist, and working only when Tillie drove him away from their leaning shack of a house to earn a few dollars for beans, beer, and more cigarettes.

Eleven kids lived under one roof and Mark fell exactly in the middle of his new family. They pretty much ignored the youngster most of the time. Every child had a job. The older kids worked the fields in season, or hauled hay, or did odd jobs whenever they came available. The younger kids had chores around the hardscrabble farm, from hoeing, to feeding chickens and gathering eggs, to cutting wood for the stove. There was no electricity in the house, and the only light at night came from coal oil lamps.

Mark found he had a knack for milking. It was their sharp-boned Guernsey cow that kept the least ones alive. The older kids had already grown tired of getting up first thing in the morning, rain or shine, cold or hot, to milk. It had to be done again in the evening. Even though he couldn't stand the taste, Grover went into a rage and beat anyone who spilled the milk on the way back to the house for straining, so they gladly gave the chore to Mark.

It was the only time he had to himself and the boy grew to enjoy it. That confounded cow and those younger kids became his life. He'd lost count of how many times there wasn't any food in the house and it became a source of pride that at least they had milk.

Through necessity, he gained experience at sneaking into other folks' corn cribs, smokehouses, or barns, and filling a 'toe sack with whatever food he could steal. Sometimes it was only potatoes and onions from cribs. On a chilly night after a nearby family killed hogs, he got away with a few hocks and the cheeks, because those parts tended to be overlooked and their disappearance blamed on dogs or rats.

One winter he was able to steal a few ears of feed corn from a barn on a weekly basis without getting caught. The yellow dent was so hard it had to be soaked for a day before they could cook it. They lived on mostly boiled corn and hand-ground cornbread for months.

The Oklahoma law came by the house a time or two, sniffing around to see what they could find out about petty theft reports, but Grover always convinced them he knew nothing of the pilfering. The gaunt looks of the Choctaw family usually told the sheriff or constable that the folks were barely alive as it was, and even if someone did bring home a few ears of corn intended as chicken feed, it wasn't much of a crime.

He went to school, though. That was the one thing he insisted on, and it was there he excelled. The small rural schoolhouse built by the WPA housed both Indian and white kids from their part of rural southeast Oklahoma. Mark stood out, making good grades and showing he had an aptitude for numbers.

Then one morning three-and-a-half years after his Aunt Tillie and Grover showed up out of nowhere, she called him off the porch. “Mark, you need to get in the truck.”

“Where are we going?”

Grover came out of the house with a rat-chewed cardboard suitcase. He pitched it into the truck bed amid a collection of hoes, bailing wire, loose hay, and empty feed sacks. “Get in, like she said.”

“I've told you you ain't my daddy. You're not the boss of me.”

Grover shrugged. “Don't make no difference nohow. You're going and good riddance.”

“Where?”

“Where Tillie told me.”

Mark watched the kids scramble into the bed over the sides and tailgate, excited to go somewhere. Martha and Brock, two other kinfolk who weren't blood but insisted on being called aunt and uncle climbed in the cab, setting the smallest kids on their laps.

Mark shrugged and joined them, hoping they were heading to Hugo and he could loaf around town for a while. At least it was something to do besides work.

He was shocked when they passed over the bridge and into Texas. He hadn't been across the Red River since Tillie and Grover came to get him. He knew for sure where they were going when Grover steered right and onto westbound 197.

They weren't going to the fields, because it was too early to work. There were no crops yet.

Mark watched the woods flash by as they cruised down the two-lane highway with excitement growing in his chest. One of the boys, Carl, rode with his arm over the edge of the truck bed. The wind blew his shaggy hair into his face. “Where we going, Mark?”

“I don't know.”

“We don't never work this side of the river. They don't much like Indians over here.”

“Some folks do.”

“I want to pick next to you.”

“It's too early in the year. We ain't picking nothin'.”

“Then what?”

They crossed the Sanders Creek bridge and Mark instinctively knew what was happening. “I think I'm going somewhere for a while.”

“What do you mean?”

Mark pulled his whipping hair back. “I'm going to be gone for a while, so you need to take over my chores for me.”

Carl looked down at his ragged tennis shoes. He was only one year younger than Mark. “I don't like to milk.”

“That's all right. You need to do it anyway to feed the lil'uns.”

“Where you gonna be?”

“I believe I'll be gone for a while.”

Herschel, three years younger, raised up on his knees to look through the cab and out the windshield. “I don't want you to go anywhere, Mark.”

The fourteen-year-old was torn between sadness and excitement. “I don't have a choice.”

The truck slowed below the white house on the hill. Grover turned up the drive and gravel popped under the nearly bald tires. He stopped in the yard at the same time Miss Becky came out onto the porch. Hootie ran up, barking. Mark thought she hadn't changed at all in nearly four years. She didn't notice him in the middle of the kids riding in back.

Tillie leaned out the window. “Miss Becky.”

She was drying her hands on a dishtowel. “Yes?”

“We done brought him back.”

“Who?”

“Mark. We can't take care of him no more.”

“Mark? Lightfoot?” She stepped closer to the edge of the porch.

“Yep. It was a mistake to come get him. We got too many mouths to feed and my own come first.”

“And mine,” Grover said.

Tillie didn't comment. She stuck her head out the door. “Mark. Get out.”

Miss Becky was rooted to the boards. “Y'all come and took him without a word, and now you're a-bringin' him back the same way. He ain't no dog you can give away and come get later.”

“I know it. We ain't comin' back.”

Mark had heard enough. He pulled Carl close and hugged Herschel. A small girl named Kate watched with wide eyes. He gave her a kiss on the nose. “Y'all take care of one another. I won't be back too soon, but I'll come help y'all directly. All y'all be good and remember I love you.”

Kate's eyes welled and they were the last thing Mark saw before he threw the little suitcase over the side and jumped over the rotting sideboard. “You kids do what you're told and be careful. I done told you I'll come back someday and get you. Don't forget it.”

“No you won't.” Grover said over his shoulder after he spat into the yard.

Mark spoke to the back of the man's head. “And I'll be growed and bigger'n you and you'll pay the price when I get there.”

Miss Becky flapped her towel in excitement when she saw Mark rushing up the steps. “Praise the Lord!”

Eyes suddenly full of happy tears, and for Kate's wide-eyed look of sadness, Mark ran into her arms.

Someone shouted from the direction of the barn, but Miss Becky's hug filled his senses and he couldn't look up right then.

Chapter Eleven

Sunday dinner was louder than usual. The excitement over Mark's return bubbled over like it was Christmas Eve. Grandpa'd already called Judge O.C. Rains at home and he promised to start working on the paperwork first thing in the morning to give Grandpa and Miss Becky full custody.

As usual, us kids were eating in the living room because the kitchen table wasn't big enough for everybody. We didn't mind for once, because we could talk all we wanted. The conversation in the kitchen came through loud and clear, and we kept it low with an ear out in case they said something about us.

I was barely halfway through my first chicken leg when Uncle Cody caught my attention.

“Ned, I don't mean this to sound bad, but y'all are getting a little old to take on another kid.”

“I said the same thing.” Uncle James was in my line of sight, and I saw him throw a glance in our direction. “We thought about letting Mark come live with
us
.”

Aunt Ida Belle chimed in. “You brought it up and I told you that was a bad idea in a lot of ways. Ned and Miss Becky didn't think it would be a good neither, especially with all the puppy love those two are passing back and forth.”

Pepper slapped her TV tray, almost knocking her tea over. “We're sitting right
here
.”

Miss Becky twisted around to take a pan of biscuits off the table without getting up. She gave me a smile and waved. “All right. James, y'all don't have no more room in that little house of yours anyway. It ain't no bigger'n this one.”

Uncle James made an announcement that surprised us all. “We'd have room. We're buying the Ordway place.”

“Well, my lands.” Miss Becky's hands fluttered over her plate. “I thought Dr. Dangerfield was living there.”

The doctor was a retired veterinarian who bought the Ordway place the year before, but only lived there a few months.

“He was, but he's moving to Dallas so he can be close to his daughter.” Uncle James sat straight and leveled his shoulders. “When I found out, I contacted a realtor in Chisum and got the ball rolling.”

“Shit.” Pepper leaned toward Mark, nearly sticking her nose in his long black hair. She took a lot longer than she should have to whisper in his ear. “That place is haunted. I don't want to live in no haunted house again.”

“You believe in ghosts?”

“Do you believe Top has dreams that come true?”

“Sure do. I've seen it.”

“Then believe in ghosts, too.”

Mark's sober face took the news as if she'd said the sun was bright. “Didn't y'all live in that house once already?”

I spoke up to make sure they hadn't forgotten I was there. They'd already started conversations that left me shut out. “Uncle James and them rented it when I first came to live with Grandpa and Miss Becky.”

Grandpa's voice came through loud and clear since he was facing us from the head of the table. “That place left a bad taste in my mouth. You oughta buy the land, push the house over, and build a new one.”

Aunt Ida Belle didn't like that idea at all. “It's a good house, and I've loved it since I was a kid. I didn't want to move in the first place back when we rented it a few years ago.”

“Well, I wish y'all'd find someplace else to live.” Grandpa buttered another biscuit.

“The sale has almost gone through. We didn't want to say anything until we were sure. We wanted to surprise you.”

Uncle Cody finally spoke up. “It'll be good to have you so close. That'll put us all within a mile of one another. That makes me feel pretty good. We can keep an eye on each other.”

“That's the way it was in the thirties,” Miss Becky recalled. “I 'magine we had twenty or more of our own families living within two miles of one another. It was good then. We could help each other when we needed it.”

“We do anyway.” Grandpa took a spoon full of red beans from the bowl in front of him. “It don't matter how far off folks are, but that's all right. Family helps family.”

“I'm gonna put some money into it and clean the place up.” Uncle James owned a hardware store in Chisum.

“It was shot full of holes.” I filled Mark in on the history of the Ordway house, since he'd been gone. “Some folks from Vegas rented it and we liked them a lot, but the guy worked for some gangsters. They came after him and there was a shootout one night a year or so ago that almost got us all killed.”

Mark jerked his head to get the hair out of his eyes. “I heard about that. Sheriff Griffin died that night.”

Pepper shuddered. “I hate that house, and they haven't told me a damn thing about it until just now.”

Mark grinned. “What makes
you
think it's haunted? I remember hearing Uncle Cody say he saw spirits one night when he was a kid, but I thought he was just trying to scare us.”

“Me and Top heard ghosts in there not long before Anthony and Miss Samantha moved in.”

“Who?”

“The gangster and his girlfriend.”

“How'd you hear the spirits?”

She peeked into the kitchen. “Me and Top snuck in through a hole in the floor. We were in the living room and heard someone walking around upstairs. It had to be a ghost, because the house was empty and the doors were locked.”

“Somebody could have snuck in just like y'all did.”

“Maybe.” I thought about it for a second. “But I don't think so.”

Pepper brightened. “You want to sneak back in after dinner and see if we hear something?”

Mark shook his head. “Nope. I don't intend to get in trouble with anybody. I just want to go to sleep in this nice house and eat when I'm hungry.”

Pepper's eyes welled, an unnatural act for her. “Was it rough where you were?”

“Yeah. My aunt and Grover don't have any money, and there were too many of us to feed regular. He worked ever now and then, but a dollar or two a day don't buy much after they smoked up a lot of it and drank the other half. He expected us kids to bring in the rest.”

“Whose idea was it for you to move back here? Grandpa would have come and got you any time you wanted.”

“I knew he would, but they weren't gonna let me go until they got good and ready. It was Grover's idea to get rid of me. He hit one of the little'uns one too many times and I busted him in the nose for it. He knocked me in the head and kicked me out for a couple of days. I stayed in the barn at night, and that wasn't too bad. The weather's been nice and I had a quilt to lay on.

“Then he came out this morning after I was through milking and said they were bringing me here 'cause I ate too much, and that was that. I didn't eat that much, really, but now the little ones will have my share of the food.

“And now my cousin will have to stand up to Grover. He'll be my size next year and he can take care of 'em. When I get out of school and get a job, I'll go back and get every one of 'em that's left.” He looked down at the full plate on the TV tray and spoke as soft as if he were in church. “There one minute and here the next. Damn that happened fast.”

They must have got to talking about adult stuff in the kitchen. Norma Faye came into the living room and turned the volume up on the television, a sure sign they didn't want us listening in.

Miss Becky's voice came through loud and clear. “Praise the Lord, we're all back together again!”

Norma Faye shook her red hair, gave us a grin and a wink, and went back to the table. The baseball announcer's voice made it hard to hear them after that.

Pepper got up and turned the television back down when the action stalled and the adults wouldn't know she'd done it. It didn't help, though, because they were talking quiet and we finally finished eating and went outside.