Vengeance is Mine (14 page)

“How about tonight?” Uncle Cody asked. “The weather is good, and the skeeters haven't been too bad this fall.”

“Deal.” Mr. Tony leaned back and stuck out his chest. “I'm going frog gigging.”

“Oh, Lordy,” Norma Faye said.

Chapter Twenty-six

In the car on the way back to their rented house, Tony lit a cigarette and blew smoke through his nose. “I suppose you caught that talk about new people here in town.”

Samantha watched the crooked fence posts pass by. She loved the tiny community and felt like she could spend the rest of her life in a place that seemed to be frozen in time and reluctant to emerge. “You think they're from Daddy?”

Tony wondered if the trio in the café was sent by Malachi Best. He couldn't imagine how they'd found him in such a backwater place, if they were really after him at all. But then again, they found them in Shamrock.

He shrugged. Those guys could simply be traveling through, the way he and Samantha passed through a dozen towns of similar size on their way to Chisum. “There is that possibility. I'd like to get a look at those guys. If Malachi sent them from Vegas, I'll know them. If they're contractors from somewhere else, I'll probably recognize their look.”

“How did he know where we are?”

“That's the thing that's bothering me. None of it makes sense.”

Instead of heading directly back toward the Ordway place, he took the first dirt road they passed and soon found himself driving between fields of cotton and harvested corn stalks.

Cicadas shrieked from the trees. Tony slowed on the dirt road when a narrow plank bridge spanned a dry ditch. They crept over the dusty boards. He and Sam leaned their heads out the open windows to see dried Johnson grass dying in the cracked mud of the wash. When he looked back up, half a dozen dogs broke from the nearby trees where they'd been lying in the shade. They darted down the rows of green cotton.

“Did you see that?”

“What a different world.” Sam started to flick her cigarette butt out the window, and then thought about the dried grass. Instead, she stubbed it out in the ashtray. “Those guys showing up here has to be a coincidence.”

“I'd like to think that, but more folks like us in Chisum? Look, I don't think your dad could have put us together at any time. I think they've figured out where I am, and are here for me, not you. Pinocchio must have told someone about this place.”

The sickening odor of rotting meat filled the car. Something nearby had died. Samantha waved her hand in front of her face. “Ugh.”

Tony accelerated, raising a rooster tail of dust, but getting into fresh air. Samantha punched the lighter into the dash. It popped out and she lit two more cigarettes, more to kill the stench in the car and their sinuses than anything else. “So you think my old man sent people to Chisum looking for you? That's crazy.”

Tony sighed. “You're right. I'm being paranoid, but something's up. There are too many
somethings
going on here. I still can't shake the idea that I've seen this Sheriff Griffin somewhere. He looked so familiar…”

A puzzle piece fell into place.

“Sonofabitch!” Tony slammed the brakes and the dust cloud that had been following them caught up, wrapping the car in a mini-sandstorm.

Sam waved at the dust rolling through the open windows. “What?”

“I remember seeing him now. This sheriff was sitting at a table with Malachi when he ordered me to take out that family, the one I couldn't do.”

“The family and kids?”

“That's the one.”

Tony let off the brakes and steered off the sunny dirt road to park in the shade of a wide oak tree where other vehicles had obviously parked before. Only a few feet away, a pipe crowned with a hand pump jutted from the sandy ground. He had no idea he was parked exactly on top of Cody's bird dog killed by The Skinner three years earlier.

“Sheriff Griffin was at the table in Vegas when I was there to talk with Best. The man didn't say a word, he just kept staring at me. I bet he remembered and called Malachi when he saw me in cuffs on the side of the road.” He snapped his fingers. “Then Malachi sent the squad in the café they were talking about.”

“What do you think he was doing in Vegas with Daddy? It doesn't make sense.”

“Stranger things have happened. Who knows why he was there, but I can promise you these guys are here for me.”

“You don't know that for sure.”

“I'll find out.”

“How?”

“I'll figure it out.” He chuckled as they made their way from the bottoms.

“Something funny?”

“Yeah, I was thinking about the city and the Family, and now here I am getting ready to go frog gigging with a bunch of country hicks.”

“They're nice people.”

He nodded and chuckled again at the incongruity of it all. He'd graduated from clocking people to bumping off frogs.

Chapter Twenty-seven

It was full dark by the time Uncle Cody and Mr. Tony backed the El Camino under one of the hay barn's wings to load the flat bottom johnboat. It was going to be the four of us, because Miss Sam said she'd rather watch color television and catch up on her magazine reading.

Uncle Cody tied the boat into the back so it wouldn't slide out. “Hold this flashlight, Top, so I can see. Ned'll meet us in a couple of hours down close to the river.”

I held it and Mr. Tony watched him snug down a half hitch. “How will he know where to pick us up?”

“We've done this for years. You kids, climb in there and let's go.”

We went over the tailgate and sat in the boat. The El Camino's engine caught. Grandpa was waiting by the gate when we drove down from the barn. Once past, he closed and locked it behind us.

“Y'all do what they tell you,” Grandpa warned us as we drove past.

“What does he think we're gonna do?” Pepper asked me. “Run around these dark woods like chickens with our heads cut off?”

“Adults always say that. They think they have to.”

“I wish Miss Sam had asked me to watch TV with her.” Pepper's long hair was parted in the middle and tied with a leather headband. It blew in the wind as we rode down the highway, and she kept pulling it out of her face.

“This was your idea for the most part. You were the one talking it up to Mr. Tony.”

“Well, that's before I knew Miss Sam wasn't going with us. I'm thinking I'm getting too old to be a tomboy anymore. A different scene is calling me.”

“What?”

“A cool new scene, man. Think about what it's like out there. Wouldn't it be far out to split this town and hitchhike to somewhere else, like Vegas or California and…?”

“I don't know who you are,” I interrupted. “You're talking like a Dutchman. I don't understand a thing you're saying.”

She shot me that look that was worse than her cussing. Uncle Cody pulled off the road and under the creek bridge. He backed the truck to the creek and killed the engine.

Pepper thumbed the switch on her flashlight and we saw the muddy water swirling past. A water moccasin slid off a nearby log and plopped into the current. “Did Mr. Tony see that?”

He was looking the other way. “No, but this is going to be fun.”

Pepper handed me the flashlight and tugged the transistor radio from the pocket of her jeans. She rolled the on switch with her thumb. The Byrds were singing “Tambourine Man.”

“Get rid of that crap or get us some good country music.” Uncle Cody came around to the tailgate. “Y'all get out of there so we can unload the boat. Tony, you're gonna get them shoes all muddy.”

He looked down and shined his flashlight on the bank. “I didn't think about that.”

“It'll wash off,” Pepper rolled the dial wheel, looking for a different channel. Johnny Wright's “Hello Vietnam” came on.

Uncle Cody shook his head and pulled the light boat out of the back. “Not that neither.”

“Girl on the Billboard” filled the night. Everyone but Mr. Tony sang along while we loaded the boat with the frog gigs and 'toe sacks.

“Tony, you get in the bow and we'll put the kids between us.”

“That's the front, right?”

“That's it.” We were barely settled when Uncle Cody pushed us into the sluggish current. He dipped a paddle into the dark water and pointed us downstream. The late October waning moon was still bright overhead, and if we didn't need the flashlights to light up the frogs, we could have read a book in the bright glow.

Pepper shined her light forward and I passed Mr. Tony the frog gig. He held it sideways. “What am I going to do with this?”

“Job the frogs with it when we see 'em.” Pepper made a jabbing motion.

“
Jab
them? Kid, why don't you move up here and do it.”

“Because you're company.”

“Huh?”

Uncle Cody angled us toward the right bank. “She means that you're our guest, so you get to have the fun. Pepper, on your right.” Her beam steadied on a large frog. “Tony, see that bullfrog's eyes shining right there beside that pin oak?”

“What's a pin oak?”

We tried not to laugh, but frog gigging with a city boy was fun. I added my flashlight to Pepper's beam. “That tree closest to the water.”

He finally found the frog's bright, reflective eyes. “That's the biggest frog I've ever seen.”

“He's a good 'un. Now, when we get close enough, stick 'im with that gig.”

We drifted into position and I couldn't stand it anymore. “Now!”

Mr. Tony lunged with the gig, and missed by a mile. With a yip, the frog jumped into the water and vanished.

Pepper had to duck to miss the long pole waving over her head when Mr. Tony yanked it free of the mud. “Shit! Careful. We're back here.”

Uncle Cody cracked her in the back of her head with his knuckle. “Watch it, missy.”

“Ow!”

Mr. Tony ducked his head, embarrassed. “Sorry.”

“No problem.” Uncle Cody steered us back into the middle of the creek. “You'll get the next one.”

We heard a deep croak. I found the next bullfrog with my light. “Right here.”

Uncle Cody dipped his paddle again and we drifted toward the frog.

“Like this?” Mr. Tony held the gig like a spear.

“Whatever works for you.”

“Letting one of these kids do it works for me.” With a grunt, he lunged with the gig again. “Got him!” He held the limp frog up high. “Now what?”

I opened the wet 'toe sack. “Pass him back here.”

Mr. Tony spun the gig so I could reach the frog. “This thing is nasty.”

I grabbed the pole to steady it, and pulled the dead frog off the long tines. Pepper shifted on her seat to see around me. “You think
frogs
look nasty, wait'll you see an old mud-cat.”

Mr. Tony didn't know what to say, but I knew he was trying to figure out what a mud-cat was. He beamed. “This is all right.”

Uncle Cody pushed his Stetson back and laughed. “I knew you'd like it.” His face changed when he saw a second water moccasin unwrap itself from an overhanging limb. It took a looong time to slide into the water and swam ahead of us.

Mr. Tony saw it and the next thing I knew, he was holding a .38 revolver.

“Can you hit him with that?” Uncle Cody asked.

It looked like Mr. Tony was surprised to find the gun in his hand. He hesitated. “Yeah.”

“Well, shoot him them.”

Me and Pepper kept the snake lit up. Without waiting, Mr. Tony straightened his arm and fired. A flame shot from the cylinder and the barrel. The bullet struck the snake about two inches from behind its head in an explosion of water.

Uncle Cody whistled. “Damn, that was good shooting.”

Mr. Tony nodded. “I used to practice a lot out in the desert.”

“Well, it paid off.”

“I don't like snakes.”

“Neither do we.”

I saw Pepper shudder. She hates snakes with a passion. “You can kill all of them you want.”

He slipped the revolver back into his pocket and transferred the gig into his right hand. “That was fun. Who's next?”

I held out my hand. “Me.”

Instead of changing places, I moved up beside Mr. Tony and got ready. In the next half hour, we drifted downstream, adding one frog after another to the sack. Pepper wasn't interested in gigging, which was fine by me.

Uncle Cody steered us into the middle of the channel. “Kids, I'm afraid we won't recognize this creek in a few years. That new dam'll choke the water off and we'll only get to float when they open the gates after it rains.”

Pepper's flashlight beam skipped across the bank and through the dark trees. “Grandpa hates the idea of that lake.”

I hated the idea of it killing this creek, myself.

A few minutes later, we drifted through the Rock Hole. I shined my flashlight up on the tall sandstone cliff jutting high overhead on our right. Then I moved it to the other side and the shallow bank where The Skinner kept me and Pepper tied up when he took us. It was the first time we'd been back since that stormy night.

I shivered.

Pepper clammed up and when the silence got to her, switched her radio back on. I didn't recognize the song, but it didn't matter, because I wasn't listening anyway. Uncle Cody paddled hard to get us out of there and the old swimming hole disappeared into the gloom.

Mr. Tony noticed something was different, but he didn't say anything.

Uncle Cody rapped on the side of the aluminum boat. “Knock knock.”

I knew what he was trying to do. “Who's there?”

“Madam.”

“Madam who?”

“Open up. Ma-dam foot got caught in the door!”

It wasn't real cussing, but it was enough to break our sad spell. We kept floating and telling knock knock jokes until we came up on a tree laying across the creek. The low banks held the trunk only inches above the water.

“Well, hell.” Uncle Cody let us drift up parallel to the trunk. “We're gonna have to climb out and drag the boat over to the other side.”

Mr. Tony rested his hand on the rough bark. “It doesn't look too stable.”

“It'll hold us. Pepper, shine your light over there.” Uncle Cody put his hand over hers and directed the beam onto a mass of roots still anchored in the ground. He followed the trunk to the other side. “This thing is as solid as a bridge.” He grabbed a stout limb. “Okay kids. Y'all climb up and get a good hold out of the way. Shut off them lights and you'll be able to see and still keep your hands free.”

He was right. In no time our eyes adjusted enough to climb out of the boat and work our way onto the log. I didn't stand up. Instead, I straddled it like a saddle and took the sack of frogs from Uncle Cody. Pepper scrambled up beside me like a monkey and squatted on the log to show she wasn't scared of falling off.

Mr. Tony was next. I shifted out of the way. One tall limb stuck straight up in the air, so he climbed out of the boat and stood beside it, holding onto it like a fencepost.

Uncle Cody was last. He handed me the paddle and carefully pulled himself out of the boat to sit astraddle of the log like me. I looked up to see limbs and dying leaves towering overhead in the bright moonlight. “Now, we'll pull the boat over onto the other side and climb back in.”

The boat was halfway out of the water when everything went to pieces.

Standing above me, Mr. Tony jumped and reached for his collar. “Snake! Snake! Snake fell down my back!”

He was twisting and twitching in horror. It looked like Pepper's new dancing style. The worst thing I could imagine had happened, a water moccasin falling down someone's shirt to bite him over and over. I did the only thing I could do. I swung the paddle one-handed against Mr. Tony's back, hoping to kill the snake so it couldn't bite him any more than it already had.

With one hand, the blow wasn't hard, but he turned and it caught him in the stomach making him double over with a whoosh of air.

“Goddlemighty!” Uncle Cody let go of the boat and barely managed to catch Mr. Tony's collar to keep him from falling in. The boat landed with a splash, upside down.

It was all too much for Pepper. Terrified of snakes, she jumped into the water to get away from what she probably imagined was a tree full of cottonmouth moccasins.

“Well. Shit!” The radio in her pocket immediately went silent, emphasizing the nighttime sounds around the creek. I looked over to see my cousin standing in the chest-deep water and holding onto a limb.

Uncle Cody grabbed Mr. Tony's shirt and gave it a yank, pulling it out of his britches. When he did, it was bright enough to see a lizard plop down onto the tree trunk beside me before it skittered away.

We were all silent for a long moment, and then Uncle Cody started laughing. It looked like Mr. Tony thought about it, and then he joined in. Before long, we were all laughing at Mr. Tony's lizard.