Bully never saw Willard again.
Alice Fae and Jessie arrived home an hour earlier. Doc Grasson and Jessie gave Alice Fae a ride home when they met her walking home from Miss Lillian’s. During the preparations for supper, Jessie related his afternoon with Doc Grasson to his mother. His mouth ran with no hint of a pause to breathe. Alice Fae enjoyed his excitement.
The sound of the Willard’s Ford crashing into the mailbox interrupted supper preparations. Alice Fae knew Willard and Bully were drunk. She ran to the churn and confiscated Bully’s supply of Wild Cat and hid it behind the flour in the pantry. She ran for the window. Alice Fae and Jessie pressed their faces to the glass. Willard circled the house in wild commotion and headed home.
“Jessie, darling, don’t say or do anything to upset your daddy! Promise.”
Her heart raced, and her hands were sweaty. Bully staggered onto the porch with the fishing rod and made his way into the house.
“What are you looking at, woman?”
“You hungry, Bully?”
“Yea, I’m hungry. What’s for supper?” Bully slurred.
“Black eyed peas, fried okra, cornbread, and fresh tomatoes.”
“Sounds good to me. Jessie, come here. Look what Willard and I found down at the river.”
Bully pulled the fishing rod from behind his back. Jessie’s eyes lit up. Bully handed the fishing rod to Jessie who ran out to the front yard and attempted to cast without success. Alice Fae finished the supper preparations and called Jessie in for supper. The three sat down to eat. Jessie overflowed with excitement.
“Dad let’s go fishing tomorrow. With that rod and reel, I bet we could catch the biggest fish in the world!”
Bully remained silent. He shoveled food into his mouth. His eyes were fixed on his plate. Jessie’s excitement erupted to greater and greater heights fueled by the visions of big fish and time with his father.
“Eat your supper, Jessie.” Alice Fae cut her eyes toward Jessie. Splotches appeared across her chest. Fork and knife were clinking on Bully’s plate. Jessie’s voice continued to rise with excitement. Alice Fae’s eyes darted back and forth. She attempted to kick Jessie under the table.
Without warning, Bully backhanded Jessie across the face, knocking him into the living room area.
“Shut the hell up, boy.” Bully’s eyes locked onto Jessie’s sprawled body lying on the wide plank oak floor.
Bully stood up and flipped the table into the air. Bowls, tea glasses, and food went flying. Bully lunged at Jessie. Alice Fae threw her body between the raging Bully and the terrified child.
“Bully, please don’t! Please don’t do this!”
“Get outta my way, Alice Fae! That little bastard is gonna learn a lesson tonight!”
“No! No! Bully please. Jessie, go to your room and don’t come out! Alice Fae ordered Jessie, who scrambled off the floor and ran to the back room.
Bully scanned the room in a staggering stupor, looking for a target for his rage. He stumbled over to the churn and reached for his private supply of Wild Cat.
“Woman, where’s my whiskey?”
“Bully, you don’t need more whiskey.”
“Don’t’ tell me what I need, woman!”
Bully staggered to the rod and reel. He picked it up and raised it over his head.
“Alice Fae, where’s my goddamn whiskey.”
“Bully, you don’t need…”
Wham! Bully struck Alice Fae across the chest with the rod and reel.
“Where’s my goddamn whiskey, Alice Fae?”
Wham! Once again Bully struck Alice Fae in the back when she turned, trying to get up from the first vicious blow. She went down again. She stayed down. Bully staggered to Jessie’s door. He kicked it in. The door exploded in wood splinters. Bully staggered into the room.
“Where’s my whiskey, you little shit?” Bully scanned the room.
Jessie did not respond. Bully jerked the closet door open and ripped the clothes down from the hangers. No Jessie. He looked under the bed. No Jessie.
“Jessie, you best be coming to me when I call you. You know what your mamma got for messing with me.”
Silence.
Bully stumbled back into the living room and Alice Fae had disappeared. Bully made his way out to the front porch.
“Alice Fae! Jessie! You better get back in here!” The autumn Mississippi night offered Bully only whip-o-wills, crickets, and bull frog sounds. Lighting bugs dotted the darkness. He staggered back into the house and passed out on the couch.
Checkmate
Willard’s Ford threatened to come apart. He rounded the curve and blew past the plum bushes. Rover waited. Willard struggled to see through the dirty windshield. He caught the glimpse of an old red truck sitting crossways in the road. Four men, with flashlights and shotguns, stood in front of the truck. Willard slammed on his brakes and went into a slide. Willard’s Ford missed the truck but did not miss the high bank next to the blockade. It went high onto the bank and rolled over and over, plowing through a barbed wire fence and cutting a swath through a blackberry patch. The truck came to rest upside down in the back water of a small cattle pond. Willard crawled out the back window It’s glass a victim of the first roll..
“That’s a hell of a place to park a truck, fellas!” Willard muttered wiping mud from his face.
The four men approached Willard with flashlights and shotguns. It was Mizel and three of Carl’s boys.
“Don’t kill him. Boys. Mr. Carl wants him alive.”
“Goddamn, Mizel! Is that the best place you can find to park that truck?”
Willard staggered out of the water. Carl’s boys stuck shotguns in Willard’s face and ordered him out onto the road.
“What you boys up to, Mizel? Watch those guns. Might hurt someone if you’re not careful.”
“Fellas, put this drunk in the truck and let’s get outta here.”
“Where we going, boys? Looks like for a little ride. What about my truck?”
“You’re not going to need that truck where you’re going,” Mizel said.
Willard followed Mizel and Carl’s boys to their truck. They threw Willard into the back and joined him with their shotguns. Mizel got behind the wheel and drove toward Guntown.
“Oh, Lord! Darling, I think I’m having me a religious experience! Don’t stop! Don’t stop!”
Mavis’ legs pointed toward the ceiling. Dalton’s eyes rolled into the back of his head. His nostrils flared. The headboard banged against the wall. The bed springs sang.
Bang! Bang! Bang! The screen door on the old house broke through Dalton’s testosterone storm and Mavis crash landed back in Mississippi from her orgasmic flight.
It was Alice Fae.
“Mavis! Mavis! Let me in!”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
“Quick! Let me in!”
Dalton cussed, and Mavis grabbed for her panties. Mavis pulled herself together, knees weak, and made her way to the front door. Alice Fae rushed inside the house the moment Mavis unlocked the latch.
“Mavis! Mavis! Bully’s done beat up on Jessie and me, again! Bully’s done hurt Jessie; I know it! I know it!”
“Alice Fae, calm down, dear. Calm down.” Mavis hugged Alice Fae. Mavis felt a warm wetness on Alice Fae’s back. She lifted her hand toward the light and blood covered her hand.
“That does it! Dalton, come in here.” Dalton came in with hair sticking straight up, bib overalls latched on one side, no shirt or shoes.
“Look, Dalton!” Mavis showed Dalton her hand.
“That son of a bitch Bully did this to Alice Fae!”
Dalton reached for his boots, lantern, and shotgun. Mavis ran for bandage materials.
“Don’t kill him, Dalton! Don’t kill him,” Alice Fae pleaded with Dalton. “Just get Jessie and bring him here!”
“Dalton don’t kill him, but don’t let him know you’re not,” Mavis said. She spoke through gritted teeth.
Mizel and the boys rolled into Carl�
��s place. Willard passed out during the ride. One of Carl’s boys revived Willard with a bucket of water.
Mizel sold whiskey, but he hated drunks. Mizel surveyed the scene. No customers were in sight. Carl’s boys drug Willard from the truck and man handled him toward the back door of Carl’s place. Mizel reported to Mr. Carl. Carl instructed Mizel to lock Willard in a back shed and let him sleep off the whiskey. He wanted to see Willard the following day around two in the afternoon.
Dalton lived two miles from Bully’s place. He walked at a brisk pace with the lantern off. A full moon made visibility manageable. Dalton’s quick pace brought the light of Bully’s place into view. He walked down the drive toward the house.
A single light illuminated the kitchen. Dalton approached the house.
“Bully, you in there? It’s me, Dalton. Hey, Bully! Anybody home?”
Dalton cocked the shotgun. He walked up the steps onto the porch and looked in the open front door. There Bully lay, passed out on the couch. Scattered food and dishes covered the floor.
“Jessie, it’s me, Dalton.”
Nothing. Dalton entered the front door and made his way to the bedrooms. He raised the wick on the lantern, casting a dim light into the small rooms.
“Jessie! It’s me, Dalton. Can you hear me?”
Rover bounded into the house and barked with great enthusiasm.
Dalton’s heart stopped for a moment. Bully never moved. Dalton composed himself and stuck out his hand. Rover came over and licked Dalton’s hand. He knew Dalton.
“Rover find Jessie for me. Go find Jessie.”
Rover wagged his tail and barked. He went through the house, sniffing and looking. He bolted outside and circled the house. Rover raced down to the chicken coop. Rover barked and scratched at the chicken coop door. Dalton approached the coop and shined his lantern over into the coop. There Jessie sat, huddled in a corner, rocking back and forth, with his Civil War books. Dalton heard Jessie repeating a singsong chant while he rocked. Dalton interrupted Jessie.
“Hey, Jessie, it’s me, Dalton.”
“Who goes there, Yanks or Rebs?” Jessie emerged from his trance and spoke with authority.
“Well, Jessie, Rebs of course. Are you, all right? Your mamma’s worried sick. She sent me to git you.”
“Sir, I’m sure many mothers worry about their sons, but I’m lost from my detachment and must return to Major Pelham.”
“Major who? Jessie, you’re not making no sense.”
“Major John Pelham, sir. I serve with Major John Pelham. We are part of Gen. J.E.B. Stewart’s horse artillery. You mean you never heard of Major John Pelham, sir?”
“Jessie, I can’t say I have. Let’s you and me git on down to the house. Your mamma’s worried sick.”
“Sir, I need supplies and I need a horse. We are fighting for the Glorious Rebel Cause. Major Pelham would be pleased if you assisted me.”
Dalton appeared confused and frustrated. “Jessie, damn it, if you will come with me, I’ll help you get supplies.”
“Very well, sir.” Jessie collected his books and moved toward the lantern.
“That’s a nice dog you got there, sir. Does he have a name?”
“Does he have a name?! Jessie, that’s Rover!”
Dalton’s frustration turned to anger when Jessie approached the light. Blood covered the right side of his face; his eye was swollen shut.
“Sir, with all due respect, why do you keep calling me, Jessie?”
“Darn it, Jessie, because that’s your name. Now, let’s quit jawing and get down to the house and get you cleaned up.”
“Sir, my name is Private John Starke, serving under Major John Pelham, Chief Artillery Officer for General Jeb Stewart, Confederate States of America.”
Dalton blurted out, “Whatever! Come on, soldier.”
Dalton, Rover, and the young boy soldier walked down the gravel road toward Mavis and Dalton’s house. Soldier Starke pumped Dalton with a thousand questions.
Where was he? How far was he from Virginia? Where could he get his hands on a musket? Were there Federal troop movements in the area?
Dalton tried to argue the point with the boy soldier, but he gave in and answered his questions.
When they approached the sharecropper shack, Alice Fae came running off the porch, sobbing, with tears running down her face.
“Oh, my baby, are you all right” She hugged and kissed Jessie.
The boy soldier became a statue.
“Dalton, who is this poor woman?”
“Play along soldier; she thinks she’s your mamma.” Dalton rolled his eyes.
“Since I have no memory of my real mamma that will be easy enough, sir,” the boy soldier whispered.
“Mavis, get those bandages ready. Jessie’s hurt!” Alice Fae yelled toward the shack.
Mavis appeared through the front door with a warm wet cloth. She placed the cloth onto Jessie’s face. He grimaced but did not flinch.
“Alice Fae, will you hold that rag there while I talk to Mavis?”
Dalton motioned to Mavis while Alice Fae attended to Jessie. Dalton walked a few steps toward the porch and whispered.
“Mavis, Bully’s done beat that child senseless. He isn’t himself. He’s been rambling on ‘bout some guy named Pelham, I believe. Says he’s a soldier and all manner of stuff. Bully ought to be shot, and I just might do it.”
“You better hurry or I’ll beat you to it.” Mavis gritted her teeth. “Alice Fae can’t take much more; she’s on the edge.”
“Well, come on and let’s get those two fixed up and put to bed. We better get Doc Grasson tomorrow.”
“Whoa, mule!” Curtis wrapped the leather reigns around a bolt in the sled and walked up to Bully’s house. There was a strange quietness. No Rover. No Jessie. No Bully.
Curtis leaned over the porch and looked through the open front door.
“Bully, it’s me, Curtis. Time to git going, Bully!”
Nothing. Silence.
Curtis climbed the porch steps and poked his head into the door. Bully was where Dalton had left him, on the couch.
“Bully! Bully!” Curtis screamed into his ear. Bully stirred and rub his eyes. Curtis grabbed Bully and shook him with his stubby hands.
“Goddamn it, Curtis! I hear you! Give me a minute.”
“Boy, Bully, you guys must’ve had a party here last night.
Looks like a bomb went off or something. Did you have pretty girls and everything?”
Bully rubbed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair as he surveyed the chaos.
“Curtis, I don’t know what we had here last night. Last thing I remember is being on the way home from the Tallahatchie River. Where is Alice Fae and Jessie?”
“Bully, I didn’t find nobody except you when I came up.
The dog ain’t even here.”
“Oh, my aching head. I think I’m dying.”
“Well, you got to die at the barn, ‘cause we got stuff to be doing.” Curtis motioned for Bully to get moving. “Guess what I saw coming down here, Bully. That Willard fella you run around with, his truck is laying upside down in a cow pond like a big ole sow. Saw it this morning.”
“Curtis, you sure?” Bully became more alert.
“Saw it with my own eyes.”
Bully jumped up and went into the kitchen. He drew water from a galvanized water bucket with a gourd dipper and placed it in a wash basin. He washed his face and ran a comb through his hair.
“Let’s go, Curtis! I want to see what you’re talking about! I wish I knew where Alice Fae and Jessie could be. This place does look like a bomb went off, Curtis.”
Curtis and Bully climbed into the mule sled and headed for the barn. When Bully and Curtis approached Rover’s beloved plum bushes, they expected to see the yellow lab greet them with his customary barks of triumph, but, Rover failed to appear.
“Curtis, this is a strange morning, so far. Alice Fae and Jessie got out early, the house is a wreck, Rover’s no
t showing up, and you’re telling me Willard’s truck is upside down in a cow pond.”
“Right up here, Bully. Saw it with my own eyes. You’ll see.” Curtis moved into his tour guide mode.
Rounding the curve, Bully could see the tire marks where Willard hit his brakes. Hugh chunks of dirt were missing, and bushes flattened, where Willard left the road and went over the top of a barbed wire fence. Curtis brought the mules to a stop and Bully hobbled out to inspect the scene. He found a favorable place to cross the barbed wire fence that separated the road from the cattle pond. Sure enough, there Willard’s truck lay upside down in about two feet of water.
“Willard, you out there! Willard, answer me!” Bully showed frustration.
“Curtis, carry me out there on your back. I got to take a closer look at that truck.”
“Snakes might git us, Bully. I love animals, except snakes.”
“Damn, Curtis, no snakes want you this early in the morning.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Look,” Bully picked up a stick, “I’ll take this stick and make any ole snake pay if he messes with us.”
“Promise?” Curtis asked.
“Yep, let’s go.”
Curtis squatted low enough for Bully to climb aboard.
Curtis staggered, trying to get his balance.
“Curtis, don’t drop me before we even git started.”
“You been eating too many of Miss Alice Fae’s biscuits, Bully!”
Curtis grunted and groaned under Bully’s weight. He regained his balance and trudged through the muddy water toward the helpless truck.
Bully whacked Curtis on the backside, “Git up, mule.”
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