by Chris Vaughn
"I'm comin' in this house one way or the other," Frank screamed out and headed down the stairs and found his way to the front porch steps. He used the bat as a crutch again to get to the porch. He turned the doorknob hard and the front door was locked like he had said it was. He tried the front lock as he had the back lock over and over and each time the door remained locked. Realizing that the door wouldn't open, he threw his shoulder into the door to break it down. A man with a broken rib can't put up much of a fight against a solid wood with only a small window at the top.
"I'll go to the back door, I can knock out those windows and climb in." Frank yelled into the air.
Finding himself at the back porch again, he grabbed the door fiercely and out of habit. He turned the door knob again to check if it was locked while at the same time he prepared to use the bat to knock out the panes of glass. The tumblers in the lock didn't fight or stop the door, and the latch cleared the stop. The door swung open with the full fury of the man who had tried earlier to open it. The force of his weight on the door caused him to lose his balance and fall on the floor with a thud. Frank looked back at the door for a second, "Guess I didn't unlock the door like I thought." Frank struggled to stand up the broken rib causing him to whence with pain.
"All right, girl, I'll find you now." Frank stumbled through the kitchen to go further into the house still holding the bat.
A gust of wind came from somewhere and blew the door shut. Frank looked at the doorknob as he heard the distinctive sound of a door being locked.
Chapter 16
Sheriff Waters pulled up to the house in his patrol car close to the back door just as Rudy and Clementine were making their way towards the back porch. He was just on a friendly house check so he didn't have his siren or gumball light on top of the car on, but was perplexed as to why the Fryar's were heading up the porch. Billy Waters was a fair man with anyone, and even with the darker races, but he was a man of his time, and his profession; his trust wasn't easily extended in an uncertain situations.
"Now what you people doin' here at the Hand house?" Billy asked as he placed his hand on top of his gun for effect, while he slid his hat on the back of his head.
Clementine turned on a dime and ran towards Billy and threw her arms around his shoulders.
"He's crazy, Sheriff! Crazy!" The words she spoke were almost unintelligible.
"What's going on here?' Billy threw her arms off of him and headed towards the back door and Rudy, and Clementine collapsed on the ground with Jackie running up to her. Billy turned around to see Jackie run to her mother as each tried to calm the other down.
Rudy talked in a normal voice but with a bit lower volume. "Sheriff, it's Frank Little. He's crazy drunk or just crazy. He's inside the house, but I can't get in yet. The door is locked. Shh... Be quiet, I thought, you can hear Frank talkin'"
Frank Little was talking out loud to himself or more a low yell. "I've done this before and I can do it again. I can make it look like that a black man did it." He continued on and on, with both men trying to make out what he was saying and more so what he meant.
"What's he talkin' about?" the Sheriff asked.
"I don't know. He's crazy, Sheriff."
"Well, let's just leave him alone. Frank Little is a man who gets wild when he drinks. Every sheriff around here knows that."
"Sheriff, we can't Buddy Hand's little girl is in there, Joy. He chased her in there. He done hit me, knocked me out, then tried to take liberties with my girl Jackie, she's over there with a swelled up eye, and I guess Joy hit him or something, but he took off after her, saying he was gonna have his way with her. Sheriff you got to do something...."
"Ain't no one gonna do nothing to me; just like all the other times. Come on, little Joy, I'm a gonna find you...." Frank's voice kept speaking in an eerie fashion as it came from the living room of the house.
Billy didn't wait for Rudy to finish his sentence but stood up and started for the door. He shook the old wooden pane window door back and forth, but the lock wouldn't budge. He pulled his gun out of the holster and fired a couple of round shots at the door. He grabbed the doorknob and tried to walk in house only to walk into a door that wouldn't budge.
"Dang!" Rudy said not believing what he saw.
"Clevon ain't here to take the hang, but I'll find someone...." Frank was still in a rage of talk and discussion within himself.
Sheriff Walker took his gun and broke the windows and panes out. Seeing that some of the glass hadn't come out he took his forearm to use a battering ram to break all the wood and glass away. The hits cut his shirt and broke the skin. On the back porch there was always a spare bucket, a bench, a washtub, or something. The Sheriff looked for something to step up on and grabbed the #2 washtub that was nearby and placed it on the floor upside down to stand on. He put his gun back in its holster and stood on the washtub as he tried to make sure he had his balance, he climbed through the broken out window of the door. He didn't have anything to step on as he stepped down, and the awkwardness made him stumble as he entered the room. He caught his balance on a table as his knee crashed on the floor of broken glass and wood. Billy Waters never winced, but jumped up and pulled his gun out all at the same time. Buddy looked down at his knee that had taken a small cut.
"Ain't no one ever gonna know the truth...." Frank continued to ramble on.
The Sheriff turned to Rudy and motioned for him to be quiet and with his gun ready, he walked as quietly as he could towards the hall. Each step though was amplified by the scratch of broken glass. Just as he got to the door of the hallway, he looked back at Rudy. The bat from the hallway hit Billy's head and Sheriff Waters never saw what hit him and knocked him unconscious.
When Joy had run into the house, she only knew of one place to hide and that was in her room under the bed. Time had seemed to stand still after she had found her way under the bed and placed a blanket in front of her. Curled up in a ball, she hoped it wouldn’t be evident where she was. Under the bed in the shadow that it created was a cool place of rest, but she didn't know for how long. Cocooned in the blanket she began to hear the bumps and jolts of the house as someone downstairs beat on the doors and made a commotion. Not distinct sounds, but ever coming closer and stronger. Again the distant but ever closer sounds of thumps and bangs as someone pounded on a door, all the while there was voice that raged in the background.
Jesus... Joy prayed to herself as she had heard her mama do so often. The words came out of her this time not in the spirit of playing church but with a heartfelt passion.
She heard glass begin to break, more threatening, a stumble and then nothing.
"Where are you?!" Frank screamed out. His steps and ranting were not something this old house kept quiet but could be heard by those in the yard. Frank started up the stairs, taking each step slow and deliberate but still with a step loud enough for anyone to hear inside. As he reached the top of the steps, he stood still, listened and looked around. He knew the only room up here was the loft bedroom of Joy’s.
Frank Little had been in this room before as he had been in this house before even before the Hand s moved here; he knew this house well. Although he had stayed with the Hands over and over many nights through the years at their other houses, Frank Little had been a part of this area of South Georgia for even longer, just like Buddy Hand had been, but he knew this house.
Clevon Littlefield years back had hanged himself in the very same room that Joy now slept in. The people of Chester always wondered if he had been helped in hanging himself, but no one dared to speak of it, not much anyway. No one had ever tried too hard to find out what the truth really was in the hanging death of Clevon. That was the times of the 50's and the death of a young black boy wasn't much for the people to get upset about, and most people really didn't care; they just wanted to make sure problems like that would never happen again, and hope they'd been dealt with and gone away.
"I remember this room just a little too well." Frank said to hims
elf out loud. He walked to the doorframe and looked inside the room, the same room he had been in some years before. He dropped the bat that he had been holding for some time and stepped as lightly as he could into the room and slowly looked from side to side. There was never a question as to where the little girl would be. For Frank there was nowhere else to be in the room except under the bed. This room had no closet and there were no access panels to the attic; just this attic room that had been converted into a bedroom.
"Joy, you might as well come on out, I know where you are," Frank said in a kind voice that belied the face of rage that he carried.
Frank paused for a moment to listen and he could hear Joy’s panted breathing underneath the bed. Kneeling down, he looked under the bed and was surprised to see a blanket pulled up to Joy's face with only her wide eyes staring back at him in fear.
"Uncle Frank, please don't...." Joy begged the enraged man whom she used to look at as a kind soul who would protect her.
"Joy, Uncle Frank don't mean to hurt you."
"I don't care, Uncle Frank, what you say. I don't want you around me. You scare me." Joyce said with a tremble in her voice as she backed into the corner of the room under bed as far as she could go.
Joy was so far under the bed and the bed so low that Frank Little could not grab the little girl from under the bed. He grabbed the bedposts and pulled the bed away from the wall to gain access to grab her from the topside. As he slid the bed, Joy moved and kept herself in the middle of the underside of the bed. He stooped back down rushed his hand up underneath from the side and realized he couldn't get her this way either. He strained and tried again as Joy continued to move and readjusted herself. Joy was now at the very head of the bed as it moved completely away from her. Now the distance was no match for a grown man to try to grab her.
"I'll just show you. I just pulled it out, and found a better way." Frank sneered.
Joy looked under the bed not knowing what the next few moments held. The only thing she could see were the hands and the knees of Frank Little as he began to start to stand. The next sound was all too familiar, as the sound of the chair moved and crashed with Frank Little's body slumped onto the floor. Joy stared at the face of Frank Little as he winced with pain and tried to lunge at her. Again the sound that was familiar to Joy but distinctly disturbing for Frank. The chair made another sound, a crash and fall and Frank fell to the floor again.
Joy realized this might be the only moment that she could scoot away and run out of the house. She looked down at Frank and his face at the end of the bed and realized that he was still awake but stunned. She began to crawl on her stomach away from the bed. She stood up and as she did, Frank shoved the bed towards her and knocked her down. Joy fell onto her backside at the top of the stairs, and she saw that Uncle Frank had pushed the bed in the way of the door, so that it partially blocked the way for him to try to lunge after her. She stood up and ran down the steps. As she ran, she turned to look at Frank and to her amazement, the chair made the sound again and she heard Uncle Frank fall to the floor. (All the while, as he worked his way toward the door of the room and towards Joy all the time).
Not knowing why she did it, Joy picked up the bat at the top of the stairs and carried it with her as she ran down the steps to the front door. She yanked and pulled, but it was locked. She looked around and noticed the feet of someone sticking out from the kitchen. She let out a scream out of fear and ran down the hall all the while she could hear Frank upstairs talking and the sound of a chair that kept making noises.
In the kitchen, she found the sheriff was slumped on his side on the kitchen floor amidst a lot of glass and broken wood. She stepped over the sheriff and ran to the back door, as she dropped the bat and yanked on the back door, but it was locked too. In the terror of moment, she never thought about the possibility of climbing out, she just realized she couldn't get out of the house. She took off to her next possible place of safety.
Chapter 17
Rudy had made his way to Clementine and Jackie at the patrol car. They all heard the scream from the back porch as they sat having given up the chase to get inside.
"Oh my God, Rudy, did you hear that? That evil Frank has found that little girl." The tremble of her voice gave way to tears as they came down her face.
"Mama, I'd try but I'm too banged up, and all he would do is kill me dead. I'm sorry, I don't know what to do. But, Mama, we got to do something." Rudy said as he struggled to stand.
"I figured he must've passed out since I hadn't heard anything but that scream told me different," Clementine said to Rudy as she was startled to hear the sound of someone at the door and then the steps of someone as they ran through the glass in the kitchen. She stood with her hand over her mouth as she saw blond curls run up to the back door of the kitchen. "Joy!" She screamed as loud as she could to get her attention, but she ran back inside the house to Clementine's horror.
Clementine said for Rudy to hear, "She's too scared to even realize I'm here, oh, God, help her." Clementine never thought about what she was about to do. She stood up and headed towards the back porch and the top of the wash bucket that was still at the back door; she pulled her long skirts up to her sides and climbed through the broken window of the door.
"Mama!" Jackie cried out.
"You hush, child. I've got to save our Joy. Now you just sit here with your daddy you take care of him."
"But, Mama...." Jackie mumbled.
Clementine didn't pay any attention to anything else that was said but threw her legs through the window frame to the place to where both of her legs hung through the door and her bottom was perched in the window. Just then, she took a deep long breath as she heard Frank Little coming down the hall still screaming that he wanted Joy to come to him.
Frank Little paused at the feet of the sheriff and kicked his foot to see if he was still knocked out never looking in the kitchen. The sheriff never moved. He paused for a moment at the door but never walked into the kitchen and headed down the hall to the only other room of the house, the bedroom of Buddy Hand to find his daughter.
Clementine watched as a slight glimpse of the backside of Frank Little slowly stumbled down the hall. She knew that Joy must have tried to hide herself somewhere in that bedroom. She tried to ease herself down on the floor, but she slipped and the whole of her weight hit the floor with a thud.
"Who's that?" Frank barked back down the hall.
Clementine never said a word, but like any mother was determined to have Frank fight her, instead of having him hurt Joy. She turned and tried to open the door and get back out, but it was still locked for some unknown reason. She glanced around to find something to use if he did come back but the closest thing to her was the bat that Joy had dropped.
"It's me!" Clementine screamed out. "Why don't you come in here and face someone who ain't afraid of you, you no good white trash Frank Little. You got a demon inside you, Frank Little!"
Frank walked back the couple of steps down the hall to the doorway of the kitchen. As he stumbled at the feet of Sheriff Waters, a kitchen chair slid across the room in his way and he stumbled again and fell to the floor.
Clementine watched in disbelief as the kitchen chairs moved across the floor and hit Frank again. "Oh my Jesus!" Frank grabbed a chair and fought to stand only to have another chair come at him as if in a whirlwind.
"I always said this house wasn't right, Lord Jesus." The bizarreness of the moment caused Clementine to freeze and instead of using the time to hit a stunned Frank Little, she never saw the chair that slid across the room and knocked her to the wall. Whether the hit was strong enough to knock her out, or the realization that some power was controlling the chairs had overcome her, she slid down the wall and watched in a stupor as the chairs began to whirl around the room. Clementine passed out from the shock and fear of it all and slumped over on the floor.
"Is that all you got...? CHAIRS!" Frank screamed out. "I ain't afraid of no chairs." Frank grabbed the fi
rst chair and thrashed it about and broke it. He continued to fight and stumble until the few chairs were broken wood instead of solid furniture. Frank was nicked and cut from some of the glass on the ground, which only caused his rage to become even stronger. As if in a mad trance, he thrashed and fought against the air, until he was certain that he was alone. He wiped the blood off his cut hands onto his clothes as he staggered back against the kitchen counter. He wiped his mouth and looked around to see if anything else in the house would attack.
A beat up father, a passed out mother, a bruised daughter, and hurt sheriff lay in the wake of Frank Little as he headed back down the hall.
Chapter 18
"How much farther till the house, Buddy."
"Maybe ten or so minutes, Mary, we'll be there as soon as we can. Sheriff should be there long before now." Buddy tried to reassure Mary that all her fears were just a figment of her imagination and her late night dreams.
"You just drive, Buddy. I want to get home and make sure my home's all right... and my Joy." Mary said and continued to wring her hands together as she looked out the window down the road.
Buddy's coke had done its work some time ago and the need to go to the bathroom had been powerful for many a mile, but Mary wouldn't let him stop even to go in the bushes on the side of the road. She'd told him, "You can go when we get home and I know everything is all right."
Buddy held his bladder as best as he could, as he held the gas pedal down. The bounce of the old truck didn't help his situation one bit, but it did give him all the more incentive to arrive at home as quickly as he possibly could.
Joy had hid under the bed in her parents’ bedroom for a moment and tried to find a place under there where Frank couldn't reach her. Her parent's bed was in the middle of the room, and from its size there was no place she could hide where someone couldn't reach her. She knew this from the times she had hid under it when her daddy or mama was gonna give her a whippin' and they reached under and drug her out.