Hawg

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Hawg Page 9

by Steven L. Shrewsbury


  Luella reached under her afghan in progress and pulled out a red blanket that covered her legs and midsection. “Here, baby, you go sleep for a spell.”

  Hawg rose up, stood on his hind legs and faced her. He took the blanket and lowered down. Hawg crawled under the deck and spread out the blanket. Down low, he flopped over on his side and was asleep in a minute.

  Luella humming a tune lulled him to sleep. Soon, Duke was out as well.

  ***

  When Lynne White returned home after the school board meeting, it didn’t take her long to add up the errors of the day. She checked messages, and called her grandmother. Each message was a new building block in horror as she realized Jordan wasn’t home…and by the calls from the Ellington’s, neither was Cassidy.

  She called the bindery office, unconcerned with the snippy lady Carol Brandt who worked there. Lynne flatly told her what an emergency it was and to get her husband from the production floor.

  The first thing Andrew did was tell Lynne what a load of crap it was they kept him over, as the work they wanted never had trickled in yet. When she explained the mistakes that led to Jordan being misplaced, or, being gone, Andrew dropped the phone and told the office woman, “I have to go. My son is missing.”

  Still snide, Carol said, “That’ll be a full occurrence, Mr. White.”

  Rage boiling, Andrew shot back, “Like I give a shit about that. My son comes first.”

  He stomped from the office and out onto production floor. Andrew never retrieved his lunch box or coat. He almost collided with pre press assistant Scott Grady. The bulbous neck of Grady flexed as Andrew nearly bowled him over. Andrew made no apologies and headed to his truck, never answering inquiries from various folk as to where he was going…save for Wilma Rynning. The portly woman was the brains on day shift, held the only copy of the employee handbook and would do anything for a pal.

  “Can I have your cell phone?” Andrew asked and then told her of his plight.

  Wilma fished in her purse and said, “Only if you wear those package friendly pants your wife doesn’t like to you to wear.” She smiled and gave him the phone. “When are you going to show me that big thing?”

  Desperate, Andrew smiled, “They day they walk me out of here.”

  Wilma handed him the phone. “There should be a half hour on it. I have minutes left and that is the back up I took from my daughter.”

  He thanked her and hurried away. Andrew hated leaving work, but it was as if none of it mattered. All he wanted was his son. The image of him crying the moment of his birth ran through Andrew’s mind as a dull fear permeated his flesh. Jordan screaming at his birth, him shitting coal black in the pan while they cleaned him up…him asking questions during the children’s sermon at church…him being scared of the Green Goblin at the movies…him saying “I love you, daddy.”

  Once out of the plant he called his brother Doug, who was already aware of the disappearance of Cassidy Ellington.

  Doug said, “Be a might odd if both kids were gone and not together, being neighbors and all.”

  Andrew shifted the truck, his voice far more full of concern than his brother’s. “Maybe they are just out playing in the waterways. Maybe we are just overreacting.”

  “Lucas and Lynne say the kid’s bikes are gone.”

  He thought fast. “Well, they couldn’t go far.”

  Doug agreed. “Sure. We’ve already went down the main roads just now. I have everyone out, Drew.”

  “I’ll swing down old 66 and come up that way, all right? I’ll hit the dirt roads as well.”

  “Calm down, Andrew. I’m sure it’s all right.”

  Andrew’s free hand gripped the steering wheel until his hand felt wet. He took a few breaths and said, “You ever find out what tore up Genesis or Andrea?”

  “No.”

  “Then I can’t calm down, for Christ’s sake. Of all days for them kids to be out wandering, Jesus God.”

  “I’m calling everyone off dayshift to come out to hunt, Andrew. I’m sure this will turn out okay. Matt is calling local farmers to see if they saw them.”

  Andrew closed the phone and took another breath.

  “I promised Jordan I’d always be there for him,” Andrew said to the cab of his truck. “Ain’t I a piss poor father?” When he turned onto Route 66, he caught a glimpse of Ambrose Brother’s plant behind him. He flipped the building off and drove on.

  The interior of his truck felt stifling. He reached over, picked up a napkin leftover from a fast food joint, and wiped his nose. Andrew rolled the window down and thought of putting on music or the radio. Nothing sounded right.

  “Wish I’d taken the Harley today,” he said, pondering how he hadn’t due to the cycle needing an oil change. “Wish that were my biggest worry now.”

  With no one to talk to but God, Andrew said nothing more.

  ***

  “No, I haven’t seen the children,” Mr. Solow said into the receiver, his voice softening as he spoke. “But I will go out and have a look around.” Earnest concern filled his tone as he said, “Yes, I’ll talk to Elias as well. God bless, and I hope you find them safe.” When he hung up the receiver, Solow stared across the room at his hired hand. Elias sat on a small bench at the end of the kitchen, looking into the living room. “What are you thinking, Elias?”

  The old man peered into his glass of lemonade and said, “Lots of things, sir. I’m thinkin’ I need something a might stronger than this, sir.”

  Solow rocked in his chair a few times and then slowly stood. “Silly children. Darn shame it is, you know? I hope they haven’t wandered into trouble.”

  “Oh, Mr. Solow, stop it,” Elias said, voice cracking, hand shaking so much the ice cubes in his drink rattled. He gripped the glass with his other hand to stop the action. “You know, if Hawg got ‘em…”

  “We don’t know that.”

  Anger in his voice, Elias fired back, “But what if he did?”

  Solow’s eyes aimed out the kitchen windows. “Then he did. It’s the way of the world, Elias. We are all sinners come short of the glory of God. Just because they are cute doesn’t make those kids any less guilty of original sin.”

  Elias got up fast, spilled a bit of his drink, and said, “Some of our sins are worse than others, sir.”

  Solow’s brows dropped. “I’ve paid a long penance for my sins, Elias.”

  “What ‘bout them little ones? They interest on your bad sins, huh?”

  Indignant, Solow replied, “What would you have me do, Elias? Call the police and confess to what? They’d think me mad.”

  Elias shook his head. “I don’t know what to do, sir. They tie Hawg to us, we all go down.”

  Solow relaxed and said, “Everyone has to die, Elias. Perhaps this is our time. Maybe this is God’s will to make me clean at last.”

  With a grunt, Elias said, “I’m going out for a look around for the kids and then for a drink sir. G’Night.”

  Solow watched him step out into the fading daylight. He peered across the property, but saw no children.

  ***

  After the sunlight started to fade, Jordan decided to climb out of the mine entrance. “We better go, Cassidy. We can’t be in here all night.”

  Cassidy barely let him go as Jordan started to get out of the mine’s opening. He hung out of the entrance, pulling her up after him. In a few seconds, they were free, but never left the opening. Ready to scramble back in at a moment’s notice, they held their ground.

  Jordan sniffed and said, “It’s gone.”

  “I hope so,” Cassidy said, hardly above a whisper, still afraid to shift until Jordan pulled her.

  Their steps were slow as they checked the area under the trestle. With caution, they picked up their bikes and climbed on them. They never left, still afraid of what could be nearby.

  “I heard someone out here with it,” Cassidy said, scanning the ditches. “I don’t see anyone.”

  Also looking around, Jordan said, “We bet
ter get home. God knows what time it is. My Mom will kill me.”

  Just as they were about to head east, they stopped, hearing the approach of a vehicle. The screech of tires was deafening and both children nearly screamed. Soon after, the shout from a man was nearly as frightening as the howl of the beast.

  “Jordan!” came the voice.

  Both children felt relief as they saw it was Mr. White. When he ran over and embraced them, they couldn’t understand why he was crying.

  He hadn’t seen the monster.

  CHAPTER SIX Discoveries

  Mr. Solow poured himself a glass of home made wine in a glass shaped like a barrel. The wine’s color was bright red and in tune with the beets & potato mash Elias used to create it. The taste strong, Solow never winced at the flavor. It flowed down over his chest and he walked over to his tape cases, trying to decide on a topic. He drank more and enjoyed the feeling inside.

  When his phone rang, he took another step, a sip of wine and furrowed his brows at the caller ID slot.

  “God bless technology,” Solow muttered as he picked up the phone. “Hello there, Solow residence.”

  “Evening, Mr. Solow,” came the sweet voice on the line.

  “To what do I owe this pleasure? Do you have enough supper tonight?”

  “Oh, plenty, dear, but was wanting to share a little nugget with you.”

  “Naughty girl. You always were a tale bearer.”

  “Can you guess who is sleeping under my deck?”

  Brows elevated, Solow swallowed and thought for a moment before he replied, “Huh. Elias just went out to poke around and drink…”

  The woman on the line laughed until she snorted and said, “Silly man. Old Hawg is sleeping deep, Mr. Solow. I fear he’s been a bad boy.”

  Solow nodded to no one, index finger running around the mouth of his glass of wine. “I reckon he has. It’s his nature. He’s a pig.”

  “Too bad you couldn’t get him back to his home tonight, sweety.”

  Solow thought of that, but it seemed like an unlikely enterprise. Too bad he didn’t take a tranquilizer gun, shoot Hawg and use the end loader to scoop him up and lock him in the round barn again. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a tranquilizer gun and the end loader was low on fuel until Friday’s delivery to the tank.

  “Thank you for the call, Luella.”

  “Trying to look out for the boy, Mr. Solow.”

  “You done well, hon. I reckon Hawg will come home when he wants, though. No brow beatin’ is gonna make it happen sooner.”

  “Night, Mr. Solow.”

  “G’night and God bless, Luella.”

  Solow hung up the phone, took a drink and selected a sermon called the WRATH OF GOD. After he placed the tape in the stereo he sat down in his rocker/recliner and drank some more.

  “I’m sure we’ve all heard messages about the grace of God and the love of God, but how many sermons have we really made concerning the wrath of God? While not a comfortable topic, let me assure you, my dear friends, that his wrath is as real as his love, mercy and charity.”

  Solow refilled his glass and rocked to the voice of the preacher man.

  “Jesus asked, what will it profit a man if he gained the whole world and lost his own soul? He was not looking for an answer, though, for He knows the answer. He IS the answer! He knows where all of the wealth of the world is, every diamond, nugget of gold, and pool of oil. But he knows something you don’t! He knows how long eternity is and how dark it will be without him. Your mind cannot comprehend a million years, nor imagine fifty billion years. The man who would trade his soul for the wealth of this world is a fool!”

  “Consider the value of your soul. Your one little soul was the reason Jesus came to Earth, incarnated as a lowly human being, where He died for you. Your soul was the reason the Son of the Almighty God allowed Herod’s men to spit on Him, whip Him and mock Him when they said, ‘Hail! King of the Jews!’ It was the reason Jesus was taken to the top of Calvary, where the created drove nails through the hands of their Creator. It made him separate from his Father in that moment when he became the ultimate sacrifice for sin and exclaimed, ‘MY GOD, MY GOD, WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME?’ He bled, suffered, and died alone for the redemption of each of your little souls!”

  ***

  Lynne cried one moment and was full of anger the next at Jordan for his absence. Both Andrew and Lynne couldn’t let him go though, same as the Ellington family with their daughter.

  The reunion took place at the cemetery’s edge, though the kids refused to go back inside. In front of Douglas White and his officers, the kids told the tale of seeing a giant pig-man. They then told what he did to the mine entrance. Alex reported to them that something had been there all right and Matt found more tracks in the muddy areas of the ditch by the trestle.

  “Pig man?” Doug questioned and listened to their tale thoughtfully. Alex and Matt went into the cemetery and returned fast. Doug dismissed the kids to their homes with their families. Andrew stayed near his brother. He walked with the police past the teen’s car.

  “Ever hear such a thing?” Andrew said, his voice full of wonder and relief.

  Doug took the toothpick from his mouth and snapped it in half as he shook his head. “That’s kids for you. My son tells me of an army of trolls under the bridge down the way he sees all the time. Kids.”

  “It’s the steel tusks that makes it all crazy,” Andrew said. “What are they…seeing…” His words fell off a cliff as he saw the ruined bodies near the crypt illuminated by flashlights from Alex and Matt.

  After he pulled out a flashlight of his own, Doug gave the bodies a once over and called on his radio. Still in plain clothes, Alex stayed away from the scene, looking ready to vomit again. He placed his hand on the statue of Jesus by the shrubs and used it to balance himself and his guts.

  Doug told him, “Run along home, Alex. Rest up. Tomorrow will be a long day.”

  Face flushed, he nodded and left the cemetery.

  “Jesus Christ,” Andrew said, staring at the ruined bodies. “A giant pig man did this, huh? Cute.”

  Matt frowned and said, “Looks like it anyways. See, how there is a furrowed rut down the bodies, just like Andrea?”

  Doug grimaced, his light following the path of the slashes, then stopping on the spot where pieces of meat hung off thighbones. “Slots for the steel tusks? Mighty hard to accept, boys. More likely some tool or weapon of a killer. I’d rather hunt a wild boar than a serial killer. Pig man…”

  Andrew half laughed. “That’s all crazy talk, no matter how fucked up these bodies appear.”

  Matt pointed at a few of the stones, light dancing over brown splashes on the granite effigies. “Sure looks like pigshit around here, smells like it as well. Isn’t pig shit supposed to be mostly water? I recall hearing that somewhere.”

  With a rub to his right temple, Doug said, “Still hoping for wild boar, though. I know what the kids said.” He made a weak laugh and said, “Christ, fellows, I don’t know what to make of it for real. It has to be a crazy guy of some kind, Andrew. Better thank God Jordan remembered Pa’s old tale about the mineshaft entrance. Fast thinking for certain.”

  Andrew glared at the family crypt where his weapons laid and the broken gate. He stepped inside and observed the coffins. These objects didn’t appear disturbed. “Yeah, thank God.” He knelt, noting smudges of feces and blood on the lower sections of the coffins.

  ***

  Alex grabbed for the bottle of whiskey under the front seat of his police cruiser. The car edged out of the cemetery as he opened the bottle. Once on Old 66, he upended the best thing Tennessee had to offer. It burned going down and he didn’t stop, all of the images crowding in on him. Worse than the broken body of Andrea and the torn up pit bull, that punk kid Bruce had been gnawed on. The bones were even missing in spots. Whatever ate his flesh had chewed and pulverized bone as well. What serial killer or human could do that? A quarter mile away, he stopped and puked all over the
patched pavement on the highway.

  He called a few Miller’s Fork city cops, alerting them to the crisis at hand. Alex drank again, cherries on top of his car to provide a wide berth. He then called a few friends to let it all out. Tears streamed down his face as Alex even talked to his mother for a few minutes, but never confessed to his greater fears or weakness.

  He drove and drank, not knowing what to think of it all. None of the other police, his friends or even his mother could provide solace for him. His courage wasn’t as strong as the other men, but he liked being a cop. It was regular, safe work in these parts. Miller’s Fork had its share of minor scuffles, but it was nothing a former football player like Alex couldn’t handle. He enjoyed being a county deputy and it beat working as a guard at the prison or a grunt in the printing plant. He met his ticket quota and enjoyed the rides better than working in that damned plant, which Alex had done in summers after high school. That was enough to convince him a greener pasture existed elsewhere. Never would he have dreamed this would happen.

  Alex saw death on the highways and kids mangled after a country-drinking binge ended badly. These things twisted his guts. This thing that was happening was beyond that.

  Of course, it was all-insane to think of a pig man creature like the kids swore to. He kept telling himself that they were just kids, but in the back of his mind something nagged. His grandmother and her relatives had the second sight, or intuition. Alex’s mother still had prophetic dreams. None of the family thought much of their premonitions since their Apostolic Christian faith looked down on such things. Alex never was much of a seer, but he had strange feelings, and ever since they found Dinsdale and Andrea, his stomach wasn’t right. With the revelation of the children, it seemed to fit in his mind with what was wrong. Now, he couldn’t deal with that truth.

  Alex crossed the countryside a few times and then caught a whiff of the Solow place. He slammed on breaks, nearly losing his handle on the bottle.

  Suddenly, he knew what to think of it all.

  ***

  Hux rode to the Green Parrot tavern that most biker types frequented in town. A loop of the original route of Old 66 had once snaked past this business at the edge of Miller’s Fork. In the seventies, just before the interstate came in, the route adjusted. The section of town where the biker bar resided was home to a recycling center and a junkyard, a metal garage converted to a Pentecostal church and the VFW hall shielding a louse-ridden trailer park. It was a spot few went to that didn’t belong there. Hux parked his Harley in line next to the other motorbikes. Across the front of this line was a hitching post like in the old western movies. The original owner of the business, Larry Myers, installed that as a gag. Now, after years of weathering, the wood appeared more authentic than Larry ever planned.

 

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