Broken Branch

by John Mantooth

  “Who else?”

  Trudy pulled her arm away. “I hope you find the courage one day,” she said and headed back toward home.

  “Wait,” he said.

  She turned, impatient.

  “I know where your children are.”

  37

  “Rachel?”

  “Eugenia told me she’s staying with them. Otto figured it was the last place you’d look.” Ben stepped a little closer to her. “I ain’t supposed to tell you. But I’m doing it even though I’m afraid.”

  “Thank you, Ben.” She took a quick look around to make sure no one was nearby. She leaned in and kissed him hard on the mouth.

  The demon told her to.

  38

  She waited until the next night, lying in bed awake, pretending to be sleeping. James seemed restless, but she lay still, trying to keep her breathing even. At some point, she really did fall asleep because when she woke up, she was alone in the bed.

  Slipping through the woods, she came to the meadow where the unfinished church stood. She’d been surprised when Ben told her Rachel had taken Mary and Rodney to stay in the church, but he’d only shrugged and muttered something about Otto needing his space at home. She was pleased to see that the roof was finished, though she knew one side of the church was still under repair from one of the first storms that spring.

  If anyone besides Rachel had been with her children, she might have been able to stay away, but the woman seemed so vile to Trudy, she felt an almost overpowering need to see Mary and Rodney, to hold them in her arms, to verify beyond a shadow of a doubt that they were okay.

  She stood off in the trees silently, watching the church for a long time. When she felt confident that no one inside was awake, she crept to the front door and pushed it open.

  She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw both of them sleeping on the floor behind the last pew that the men had installed. Quickly, she scanned the unfinished sanctuary for any sign of Rachel. She counted seven pews lined up before the altar, an ornate affair that she was sure Otto had demanded. Behind the altar, moonlight shone through the stained glass James and Otto had purchased on their trip to Atlanta the previous year. It would be a beautiful church, Trudy thought, but she couldn’t help but wish it had been torn apart by the last storm.

  Satisfied that Rachel wasn’t nearby, she moved quietly inside and knelt near Mary first. Shaking her gently, she pressed her index finger against Mary’s lips to quiet her.

  “Momma?”

  Trudy laid her whole hand over Mary’s mouth. “Be quiet,” she whispered and then moved her hand.

  “I want to come home, Momma.”

  “Sssh, I know, baby. I know. Soon.” She brushed back Mary’s hair. So young, too young, thankfully, to make any sense out of what was happening. If Trudy could get her out in time, she might yet have a chance at a normal life.

  “Have they been kind to you?” she said.

  But Mary was already sleeping. She kissed her again and slid over to Rodney.

  He was awake, watching her.

  Smiling, she kissed his face. “Are you okay?” she whispered.

  “You’re not supposed to be here,” he said.

  “I’m only here because I miss you.”

  He nodded. “I miss you too.”

  That made her heart leap, and for an instant all of her troubles were gone.

  “The spells?” she said.

  He grinned. “I think they’re gone. I’ve been praying. Otto’s been teaching me about how to pray, and that if you just believe enough everything will be okay.” He paused and reached for her, hugging her close. “I’ve been praying for you too, Momma. I’ve been believing real hard that you would get right with God.”

  Trudy struggled to take this in. Otto had been spending time with him? One-on-one time? She resisted the urge to gather both of them up right now and make a run for it. That wasn’t the way. Not this time. She needed a calmer, more rational approach.

  She gritted her teeth and said, “Thank you, Rodney. The prayer worked. It really did.”

  “When can I come home? I like Rachel, but she leaves us alone sometimes, and I get scared. I miss you.” And then, almost as an afterthought: “And Papa.” He hesitated. “Sometimes I see Papa.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He comes here. He won’t come in. He stands outside the church. I see him in the moonlight. He was here tonight.”

  Trudy couldn’t think of any reason why this would be, but she didn’t want to doubt Rodney, at least not openly, so she hugged him again and said, “I’m sure he’s coming to see you.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  She squeezed him more tightly.

  “If you want to come home, tell Otto. Tell him you miss me. Tell him that you’ve prayed for me, and that God has answered your prayers.”

  “It’s true,” he said, smiling.

  She kissed his forehead. “And if you feel a spell coming on, get off by yourself in the woods, okay? Promise Momma that.”

  He looked at her funny then, like he couldn’t quite recognize her in the dark. “Momma, what do you mean? If I have another spell, it means God has rejected me. Hiding won’t do no good.”

  Trudy felt like crying then. She felt like doing a great many things, but she only nodded. “Of course, baby.”

  She kissed him again and got up.

  “I’ll tell Otto you’re ready, Momma.”

  She couldn’t answer him because she was sobbing and couldn’t even find the breath to speak.

  She closed the door lightly behind her. She’d turned and started down the steps when she ran into a man standing in her path.

  “Who—”

  A hand gripped her arm.

  “You’re crying.”

  She tried to focus through her tears. It was G.L. She breathed a sigh of relief.

  “I’m okay. You shouldn’t be here.”

  “Well, I could say the same for you.”

  “What do you know about it?”

  “Oh, G.L. sees it all at night. They said I couldn’t stay. They kicked me out, but what they don’t understand is that I come here to die, and when a man comes to a place to die, there’s no moving him.” He looked at her closely, as if reading what lay behind her eyes. “You know about that, don’t you?”

  “What? I don’t understand.”

  “You will.” He gripped her a little more tightly. “Just remember sometimes the gator gets the better of us, and the important thing is that we stood toe-to-toe with it and fought. And when it tears into you good and the angry pieces inside you burst out and rain down fire from the sky, you’ve still got that beating heart. He might kill you, Trudy, but don’t you let him eat that heart.”

  He let go of her and she watched him, stunned, as he made his way across the clearing and back into the woods.

  She glanced back at the church only once, overwhelmed with the demon’s desire.

  She wanted to burn it. Burn it to the ground.

  39

  The children were returned to her at Sunday service. Otto, never one to miss a chance to make a speech, talked for a long time about how much God had changed Trudy’s heart, how her own boy—once afraid of her—had come to Otto and said he had prayed for his mother and he had “no doubt” that God’s cleansing blood had fallen over her.

  When Trudy came up to receive her children, she made sure she was smiling. Otto held their hands before placing them in Trudy’s. “If you could, Sister Trudy, speak of your journey to the congregation.”

  She’d been hoping for this opportunity. “A few weeks ago, I was lost. Now, thanks to the prayers of this community, I am found. I want to thank Otto and my husband, James. I want to thank Broken Branch. And I’m very grateful Otto allowed me to speak.”

  The congregation shouted “amen
” and began to clap.

  Trudy felt the demon inside her stomach, its powerful tail beating against her insides, and it made her feel nauseous. She swallowed hard and kept smiling.

  Make them believe you, she thought. And then the betrayal will be more powerful.

  She returned to her spot in the grass with Mary and Rodney beside her. James was up front with Otto, and he struck up a tune on the guitar. The congregation stood and sang “Amazing Grace,” and Trudy thought how little grace there was to be found here.

  40

  One more thing happened before the service ended. During the prayer requests, Hank Burnside raised his hand.

  “Brother Hank,” Otto said. “Speak.”

  Hank—one of the older men in Broken Branch, and typically very quiet—pushed himself to his feet.

  “Brother Otto, some of us have been talking about the activity that goes on in the clearing at night.”

  Otto raised his eyebrows. “What activity?”

  Hank coughed. “I don’t sleep well on account of my breathing. When I lie down I go to coughing, so some nights I sit by the window or out on the porch. There’s folks up and moving at night. Going here and there. It don’t seem very Christian to do what needs doing in the dark. Folks should be in bed, sleeping.” He coughed. “Or at least trying to sleep.”

  There was general murmuring among the congregation. Otto held up his hands. “Well, there are those among us—Brother James, for instance—that find that evenings are the best times to be alone with God. I hardly think this could be considered sinful, Hank. I think—”

  “He’s not the only one,” Hank said. “I’ve seen others.”

  Otto held out his hands. “As I said, some folks find it conducive. I’m more of a morning person myself.”

  “It don’t seem right!” Franklin said loudly. “I say things done in the dark are sinful. Maybe this is why we’ve struggled with the storms so long.”

  The congregation broke into a chorus of accusations and denials.

  “Okay then,” Otto said, and Trudy delighted in the way he seemed to squirm at this new development. “I’ll enact a curfew for the next few weeks while I investigate.” His face shifted to a smile. “Now, let’s thank the Lord for his many blessings.”

  The rest of the service went like normal, but Trudy couldn’t concentrate on either the singing or the message. She kept thinking of something Otto had said. Some folks find it conducive. I’m more of a morning person myself.

  So if Otto was sleeping, where was James going?

  41

  Trudy pretended to sleep for the next several nights. On the third night, she felt the mattress shift and knew James was getting up. She thought about confronting him, to see what lie he’d tell, but she decided against it. She lay very still until she heard the back door close.

  She was up instantly after that, pulling on a work dress and putting on her boots. Slipping out the back, she stood listening.

  The night was quiet. James was careful, but she couldn’t imagine him being quiet enough to escape her on a night like this.

  She didn’t move, listening. She felt herself pulsing out into the night, and every sound was available to her, or to the demon, which was wide awake in her belly and abnormally still. When the stick cracked underneath a boot, she placed the sound well past Ben’s house. He was moving fast.

  She did the same, careful to make her step light and to avoid the sight lines from nearby houses. There was no telling who watched.

  Ducking into the woods, she continued toward the sound she’d heard. That was when she saw him standing in the shadows behind Hank Burnside’s house. Suddenly there was a scattering of underbrush as another figure broke out of the woods and stood next to him.

  Rachel.

  “Are you sure?” she said.

  “Completely,” James said. Then he leaned in and kissed her.

  When they broke the kiss, she said, “What about Trudy? Seems like we’re working out of order.”

  “Soon enough. We have to take care of some things first. She doesn’t have a will.”

  “So? There’s no law out here but the Lord’s.”

  He kissed her again, harder, more urgently. “I know, but God showed me that this has to be done right.”

  “Like He showed you that we had to be together?”

  James nodded solemnly. “It’s only right that I take care of you. You’re Otto’s wife.”

  She flashed him a wicked grin, and Trudy felt befuddled by it all. Clearly James had been cheating on her with Rachel, but what wasn’t so clear was if he felt justified in doing this or was simply playing some game with his lover. Seeing the sober look on his face, she was betting on the former, and this, she realized, was by far the more frightening of the two.

  “Did you bring it?” he said.

  “It’s against the tree,” she said, pointing off into the shadows, not too far from where Trudy crouched. “But I don’t know why we need it.”

  “God told me. It’s fulfillment of Otto’s prophecy.”

  Rachel nodded, as if this explained everything.

  “Go on, knock.”

  James stepped away, back into the shadows. He stopped just a few feet from where Trudy was, so close, she could hear him breathing, could smell his familiar sweat scent. Except this time it was different, and she couldn’t say exactly how.

  Rachel knocked on the back door and waited. She turned around and looked at James. He nodded. She knocked again.

  Trudy couldn’t move. She wanted to warn Helen and Hank, but she also didn’t want to give herself away. She decided to wait. To see what was going on. Once she was sure, she’d do whatever it took, she promised herself. The demon in her belly twisted in anticipation.

  Rachel knocked a third time. This time, the door swung open after a few moments.

  It was Hank.

  “It’s late. I’m sleeping,” he said.

  “I know, and I wouldn’t have come except for Otto sent me,” Rachel said in that false sweet voice. “He wants you to see something.”

  “What?”

  “It’s over here.” She pointed at the trees opposite of where James waited.

  It happened so fast, Trudy barely had time to register it. James sprung from the nearby trees and swung a hatchet. It gleamed in the moonlight and the reflected light hit Trudy’s eyes and blinded her. She felt dizzy and braced herself against a tree to keep her balance.

  The sound of it striking flesh was the worst, and Trudy kept hearing it even after it was over. The clean whistle as it flew through the air, broken suddenly by a stiff, wet crunch as it met resistance. Him grunting as he pulled the hatchet out and swung again and again until there was no resistance and the head had been severed from Hank’s body.

  The head landed in the grass near James’s feet. The body stood there a second longer before the knees gave way and it fell softly onto the ground.

  Rachel moaned. Trudy looked away to keep from vomiting. When she looked back, James was dragging Hank’s torso into the trees. “Get his wife out here,” he said.

  But there was no need to get her. She already stood in the doorway, her mouth open in a silent scream.

  Trudy knew how she felt. Try as she might, no sound came from her lungs. She was simply too stunned to make a sound.

  42

  By the time Trudy finally felt her lungs come back under her own control, it was too late to scream. Too late for Helen and Hank. Too late for James too, she realized, but maybe not for Trudy. Maybe not for Rodney and Mary.

  43

  Later, after following them silently through the woods, Trudy watched them twisting the willow branches around Hank’s body, until it was as if he were in a cocoon. Except no butterfly would emerge on the other side. Instead, he would rot there among the willow branches, a false warning to all who gazed upon his s
pinning corpse. When they finished, and he bobbed—headless—next to Simpson, James picked up his head, weighing it in his hand before they tied several branches around it so that it hung like a moss-covered stone.

  “I’ll bring his wife back on my own. You go inside and write a note. Tell the truth about how they were planning on leaving.”

  Trudy didn’t hear what Rachel said because they walked off, and their voices were drowned out in the distance. Besides, something had caught her attention. The hatchet lay on the ground, beneath the spinning bodies.

  She forced herself not to look at poor Simpson swinging in the breeze or Hank, whose head seemed to dip and nod. She picked up the hatchet and, when she did, she felt the demon shift inside her. It began to climb up the walls of her belly, and it was slippery and hot and it grew. This was what it had been waiting on. This moment.

  She reached as high as she could and slammed the hatchet into a nearby elm. Then she pulled herself up and began to climb.

  44

  Later, when Trudy had almost given up that James would return, and the sight of the two bodies wrapped in the willow had caused her to shut her eyes tightly and think of the swamp, she finally heard the sound of him coming, dragging Helen’s body behind him.

  She opened her eyes and saw him standing near the willow tree, Helen’s body lying on the ground beside him.

  He sighed heavily. “Where’s that hatchet?”

  Trudy tensed. The demon was in her throat now. It could come out of her mouth anytime, but she realized now that wasn’t its goal. Instead, it climbed higher, oozing into her sinus cavities and further up toward her brain. It slithered around, testing the hardness of her skull before settling into the soft refuge of her brain.

  It told her what to say.

  “You never believed any of it, did you?”

  James turned quickly. “Who’s there?”