Broken Branch

by John Mantooth

  She smiled. He thought she was behind him.

  “Trudy?”

  “Just answer the question,” she said. “I thought you believed, but it was all a lie.”

  “Trudy, I don’t know where you are or what you think you saw, but I’m a God-fearing man. These bodies were here when I arrived. The Lord woke me up out of my sleep and told me to come here.”

  “I’ve got a demon in me,” she said.

  “Trudy, you’re talking crazy. Are you in the tree?” He craned his neck, trying to look through the branches, but it was dark, and she knew she was well camouflaged.

  “You put it in me,” she said. “You and Otto with your lies and deceit. You hurt people like that. You say you’re godly but then you go and kill and fuck and put demons in people. If there’s a God, He’s turned His back on this place.”

  “I’m only doing what has to be done, Trudy. I knew you wouldn’t understand. I won’t see Otto’s prophecies go unfulfilled. God’s work isn’t always pleasant. If you’d just come down and listen to me.”

  “You’re afraid,” she said, suddenly sure that it was his fear, his deep-seated fear, not his faith at all that had caused him to act like this.

  James stepped back as if he’d been physically punched, and she knew she was right.

  “Trudy, if you’ll just come down from there, we can work this out.” He leaned over, gazing up into the tree, trying to spot her. “We can talk it out. Otto will know what to do with your de—”

  He never finished the rest. She came down.

  45

  Once it was over, she lay in the grass, breathing, looking at the stars, which seemed streaked and blurred across the sky. It would have been easy, she realized, to stay here for a long time, to wait until morning, to wait until someone found her.

  The demon was gone, and without it, she felt weak and tired, and full of reasons why she would fail.

  Except, maybe it had never been a demon at all. Hadn’t G.L. said there was no such thing? She couldn’t remember, but it seemed like he’d said something like that once, and the more she thought on it, the more she realized that the demon had just been the part of her that had to act, just like the demon in James had been his fear of losing control, of discovering that his entire life had been built on a sham.

  A sham.

  No demons, no God. Just people.

  And the swamp. That was something. She’d been there. She wouldn’t allow herself to doubt that she hadn’t.

  This got her back up on her feet, and she stared up into the branches of the willow tree—the ones untouched by the bodies—and saw the stars between them. They fell once, long ago, she thought. Only God could make that happen. She closed her eyes and prayed for strength, but for the first time, Trudy realized she wasn’t praying to James’s God or Otto’s, but G.L.’s God of the swamp. Her God.

  When she opened her eyes, she started moving and didn’t slow down until the job was finished.

  46

  She took Hank down and dragged him and his wife as far away as she could drag them. She shoved them deep in a rolling mess of kudzu, where she felt sure they’d never be found. After that, she came back to do the hard part.

  She used the hatchet to hack away willow branches, taking care to pull them as close to the ground as possible before cutting them. Once her arms ached from the effort, she laid them on the ground and used them to roll James’s body up. Then she dragged him off into some nearby underbrush and pushed him in as deeply as she could.

  She stood back, satisfied that no one would notice, especially when they’d be looking in the tree for Hank’s and Helen’s bodies.

  The last thing she did before leaving the clearing and the willow tree was to retrieve the hatchet. She held it up to the moonlight to make sure there were still bloodstains on it. She was pleased to see that there were. She tucked it under her arm and ran back to Broken Branch.

  47

  Trudy headed straight for Otto’s house, moving cautiously because she knew Rachel might still be out. She waited in the trees behind their house with the hatchet until it seemed safe to make her move. Then she sprinted over to the back of the house and pushed the hatchet underneath the little porch where Otto liked to sit in the morning and have his devotionals. She didn’t push it too far because she wanted to make sure it could be found easily.

  Afterward, she bathed in the creek and threw her dress in the undergrowth. She went back home naked, feeling a sense of freedom, knowing James wouldn’t be in the house when she returned. He’d never be in the house again. She’d beaten him, and tomorrow she’d beat Otto.

  48

  The next morning, she told Rodney and Mary that their father was gone.

  “Gone?” Rodney said.

  “He left. He got up in the middle of the night and said he was leaving.”

  “He’s going to die,” Rodney said. “Papa’s going to die.”

  “You don’t know that,” she said. “Some folks leave and live.”

  But that wasn’t really true, was it? Trudy thought.

  49

  After breakfast and before everyone left for their morning chores, Trudy stopped by Otto’s house. He and Rachel were finishing up breakfast and invited her in.

  “I’m so glad things are improving for you, Sister Trudy,” Rachel said.

  “Oh, indeed,” she said, grinning. “They are improving a lot.”

  “And what brings you here so early?” Otto asked.

  “I’d like you to call everyone together this evening.”

  Otto looked a little startled. It wasn’t something other people did. He was always the one who called meetings.

  “It’s very important. I had a dream, well, a vision, and God has put it on my heart to share it with the community.”

  “Well . . .”

  “It’s about the storms. It’s about the future of this place.” She leaned in close. “It’s about Simpson.”

  He straightened up a little. “What is there to know about these things? Simpson dishonored God by leaving. The storms are no threat to us now.”

  “What if I told you that there was a person who walked among us who had been possessed by a demon?”

  “I’d demand proof,” he said. “That’s a dangerous accusation.”

  “Then I’ll give you proof tonight. Call the meeting.”

  He looked reluctant, but she sensed he was too curious not to call it. She was right. He nodded at last and said, “Six o’clock.”

  “And please, let’s don’t bring the children. It’s not something they’ll understand.”

  50

  By noon, the sky was growing dark. Trudy looked up at it nervously while washing clothes down by the creek. She didn’t need a storm messing up her plans. It was the one thing, she decided, that could.

  When she went back at lunch, the community was buzzing with the news of Hank and Helen’s departure. A group—including Otto—were heading out to the willow tree to see their bodies. They were that sure, just as she’d anticipated.

  After she fed Rodney and Mary some lunch, she sent them out to play and walked over to Ben’s house. He answered on the second knock.

  “Can you meet me somewhere to talk?” she said.

  He nodded.

  “The creek in five minutes.”

  He closed the door and Trudy started down toward the creek. She stood, thinking about the owl she’d seen fly away a few nights before. It was all she wanted. To get out of here. No, that wasn’t quite true. She wanted to go back to the swamp. It was the one place where she could feel the presence of God. That was the best thing about it. She was alone there, but she didn’t feel alone. There was a greater presence and that greater presence gave her the hope that one day all the work she was doing here would be worth it.

  When Ben showed up, he seemed nervous, but also happy to be al
one with Trudy. She resisted the urge to kiss him, to tell him that James was dead and Otto would be gone soon. She wasn’t sure he was ready.

  “What’s going on?” he said.

  “Tonight, something big is happening.”

  “You had a vision?”

  She nodded. “I might need you to help me.”

  He looked at his feet, shaking his head. “I don’t know, Trudy, it depends on what it is. Can you tell me?”

  “No, because I don’t know what it’ll be. I might need you to be the voice of reason if things start to go badly.”

  “The voice of reason?” He looked up at the darkening sky. “I got a bad feeling about this, Trudy.”

  She reached out and grabbed his arm. “If you live in fear, Ben, that’s not really living. That gator you asked me about earlier: He can be beaten. He can be killed. You just can’t be afraid.”

  Just then a blast of thunder rocked the woods. Trudy and Ben both jumped in surprise.

  She squeezed him more tightly. “I need you, Ben. I need you to believe in me.”

  He nodded, but she couldn’t be sure what he’d do when the time came. She let go. “Thank you.”

  “Trudy,” he said, “what’s going to happen?”

  “I don’t know for sure, but it’ll change everything. For better or worse, it’ll change everything.”

  51

  There was a general malaise surrounding Otto by the time six P.M. rolled around. He’d lost two members of Broken Branch and God had not left their bodies at the willow tree. Their note was clear. They were leaving. Trudy had seen the note: Rachel had even added a part about them not believing that God would punish them for wanting to start a better life.

  Trudy could tell Otto wanted to say something about this very badly. He was pacing beneath the oak tree, muttering to himself. To make matters worse for Otto, his right-hand man was nowhere to be found.

  The rain started, a steady downpour backed by some lightning and thunder, but no one seemed too concerned. Trudy wondered if it was just an act. Worrying was a sign of weakness, so much so, that she suspected many would stand in the pouring rain just to prove their faith.

  As the congregation gathered, Trudy kept a special eye out for Mary and Rodney. She needed them to stay in the house. The less they knew about what was about to happen, the better.

  Otto called the meeting to order. He spoke first about Hank and Helen.

  “As many of you know, Hank and Helen have left. For whatever reason—for the moment—God has allowed them to do so. However, I have no doubt His vengeance will be served. I will check the willow tree daily, and with great anticipation, until I see the consequences of their sins.”

  He stepped forward and looked closely at the congregation. Trudy stood off to the side where James normally stood, and it occurred to her that she was assuming his role in more ways than one. Not only was she standing in his spot, she was also prepared to deceive everyone to get what she wanted. Her freedom.

  James had deceived for power, and Trudy hoped that in this case the ends justified the means.

  Otto was still going on about how foolish it had been for the Burnsides to leave. She looked at the congregation. They weren’t suspicious yet. That was her job. If he ever let her speak.

  After several more minutes of prayer and speaking, the wind picked up. The rain fell harder. Thunder shook the trees.

  Hurry, Trudy thought, before everyone is forced to run home.

  “And the other reason I called you here today is to listen to Sister Trudy. Her time in the shelter has helped her. I’m sure she’ll be willing to explain the dangers of leaving as well, considering she almost suffered God’s wrath a short time ago for that very thing.”

  Trudy stepped forward.

  “That’s right, Brother Otto. Leaving Broken Branch is a very dangerous thing. Speaking of which, has anybody seen my husband?”

  There was a low murmur in the crowd.

  Otto stepped forward again. “James has gone into town on an errand for me. He’ll return soon enough.”

  Perfect. Trudy couldn’t have planned it any better.

  “Well, I’m not sure about that,” she said.

  “About what?”

  “Him being in town.”

  Otto smiled. “Don’t have your feelings hurt, Trudy. He can’t tell you everything. Some of the things we do are secret.”

  “You can say that again.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Say it again. That some of the things you do are secret.”

  Otto shook his head in frustration. “You said this was important. It’s intolerable to waste time.”

  Trudy looked up into the oncoming rain. Behind it, the sky had grown darker. She shouldn’t waste any more time, but she was enjoying this too much not to linger in the moment.

  “I know where James is,” she said.

  “So do I,” Otto said again. “I sent him to town. For a new hoe and shovel.”

  “Did everybody hear that?” Trudy said.

  The congregation nodded. Somebody said, “I heard it.”

  “Good. Because I think it’s important that we always hear what our leaders have to say.”

  She looked at Otto. He wasn’t going to tolerate much more of this. She had to turn the tables quickly.

  “I had a dream last night,” she said. “A vision. God came to me and said that I was once very lost, but now I would shine the light on the truth.”

  “The truth?” Otto said.

  “The truth.”

  “Please do shine, sister.”

  Trudy smiled. “Most of you know that Hank and Helen left last night. Most of you also know that God seems to have ignored His promise about people leaving Broken Branch.”

  “God works in His own time, Trudy,” Otto said.

  “That’s true, Brother Otto. I’ve found that in my own life. Once, I was a seeker, and then I was a nonbeliever. You remember my skepticism, right?”

  Otto nodded. “Of course.”

  A lightning strike hit a tree somewhere in the woods and there was a loud crack as the wood splintered.

  Otto held a hand up. “We’re safe. God has made clear His protection falls upon those that trust Him.”

  The congregation shifted, but stayed put.

  “I’d like you to come with me. I’d like you to see what God has done.”

  The murmur in the crowd started low, but it grew. Otto had to hold his hand up for silence.

  “And God told you where they were?”

  “Better. God showed me.”

  52

  James came out wrapped in the willow branches. Franklin pushed Ben aside and began to unroll him.

  When it was clear who it was, Rachel screamed, and Trudy waited as others pushed closer to see who it was.

  “She’s a murderer,” Otto said, his voice calmer than she had expected it. He thought everyone would believe him, and she knew he might be right, but there was still one more move she had to make.

  “She’s killed her husband.” Otto smiled a little, possibly because he realized the rest of the community was on his side.

  “We should put her in the shelter,” a gruff voice called.

  It belonged to Franklin. Trudy turned and saw his face lit with an eagerness that was frightening.

  “Brother Franklin speaks the truth,” Otto said. There was a chorus of approval. Trudy looked at Rachel and saw that she was not participating.

  “I will gladly go into the shelter,” Trudy said loudly, “if my dream is proven wrong.”

  More grumbling, with Franklin’s deep voice emerging from the uproar: “Why should we listen to the dreams of a murderer?”

  This was met with a rousing cheer from the crowd.

  She’d have to play her hand now or risk not getting a chance
to play it at all.

  “I didn’t kill my husband!” she shouted. Earl Talbot jerked her hard enough to snap her head back. She cried out in pain and focused herself by thinking of Rodney and Mary.

  “The truth may be painful,” she said, “but it’s important!” More hands grabbed her and pulled this way and that. The rain was pummeling them now, and she saw that they’d all become animals, products of their fears, and maybe everyone deserved to die out here. She prayed then that the storm would take them all. All except Mary and Rodney.

  She closed her eyes and let them pull on her, giving herself over to God at long last. Her God, not Otto’s, not James’s, but the one G.L. loved, the one who gave them a place and asked naught but that they live in it peacefully.

  That was when the lightning hit.

  It splintered the willow tree into two sections, and as the thin branches fell, they burst into flames that appeared to touch the sky. If you looked at it just so, some of the flames seemed to melt the stars and cause them to fall with the branches and the leaves, to fall like thawed tears over the tiny world of Broken Branch.

  The hands let go of her as people rushed for cover, trying to avoid the branches, the shower of stars and embers and rain that twirled and snaked in an endless smoke.

  Trudy stood, while the others scrambled and crawled and suffered apocalyptic fits. She thought she might be on fire, but didn’t care. The heat was good, and, for a second, the world shifted and she saw the swamp. The large gator raised its head from the water, spotted her, and dipped back into the murk. He swam slowly, like he had all the time in the world, and she supposed that was the greatest thing about the swamp: time didn’t move there. It was the separate place, the quiet, wet place like the womb, where we could find comfort and reflect, and if there was an alligator there, he wouldn’t kill us, just leave the scars like a reminder that we had to return one day, all of us, just as G.L. had walked for miles and miles to return.