Tracking Daddy Down

by Marybeth Kelsey

  “We’ll have to leave right after urch-chay,” I said.

  “What about the rain-tray?” Tommy said. “It nearly ran us over last time.”

  “It’s Sunday.”

  “So what?”

  “The trains don’t run on Sunday.” At least I didn’t think they did. Funny, I thought, how all these years I’d been watching the trains, and now I couldn’t remember if they ran on Sundays. I guess Tommy believed me, though, because he didn’t argue about it.

  It was just like I thought when we got to church. A crowd of bug-eyed kids stared at us as we walked up with Carla’s noisy wagon. Ada Jane stood smack in the middle of them, wearing a frilly pink dress and pink bows in her hair. Tommy and I ignored her giggles and headed straight for the church door, but Carla stopped to show everyone her doll. “Look here, Ada Jane,” she said. “I gave Kimmy a pixie cut.”

  Ada Jane smirked. “Oooh, what a funny hairstyle. It looks just like your sister’s.” She covered her mouth with her hand and giggled even louder.

  Carla ran off to show her doll to her Sunday school friends, and I turned to face Ada Jane. “At least I don’t look like a clown,” I said.

  “Well, at least I don’t have a daddy that’s wanted for bank robberies in three different states.”

  I stood speechless for a second, wishing I could yank the ruffles off Ada Jane’s dress and stuff them down her throat.

  “Liar,” I said, my heart pounding. What did she mean, wanted for robberies in three states?

  “Call me names if you want to. But I ain’t lying. I heard so myself from my grandpa. He says there’s going to be a reward out for anybody that catches both of your dads, because they’re armed and dangerous and a menace to society. That’s what Grandpa Whitey said. So there.”

  My head felt like it wanted to explode. I didn’t know there was a reward out for Daddy and Uncle Warren. How come nobody had told me? I turned to Tommy; he looked as dumbfounded as me.

  “Hey,” one of the boys with Ada Jane said, “maybe they’ll put your dads’ pictures up at the post office on the FBI’s most wanted criminals list.”

  “You’d better cut it out,” Tommy said. He drew his balled fist back. I worried he’d take a swing at someone like he did Goble, but the sight of Whitey Hudson lumbering up the steps sent Ada Jane and her friends scattering like ants.

  Whitey didn’t look so good: purple streaks and blotches covered his sweaty face, and his forehead gleamed with sweat. He pushed his thick glasses down to the tip of his nose and wiped his eyes with a handkerchief. Then he hunched over, grabbing the rail to steady himself. It seemed like every breath he took might be his last. I tried to slip away from him into the church foyer, but I wasn’t quick enough.

  He pulled himself upright and stuck out his hand, blocking me. “One minute there, Miss Billie Wisher.” His voice sounded raspy and faint. “Not so fast. I wanted you to know Mirabelle washed and ironed them acolyte robes. One of them had gum stuck all over it—a real mess. They’re clean now, though. They’re hanging in the sanctuary closet.”

  “Thank you,” I muttered, starting on my way again.

  “You ain’t chewin’ any gum today, are you?”

  “No. And it wasn’t me who got gum on the robe.”

  Tommy and I walked through the sanctuary toward our Sunday school class, and I thought about Daddy hiding in the cabin, waiting to make a run for it. If what Ada Jane had said about the reward was true, wouldn’t other people be out looking for them, too? I imagined everyone in Myron would want to get in on the action, even Goble Watson. I said a silent prayer, begging God to help me find Daddy first so I could warn him about everything. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that God was mad at me, that something bad lurked around the corner.

  We found Ernestine by herself in Whitey’s classroom, reading comics that she’d hidden inside her lesson book.

  She sucked in a gum bubble when she saw us, then hopped up and poked her head outside the classroom. “I’m hiding from Ada Jane,” she said. “She makes me want to puke. She’s already asked if I can come over after church, but I told her no. I hope she doesn’t go and ask my mom.”

  When I started telling Ernestine what Ada Jane had just said, her eyes grew bigger and rounder by the second. “For real? There’s really a reward out for your dads? That means a lot of people will be looking for them, huh?”

  I chewed at my knuckles, dreading the thought of sitting in church for two more hours. I wished we were already on our way to Old Man Hinshaw’s cabin.

  Whitey shuffled into the room while we were talking. I stuck a pencil in my mouth and buried my face in my Sunday school workbook, hoping he wouldn’t say anything to me. Ada Jane and her group piled in after him, and then Whitey rapped on his desk for attention. He opened his big white Bible.

  “Boys and girls,” he said, once everyone got settled, “in light of the special circumstances recently occurring in our community, we won’t be studying our regular lesson today.” He coughed a couple of times and continued. “I’m under the impression that a few of us could use a good, strong review of the Lord’s laws, starting with the Ten Commandments.” He coughed again and paused.

  “In par-tic-u-lary,” Whitey went on, “I’d like to focus on the fifth commandment our Lord laid down.” He smacked his Bible shut and looked straight at me. “Thou Shalt Not Steal. The fifth holy commandment.” He was roaring by now, which caused another wheezing spell. He leaned over his desk, then took a shaky breath and said, “Billie Wisher, what do you think the Lord would tell us about that fifth commandment, Thou Shalt Not Steal?”

  The room fell silent as a funeral parlor. Tommy fidgeted beside me. I sat up in my chair and looked Whitey Hudson square in the eye, my heart pounding so hard my chest hurt. “Well, I guess the Lord might tell you to study up on your commandments, because in my Bible, ‘Thou Shalt Not Steal’ ain’t the fifth commandment, it’s the eighth.”

  Whitey grabbed his desk, his face turning a solid shade of purple. A snicker started around the room, and before long it turned into roaring howls of laughter. Whitey tried to hush us, but no one paid him the slightest attention.

  “You’re going to get in big trouble,” Ada Jane said over the laughter, pointing at me.

  I didn’t care. And I didn’t care what happened to her, either. I stood up and yelled, “Oh, yeah? You’re the one that’s going to be in trouble, especially when your grandpa finds out what you took!”

  Her face went white. She looked at Ernestine, then back at me. She started to say something, but we heard a soft thud, and someone yelled, “Something’s wrong with your grandpa, Ada Jane!”

  Ada Jane jerked her head toward the front of the room. She gasped, clamping her hand over her mouth. Whitey Hudson lay flat on the floor.

  “He’s dead!” Ada Jane screamed.

  I ran to Whitey, looking helplessly at his limp body. I couldn’t see his chest moving. “Call Reverend Clarkson,” I yelled to Tommy. “Tell him we need an ambulance.”

  The next thing I knew a crowd of grown-ups flocked in the room and hovered over Whitey. Confusion broke out everywhere. Someone tried to get his pulse. Someone else struggled to get his tie off. Mirabelle went crazy, hollering at everyone to quit crowding him.

  “It’s just the asthma!” she kept yelling. “It’s just the asthma acting up again. Give him air!”

  After a couple of minutes us kids got whisked into the sanctuary. I stood with Ernestine and Tommy at the back of the room, chewing on the collar of my dress, praying Whitey would be okay. I’d never wanted him sick; I’d just wanted him to quit picking on me.

  Ada Jane came storming toward us. “It’s all your fault if my grandpa dies, Billie Wisher. You shouldn’t have said none of that—it caused him to have a heart attack.”

  I backed out the door and raced down the steps, away from her accusing words. It’s true, I thought, my heart aching with shame. This time I’ve gone and killed Whitey Hudson.

  Chapter 26r />
  I stood shivering at the bottom of the church steps, my arms wrapped tight around my chest. I wanted to run away, to not have to face Ada Jane or Mirabelle or anybody else at the church, but I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right to leave until help came for Whitey.

  I started pacing the sidewalk, watching for the ambulance. Surely it wouldn’t take them long to get there. The Henderson County hospital was only a few miles from Myron.

  It wasn’t but a couple of minutes before Tommy and Ernestine came looking for me. I’d never seen Ernestine so mad.

  “That stupid Ada Jane’s in there telling everyone a bunch of lies,” she said. Her eyes blazed in the bright sunlight.

  “About me?”

  “Uh…” Ernestine glanced at Tommy. He looked straight down and kept his hands buried in his pockets, like he was studying a bug or something on the ground.

  I tugged at his shirt sleeve. “What? What did she say?”

  “Aw, she’s just stupid. I swear I’m going to stuff a rag in her mouth one of these days.” He picked up a rock from the sidewalk and sent it skipping across the street.

  “She’s a big, fat liar,” Ernestine said. “I told her so, too.”

  “Will you just hurry up and tell me! I want to know what she said.”

  Ernestine bit her bottom lip and lowered her eyes. “She said your Daddy Joe’s planning on sending you to reform school. She said him and Bud Castor and her grandpa have already called the school about it.”

  “Reform school?” I stumbled backward, covering my mouth with my hands. Is that what Mirabelle had meant the day after the robbery, the day I’d heard her say something about a school for juvenile delinquents?

  “Don’t mention that to Wanda,” Daddy Joe had told her.

  Was it true? Was Daddy Joe really planning to send me to reform school? Was Mama going along with him? Or maybe he was still trying to butter her up about it. And what about Tommy? They must be planning to send him away, too.

  I pictured myself locked in a small gray room at the Indianapolis Girls’ School, eating cold hominy grits for breakfast with nothing but a Bible to read. I’d never be let outside. I’d never get to have company. And I’d heard all the kids at reform school got whipped at least once a day.

  “I should’ve told her to go stick her head in the toilet. I would’ve, too, if the preacher hadn’t been standing there.” Tommy kept talking, but I barely heard him. All I could hear were steel doors clanging behind me at reform school.

  “Don’t pay any attention to Ada Jane,” Ernestine said. “Just wait until you find your real daddy. He won’t let anyone send you away.”

  I nodded, feeling a little better. Ernestine was right; Daddy would make things okay. He’d never let Joe Hughes send me to reform school.

  We heard the wail of a siren. A few people had trickled outside and gathered on the church steps, watching for the ambulance. It didn’t take long before it bounced around the corner and screeched to a stop. Two men jumped out with a stretcher and hurried inside after Whitey. I sat down on the steps between Ernestine and Tommy, resting my chin in my hands, praying he was still alive.

  “Psst!” Ernestine nudged me. She made a face and pointed her thumb behind us.

  It was Mirabelle’s friend Mrs. Mitchell, glaring down at me from a couple of steps up. “Young lady, I’d like to know what happened in that Sunday school class. Ada Jane tells me you’re behind this.”

  “Uh…I…uh…”

  “Oh, no. Billie didn’t do anything, ma’am,” Ernestine said. She hopped up to face Mrs. Mitchell.

  I gulped in surprise. Usually, Ernestine hid behind me when we had to answer to a grown-up. She made me do all the talking.

  Mrs. Mitchell opened her mouth to say something, but Ernestine cut her off.

  “You see…uh, well, Mr. Hudson, he…uh…he forgot the order of the Ten Commandments.” Ernestine giggled and batted her eyelashes at Mrs. Mitchell. “So all Billie did was remind him. She’s kind of an expert on the commandments.”

  “That’s right,” Tommy said. “She even knows them backwards.”

  “Hmph! That’s not the story I heard. I understood that—”

  “Clear the way, please!” someone yelled from the church door. Tommy and I jumped up and moved aside as the ambulance men whisked the stretcher back down the steps. I put my hand over my eyes, too scared to look. Suppose Whitey was all covered up with a sheet. That would mean he was dead.

  But then I heard a raspy cough. I peeked through my fingers and caught a quick glimpse of Whitey’s face. He was blinking in the bright sunlight. I let out a long sigh and leaned against the railing, my legs wobbling with relief.

  Once the ambulance and Whitey’s family had left for the hospital, Reverend Clarkson canceled church services. “I believe it’s only fitting,” he told all of us gathered on the sidewalk. “Mirabelle has asked me to join them at the hospital. I’ll make calls later today and let everyone know how Whitey is doing.”

  Ernestine walked the three of us home, and I made plans with her to meet up with Tommy and me at the Main Street railroad crossing in fifteen minutes, right after we’d changed clothes.

  Carla went across the street to play with Tiger. I stood alone on our porch, dreading the thought of facing Daddy Joe. Now that I knew he’d already called the reform school, I didn’t trust him one bit.

  The empty porch swing creaked in the warm breeze. I stared at it, remembering that hot summer night three years ago when I’d sat there with Daddy and Carla. It’d been late, around eleven. Mama already had fallen asleep, and Daddy had just handed us each our second root beer. “Don’t tell your mama,” he’d said. “It’ll only get her riled up at me again.”

  “That’s because she’s afraid Carla will wet the bed,” I’d said, feeling the need to stick up for Mama. Besides, Carla slept with me, and I’d been a little worried myself about her getting the second bottle of pop.

  “I ain’t gonna wet the bed, Daddy,” Carla said. She wiped soda off her chin with her pajama sleeve. “Mama don’t know nothin’.”

  I’d raised my eyebrows at Carla, but Daddy had hooted with laughter. “You’ve got that right, pumpkin,” he’d muttered. “Doesn’t know a darn thing…”

  We swung in the dark with our drinks, counting fireflies and listening to crickets, when Daddy said in a worried voice, “You girls know I love you, don’t you?”

  I’d looked at him in surprise. Of course I knew he loved us. He’d just given us the second root beer, hadn’t he? And we hadn’t even had to beg for it. I didn’t know one other dad in Myron who would’ve done that. Not Ernestine’s dad, that’s for sure. And Tommy’s dad, Uncle Warren, he’d probably never given Tommy a root beer in his whole life.

  “You know I got laid off from Firestone, right?” Daddy said. He started talking faster then, like he did whenever he argued with Mama. “Well, there’s nothing around here that pays any money, so your uncle Gary’s been after me to come out to California. He’s got me a great job lined up with a construction crew. I’m gonna make big money, girls. Real money, for once. When I get settled, I’m gonna send for you and your mama.”

  And then I hadn’t heard another word he’d said. Because all of a sudden the night had become a big black hole, and it felt like I’d fallen to the very bottom of it.

  Daddy swore he’d keep in touch, that he would call long distance and write. “Once a week,” he’d told me. “I swear it, baby; I’ll write you once a week. All three of you will be out there with me in six months, that’s a promise.”

  His promises never came through. We hadn’t made it out to California, and he’d never written once a week like he said, either. I’d gotten a handful of letters the whole time he was gone.

  I turned away from the swing, trying to forget the hurt of Daddy leaving. I stuck my head in the door. Good, no one was home. At least I wouldn’t have to lie to Mama again. I hurried back to my room to change clothes, but just as I started tying my shoes, the front door ope
ned.

  Chapter 27

  Daddy Joe’s voice filled my room like a blast of freezing air. “Something just came to me,” he said. “I think the kids may know where Earl and Warren are hiding. I think they’ve known all along.” I stiffened on the edge of the bed, my fingers frozen to my shoelace.

  “Oh, my God!” Mama sounded as though she’d just seen Carla running through the house with scissors. “What makes you say that?”

  “It’s just a hunch, really, but…” Daddy Joe must’ve walked away, because his voice faded out.

  “Good Lord!” Mama said. “If that’s true, she could get hurt. I’ve got to find her.”

  I leaped off the bed.

  “Bud says Earl and Warren will be caught any day,” Mama went on. “He says the Indianapolis police think they’re on to something. What if Billie gets in the middle of it?”

  I flattened my back against the wall, shaking so hard I couldn’t catch my breath.

  “I’m going across the street to talk to Charlene—to see what she thinks. And I’m calling Bud. I want him to come over here and scare the truth out of Billie. She clams up with me whenever I talk to her about it,” Mama said.

  I edged to the window. I’d have to make a break for it.

  “I have an idea,” Daddy Joe said. “You may not like it, but I think we should send the kids…”

  I strained to hear him, but his voice was too muffled, like he’d walked away again. It didn’t matter anyway, because I already knew all about his big idea. He probably had my suitcase packed by the door. I pushed the window screen, watching it fall to the ground.

  Daddy Joe’s voice rang low and clear down the hallway again. “Whatever you do, don’t let her know I told you any of this. She already resents me.”

  I tried to swing my trembling leg over the windowsill. It might as well have been a tree stump; it wouldn’t budge.

  “She’s going to resent me plenty, too. But I can’t have her out all over hell’s half acre looking for Earl and Warren. She’ll get hurt.” Mama’s voice grew louder. “I’m checking her room. I want to see if she’s hiding anything back here.”