Tracking Daddy Down

by Marybeth Kelsey

I glared at him. Why didn’t he believe me? Didn’t he care about Tommy at all? Mama always said everyone had a heart in there somewhere, except some were way smaller than others. But Uncle Warren? His heart had shrunk into a tiny ice pellet. You’d need a microscope to find it.

  I turned back to Daddy, pulling his hand, pleading with him. “It ain’t a trick, I swear. Please!”

  His eyes flicked to Uncle Warren, and a heavy silence crept into the room, muffling everything but the sound of my heart thumping. Daddy ran his hands through his wet hair and started talking fast.

  “Baby, we ain’t got time for jokes. You know we’re in some trouble here, don’t you?”

  I swallowed a hiccup. “But this ain’t any—”

  “Lookit, baby.” He dug his hand down his pocket, rattling stuff around and pulling out a thick wad of bills. “Here. Take that. Run on back home now, and buy you and your sister something pretty. Get that bicycle you want. But you got to promise me something. You got to promise you won’t tell anyone you saw us out here.”

  I stared at the crumpled money in my hand.

  “You swear, baby? You swear you won’t tell anyone?”

  I barely nodded. I couldn’t take my eyes off the money.

  Daddy must’ve thought I wanted more, because he yanked another handful of bills from his pocket. “Here. Give some of this to your mama.” He started jabbering so fast I could hardly understand him. “Listen here, baby. This ain’t a game. Warren and me got to go. I want you to run on home. I don’t want any bad stuff going down with you out here.”

  I shook my head, angry tears filling my eyes. I pushed his hand away.

  “I’m not joking. Tommy’s hurt bad. Ernestine went to town after Daddy Joe, but they ain’t back yet.”

  “You say Joe Hughes is on the way?” Uncle Warren shot across the room, sticking his face up against mine. “I thought you said no one else knew we were out here.” He nodded toward the door and snapped at Daddy. “Get everything in the car. Now. We got trouble coming.”

  “But what about Tommy?” I cried. “You can’t leave him!”

  “Baby, there’s nothing we can do for Tommy,” Daddy said. “It’s best to let Joe take care of him.”

  Uncle Warren pulled on a T-shirt and started throwing stuff in his satchel. “That’s right. Hughes will take care of him. Besides, the boy can’t be hurt that bad, if he’s conscious and he’s sending you after help. Sounds to me like another one of his stunts.” He flicked his cigarette outside the door, turning back to Daddy with a sour look on his face. “You need to get rid of something this red-hot minute, if you know what’s good for us.”

  Daddy jiggled a set of car keys in his pocket. His eyes flitted around the room, then caught mine for one split second, just long enough for me to see the stranger he’d become.

  It was then I got it. It was then I understood that getting away with the money meant more to Daddy than anything. Even me.

  “Tommy’s going to be all right, baby. Joe will take better care of him than we could. You got to go now. Give me a big hug, you hear?” Daddy walked toward me, his arms outstretched.

  I threw the money down and backed toward the door. “You’re just like him,” I said, pointing to Uncle Warren. “You don’t care one bit about me or Tommy.”

  “Baby, don’t talk like that,” Daddy called after me as I ran outside. “You know I love you.”

  “I ain’t your stupid baby.”

  “Hey! Keep your mouth shut about what you saw out here,” Uncle Warren yelled. “And tell Tommy I said to stay the hell off that railroad bridge.”

  “Shut up, creep! I hate you. I hate both of you.” Blinded by tears, I ran, tripping over Old Man Hinshaw’s No Trespassing sign. I scrambled to my feet, yanked the sign out of the ground, and hurled it toward the shack.

  I took off again, away from Daddy’s shouts about how sorry he was. Once I made it out the gate, I raced through the woods back toward the bridge.

  When I reached Daddy’s car, a noise in the woods startled me. And then I saw him, Old Man Hinshaw. He had his shotgun, and he was headed my way.

  Chapter 30

  I crouched against the Studebaker, grabbing the fender to steady myself. If Old Man Hinshaw came near the car, he’d see me for sure. Ever so slowly I craned my neck around the taillight, watching him.

  He stopped.

  I froze. What was he doing?

  He stood straight up, his head cocked to one side. I didn’t dare move. If I made even the slightest sound, he’d hear it.

  Then just as suddenly as he’d stopped, Old Man Hinshaw darted back through the woods. He was headed toward the cabin. Was he planning to slip up on Daddy and Uncle Warren? Maybe I should go back and warn them. I could probably beat him there. But what about Tommy? I couldn’t forget the sight of his bruised, bloody face, of that broken bone in his leg. He needed me.

  Without giving it another thought, I turned toward the railroad bridge. Daddy and Uncle Warren would have to face Old Man Hinshaw by themselves.

  By the time I made it across the reservoir thick clouds covered the sun, making the air feel like a steam bath. Ernestine and Daddy Joe weren’t anywhere in sight, but I could see Tommy from the tracks, still lying where I’d left him. Once more I skidded down the rocky hill, preparing myself for the worst.

  My heart pounded with joy when I saw his open eyes. I dropped beside him, feeling his forehead.

  “What happened?” His murmur sounded pinched with pain.

  “I went to Old Man Hinshaw’s cabin, but I couldn’t find anyone. We’ll have to wait for Ernestine and Daddy Joe to get back. How’s your head?”

  “It hurts. But not as bad as my leg.”

  I checked his broken bone again; nothing had changed. “It doesn’t look that bad,” I lied. “Just a little swollen. Make sure you don’t move it, though.”

  “What happened?” Tommy’s voice was so groggy I could hardly understand him. “I can’t see so good. Where are we?”

  “Don’t you remember? You fell off the railroad bridge.”

  “What railroad bridge?”

  I wiped the sweat from my brow, trembling. How come he kept asking me these questions? Had something happened to his brain? I peered into his eyes. They looked dazed, distant.

  “Billie!” Daddy Joe’s deep voice echoed through the reservoir. A flood of relief washed over me when I saw him standing at the top of the hill.

  I waved my arms over my head. “Down here! Hurry! Tommy’s hurt. His leg’s broken.”

  “Hold tight,” Daddy Joe called. “I’ll be right there.” Instead of starting down the hill, though, he disappeared. After a minute or so of waiting I jumped up, pacing back and forth next to Tommy, kicking at the stones around my feet.

  Daddy Joe reappeared, holding two bushy tree limbs. He clutched them under one arm and scaled down the rocks like a mountain climber. It didn’t seem like any time before he was on the ground beside me, checking Tommy’s pulse.

  “Has he been moved at all?”

  “No.” I shook my head, feeling panic well up in me again. Had I done something wrong? Maybe I should’ve turned Tommy on his side to help him breathe better. “I didn’t think I was supposed to move him.”

  “You thought right,” Daddy Joe said with a quick nod. “Good job. Now tell me what happened.”

  In a shaky voice I described how Tommy had backed up on the bridge and tripped over the rail. As I told the story, the picture of Tommy’s terrified face at the moment he fell kept swirling around my head, and it was all I could do to keep talking. I took a deep breath, then went on to explain how I’d climbed down the hill to help him while Ernestine had run back to town. I stopped before getting to the part about why we’d been crossing the bridge in the first place. And I didn’t say a word about how I’d found Daddy and Uncle Warren at Old Man Hinshaw’s cabin. I couldn’t stand for Tommy to hear that his own dad wouldn’t come back to help him.

  Daddy Joe listened, answering me with quick no
ds and uh-huhs while he tended to Tommy. He checked every inch of the broken leg like he was a real doctor. He listened to Tommy’s lungs, looked in his eyes, and inspected his neck and head. He even had him wriggle his toes and fingers. “I need to make sure there’s not a back injury,” he said.

  But when Daddy Joe started asking him questions about the fall, you would’ve thought Tommy didn’t have a brain left in his head, some of the silly answers he gave.

  “How come he’s acting so goofy? Do you think his brain got knocked loose or something?” I whispered.

  “His brain’s just fine. He has a concussion, that’s all. It’s normal for him to act a little hazy. He may never remember exactly what happened out here today.” Daddy Joe dabbed at the blood around Tommy’s eye. “Don’t you worry about a thing, kiddo. We’ll get you all fixed up.”

  Kiddo? I jerked my head back in surprise. I never knew Daddy Joe said stuff like that; at least he never had to me. He’d never called me anything but my name, and half the time it sounded like it pained him to say it.

  Tommy opened his eyes and managed a weak grin, and for the first time since he’d fallen I felt like he might be okay.

  Daddy Joe had me pull the leaves and small twigs off the tree branches he’d brought down the hill, explaining how he was going to make a splint for the broken leg.

  “It’s an open fracture. We need to stabilize it before I can get him up the hill.”

  “You mean we’re going to carry him?”

  “That’s the plan.” He glanced around the deserted reservoir. “It doesn’t look like we’re getting airlifted out of here anytime soon.” He gave me a determined smile, then got to work preparing the splint. He snapped a tree limb in two, showing me how the leafy twigs would pad the splint. He used his pocketknife to cut a couple of long, skinny twigs from the limb. “These are flexible but strong,” he said. “We’ll use them to hold the splint in place.”

  Tommy barely uttered a word the whole time Daddy Joe worked on his leg. I held his hand, my own face stinging whenever he cried in pain. I prayed his fuzzy memory would make him forget this had happened because of me. So far the only thing he’d managed to talk about was Tiger.

  “Did you get her out of the tree?” he asked.

  Daddy Joe nodded. “Took a while, though. That’s one feisty kitten you got there. Reminds me of a certain cousin of yours.”

  I saw the twinkle in Daddy Joe’s eyes, but I didn’t smile back. I still wasn’t sure I could trust him. What was he really thinking about me behind that twinkle, that I was a thief who needed to go to reform school?

  I watched in silence as he finished Tommy’s splint. I couldn’t get over how much he knew about first aid. I’d never figured him to be that smart.

  “Did you learn all that in the army?”

  “Yep. In Korea.” He tested Tommy’s toes to make sure they hadn’t gone numb. “I learned a lot over there as a medic, bandaged all kinds of wounds.” He sat back for a moment, looking at me. “Guess the only thing I didn’t learn was how to mend a wounded heart. I’m real sorry about that, Billie.”

  I wanted to answer him, but my guilty conscience stopped me. Would he still be sorry if he found out Tommy’s broken leg and concussion were my fault? Would he still want to be my stepdad, or would he want to get rid of me, like Ada Jane said? I stared into the reservoir, watching the water ripple. I didn’t know what to think anymore.

  Once the splint was in place, Daddy Joe picked Tommy up like he was a delicate piece of china.

  “Where’s Ernestine?” I asked him. “How’d she find you so quick?”

  “She found me near the glass factory. I was already headed this way, looking for you.”

  “But how’d you know where we’d gone?”

  “You can thank your little sister for that. She overheard you talking about crossing the railroad bridge.”

  I gulped. I was in for it now. Mama for sure would hang me out to dry. But Daddy Joe didn’t even sound mad. He told me he’d sent Ernestine back home to have Mama call an ambulance.

  “We’d better hurry so I can meet up with it,” he said, starting up the hill.

  I crawled after him, watching as he took the slope in huge strides. Even with Tommy cradled in his arms, Daddy Joe made it up the rocks in less time than it took me to brush my teeth. He stopped at the top and waited for me. I was almost there when the small shrub I pulled on came uprooted. I cried out, grabbing at a cluster of loose stones. In a flash, Daddy Joe leaned over and took my arm. He whisked me up next to him. “Can’t have two of you with broken legs, now can I?”

  “Thanks.” I brushed my knees off and glanced at him, feeling a little shy. “Um…how are we going to find the ambulance? There aren’t any roads that come back here.”

  “I’m taking Tommy over the bridge. There’s a lane that runs through the woods out to the road by Fred Hinshaw’s house. I’m meeting the ambulance there.”

  Over the bridge? By Old Man Hinshaw’s?

  My heart started to race.

  “I want you to turn back now, Billie. I don’t like the idea of you crossing this bridge. It’s bad enough I have to risk it with Tommy,” he said.

  No! I couldn’t let them go without me. Nobody but me knew what might be waiting on the other side of the bridge. What if they ran into Daddy and Uncle Warren? Or even worse, what if Old Man Hinshaw came after them with his shotgun? I sped to the bridge ahead of Daddy Joe, before he could stop me.

  “I’m going,” I yelled over my shoulder. “I promised Tommy I’d stick with him. Besides, I’m not scared of crossing the bridge.”

  “Be careful then. And don’t look down. You might get dizzy.”

  I waved to let him know I’d heard him. I wondered what he’d think if he knew I’d already crossed that bridge so many times I could’ve done it with my eyes closed.

  I hurried across, waiting for them on the other side. It wrenched my heart to see Tommy hanging on to Daddy Joe, looking so scared and helpless. As soon as they caught up to me, we headed in the direction of the highway. I followed Daddy Joe up the lane, thinking I’d better warn him how Old Man Hinshaw patrolled the woods with a shotgun. But a gunshot stopped me cold.

  Daddy Joe grabbed my arm. “There must be a hunter out here. Stay beside me.”

  Then came the second shot. It sounded closer. Fear crept over my body like a spider’s thick web.

  “Stop shooting!” Daddy Joe’s voice boomed through the woods. “I’ve got kids with me!”

  “It’s not a hunter,” I said. “It’s Old Man Hinshaw or maybe Uncle War—”

  A horn blared.

  The green Studebaker came barreling up the narrow lane, straight at us.

  Chapter 31

  I couldn’t even scream. I stood rooted to the ground as the Studebaker sped toward us. Daddy was driving. Uncle Warren hung out the window on the passenger’s side with a long rifle aimed at something behind the car.

  “Get down, Billie!” Daddy Joe reached out and yanked me around the rough bark of a tree trunk. I fell against him, knocking into Tommy. He yelped with pain.

  “What’s wrong?” he whimpered. “What’s wrong with my leg?”

  Daddy Joe clutched Tommy to his chest with one arm, trying to calm him down. He held me flat against the tree with his other arm. I clung to his shirt sleeve when a third shot rang out from somewhere in the woods.

  “Don’t shoot!” I heard Daddy holler to Uncle Warren from inside the car. “You might hit the kids!”

  “I’d like to get my hands on that crazy old son of a—”

  And then the Studebaker tore away, spitting chunks of dirt out from under its tires.

  Daddy Joe wiped Tommy’s sweaty cheek. He shifted him in his arms to keep the bad leg from getting knocked around. “Hang in there, son. We’re going to get you help just as soon as possible.” He peered around the tree, then back at me, his face drawn and serious. “I need the truth, Billie. What’s going on out here?”

  I stood trembl
ing against the trunk, my ears still ringing from the shotgun blast.

  “It’s Old Man Hinshaw. That was him shooting at the car.” I told Daddy Joe the whole story then—as much of it as I could, anyway, even if it meant I’d for sure end up in reform school. I told him how Uncle Warren and Daddy had been hiding in the cabin and how I’d seen Old Man Hinshaw headed that way with his gun.

  The creases in his forehead deepened. “Listen carefully. Fred Hinshaw is not to be messed with; he’s unstable. We’re going out to the highway now, as fast as we can. I want you to stay in front of me, where I can see you.”

  I nodded and took off ahead of him. After we’d walked just a short distance, Tommy started crying again, and Daddy Joe stopped to soothe him. I’d already gotten several feet ahead of them when I heard some leaves rustle next to me. I hesitated for a moment, thinking it must be a possum. I glanced into the bushes. A long, skinny arm whipped out from the leaves and wrapped around my neck, squeezing the breath out of me.

  Old Man Hinshaw yanked me behind the bush. His hot whiskey breath skipped across the back of my neck. “You out here trespassin’ on my property again, girl? You after somethin’ of mine? Fred Hinshaw ain’t takin’ to that. Oh, no, he ain’t.”

  I gasped for air, croaking, “Let go!” I must’ve startled him, because his grip loosened. I lurched forward, falling to the ground. When I rolled over, I was looking straight into his wild, bloodshot eyes.

  “I’m not after anything! I swear it—”

  “Put the gun down, Fred.” Daddy Joe moved toward us slowly, not taking his eyes off Old Man Hinshaw. “Leave her be. I’ll give you whatever it is you want.”

  Old Man Hinshaw raised his gun at Daddy Joe. “I’ll whip the snot out of this here young’un; she’s a trespasser, deserves a good whippin’. Tried to pull a fast one on me, but I ain’t senile yet. Fred Hinshaw still knows a thing or two about a thing or two.”

  “You’re right, Fred.” Daddy Joe took a step closer. He didn’t sound scared of Old Man Hinshaw at all. In fact, you would’ve thought they were passing time on a street corner the way Daddy Joe buddied up to him. “My girl didn’t have any business out here, messing on your property. Her mom and I will tend to that soon enough. And I’ll give you whatever we owe you, soon as I can get to my wallet.”