“I heard it I tell you.”
Gerard looked at Tereau.
“Maybe he did hear something. Let’s go to the boat and don’t take no chances,” Tereau said.
Gerard threw the coffeepot and iron stake into the back of the wagon. Tereau got up on the seat and wrapped the reins around his fist. He drove the wagon around the edge of the clearing through a narrow break in the trees that opened onto a wheel-rutted road leading between the levee and a deep gully. They could hear the nutrias calling to each other in the swamp, a high-pitched cry like the scream of a hysterical woman. The oak trees stood at uneven intervals along the rim of the gully, and the moonlight fell through the branches, spotting the ground with pale areas of light against the dark green of the jungle. Tereau sat forward with the reins through his fingers. He looked back at Avery and Gerard, who were following, as the wagon banged over the ruts. LeBlanc walked ahead of the mules, straining his eyes against the darkness. He stopped and without turning put one hand in the air.
“What’s the matter?” Gerard said.
“There it is again. It’s a boat laying out on the river. I can hear the water breaking against its sides,” LeBlanc said.
“How in the hell can you tell it’s a boat?” Gerard said.
“I know it’s a boat.”
“I can’t hear nothing,” Tereau said.
“I’m going ahead to take a look,” LeBlanc said.
“You stay here. Me and the boy will go,” Gerard said.
“I reckon I don’t need nobody to tell me what to do.”
“We need the gun here,” Gerard said.
“Tereau’s got a rifle in the wagon.”
“I ain’t carrying it this time,” Tereau said.
Gerard touched Avery on the arm and they moved up the road past LeBlanc.
“I don’t like nobody telling me what to do,” LeBlanc said.
“I ain’t telling you nothing,” Gerard said. “I’m just asking you to watch the wagon.”
They walked on out of sight. The road continued in a straight line between the gully and the levee. Directly ahead was the cove where their boat was moored in the willows. The cove was about fifty yards wide, but the entrance was a bottleneck formed by sandbars, deep enough for small craft to enter and too shallow for anything larger. The river was swollen from the rains, flowing swiftly down to the Gulf. Avery and Gerard left the road before they got to the landing, and worked their way around the edge of the cove to where it met the river. From there they could see the willow trees, the cove, and the river without being seen. They went through the brush until they reached the river’s edge where the backwater rippled over the sandbar that formed one side of the bottleneck of the cove. They squatted in the sand and looked out through the reeds.
“There ain’t nothing here,” Gerard said.
“Look over yonder.”
“Where?”
“Just out from the sandbar. It’s an oil slick,” Avery said.
“It could have come from upriver.”
“It’s not spread out enough. A boat has been here in the last hour.”
Gerard spit a stream of tobacco juice into the sand. “Let’s get further downriver. Maybe we can see something.”
They worked back along the shore away from the cove. They kept in the shelter of the trees and didn’t speak. The frogs and crickets were loud in the marsh. Gerard walked ahead, not making any sound. They arrived at a small inlet that washed back through the trees. They waded into the water until it was around their thighs. Gerard stood with his hand on a tree trunk, looking out over the river.
“I can’t see a goddamn thing,” he said.
“Maybe they went on past us,” Avery said.
“Let’s go back to the other side of the cove. If there ain’t nothing there, we’ll load the boat and get out of here.”
“There’s another slick.”
Gerard looked at the metallic blue oil deposit floating on the water. He raised his eyes and studied the opposite bank.
“Sonsofbitches,” he said. “They’re hid back in the shadow against the bank. They must have cut their engine and floated downstream to wait for us.”
“What do you want to do?” Avery said.
“There ain’t no way to get my boat out as long as they’re sitting there.”
“Sink your boat and go back on foot.”
“They’d find it sooner or later and get my registration number.” Gerard spit into the water and waded to the bank. “We got to get rid of them. Let’s go get the others.”
They started towards the cove.
“What’s the sentence for running whiskey?” Avery said.
“One to three years.”
“Do you have a drink on you?”
“I never touch it.”
They went through the underbrush to the cove where the sandbar jutted away from the shore. They could just see the hard-packed crest beneath the surface in the moonlight. Gerard stopped for a moment in silence and looked out over the water at the sandbar, and then followed Avery back through the trees towards the road. They passed the clump of willows and turned along the gully. They could see the outline of the wagon and the kegs on its bed in the shadows. LeBlanc was sitting up on the seat with Tereau.
“What did you see?” Tereau said.
“They’re there,” Gerard said.
“Bastards,” LeBlanc said.
“I think I got a way for us to get out,” Gerard said. “We’ll have to load the whiskey first.”
“You can’t outrun them with a boatload of them kegs,” Tereau said.
“They ain’t going to chase us. They’re going to be piled up on the sandbar. Take the wagon up to the boat and we’ll get loaded.”
Tereau slapped the reins against the mules’ backs. The kegs lumbered from side to side as the wagon creaked forward. LeBlanc sat beside the Negro with his hand on the butt of his revolver.
“You ain’t going to need the gun,” Tereau said.
“I’m the judge of that.”
“We never had no shooting. We don’t shoot and they don’t shoot.”
LeBlanc looked grimly ahead. Gerard and Avery took the mules by their harness and turned them around so the tailgate would face the boat. Tereau tied the reins to the brake, and climbed down and went to the rear of the wagon. He pulled the metal pins from their fastenings and eased the gate down.
“It ain’t too late,” he said. “I’ll give you your money back and take the whiskey to the still.”
“We’ll make it,” Gerard said.
“It’s your three years,” Tereau said, and took the first keg off the bed onto his shoulder.
Avery got up on the bed and handed the kegs down. In a quarter hour the boat was loaded.
“Now what?” Tereau said.
“You better get ready to move,” Gerard said.
“It ain’t smart what you’re doing.”
“I never had to ditch a load yet.”
LeBlanc got into the long flat outboard and climbed over the kegs to the bow. Gerard got in and sat on the board plank in front of the motor. He took a flashlight from under the seat and placed it beside him. He wrapped the rope around the starter, put the motor in neutral and opened the throttle; he yanked hard on the rope. It caught the first time, and he increased the gas feed and raced the motor wide open in neutral. They heard the two Evinrude seventy-five-horsepower engines of the police boat kick over across the river.
Gerard took up the flashlight and shone it through the willows so it would be visible from the river. The throbbing of the police boat’s engines became nearer, then they saw it come around the river bend full speed towards the mouth of the cove, the water breaking white in front of the bow, the flat churning wake behind and the spray flying back over the uptilted cabin. Someone on board must have seen the sandbar, because the boat swerved to port just before it struck the crest. The bow lurched in the air, and the engines, still driving, spun the boat around on its keel until it came
to rest with part of the stern out of the water and the starboard propeller churning in the sand.
LeBlanc stood up in the outboard and shouted at the police boat.
“Sit down!” Gerard said. “I got to get us out of here.” He threw the motor into gear and shot forward through the willows. The police boat’s searchlight went on, and the trees were flooded with a hard electric brilliance. “Bastards,” LeBlanc shouted. He stood up again and took aim with the pistol. The glass broke with the first shot, but the lamp still burned. He fired twice more, and the searchlight went out.
Avery and Tereau ran for the wagon. They climbed into the seat, and Tereau slashed the reins down on the mules. The mules jumped against their harness, and the wagon banged over the ruts, pitching back and forth, so that Avery had to hold on to the brake to keep from being thrown from the seat. He looked behind him and saw LeBlanc’s pistol flash three times in the dark. Tereau whipped the mules to a faster pace until the boat was out of sight. They could still hear LeBlanc cursing.
“He’s done it,” Tereau said. “We never had no shooting, but we’re going to have it now.”
“Where we going?”
“To the still. I’m going to move out everything I can. The swamp will be full of police before morning.”
The wagon swayed against a tree and careened back on the road. “My God,” Avery said.
“Got no time to waste.” Tereau whipped the mules harder.
“You think he hit anybody?” Avery said.
“It ain’t our doing.”
“We were with them.”
“When they got in the boat they were on their own,” Tereau said.
“Look out!”
The left front wheel of the wagon struck a large oak root that grew across the road. The rim of the wheel cracked in two, and the spokes shattered like matchsticks as the wagon went down on its axle, skidding across the road to the edge of the gully; it turned on its side and balanced for a second, then toppled over the brink, pulling the mules down with it. Avery was thrown free and landed on his stomach in the middle of the road. The breath went out of him in one lung-aching, air-sucking rush, and the earth shifted sideways and rolled beneath him, and a pattern of color drifted before his eyes; then he could see pieces of dirt and blades of grass close to his face, and his chest and stomach stopped contracting, and slowly he felt the pressure go out of his lungs as he pulled the air down inside him. He turned over on his back and sat up. He looked for the wagon. There was a scar of plowed dirt where the axle had skidded across the road. He stood up and walked to the brink of the gully.
“Get down here and pull it off me,” Tereau said.
Avery could see the top portion of the Negro’s body lying among the splintered boards. The wagon had come to rest upside down, pinning Tereau’s legs under it. The mules lay at the front, twitching and jerking in the fouled harness. The kegs had broken open and there was a strong smell of whiskey in the air. The broken slats (their insides burned to charcoal for aging the whiskey) and the copper hoops were scattered on the ground. Avery slid down the bank and tried to lift the wagon with his hands. It came a couple of inches off the ground and he had to release it. He moved to the front of the wagon and tried to raise it by the axle. It wouldn’t move. He stooped and got his shoulder under the axle and tried again. He pushed upwards with all his strength until he went weak with strain.
“Find something for a wedge,” Tereau said.
Avery hunted along the gully for a stout fallen limb. He found several thick branches, but they were rotted from the weather. He searched in the grass and saw a railroad tie that had been discarded by one of the pipeline companies that worked in the marsh. The tie was embedded in the dirt. Avery pried it up with his fingers and saw the worms and slugs in the soft mold beneath. He carried it back to the wagon.
“I’ll slip it under close to your legs,” he said. “When I lift up you pull out.”
“I’m waiting on you,” Tereau said.
Avery fitted the wedge under the side wall of the wagon and lifted.
“Hurry up and get out. I can’t hold it up long.”
“I don’t feel nothing in my legs. The blood’s cut off.”
“I got to drop it.”
Tereau reached under the wagon and grabbed his legs under the knees and pulled.
“I’m out. Let it go,” he said.
Avery released the tie and let the wagon drop.
“Is anything broken?” he said.
“I don’t know. Hep me up.”
He put Tereau’s arm over his shoulder and lifted him to his feet.
“They ain’t broke, but I can’t go nowheres.”
“You can’t stay here.”
“We ain’t getting out of the marsh this way.”
“I’ll help you. Can you walk if I help you?”
“I ain’t going far.”
“Let’s get away from the wagon. They can probably smell the whiskey out on the river.”
“There’s something you got to do first.”
“What?”
“Them mules is suffering,” Tereau said. He took the long double-edged knife from his boot. The blade shone like blue ice in the moonlight. “Put it under the neck. They won’t feel no pain that way.” He handed the knife to Avery.
Tereau leaned against a tree while Avery went over to the mules. The knife cut deeply and quick. He cleaned the blade on the grass and came back.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said.
Farther down the gully there was a rainwash that had eroded a depression in the bank. It was dry now and overgrown with vines and small bushes. Avery was able to get Tereau up the wash to the road. They crossed to the other side and entered the thicket and headed towards the opposite end of the marsh where the still was. Tereau could take only a few steps at a time. For the next hour they worked their way through the undergrowth. Tereau was breathing hard and had to rest often. The vines scratched their faces and necks. In some areas the mosquitoes were very bad and swarmed around them and got inside their clothes. It took all Avery’s strength to keep the Negro on his feet. Tereau took his arm from Avery’s shoulder and sat on the ground.
“Go on and let me be,” he said.
“You know I can’t do that.”
“Go on. You don’t belong down here nohow.”
“You’re not helping anything. You’re making things harder,” Avery said.
“My legs are gone. You’d have to carry me.”
“All right. I’ll try it.”
“You ain’t talking good sense.”
“I’ll get somebody to help. Will you be all right if I hide you here?”
“I’ll get along.”
Avery put him in the bushes and cut some branches from the trees to cover him.
“Leave me the knife,” Tereau said. “What for?”
“I need it.”
“No.”
“Give me my knife and get away from here.”
“I’m not going to give it to you. Stay put till I get back.” He put the knife in his belt.
“I’m too old a man to go to prison.”
“Stop talking like that.”
“Ain’t you got any sense at all? You won’t be back in time, and I ain’t going to no jailhouse.”
“Don’t talk so loud.”
“I don’t know why I ever took a young boy with me in the first place.”
“I’m going to Jean Landry’s houseboat. We’ll come back in his pirogue.”
Avery left him in the thicket and splashed into the knee-deep water of the swamp. It would take him a half hour to get to Landry’s, and about half that time to come back in the pirogue. The bottom of the swamp was mud and sand. His feet sank in to his ankles. He thought he heard the police in the distance. The branches of the trees overhead grew into one another, and there was almost no light in the swamp. He had trouble finding the direction to the houseboat. He believed that old man Landry would help them, since he disliked any type of
authority and had moved out in the swamp years ago to avoid paying taxes and obeying the law. Unconsciously Avery felt at his side for the knife. It was gone. He thought he would have heard it splash if it had fallen in the water. It must have slipped out of his belt before he left Tereau. He headed back towards the shore, breaking through the overhanging vines with his forearms. A water moccasin slithered across the water in front of him. Avery’s foot caught on a tree root and he went under. He struggled to free himself and plunged through the reeds onto the bank.
The cut branches were still in place over the bushes where Tereau was hidden. Avery ripped the branches away. The Negro was sitting upright, just as he had left him, with the knife on the ground by his side.
“You ain’t forgot nothing, have you?” Tereau said.
“You and that goddamn knife.”
“Take off. You ain’t got much time. I heard the police on the road a few minutes ago.”
“Let’s get moving, then.”
“It ain’t no use. There’s a big tree out in the water I can hide in. Leave me there and Landry’ll find me in the morning when he picks up his nets. You can go through the grass flats to the other levee and get back to town. There ain’t nobody going to follow you through there.”
“I have to take the knife with me.”
“You’ll probably cut yourself with it.”
Avery picked up the knife and threw it through the air into the water. They heard it splash in the dark.
“Ain’t that a foolish thing to do.”
“Let’s go,” Avery said. He helped Tereau to his feet and picked him up over his shoulder in a cross-carry. He moved out of the thicket and waded into the water. Away from the bank there was a great cypress tree with one side split open and blackened and hollowed out where it had been struck by lightning. He slid the Negro off his back into the hollow. Tereau adjusted his position with his hands so that he could sit upright fairly comfortably, and pulled his feet out of the water inside the tree. He took off his boots and wrung out his socks.
“I reckon you’ll let me alone now,” he said.
“I reckon.”
Tereau took the pint bottle of whiskey from his pocket and pulled the cork out.
“Would the young gentleman care for a drink?” he said.
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