Silver was half German shepherd and half gray wolf. Nolay had brought her home as a puppy several years ago. She had a lanky body and penetrating blue-gray eyes. If something or someone strange entered our yard, she ran circles around our house to make sure the doors were protected. Sometimes at night she would sit alone, at the edge of our clearing, and howl in her haunting voice. She saw things the other dogs didn’t; she was more wolf than shepherd.
As we walked, the underbrush came alive with the sounds of small critters scampering for safer ground. Just as we came to the edge of the swamp, Silver stopped and pointed her nose at a thicket. The hair on her back raised and she let out a low growl. Little Man put his hand out to stop me from walking. Like an Indian hunter, he silently walked up to where Silver was. He slowly raised his gun and pointed it in the direction of the underbrush.
I watched as his head fell back and he rolled his big brown eyes up to the sky. “Good Lord, Bones, come over here and see what your dog found.”
I walked up and peered into the thick growth. Laying on the ground was what looked like a small gray baseball. Little Man shook his head. “That ain’t nothing but a little ol’ armadillo your dog done scared half to death. When they get scared they curl up in a ball so nothing can hurt ’em. I knew we shoulda left these dogs at home. They ain’t huntin’ dogs. They just scare everything away.”
I put my hands on my hips and said, “She found that armadillo, didn’t she?”
Little Man shook his head again. “Come on, Bones, let’s see what other critters these dogs can track down.”
As we came closer to the swamp, we began to see the floodwater’s path of destruction. Huge stands of saw grass and cattails were nearly flattened to the ground. The force of the water had cut deep ruts into the swamp’s soft, mucky edge. The sun’s reflection skimmed across the water’s surface, turning it into an endless black-topped mirror. There were mounds of broken tree branches and dead logs scattered everywhere.
As I looked out over the debris, I turned to Little Man and said, “It sort of makes me sad to see the swamp hurt like this.”
“It ain’t hurt. This swamp has lived through hundreds of storms like this. It don’t hurt it, it makes it better. You see all them piles of muck and rubbish. That there is mighty rich food for a swamp. It just helps it to grow bigger and stronger.”
“I guess you’re right, Little Man, it’s been here forever and it will be here forever after. That does makes me feel better.”
We picked our way along the pockmarked, muddy bank, and the dogs ventured further off, sniffing and smelling things only they could sense. As I squished along the muddy path, an angular object caught my eye. I reached down and pulled it out of the slippery earth. It was a hunting knife, like the one Nolay used to clean fish and game. Just as I turned to show it to Little Man, I saw Silver suddenly stop at a small mound of muck and broken branches. The hair along her back bristled, and she began to growl and slowly circle the mound.
Little Man laughed softly. “What’s that dog got cornered now, a rat or maybe a big, bad ol’ possum?”
Indignantly, I walked toward Silver. Seeing me approach, she squatted down on her hunches, pointed her nose toward the mound, and snarled. “What is it, girl?” I said. “What do you smell?” I followed her eyes to the top of the mound, which was littered with tangled branches and grass. Lying just underneath, covered with a slimy black coating of goo, was an unnatural form. The top half was jagged and wrinkled. The rest of it appeared to be matted with a layer of fine hair. As I got closer I saw something white and shiny peeking up through the pile of muck. Suddenly, like a firecracker exploding in my mind, I recognized the grisly shape. I turned around so fast I almost fell over my own feet. “Little Man, Little Man, quick, get over here!”
“What’s she got now?”
“I ain’t kiddin’! Get over here quick!”
Little Man sauntered over and stood beside me. I pointed.
Little Man’s brown eyes almost popped out of his head. “Good Lord a-mercy! That there is a human leg!”
“I know it! And it’s that Yankee man’s leg!”
“How do know it’s that Yankee’s?”
“ ’Cause I could never forget those white shoes he was wearing,” I said, pointing to the tip of the shiny white shoe poking out of the muck. “Them’s the shoes he was wearing when me and Nolay saw them Yankees with the Reems brothers.”
Little Man cautiously stepped forward for a closer look. “There ain’t no body, just a leg from the knee down. Where’s the rest of him?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care! Let’s get out of here! We gotta get to the Last Chance and call the sheriff.”
“You’re right about that. But it’ll be quicker if we go to your house and have your mama drive us down.”
I handed the hunting knife to Little Man and said, “I found this. I think it might belong to Nolay.”
“What’s it doin’ out here?”
“I don’t know! Just put it in your croker sack and let’s get out of here!”
Me and Little Man jogged back to the house fast as we could. I saw Mama just coming in from the garden carrying a basket full of vegetables. I ran toward her yelling, “Mama, we found that Yankee man’s leg! He’s out there dead! We got to go call the sheriff!”
Mama hugged the basket to her chest as if to shield herself from what she was hearing.
“Bones, what on earth are you talking about?”
Little Man stepped forward and answered, “It’s true, Miss Lori, we done found a dead man’s leg out there. And Bones says she knows whose it is, ’cause she recognizes the shoe he was wearing.”
Mama looked at both of us. “Y’all get in the car. I’ll get the keys.”
On the drive to the Last Chance, Mama didn’t say a word, but me and Little Man made up for it, talking to each other at the same time. We parked at the Last Chance. Mama went inside to phone the sheriff, and me and Little Man walked over to where Mr. Speed sat on his bench. His lopsided head slowly bobbed up and down as we told him our story.
After catching my breath I said, “Mr. Speed, what do you think happened? I think that man got lost and an alligator caught him and ate him. There’s nothing left of him, just a leg.” Recalling the grisly sight sent a shudder down my spine.
Mr. Speed shook his head. “Not the right time of year, not the right time. They’re busy with their babies, with their babies.”
Little Man said, “Now, see there, Bones, that’s just what I told you. Why would a gator be eatin’ someone this time of year? People ain’t in their diet, and it’s summertime—there’s plenty of food in the swamps. All gators are interested in is marryin’ up with each other and taking care of their eggs.”
“But it just doesn’t make sense. What was he doing out there?”
“You’re right about that. It don’t make sense.”
Mama walked out the front door and came over to us. “The sheriff will be here in about a half hour. Little Man, are you all right waiting here for him? Someone has to show him where to find the … to find the … leg. I would rather Bones didn’t go back out there right now. I’ll drive out to your house and let your mama and daddy know where you are.”
“But Mama—” I started.
“Yes, ma’am, I’m fine with that,” Little Man interjected. “I’ll just sit here with Mr. Speed and wait for ’im.”
Little Man turned to me. “Bones, I’ll try to stop by tomorrow and tell you what all happened.”
“All right,” I conceded. Then quietly to Little Man, “I’d go back out with you, but it’s probably best that I stay with Mama. I think she’s more upset than I am.”
As I walked away, I looked back. Little Man and Mr. Speed sat side by side on the bench, the croker sack with the knife inside laying on the ground.
After me and Mama got back home, I helped her clean the vegetables. The two of us stood side by side over the kitchen sink. The noise of water splashing over the vegeta
bles and sliding down the drain was the only sound in the room. Mama was quiet, and deep in thought. My mind was so full of questions I felt like they were going to dribble out my mouth. Finally I said, “Mama, why do you think that Yankee man was out there? I mean, that was one of the men Nolay chased off and said he’d do something about if he ever saw them on his land again.”
Mama didn’t look up, she just replied, “I don’t know, Bones. It’s a mystery, but I’m sure it will be cleared up soon enough.”
“And Mama, I think I found Nolay’s hunting knife out there where that leg was.”
Mama stopped and turned to face me. “What are you talking about?”
“I found a knife, and it looks like Nolay’s. How did it get out there?”
Mama turned back to the sink. “Bones, everyone out here has hunting knifes, and they mostly look about the same. It could belong to anyone.”
“But if that man wasn’t eaten by alligators, what could have happened? It was an awful sight to see. What happened to the rest of him?”
“If you don’t know your way around the swamp, it can be an unforgiving place. There are so many things that could have happened to him. He shouldn’t have been out there.”
“Yes, ma’am, and I bet he wishes he hadn’t been.”
Answers to all my questions were laying right around the corner, but they wouldn’t be the ones I wanted to hear.
The next morning, I was up at the first crack of light. I got dressed faster than a flea jumping on a dog and headed for the kitchen. Mama hadn’t even finished her first cup of coffee when I rushed in.
“Mama, can I go over and visit with Little Man?”
“Bones, the sun has hardly come up. You need to have some breakfast and do a few chores around the house. Little Man said he would come out and see you later today.”
“But Mama, I want to go see him and find out what all happened yesterday with the sheriff.”
“Well, at least go out and see that the animals are fed and watered. Then come in and get a bite to eat before you leave.”
After I did all my chores, I ran back in, grabbed two sausage biscuits, then headed to Little Man’s house. On my way out the door Mama stopped me in my tracks. “Bones, do not take any shortcuts in the swamp. You stay on the road out to Little Man’s house.”
“Yes, ma’am, I will.” But she didn’t have to tell me that, not after what I had seen laying out there yesterday.
When I came up to Little Man’s house, I spotted him over by their big chicken coop.
“Hey, Little Man. So what all happened yesterday with you and the sheriff?”
I could tell by the way he puffed out his chest that it was going to be a good story. Together we walked over to his house and sat down on the front steps.
“Well, it wadn’t long after y’all left that the sheriff drove up. He stopped by and let me ride up front with him in the police car. Bones, you should see what all he has inside that car. I tell you, that man is prepared for just about anything that could possibly happen.”
“What kind of stuff does he have?”
“He has a sawed-off shotgun hung on the backseat and handcuffs and whistles and all kinds of books and papers. Up on the front dash he has a radio that he can use to speak to other police cars. And a great big ol’ metal lunch box sitting on the floor. I swear, that man could just about live inside that car.”
“Boy, I hope I get to see that someday.”
“So anyways, me and Sheriff LeRoy took the lead and the hearse followed right behind us. The sheriff was real professional-like. He had his red lights flashing, but he didn’t turn on his siren. We drove as close up to the swamp as we could, then we all got out and I walked ’em in to where we found the leg. Them hearse guys brought in a couple of bags of supplies and things. When I showed ’em the leg they took some pictures, then they got some funny-looking long pliers out and started picking in the mud around that leg.”
“Why did they do that?”
“I ain’t quite sure, but they was looking for something. Anyway, after they finished poking around in the mud, they used them pliers to pick the leg up real gentle-like and put it in a big plastic bag. All the time Sheriff LeRoy was walking in circles around the whole place. He looked like a old hound dog sniffing out a trail.”
Little Man scrunched up his nose and scratched his bird’s-nest-covered head. “Now, there was one interestin’ thing. I watched as they pulled up that leg and I didn’t see no gator bites or nothing on it. The top of it had been chewed up pretty good. But it didn’t look like no gator bites.”
“Did they find anything else?”
“Nothing that I could see. But I did hear something interestin’. Them hearse men were talking to the sheriff about the condition of that leg. They said that man had been dead for pert near three days. His partner reported him missin’ only two days ago, but he had been out there longer than that.”
A picture of that man laying dead out in the back of our swamp started roaming around inside my head. I shuddered. “That is an awful thought.”
“I know what you mean. But that’s what I heard. After them hearse men wrapped up that leg, they took it back to their car and headed out. Then me and the sheriff got back in his car and he drove me home.” Little Man let out a laugh and shook his head. “The sheriff kept his flashing red lights on all the way out to the house. When he drove in our yard with them lights flashing, it nearly scared my mama half to death.”
“Did you show the sheriff the knife I found?”
“No, I kept it in my croker sack. I wadn’t sure if I should be giving that to him or not.” Little Man looked over at me. “Maybe we should just keep it to ourselves for a while. I mean, we don’t know for sure if it’s Mr. Nolay’s or how it got out there, but I think me and you should just think on it for a while.”
“I already mentioned it to Mama. But she said it could belong to anybody. Nearly everyone out here has a hunting knife. Little Man, do you think Nolay was out there?”
“Of course he was out there. That there’s his swamp. You know he goes out there all the time.”
“Well, course I know that. But it still don’t make sense why that Yankee man was out there in Nolay’s swamp.”
I was just about to question Little Man some more on his thoughts when Miss Melba walked up behind us. “Little Man, did you finish gathering the eggs?”
“No, ma’am, I’ll go get ’em now.”
Miss Melba looked at me. “How are you, Bones? How’s your mama and daddy?”
“Everyone’s fine, Miss Melba.”
“Well, you give them my regards.”
“Yes, ma’am, I will.” I stood up and said, “I best be getting back. I still got chores to do.”
On my walk home, the picture of that dead man’s leg kept roaming around inside my mind, along with that knife and some of Little Man’s thoughts.
Sunday afternoon me and Mama had just drove back from church services when I noticed the truck parked in the yard. Nolay had been away for a couple of days. We didn’t go to church every Sunday, just on the ones that Mama had a calling to go. I wasn’t clear on what exactly called Mama, but when it happened, we ended up sitting on a hard wooden pew at the Bethany Baptist Church. Little Man and his family also went to church there, and on the few occasions when there was an adult around who was willing and able to teach us kids, we would go outside and sit under the shade of a friendly oak tree and have Sunday school.
Nolay never had a calling to go to church. He said every day he walked on the earth he was in church.
Nolay was loading up his airboat with sacks of sugar and corn. I walked over to say hey, and he said, “Bones, I’m going out to check on some things in the swamp. You want to come along?”
“Yes, sir, Nolay.”
“Go change your Sunday clothes, grab your rifle, and let’s get.”
I ran back to the house, took off my dress, hung it up, and put on my favorite pair of dungarees. They felt like bei
ng hugged by an old friend.
As I climbed into the airboat with Nolay, Mama ran out of the house and yelled, “Y’all wait.” She handed Nolay a croker sack bulging with stuff. “Since you’ll be out that way, would you stop by and give this to Miss Eunice? I canned up too much vegetables again.” Nolay and I exchanged a knowing look. We both knew that was Mama’s way of saying that this was not charity; it was just some more of God’s abundance.
“Course I will,” Nolay said, “and don’t worry, we won’t be gone long.”
Mama said to me, “Bones, you should go in and pay your respects to Miss Eunice.”
Nolay handed me the sack. “Put this up at the front.” He reached inside his back pocket, pulled out his favorite red handkerchief, and tied it around his head. He grabbed a push pole and poled the boat away from the shore.
I looked up at Nolay and said, “There ain’t no way I’m going in that house.”
“Now, what makes you say that?”
“ ’Cause it’s haunted.”
“Haunted? How do you figure that?”
“I just do. A couple of times when I was out there, I heard strange noises.”
“That don’t make it haunted.” His blue eyes twinkled as the hint of a smile spread across his face. “I won’t make you, but you never know, you might get curious and want to.”
“I don’t think I’ll get that curious.”
Nolay sat on the top seat, and I sat on the one below him. He pressed the starter button and the engine roared to life. The huge airplane propeller mounted at the back of the boat pushed us along. Nolay glided the flat-bottom boat out over thick stands of saw grass. Soon as we hit open water, he pushed the throttle forward, and we went flying on top of the water, a huge liquid ducktail following behind us. Gasoline fumes mingled with the warm air and left a trail of smoky-gray fog over the water’s surface.
The swamp was alive with rebirth. The late-afternoon sun burned down on the mirrored surface of the water, and the humid air wrapped around us like thin soup.
Precious Bones Page 5