Precious Bones

by Mika Ashley-Hollinger

  Sitting at the end of that same pew was the huge body of Sheriff LeRoy. He had his uniform on, but his Stetson sat in his lap.

  The morning sun peeked through the small stained-glass windows, scattering broken rainbows across the room. A bronze-colored coffin surrounded by big bouquets of flowers stretched out in front of Preacher Jenkins’s podium. Like a giant pried-open clam, the coffin stood half open.

  As we walked down the aisle, Mama slipped her hand in mine. I stood beside the coffin and poked my head up through my cocoon and looked inside. The top half of Mr. Speed rested on a puffy white cloud of cloth; he looked like he was taking a nap. His head was turned in such a way that it didn’t look lopsided anymore.

  He was dressed in a fancy green army uniform. Brass buttons ran down the front, and two bright medals were pinned on the left pocket. A hat with a rim as shiny as a black mirror rested on his chest.

  My eyes swept over his face, but I didn’t recognize him. It wasn’t Mr. Speed. It didn’t even look like him. The body laying in all that whiteness looked like a little girl’s doll. The skin was dull and waxy. It wasn’t real, wasn’t alive. This was nobody I knew.

  I felt Mama squeeze my hand. Nolay placed his arm around my shoulders and gently turned me around. As we walked away, I saw Mr. Speed’s mama and daddy sitting in the front pew. I looked at their faces and saw that they had built cocoons, too.

  I looked to the back of the church, where the beautiful music was coming from. One side of the church was filled with colored people. Dressed in their Sunday finest, they sat in chairs and stood along the walls. Like reeds blowing in a gentle breeze, their bodies swayed together as they sang and hummed hymns. Their voices floated out and filled the room with an unbearable sadness.

  Nolay led us to a pew and I sat between him and Mama. Before long, Preacher Jenkins took his place at the podium and started to speak. “Brothers and sisters, we are gathered here today to remember our beloved son.…”

  That was all I heard. I closed my eyes and pulled deep inside myself. My mind wandered back to the Last Chance, to a time when me and Mr. Speed sat together on the bench. His lopsided head wobbled back and forth as he told me, “They done made a camera that can take a picture without film; it’s called a Po-lee-roid. Yes, sir, a Po-lee-roid.”

  “How can that be?” I said. “Where does the picture come from?”

  “Pops right out the front on a little piece of paper, a little piece of paper.”

  I laughed. “Now, that sure does sound interesting. I wish I could see one of those.”

  A woman began to wail and I jolted back into my body sitting on the hard wooden pew at the funeral service. The sound, like that of a wounded animal, ripped through my cocoon. It grew and groaned up from a deep, dark place. A bottomless black pond filled with memories, a place where I did not want to go.

  The wailing continued. I squeezed my eyes shut and let the hymns the colored people were singing fill my ears. Colored people didn’t attend white churches—they had their own—but I reckon Preacher Jenkins allowed them here today to honor Mr. Speed, and I sure was glad. Their voices blended and moved through the room like a soothing current of water.

  I felt Nolay’s hand squeeze mine. When I looked up, the coffin, draped in an American flag, was being carried down the aisle by four men in green Army uniforms. Everyone got up and walked outside. We stood and silently watched as they slid the coffin into the back of a black hearse.

  Sheriff LeRoy’s car was parked in front of the hearse. He opened the door, squeezed inside, put his flashing red light on, and led the way. We all got in our cars and snaked along behind the hearse. I couldn’t stop my mind from thinking about why Sheriff LeRoy was here and not out doing his po-lease work. Why was no one in his rightful place? LeRoy should have been out hunting murderers, and Mr. Speed should have been sitting on his bench, not lying in a box.

  Two chairs were in front of the grave site so Mr. Speed’s mama and daddy had a place to sit. We walked up and stood behind them.

  The coffin was placed over a dark gaping mouth dug in the earth. Two soldiers lifted the flag off the coffin and carefully folded it into a perfect triangle.

  One of the soldiers walked up to Mr. Speed’s mama and handed it to her, as gentle as though it were a newborn baby. She held it in both hands and clutched it to her heart. Mr. Speed’s daddy put his arms around her and the two of them curled into each other’s grief.

  As I watched them, I realized something. That flag, folded in a triangle, was all that was left of their only child and one of my best friends.

  The sound of a bugle broke the quietness. Its sad, beautiful notes felt like the fluttering of angel wings. The wings brushed and beat against the sides of my cocoon, trying to find a way inside. I threw my arms around Nolay and buried my face in his side.

  On the ride back home, Mama wrapped her arm around me and kept saying, “It will be okay, Bones, it will be okay.”

  But it wasn’t okay; my body felt like I had swallowed a rock and it was stuck in my heart.

  When we reached home, I went to my room, strapped on my Roy Roger pistols, grabbed my .22, and tucked a sleepy Nippy under my arm. Nolay and Mama were in the kitchen. Nolay looked at me and asked, “Goin’ someplace?”

  “Yes, sir, I’m leavin’, and I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

  Mama said, “Bones, you can’t run away from your feelings. Just sit down and we can talk about it.”

  “Mama, I don’t want to talk about anything. I just want to go away and never come back.”

  Nolay looked at Mama, then back at me. “Got anyplace in mind?”

  “I don’t know. A secret place. I’m taking Nippy and Pearl with me. And Harry can come along if he wants.”

  “How long you reckon you’ll be gone?”

  “I don’t know. But I know one thing: I ain’t never goin’ to the Last Chance again. Never.”

  “Well, I hope you won’t be gone too long, ’cause me and Mama sure would be lonesome without you.”

  “I don’t care. I might never be back again.”

  Outside I found Pearl resting under her favorite tree. Nippy finally woke up enough so I could put her on the ground. Harry pranced alongside Pearl as we walked toward the opposite side of the swamp. At the edge of the scrub pines lived a majestic old cedar tree. Nolay told me that his daddy had planted it when Nolay was just a little boy.

  Like a green mountain, the top of the tree stretched toward the sky. Its heavy limbs cascaded down, almost touching the ground. Under its fragrant branches, a smooth carpet of soft gray moss covered the earth. It was my secret place.

  I crawled in and curled up against the huge solid trunk. Pearl grunted her little pig sounds and plopped down beside me. Nippy and Harry scrambled around, looking for something to eat. The soft shade folded around me and I drifted off to sleep.

  I woke up to the wet noses of Paddlefoot, Silver, and Mr. Jones against my face. They wagged their tails and tripped over my legs. Mr. Jones stepped on Pearl. She let out a squeal, stood up, and head-butted him in the side. Through all the commotion, I thought I heard Mama’s voice outside.

  “Bones, are you in there?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Is it all right if I come inside?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Mama crawled under the branches and leaned up against the trunk beside me.

  “How did you know where I was?” I said.

  “The dogs always know where you are. I just followed them.” She looked around and took a deep breath. “This is a magical place, isn’t it?”

  She reached over, wrapped both arms around me, and pulled me close to her, and just like that, the thin walls of my cocoon unraveled and spilled around me like useless threads. My body began to shake as the tears poured out. Mama squeezed me tight as I sobbed, “It ain’t fair. It just ain’t fair. God is so mean; I’m so mad at him. And I’m so mad at Nolay. He lied to me; he told me nothing would happen to Mr. Speed. He promi
sed he would be back home soon. He promised and now Mr. Speed’s dead and buried in a hole in the ground. And I won’t ever see him again.”

  Mama gently rocked me back and forth. “Bones, I know you are hurt and angry. I know you want to blame someone. But you can’t blame your daddy. He didn’t cause anything to happen to Mr. Speed. You can’t blame God; you can’t blame anybody.”

  “But why did God take Mr. Speed away? He never hurt anybody. He was my friend.”

  Mama reached inside her pants pocket, pulled out a small white handkerchief, and gently wiped the tears from my face.

  “And Mama, if God took Mr. Speed away, is he going to take Nolay away, too? Is he going to let him be put in the electric chair?”

  “Shhh, Bones, don’t talk like that. Don’t think like that. God is good. You have to trust that all this will work out.”

  “But why did he take Mr. Speed?”

  “I don’t know why, Bones. All I know is that sometimes God sends special people to the earth. They bring joy and happiness to everyone around them, and then God calls them back home.”

  “You mean sort of like an angel?”

  “I guess you could call it that.”

  “Mama, do you think Mr. Speed was an angel here on earth?”

  “I think Mr. Speed was a very special person. He made our world a happier place to live in.”

  “I miss him. I wish God would have let him stay here with us.”

  “I know you miss him. I wish he could have stayed here with us, too.”

  Mama hugged me close to her warm body. She hummed a lullaby that she used to sing to me when I was a baby. I felt her breath going in and out; I listened to the soft, steady rhythm of her heart.

  As we sat under the soothing shelter and breathed in the tree’s fragrant scent, its huge limbs creaked and moaned with a life all their own.

  I looked up at Mama’s face. “Do you think I’ll see Mr. Speed again, up in heaven?”

  “Yes, I do, Bones; I do believe you will see him again.”

  “I hope so.”

  Pearl got up and waddled over to my side. She stuck her snout close to my face and began to snort and snuffle. “Mama, you know what, it’s getting late. Maybe we should start heading back home. Pearl’s telling me she’s mighty hungry.”

  “That sounds like a good idea, Bones. Your daddy and I would just be too lonesome without you. And my goodness, what would all these animals do if you left them?” I did not say a word, because there just wasn’t an answer to a question like that.

  I was ready to go back home; I just wasn’t ready for our next visitor.

  Me and Mama didn’t go to church on Sunday, and I sure was glad, because I didn’t want to go back there anytime soon. All day I kept wanting to go down to the Last Chance and sit with Mr. Speed so I could feel better. But I would never be able to do that again.

  For the next couple of days, when me and Little Man rode the school bus, I looked out the window as we passed the Last Chance. Mr. Speed’s bench sat empty, like an abandoned island.

  One afternoon on our ride back home, I looked out to see two men sitting on the bench. “Look, Little Man, someone’s sitting on Mr. Speed’s bench. They shouldn’t be doing that.”

  “Bones, Mr. Speed ain’t here no more. Ain’t no reason why someone else can’t sit there. I don’t think he’d mind at all.”

  “It just don’t seem right.”

  “You know what? I think you and me should go sit there one day. I think Mr. Speed would like that.”

  “You really think so?”

  “Yep, I sure do.”

  “I’ll have to think about that.”

  Wednesday evening we were just sitting down for supper in a kitchen filled with flickering kerosene lights and the aroma of fried chicken, when the dogs began to bark. Two smoky headlight beams sliced through the night, coming up our driveway.

  I got up from the table and said, “I’ll go see who it is.”

  From our living room I peered out into the darkness, and what I saw sitting in our driveway nearly took my breath away. It wasn’t Ironhead or Mr. Cotton, it was Sheriff LeRoy in his patrol car. What was he doing here at this time of night? All I could think of was he was here to take Nolay away. I turned and ran back into the kitchen. I rushed up to Nolay and in a whisper said, “Nolay, it’s Sheriff LeRoy, you got to run away! Quick, you got to run out to the swamps and hide! I’ll go tell him you’re not here. You got—”

  Nolay turned and placed both hands on my shoulders. “Bones, what are you talking about? Have you gone crazy?”

  “Nolay, he’s come to get you! He’s going to take you away! He’s going to take you back to jail! He’s got evidence! He’s got—”

  Nolay tightened his grip on my shoulders. “Bones, you get ahold of yourself. That’s foolish talk.” He pointed to my chair. “You get over there and sit down. I’ll go let LeRoy in. I ain’t running away from any man.”

  Nolay got up and went outside. I sat down and looked at Mama. Her gaze stretched across the table and rested on me.

  “I know you are scared, but you have to believe your daddy is innocent.”

  “I’m trying. I just don’t want him to die, Mama. I just don’t want him to be gone forever, like Mr. Speed.”

  A few minutes later, Nolay and Sheriff LeRoy strolled into the kitchen. The sheriff took his oversized Stetson off and held it in both hands. “Evening, Miss Lori.”

  “Good evening, LeRoy. We were just sitting down for supper. Come join us.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. I ain’t hungry, but I would appreciate a glass of that sweet tea, if it ain’t a bother.”

  “No bother at all, LeRoy. Sit down and make yourself comfortable.”

  Sheriff LeRoy eased his bulky frame into one of the chairs at the end of the table. His massive body nearly filled the entire back wall of our kitchen. Carefully he placed his Stetson on the floor. Like an old dog looking for a comfortable spot, he twisted and turned until his body finally settled into the too-small chair.

  Mama placed a big glass of honey-colored tea in front of him and asked, “So, what brings you out here this evening?”

  Slowly and deliberately, LeRoy crossed his huge arms, took a deep breath, and said, “Well, ma’am, like I said before, I had some ideas, and I wanted to do some investigatin’, so I took a little trip down to Dade County.” LeRoy stopped and took a sip of tea. He looked at the glass, and a wide smile broke out on his face. “That sure is good tea, Miss Lori.”

  “Thank you, LeRoy.” Mama picked up her fork and poked at a piece of chicken. “Now, when I first got down there, them city po-lease didn’t want to give me the time of day, treated me like I was dumb as a stick. But me being a sheriff and all, they couldn’t refuse to hep with my investigation.” LeRoy eyed the pile of golden fried chicken sitting in the middle of the table. “That chicken sure does smell good, Miss Lori.”

  “Let me fix you a plate, LeRoy.” Mama put several pieces of chicken on a plate. “Would you like some mashed potatoes?”

  “Well, yes, ma’am, I wouldn’t mind a little bit.”

  “And how about some butter beans and a biscuit to go with that?”

  “Well, if it ain’t too much trouble.”

  “No trouble at all.” Mama placed the heaping plate of food in front of LeRoy and sat back down.

  Silently, LeRoy munched on a drumstick. The room filled with the clinking of LeRoy’s fork scraping across his plate. Nolay’s and Mama’s forks were hanging in midair.

  Nolay cleared his throat and asked, “So, LeRoy, how did that investigation of yours go?”

  LeRoy put his drumstick down, slowly wiped his mouth with a napkin, and said, “Well, like I said, them city boys treated me like a dumb kid, but they had to hep me. So first off, I wanted to know a little more about that fella Fowler they found up here dead. Him and that other fella, Decker, were partners, and I wanted to know what they were up to.”

  Sheriff LeRoy picked up the drumstick and gnawed
it clean to the bone. He finished his mashed potatoes and butter beans, wiped his plate with the biscuit, and contentedly leaned back in the small chair. “That sure was good, Miss Lori. I ain’t had home-cooked food like that since my mama passed away.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it, LeRoy.” Patiently, Mama pushed a butter bean around in circles on her plate. “Do continue with your story.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Now, where was I? Oh yeah, it turns out that Fowler and Decker were in cahoots with each other, buying and selling land. They’d buy up a piece real cheap, then run a advertisement in a paper up north somewhere, saying it was waterfront property or some such nonsense. Had ’em quite a business going on.” LeRoy stopped and took a long swig of his tea. He smacked his lips together and slowly continued his story.

  “Well, sir, after a little investigatin’ on my part, I come to find out that Fowler—that’s the dead guy—that his wife had took out a fifty-thousand-dollar life insurance policy on her husband not two weeks before he went missin’. Now, that struck me as peculiar. When I told one of those city detectives about it, he felt the same way.”

  Nolay and Mama both put their forks down and leaned in toward Sheriff LeRoy.

  Nolay said, “So then what happened?”

  LeRoy drained his glass and set it down. Mama picked up the pitcher of tea and refilled his glass.

  “Thank you, Miss Lori. Well, after what me and this detective found out, seemed like the attention of the rest of those city po-lease perked up.” He stared at the plate mounded with brown-topped biscuits. “Miss Lori, if it ain’t a bother, I sure would like another one a them biscuits. Besides my mama’s, that is about the softest biscuit I have ever had.”

  Mama jumped like she had just been stung by a bee. “Of course, LeRoy, have all you want.” She pushed the plate in front of him. “And here, have some more tea.” She grabbed the pitcher and poured tea into LeRoy’s nearly full glass. The golden liquid flowed over the top, ran down the sides, and sent little rivulets across the table and over the side. “Oh, my goodness, I am so sorry, LeRoy.”