by Chris Offutt
“Let me get you home,” he said.
“You’re in trouble aren’t you,” she said.
“Not if nobody knows where I am.”
“I can’t see anyone.”
“No, but you know me. That’s enough for the law.”
“I never been one to favor laws.”
She turned and he followed her across the field. A breeze set the sedge in motion like ripples in a pond. A thin cloud crossed the moon, turning the night into translucent gauze, but she continued her slow pace as if she could see as well as him. They walked along a path to a dirt road that ended at the squared-off shadow of a house. He watched her move to the dark porch, heard the door open and close.
Tucker walked back across the field, trying to imagine being blind. Day and night would be the same except for the temperature of the air. He shivered involuntarily. Maybe they’d each seen a ghost.
He abandoned his shortcut and climbed the land. At the top of the hill he headed east along the ridge, following the stars. He’d be home in time for breakfast with his family.
Epilogue
Beulah told no one about meeting Tucker in the woods, not even her son. She died in her sleep at age one hundred one or one hundred three.
Zeph quit working at the grade school after his mother died. Every year he gathered morels and ginseng, which he sold at a profit. He had a heart attack in the woods and died listening to birds, looking at the sky, happy.
Jimmy was buried in the family cemetery. Two women claimed to have had his children. One child became the first woman deputy sheriff in Rowan County. The other, a boy, moved to Texas and was never heard from again.
Angela lived with her youngest daughter and was happier than her family remembered. She never spoke of Beanpole, although some nights alone on the porch she recalled the early days of their courtship.
Uncle Boot served as deputy sheriff for six years, then ran successfully for sheriff. After twenty-two years he retired and opened a small boat rental business on the newly formed Cave Run Reservoir.
Mr. Howorth died under mysterious circumstances at his hardware store. Despite no alibi, Mrs. Howorth was exonerated, and her husband’s death was deemed an accident. She dyed her hair, moved to Florida, and claimed to be from Tennessee.
After the theft of his pistol, Tom Freeman never picked up a hitchhiker again. He sold products for Procter & Gamble, switched to life insurance, then real estate. He retired at age fifty-five, a millionaire thrice over.
Hattie never revealed the facts of Marvin’s death. She moved to Chicago and formed a loving relationship with a woman. She joined the Daughters of Bilitis, an early gay rights group, and became a prominent organizer. In 1970, she marched in Chicago’s first Gay Pride parade.
Jo received an academic scholarship to Morehead State University. She became a special education teacher in Carter County. She married a logger and had three children, all with full cognitive abilities.
Shiny joined the army and thrived within its structure. After twenty years he retired and returned to the hills with his third wife and a young child. He supplemented his military pension by repairing chainsaws and lawn mowers.
Rhonda’s attempts to regain custody of her children failed. She visited them once a month. Her recovery from depression was gradual but complete, and she remained in love with Tucker throughout her days.
Ida and Velmey died young when influenza swept through the shared bedroom of the care facility, taking eleven children. Bessie was transferred to a newer institution in Frankfort, where she worked in the kitchen.
Big Billy became a favorite of the nursing staff. He learned to communicate through a series of grunts, and smiled often. At age sixty-one he died of a stroke. His funeral was well attended.
Tucker bought his old house and returned to it. A few years later he replaced Zeph as the janitor at the elementary school. He never used his weapons again.
Acknowledgments
For editorial assistance during the writing of this book, I am very grateful to Amy Hundley, Nicole Aragi, Jonathan Lethem, James Offutt, Kathi Whitley, Levi Henriksen, and Melissa Allee Ginsburg.
For financial assistance, I thank the Ucross Foundation, the Mississippi Arts Commission, and the University of Mississippi.