by James Aura
Uncle Wallace said the coal company agents had been back working on the neighbors up the road. So far nobody in our corner of the county had given up an inch of land to the strip miners. It had been a good crop year and that probably helped.
The next couple of days I worked on the farm, waiting to hear back from Mr. Hudson and Evelena. Uncle Wallace and I were putting the tractor in the shed, when I glanced down the hill and saw a red-tailed hawk flapping its wings, rising up from the trash ditch. I couldn’t make out what was in its claws. But it did remind me there was one last plastic trash bag I hadn’t gone through. I decided to get that done the next day.
Months had passed and Uncle Wallace and Soo Jin were still sleeping in the small back room upstairs, with the canned goods. We kept Grandma’s bedroom pretty much the way it was when she died. It was time to get on with life. I suggested to Uncle Wallace that we clear out Grandma’s room and he and Soo Jin ought to start sleeping there.
He said Soo Jin would like that, and he mentioned it when she came in from the kitchen. She frowned at me. “But Russell, what about your grandmother’s things? Her clothing and shoes and all of that? I would not want to interfere with your memories of her.”
Soo Jin seemed more concerned about Grandma’s belongings than I was.
“Let’s put them in boxes and take them to the Salvation Army. She would want her things to benefit some folks in need.”
When Soo Jin started on a project she was like a whirlwind. The next day, she had the closet emptied, clothing sorted and folded and stacked, shoes in cardboard boxes. I walked into my room to discover a paper box and a round wooden container sitting on my bed. The paper box held a bunch of photo albums and pictures. I had gone through all of them and knew what was there. But the wooden container - this was something new. It looked like a wooden hatbox. It had a lid and a leather strap handle. It looked very old and fancy.
Soo Jin saw me sitting there on the bed, staring at the container.
“Russell that was underneath your grandmother’s bed. This was folded on top of it. She held up one of Grandma’s lap quilts. I thought you would want to see what’s inside. I did not open it.”
I dabbed a tear from my cheek. Getting rid of Grandma’s things was going to be harder than I thought. I never thought about Grandma having anything fancy or nice. Or owning anything that I hadn’t seen at least once during my snooping around as a kid.
The lid to the box was extremely tight. I tried pulling it open but it wouldn’t budge.
So I went to the front room and got a letter opener and slipped that under the edge and gently pushed up and out.
The top popped off and inside were several handwritten notes and letters, some kind of pearl necklace, what looked like a wedding band and a deck of cards. These did not appear to be regular playing cards. They were odd. On top was a card with an exotic looking cupid and a rusty paper clip attached to a note. It read "someone is looking at you with great love and longing."
Next was a card with a scythe cutting a sheaf of grain.
"Disappointment coming or early death."
Attached to that card was a small slip of paper that read "Bobby Ray, no." There was a date scrawled on the note, Feb 12, 1972. That was Daddy’s birthday just a few days before he died in Vietnam.
I had never known Grandma to be superstitious, unless you count religion.
This would be something for Uncle Wallace to look at.
Then there was the death notice from the paper, “The Defense Department Wednesday released the names of two more area servicemen killed in action in Vietnam. They were identified as..” It was an article I had read many times. There were copies in the family bible and in my desk.
The box also contained a small baby book. It was Daddy’s. I had seen it before. There were also several sandy colored locks of hair. I also had a baby book but it was in the front room in one of the bookcases. There were other things like a baptism certificate and Dad’s obituary from the paper. His high school yearbook was in there too. All of this made me so depressed; I did not retrieve the last plastic bag from the trash ditch. I just wasn’t up to it.
After dinner I asked Uncle Wallace to take a look at the odd cards and the notes.
“Russell, these are some kind of fortune teller cards, as best I can tell. I am surprised your grandmother would have these. And the notes, well, I don’t know what to make of those either.”
He got up and pulled a jar of moonshine from under the sink and poured a little in his cup. Then he paused and poured in twice as much.
“That note with your Daddy’s birth date on it, that one gives me the willies.”
We sat in contemplation for a bit then turned in for the night. I was tempted to ask him for a shot of moonshine. The plan I had in my head involved some moonshine down the road. I figured I needed to get a little more accustomed to hard liquor. Instead I looked out the window and drifted off, thoughts swirling again like leaves off a Sycamore tree.
I dreamt a gypsy woman was laying cards down on a table in front of me. She looked a lot like the Dean’s secretary. She kept picking them up and starting over, as if something wasn’t right. Then I’d wake up and turn over. And each time the gypsy woman was there laying cards down, shaking her head, then picking them up again. Then I heard a screech. It made my blood run cold and I nearly jumped out of bed. I sat up shivering.
The screech or scream came again. I walked out to the front porch. The sun was just coming up over the horizon. I realized it must have been a red-tailed hawk. They make a screeching call like that. I stood and shivered. Then the aroma of brewed coffee drifted out from the kitchen.
Someone else was already up and making coffee. I went back to my room, put on my jeans and peered into the kitchen. Uncle Wallace was pouring himself a cup of coffee and he had a black plastic trash bag at his side. He picked it up and saw me gaping in the doorway.
“I couldn’t sleep Russell. That last bit of stuff with the cards and the notes. I kept waking up all night long thinking about it. I am taking this out to the front porch and we’re going to take one last look for anything that might clear this up.”
He proceeded to the front porch, carrying the heavy plastic bag in both hands. It had a hole in the side and looked as if it might rip open. He asked me to bring the coffee. I ran to my room, threw on a shirt and some shoes and poured myself a cup. I carried both cups out front. Then I stood and watched him on the porch. He dumped the whole thing out and began sorting the items. This was the biggest pile of trash, yet. A few silverfish and crickets came crawling out of the mess.
I sat in the chair next to him.
“Did you hear the hawk? That screech woke me up.”
“Damn near scared the stuffing out of me. I was bringing the plastic bag back to the house and that hawk was flying overhead. Look there, it’s up in that pine tree now.”
The hawk was about 100 feet away, halfway up a pine tree where the yard met the woods, above the sunflowers. The seeds grandma had planted in April had grown into six foot tall plants. There were sunflowers blooming all around the edge of the yard.
I thought, “That’s all I need, a damned hawk for an alarm clock.”
Uncle Wallace froze and said, “Russell, don’t move. Do not move. DO NOT MOVE!”
He was staring at the porch floor, both hands holding old newspapers and envelopes in mid-air. I glanced down, and there was the biggest copperhead snake I had ever seen. It slithered out of the pile of trash on the floor. The snake was right between us, less than half a foot from either one of our legs. It coiled up, the copper and tan hourglass pattern were very clear in the morning light. It was agitated and flicked its tongue in and out.
My blood turned to ice water. I am good at dealing with varmints, critters, vermin and insects, but serpents… I don’t do well with serpents. We sat like store mannequins, not moving a muscle, following it with our eyes. I looked for something to kill it with. Nothing…maybe grab a chair.. too slow. The sn
ake edged closer to Uncle Wallace. Was it going up his pant leg? It slid over the top of his shoe and down off the front of the porch. I saw a shadow descending from above. It was the red-tail. That hawk swooped down, snatched up that big snake, and carried it into the woods.
After that I had to get up and walk around, my heart hammering. Then we sorted out the trash quickly. There was one last air mail envelope from an Army P.O. Box, with ‘free’ written where the stamp would normally go. Another letter from Vietnam, addressed to Grandma.
Uncle Wallace said, “Let’s go get some more coffee, Russell, and see what this is.”
He carried the letter into the kitchen. As I followed I looked back at the pile of trash on the porch, and shivered. Uncle Wallace opened the letter and proceeded to read it out loud as we sat at the kitchen table.
“Dear Mother,
I am sorry I do not have a good report. I have failed the family miserably. I made a last ditch effort to raise the money in a pit of iniquity, gambling and I lost everything. A loan shark has got his hooks into me. I don’t know how we will pay the debt on Eva’s hospital bills, unless you sell the tobacco allotment. I know we could lose the farm. I am ashamed at this turn of events.
I have been forced to work with blackguards who want to take advantage of a bad situation here for these poor Vietnamese people. But they will get theirs, in due time.
A friend in the Army CID will put an end to this bad behavior, but for now, I can only dance to their damned tune. If a man calls you and does not seem friendly or familiar, do not give him any information.
Love you,
Bobby”
"Dance to their tune"- Like so many other things, I must have gotten that from Daddy.
Uncle Wallace handed the letter to me, and I read it again, taking in Daddy’s handwriting.
Uncle Wallace said “That could have driven her to see a fortune teller, I reckon. God, I feel so bad Sally Mae didn’t share this with me.”
A dark thought hovered in my brain.
“Uncle Wallace, these blackguards know our address! They know where we are, they could find us! How do we know they didn’t wind up killing Daddy and we could be next!”
“Well if they did have him killed, there must have been some kind of a disconnect. After I called them, the Clarksville people sent those letters here and called on the phone. So they must have thought your father was still alive.”
He took the letter from my hand and read it again.
“Russell, that death notice in the newspaper, the one that was in your Grandma’s hat box, let’s take another look at that.”
Soo Jin came into the kitchen, surprised we were both awake. Usually she was the early riser in the house, gathering the eggs in the chicken house before I was even up. I walked past her to get the death notice newspaper clipping.
“The Defense Department Wednesday released the names of two more area servicemen killed in action in Vietnam. The Pentagon said they came under sniper attack near Cam Ranh Airport. They were identified as Chief Warrant Officer Terrance Greene, Special Agent, U.S. Army Criminal Investigation Division (CID), of Somerset, KY and Master Sergeant Bobby Teague, 101st Airborne Division, of Greenville, KY. Funeral arrangements are pending.”
“Uncle Wallace, do you suppose they were set up by the ones Daddy called the blackguards? That other guy was in the CID, maybe he was the one Dad referred to in that letter.”
Soo Jin came in from the chicken house with the eggs, washed her hands and dried them with a towel.
“You two are up early. Do you want breakfast before you milk?”
Uncle Wallace stood up and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“We were just going over some old letters. We’ll head for the barn directly.”
She noticed we also had the gypsy cards lying on the table.
“Russell, you said your grandmother was very religious. She must have been very upset if she went to someone who reads cards like that. If it is all right with you I will start moving our things into her bedroom today.”
I nodded and Uncle Wallace and I picked up the milk buckets and headed for the barn. He folded the letter and put it in his overalls chest pocket. High above in the sky, the red-tail soared, eying a gang of crows which noisily occupied a Sycamore tree. I wished I could have a birds-eye view of life.
At mid-morning a deep throbbing rumble announced the arrival of Tommy and Jim. They rode up on a shiny, black Harley 74 with an orange and red flame painted on the gas tank. It looked really cool, but the motorcycle spooked the cats. They ran and looked out from the barn loft.
Soo Jin stood in the front door and watched for a minute, then went back upstairs.
Uncle Wallace was out back with the .410 and a shovel, looking for copperheads around the trash ditch.
Jimmy said, “That’s the Korean girl. We think somebody is keeping a bunch more like her prisoner, is that right, Russell? She’s pretty.”
Tommy said he had sworn Jim to secrecy. I wasn’t worried. Jim was a straight shooter. If he was interested, maybe we’d take him with us to do reconnaissance on the blackguards.
They gave me a mechanical tour of the Harley, explaining how they installed the good engine into this good frame and where they had to scrounge for a few parts. I admired their handiwork then we sat on the front porch.
Soo Jin appeared again and asked if we’d like some tea. Tommy jumped up and offered to help her carry the pitcher and glasses out. Then he swigged some tea and asked Soo Jin if she would like a ride on his motorcycle. She glanced at me and then said she had some work to get done inside.
“Damn that’s the third girl I’ve asked to take a ride on my Harley and not a one will do it. I figured this would be a woman-magnet.”
“Tom there are plenty of girls who would be interested in you. I met one in town the other day. I bet you’d like her whole lot.”
“Well, I’ve tried to go out with a few girls but the only thing on my mind is sex. It kind of screws me up. I can't even carry on a normal conversation with them. I can see why Arabs make women cover up. It just would make life a whole lot easier. You seem to be better at this woman thing, Russell, what's your secret?”
“You’ve got to have something in common, something you can both talk about. I imagine there’s a girl out there somewhere who just loves Harleys or likes to mess around with cars.”
Jimmy said he’d rather have a girl who wanted to mess around in a car and they laughed. I was not feeling mirthful. I was thinking about Dad and his friend in the CID and the blackguards.
Tom had some news. Evelena had found a house that would be vacant for awhile. The owners were on some kind of Europe exchange deal and were looking for somebody who would pay a little rent and leave it clean when they left. It was in Guthrie, just north of the Kentucky- Tennessee line, not far from Clarksville. It sounded perfect. Of course we didn’t know for sure where the blackguards were located but it was a start.
I asked Tommy what the rent would be and he didn’t know. But he said Evelena had the number of a real estate agent who could give the details.
"You guys up for a little expedition down that way? We would need to visit lots of bars and spread the word that we are looking for a good time with girls and see if we can draw them in.”
Tom and Jim perked up. You’d think I had just set them up with Raquel Welch.
I didn’t tell them I had a possible street address in Clarksville.
Tom said, “Tell you what. We’ll need to be sneaky. This is kind of an undercover operation, right? How about if we take the Mustang and the Harley both?”
I told them I hoped to make the trip sooner rather than later and I’d be in touch. They revved up the Harley and took off. The pounding roar of that engine echoed off the side of the barn. Evelena told me we’d have to rent the house for a one month minimum and the rent would be $100 which she said was reasonable for a fully furnished three bedroom home in Guthrie.
I figured I could swing it, if Tom an
d Jimmy helped a little with food. We’d need extra cash for our sleuthing. The alfalfa was ready for another cutting and it looked good. This harvest would probably pay for our trip to Clarksville with a little left over.
Evelena didn’t say anything about Mr. Hudson and the Catholics, and I didn’t ask. I did follow his advice and had started a list of things to get done. I hadn’t gotten very far. I got out the list and made a few phone calls while Soo Jin and Uncle Wallace went to town.
Two nights later Tommy and I headed south in the Mustang. Jim followed us on the Harley. We had our supplies in the trunk; some food and a few things I picked up at the hardware store. We had clothing on hangers in the back seat. We had two 12 gauge shotguns and a Bowie knife underneath the clothing. I felt like Paladin was in the back seat too, calmly riding along with his Colt .45 and Derringer at the ready.