Just as he finished speaking, Jakes eye caught mine. I had tried to get close enough to get a good look without being seen, but it was as if he could sense my presence and knew exactly where I was standing. To my utter surprise, he smiled at me. It was not an evil smile, or a condescending one, either. It was a pleasant smile. One like my daddy would give me when I had done something that made him proud. I couldn’t help shivering even though it was stifling hot in the building with all the bodies packed in around me.
*****
It had been over a week since the Bullard’s had been arrested and me and Glenn decided there was no use in just sitting around and worrying about the upcoming trial or whether or not Freddy and Bruce would find us out somewhere and kill us. Or at least beat us within an inch of our lives. Daddy told us it would be a long time, maybe even months, before the trial began, anyway. To take care of any potential run-ins I might have with the Bullard brothers, he gave me one of his small pistols to carry. A .38 revolver with a snub nose that had a holster and fit neatly on my belt. Neither Daddy or Momma worried about me having it because I’d been handling guns since I was eight years old and had always been around them. Daddy told me not to even think about using it unless I thought I was really in danger. But if I really was in danger not to hesitate.
“Try to shoot them in the leg or something if you can,” he said, “but don’t let them get the jump on you by hesitatin’ too long.”
We thought a little night time fishing at the quarry pond would get our minds off our worries about as good as anything. Of course Snake would have to come along since it seemed he was my adopted brother now. I hated to admit it to myself, but I was actually starting to enjoy Snake’s company since Momma had had so much success in the short time she’d been educating him. She wouldn’t even allow Daddy to find many chores for him to do, saying his education was a lot more important and that she might even try to get him enrolled back in school when the new year began. I thought Snake might pull it off too, now that Momma was there to help him. Daddy too, of course. He was as well read as any lawyer or teacher in our part of the country. In fact, I’d wager that he was smarter than any man in Putnam County, although I might be a little bit prejudiced. Besides, that might not have been such a great compliment, anyway.
We’d put our boat in while there was still a little daylight and we could see where we were going. That way we didn’t have to waste our lantern fuel. We got in and rowed to the far side of the pond where there was a small area that had a mud bottom. Catfish love mud. Snake hooked a monster before me and Glenn had time to get our lines in the water, and got so excited he almost capsized the boat. We guessed that it had to have weighed at least eight pounds. Me and Glenn had the same result as soon as our hooks with the smelly chicken livers sunk below the waters surface. We had lucked up on a good spot. All three of us couldn’t keep our hooks baited fast enough, and I was afraid we would use up all our livers in no time at this rate. We had brought some red worms along too, and Snake decided to try one of them. It didn’t work as fast as the chicken livers, but it wasn’t long before he pulled in another one that must have been a five pounder. We were already discussing getting Glenn’s family together with mine for a big fish fry, if this kept up. If we had enough bait, we’d be able to feed everybody in Long Hollow.
After our stringers were about as full as they could get and we were down to just a few red worms, I looked at my watch. We had only been there a little over an hour.
“I’m glad we’re havin’ good luck,” Glenn said, “but I hate to have to quit this soon. I ain’t ready to go home yet. Reckon your momma would let you go back out if we took these fish home?”
“I don’t see why not,” I answered. “It’s only about nine o’clock and it’s Friday night. What do you want to do?”
Glenn hesitated for a minute before answering, as if he wasn’t sure I’d go along with his plan.
“Okay, Glenn. What have you got in that pea brain of yours?” I asked, knowing he was about to suggest something totally ridiculous that I probably wanted no part of.
“I, uh….was thinking, that we, uh…., we might could go visit Madge. She sure was a lot of help when we went and talked to her about the Bullards. We need to really thank her again.” Glenn’s eyes got as big as saucers as he suddenly had another epiphany, “Hey, we could give her a mess of catfish. You know, to thank her for helping us out so much and givin’ us such good advice.”
“What if Carl’s at home?” I asked him, knowing what he was thinking.
“He ain’t,” Snake chimed in. “He won’t be back for a few more days. She told me so when I was mowin’ her grass the other day.” Snake was excited because he really liked Madge and didn’t get to see her except when there was work for him to do. I knew his reasons for wanting to see her didn’t remotely resemble Glenn’s reason.
“You’d lose your nerve and somehow end up sayin’ it was my fault,” I said, looking at Glenn and grinning.
“Why would he lose his nerve,” Snake wanted to know. “Miss Madge is real nice and she’d be glad to see us. She likes you two, especially you George. She told me so.”
Glenn suddenly looked as mad as a hornet and snapped at Snake. “You’re crazy as hell, Snake. She don’t like George one bit more than she likes me. What makes you say such a fool thing?”
“I don’t know. She prob’ly like you just as much. She just talks about George a lot, that’s all.”
“Talks about him how?” Glenn was yelling at Snake now. I was trying to keep from laughing my ass off.
“Shoot, Glenn, why are you a-yellin’ at me? She just says George is a nice young man and she thinks he’s handsome. Says he’s smart too. But I bet she thinks the same thang about you. Madge likes everybody.”
“Well, let’s just haul our asses over to her house and we’ll find out who she likes the best,” Glenn said, as he started rowing the boat toward shore like he’d just seen a shark or some kind of sea monster.
Glenn didn’t say a word to me while we were loading the fish in the cooler and packing up our other gear. I knew better than to try to talk sense to him when he was like this. The thoughts of some woman, or anybody for that matter, thinking I might be better looking, or smarter, or a better shot, or a better football player or anything else killed old Glenn. It would have pissed him off if Snake had said that Madge thought I might be a better golfer, and neither one of us had picked up a golf club in our lives. It was kind of amusing watching him sling stuff in the back of the truck and barking out orders to Snake, who couldn’t have cared less anyway.
Finally I’d had enough and said, “I ain’t goin’ if you’re gonna act like this. It would be embarrassin’ to both of us if we got to Madge’s house and you made a scene over which one of us you thought she liked better. You’re the one that wants to get you some, anyway. You just want me around so you won’t be so scared and to help break the ice and talk to her.”
“Git some of what? Snake asked.
“Some of her damn blackberry jam, Snake,” Glenn shouted, madder than ever. “What in the hell do you think we’re talkin’ about?”
“Well, shit, I don’t know.”
Me and Glenn stopped what we were doing and just stood there, frozen with our mouths open. Glenn tried his best not to, but he started it under his breath to begin with. Then he burst out into a big, boisterous belly laugh. I couldn’t help but do the same thing. It was the first time either of us had ever heard Snake say an ugly word. I guess hanging around me and Glenn had a few adverse effects on Snake. His daddy had cussed like a sailor all of Snake’s life, but somehow that didn’t influence him one bit. But a few weeks with me and Glenn and he was morally corrupted. Just wait until he found out what “gittin’ some” meant. Snake had no idea what we were laughing about, but he joined in and was soon bent over double, laughing like a madman.
*****
Snake was still bent over, leaning against the truck, his sides hurting from laughing so h
ard. He looked up at us and saw that we weren’t laughing anymore. The laughter that had lit up our faces just a second ago had been replaced with a look of sheer terror.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The two men who were holding the guns on us were both dressed in solid black and wearing ski masks. For what seemed like several minutes they didn’t speak a word and only made gestures by waving their hands and pistols. Then the biggest one of the two said, “Just do what we tell you and you won’t be harmed in any way. Turn around and start walking and keep your mouths shut.”
We did as they instructed, like we had any other choice in the matter. I remembered my pistol that was in the holster on my belt. I guess they thought because we were just kids there was no danger of us being armed, because they hadn’t searched us. At least not yet. I knew it would be suicide for me and certain death for Glenn and Snake if I tried to go for my pistol. I wasn’t that stupid and knew I couldn‘t draw with lightning speed like Clint Eastwood did in the movies. Not yet, anyway. I will say that up until this point I was more scared than I had ever been in my life.
When we had walked down the limestone gravel road that led to our hay barn maybe a hundred yards or so, I could see the moonlight reflecting off a vehicle of some kind. As we got a little closer, I could see it was a van. Not a customized van like the ones that were beginning to become popular, but a plain, white utility van. They told us to stop and keep our hands held high.
The smallest one opened the back doors and took out a spool of nylon rope. He cut off three pieces and started with me first. He never spoke, but the bigger man who was still pointing the gun at us told me to put my hands behind my back. They were tied tightly and I was then told to step into the van. Then Glenn and Snake were bound and both told to get in beside me. To my dismay, they still hadn’t checked to see if we were armed. I guess youth does have it’s advantages, and assumed innocence is one of them. We were told to keep quiet as they shut the back doors of the van. The big man got in the back with us and placed hoods over our heads. The other one walked around to the drivers side door and got in, cranked the engine, and we started moving.
Snake was beginning to sob quietly and I told him to stop. Surprisingly, it worked. We rode for a good while with nobody speaking a word. I was trying to tell by counting the seconds how far we traveled before we made a turn and then tried to count the turns and whether they were right or left. I have no idea why I thought of it. As scared as I was it was a wonder I could think of anything other than what fate was in store for us. But I was determined to survive and for Glenn and Snake to survive with me. If only I could figure out a way to conceal my pistol where it wouldn’t be found. But as long as my hands were tied, there was no chance of that. It couldn’t be seen now, because my shirttail was out and covering it. But at some point I was sure they would search us.
I knew our captors weren’t the Bullards. Maybe some of their friends they had hired, but I doubted that too. Bruce and Freddy would have much preferred to come in person and wouldn’t have the patience to take us to another location when we were already in a remote place with nobody around. They would have just pulverized us right then and there.
After we had traveled about twenty minutes, if the math I had been doing in my head was accurate, we came to a stop. I could tell the last quarter of a mile or so had been uphill. Putnam County was full of ridges, but if I’d kept up with all the turns correctly, we should be roughly fifteen miles southeast of our farm.
The back door of the van opened and we were told to get out. I felt a hand on my shoulder and the big man said, “You get in front, you get behind him, and then you.”
I couldn’t tell which one of the men was leading me, but we walked several steps and I heard a door open. We walked through it and immediately started walking down stairs. We came to a landing, made a right turn and continued our descent. When we reached the bottom some lights were turned on and even through the hood I could tell they were very bright. Like neon lights. I heard the door shut behind us and the rattle of keys that sounded like they were locking it. We stood there for a minute in silence. I could hear our two captors moving things around the room. Then the hoods were jerked off our heads and I was almost blinded by the bright lights. When my eyes finally adjusted I could see the room we were in had solid concrete block walls. One wall had a mirror than ran the entire length that looked to be about four feet high. I had seen cop shows on TV where they would be questioning somebody in a room that had a mirror on the side the suspected evil doer was on, and the cops would be on the other side of the mirror watching those being questioned. I couldn’t remember if they were called one -way mirrors or two-way mirrors. One-way made more sense.
There were three small beds against one wall and in the corner was a bathroom, complete with a shower. There were books of all kinds stacked neatly around the foot of one of the beds. Other than the beds there was not another stick of furniture to be seen. The small man walked around behind each of us and untied the ropes from our wrists. He was wearing a big, bulky jacket that was zipped up, which I thought was odd, considering it was still August. He then walked through another heavy steel door, a different one from the one we’d come through. The bigger man looked us over for a minute, walking around us several times. I knew he would frisk us any minute now and find my pistol. But if he was going to do that it seemed to me like the smaller man would have stayed and held his gun on us. Maybe he is coming back, I thought. In a minute I heard the door opening. I was right. He was coming back. He had a basket of some sort in his hand and walked over to me.
“Empty your pockets and put the contents in the basket,” the big man said. I was beginning to wonder why the smaller man never spoke. Was he a mute or something? I knew this was it and they would find my pistol. After we emptied our pockets they would surely frisk us to make sure we hadn’t left anything. Either that or they were very trusting kidnappers. Then I got an idea. I knew it probably didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of working, but I was going to try it just the same. I started emptying my pockets slowly, as if I were having trouble getting the things out. I had a pocket knife, some loose change, a pocket watch that had belonged to my granddaddy and my lucky marble I had carried since I was six. I pulled each item out one at a time, careful not to let my shirttail raise up high enough for my pistol to be seen. I carefully eased the pistol out, turning sideways and making it look like I was digging something out of my pocket. I slid the pistol into the waistband of my blue jeans and pulled another item from my pocket and placed it in the basket.
“Hurry it up,” the big man said. His voice wasn’t really angry. Just extremely impatient.
I quickly reached back under my shirttail and surreptitiously slid the pistol around to the front of my pants in one quick motion. The man looked away for a fraction of a second and I quickly pushed the pistol on down in the front of my pants. I was hoping it didn’t discharge and blow my wiener off before I ever got a chance to do anything with it besides pee. The pistol was now trapped safely by my underwear. Thank goodness they were briefs and not the old baggy boxer shorts like Daddy wore. Now I had to count on these men being the type that avoided feeling another man’s crotch like they would someone with the plague.
When we all had our pockets empty, the little man started patting us down, beginning with Snake. I was last. He started at my ankles and came up my leg, rubbing in circular motions. Then he felt around my pockets in the front and back. My stomach was churning with fear and I knew I was visibly shaking and starting to hyperventilate. I had that surreal, out of body experience that can’t be explained to anybody that’s never had it themselves. Then he took his hands off me and nodded to the big man. I couldn’t believe he had missed the gun that was now resting on my family jewels. But what was even more unbelievable was him not saying anything about the small holster on my belt. He had to have felt it, I thought. Momma was always getting on to me for not tucking my shirt in, saying I looked like a tramp. Than
k God I had decided to disobey her once again. As long as my luck held out, that slouchy shirttail that was concealing the bulge in front of my pants might be what saves us.
The two men walked to the door. The small one went out of the room and the big man stood in the doorway for a second, lowering the gun he had been pointing at us.
“You are now our guests,” he said, as if we’d just checked into a fancy hotel, “We hope you enjoy your stay. Could I get any of you something to eat or drink?”
The last thing on my mind right now was eating. My stomach felt like it had been invaded by bats instead of butterflies. But Snake’s ability to eat was not impeded by a mere brush with death or the fear that death might still await him soon.
“I…I wouldn’t mind a bite to eat,” he said timidly.
“I’ll see if I can round up a bologna sandwich or something. The cook made a wonderful cake today, too. I’ll bring you all a piece and some cokes. I’ll have the cook prepare you a good breakfast in the morning.”
He turned and walked out, locking the door behind him. I suddenly had a feeling that the big man’s voice sounded vaguely familiar. I tried my best to search through the junked up closet in my brain and find the face that the voice belonged to. I wasn’t having any luck. We all just stood there, afraid to move or speak. I finally got the nerve to walk over and sit on the end of one of the beds. Glenn and Snake hesitated for a minute and then followed suit.
Long Holler Road - A Dark Southern Thriller Page 17